InsaneJournal

WHO: Declan and Abigail
WHAT: Nathalie remembers to post things before it's too late The cousins talk about his Epic Gryffindor Moment. It doesn't end well.
WHEN: backdated: During break.
WHERE: Burke household.
Status:Closed/Complete
RATING: PG-13ish

Cormac McLaggen was churlish. Cormac McLaggen is churlish. From Abigail’s recollection, and she prided herself of having an excellent deliberate memory, there hadn’t been a time when he wasn’t. The thought certainly stood firm in her head whenever he was about. Along with: witless, imperceptive, and asinine. Gryffindor! It typically irked her that he was a relative that wouldn’t allow her to roll over them or wouldn’t even consider bending to her demands.And how, Cormac’s blatant pomposity grated on her nerves! His manner stood in stark contrast of how she believed a gentleman should behave. That he was family and acted so Cormac was an insult to - she couldn’t currently think of what but it was! It was nearly ironic that it was because he was family that kept her from ever saying more than she truly could to him (not even the fact that she despaired what would ever happen if their tempers ever took them over at the same moment factored in as heavily as the blood relation, as distant as it was). The irony was a near miss, just a near one, because Abigail didn’t find the cosmos very amusing.

Dealing with Cormac recently had been worse than usual because Gail had had her fill of difficult relatives in the last few months. Was it SO bad for one of them just meet her seventy-five percent of the way? Lucy was STILL with that boy and then Declan putting himself in harms way - to say nothing of the blow to his standing - over that girl. Now Neely, who she had always gotten on with, was being tight lipped and Cormac was, she was getting the feeling, being deliberately obtuse. There shouldn’t have been much more of his intelligence left for him to blunt up and make obscure but he had somehow managed to come off even more clueless than usual. All over Declan! She would have been touched shocked by the unexpected fraternal solidarity if it wasn’t being used against her. Neither wanted to tell her what was going on with her cousin. Logically, she expected it from Neely. As she was closer with Declan than Gail was. However, from Cormac? She had expected him to give up whatever little he knew. Removing information from her older cousin was never easy. He didn’t understand subtlety but Gail was a Slytherin for a reason, what was more she was her father’s daughter.

That unexpected solidarity had slammed her out.

It had taken some doing, and Abigail suspected that it was mostly Neely taking pity on her (which did nothing for her mood), but finally she was told where Declan was staying.

It had taken her a day to do something with the information. Only to assure that she didn’t blow her top off he moment she laid eyes on him. It might not have been the most familial minded thing to do, given how many days she had gone without even looking at Declan much less speaking to him, however it was the Abigail thing to do. She really did detest losing her temper. And while, appearances were not more important than family. They were just as.

Declan sat on an armchair in the spare room, relaxing. He had spent the day at the Muggle zoo. In fact, he had spent the past few days there - ever since Uncle Tiberius allowed him to stay at his London flat, in fact. The first day, he was practically dragged there by Neely, who very shrewdly tried to use his love for animals as a way to distract him from recent events. Then, as the Burkes went back to their estate and Cormac left for Tyrone to play the role of perfect son and try to make their parents change their mind about him (fat chance), Declan found himself in an empty house with absolutely nothing to do but think about everything that had happened in his life. And that was something he did not wish to do. The zoo became a sort of refuge, where he could leave his usual thoughts at the entrance and focus on other matters. At some occasion, he found himself wondering if it was possible to have Aethonans mate with zebras - a silly but strangely comforting idea, and one which was tons better than wondering what his family was doing, and how many of the people he until now thought were his friends were still willing to talk to him.

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, and then suddenly stopped, as he heard sound coming from the living room, where the fireplace was located. Someone had dropped in via Floo.

He frowned at this. Who could it be? Cormac and Uncle Tiberius would Apparate there, Neely arriving with her father, as would the Burkes’ house elf, Goopy, who had been instructed by his master to pop in daily to make sure Declan wasn’t starving himself. This had to be someone else.

Worried, he reached for his wand and rushed to the living room. You never knew who might be paying unannounced visits these days.

Abigail was frowning down at her robes in distaste - she hated traveling by floo, it was so dusty - when Declan arrived but the sound of his feet as his stormed in had her looking up at him. The slight twitching of her brows was the only sign of surprise. One that was quickly covered by her arching one of them.

“Is that anyway to greet your cousin?” She asked as she stepped further from the fireplace. “I’ll take that to mean that Neely didn’t inform you that I planned to visit.”

Declan had to stifle a groan. No matter how fond he was of Abigail, he had a feeling he knew the reason for this visit and he was in no mood for it. But then again, Cormac had surprised him with his approval, so there was a chance, unlikely as it sounded, that she would do the same.

With a failed attempt of a smile, he put away his wand. “Sorry,” he said. “She didn’t say anything, so I was taken by surprise.” He’d need to have a little chat with Neely, it seemed.

“Hmm.” Was all Abigail said in response. If she had known that the way that she pursed her lips - in obvious judgment - would end up giving her wrinkles by the time she was thirty, she likely wouldn’t have done it so often. As it was, the look remained for a brief time as she removed her travelling summer cloak. The house elf popping in right away to put it where it belonged. Abigail’s features softened slightly at that, almost into a smile. She really did like efficient and effective service. “Thank you. Bring in something to drink, perhaps a light snack.” She ordered, as if this was her place or hell, as if she’d been an invited guest.

Her eyes fell back on Declan as soon as the house elf popped right back out. “It would seem that no one in this family sees it fit to tell any-body anything” Ever one to pointedly cut to the point when she wanted to. No ‘hello’ or ‘how do you do?’. Not that he had provided her with any anyhow, and when she’d been the one to make the effort to make the visit given how she felt about what he’d done during school.

“Neely told you where I was, it seems,” Declan replied, trying hard not to sound disapproving of their cousin’s decision. No matter how much he didn’t want to have that talk with Abigail, he knew that now that she was there it would be impossible to avoid it. He just hoped she’d know when to drop it, as there were things he didn’t want to discuss with anyone - not even with her. Especially not with her. Abigail was as much his confidant and source of advice as Parvati, though for different reasons - whereas Parvati was pure heart and helped him with matters that made him feel lost and confused, Abigail was cerebral and understood what it was like growing up in an old wizarding family. However, given what Declan had done, it would be impossible for her to understand or even accept what he had done - what she thought he had done. Actually, he thought, even if she knew the real story she wouldn’t understand.

“Please sit down,” he offered. Might as well get this over with.

“Very astute.” Abigail stated, just barely resisting rolling her eyes. She was many things. Controlled. Superior. However, maturity didn’t always factor into the previous two traits, especially when she was upset. Especially when she was worried. Abigail wasn’t the sort to fly into panic, even when her temper caused her to overreact. And truth be told she wasn’t panicing now but she was filled with a lot of questions and no nearer to any answers. Declan wasn’t home. He was no longer staying at his home, with his parents and no one. Nobody. Not a single person would tell her why. No one would give her tiniest of clues! Obviously, she guessed that had been kicked out. Unless he had left. No. She couldn't see Declan just leaving unless things had gotten so bad that - He had barely gotten home for things to have gotten that bad, had he? His father could be just as insufferable as Cormac but Declan ... She didn't know. Abigail liked to think that Declan would put up with a lot from his family but after what he pulled she just didn't know. And Abigail hated to be uncertain. Nevertheless, one thing she was sure about is that they couldn't have kicked Declan out for what he had done. It was ridiculous. Her own father, a Slytherin - as a serious minded man as he was, wouldn't have kicked Gwaine out for what he had done. Threaten to disown him, remove his inheritance, so many other things but never kick him out. For one, he was family. For another, just think of the gossip! If they had, if they had kicked him out it must mean that Declan had done something worse and -

His words cut off her thoughts.

Abigail blinked at him once, a frown marring her features. She was more annoyed with herself, than she was with him at the moment, at how she allowed her mind to run away like that. Lips pursed, she tilted her head in his direction but placing herself down demurely and proper. Hands folded on her lap waiting for him to start explaining. She didn't trust her tongue right now if she began demanding answers - not with the thoughts swirling in her head.

Oh bugger, Declan thought as he saw the pose she adopted as she sat down, and the way her lips were pursed. He knew Abigail well enough to be aware of what that meant. She was upset, much more that he thought she would be. Part of him was understandably worried, but another part was feeling nothing more than annoyance at this. Declan felt like a badly-cursed dicto-quill, repeating the same words over and over. He didn’t want to talk about it. But how could he tell his cousin that without making her mad?

He sat on the opposite armchair and ran a rand through his hair as he tried to think of something tactful to say. Which was a problem, since he wasn’t feeling very tactful at the moment. “Listen,” he eventually said, “I know you’ve got questions. I’m sure I’d be asking them myself if I was in your place.” Or he’d tell others to leave him the fuck alone, he thought to himself. “But the thing is...” He sighed. “I really don’t feel like poking those memories right now.” There. Way more polite than he would have put it if he was talking to someone else. Hopefully, it would work.

“You ‘don’t feel like poking at those memories right now?” The question was much more incredulous than mocking. “Well then, since they’re your memories, when would you like to poke at them?” She blinked, tilting her head pleasantly. The movement was far too pleasant as was her tone. However, it was difficult to miss the bite even if it was hard to pinpoint if she was angry, frustrated, or something else. Some might say that Abigail was overreacting but at that second - as she continued on, sarcastic and sharply sweet - she didn’t care. “Would tomorrow be alright with you? Or how about next week? Maybe in a month when the dust of your insanity has all settled down and you’ve perhaps come to your senses. Oh, wait, a month might be much too far away - on the off chance that you regain all common sense by then, and I do hope that you do, you’ll definitely won’t want to poke at anything then. Better make it next week. Would Monday suffice? I would certainly hate to make the effort to come here again only to discover that I’ve wasted both of our time. Again.”

She hadn’t moved from the chair once. Hands demurely folded on her lap, legs crossed, she looked every bit the composed pureblooded young lady. Which was the thought that had Gail taking a very quick breath. She definitely could have approached this more calmly. However, even she couldn’t always keep cool when going up against the Gryffindors in her family. Stubborn, thick-headed were given new meaning when used to define the McLaggen males. Nevertheless, Declan was typically much more reasonable. This was why he was her favorite. Although she wouldn’t admit to it even with hot pokers held to her face but it stung that he wasn’t talking to her about this. He always talked to her damn it! On top of what was currently going on with Lucy, among other things, Gail’s emotions - there might be a possibility of … feelings … being hurt. The knowledge of that fact, as buried as it was, combined by that she was frustrated - in general as well as - with herself by allowing herself to be pulled in by this ridiculousness only wore at the temper that she usually had sealed, air-tight. A temper that was fraying through her fingers at the situation. “I apologize. That was unwarranted.” She continued not even a whole minute after she last finished speaking. “I am just trying to understand, Declan, and you’re not presenting me with any information to start doing so.”

Quick as it was to arrive, the apology came too late for Declan. Every sarcastic word that came before had hit him sharply, and the fact that they had been uttered by someone dear to his heart made them even more painful. As Gail was venting her frustration, he was unable to take his eyes off her, his face betraying all the hurt and disappointment he was feeling. As soon as silence hit, however, he looked away, the typical McLaggen temper having reached the surface and threatening to explode like a volcano. In order to prevent this, he squeezed his fists so tightly his knuckles were completely colourless, and once Gail began uttering her apology he looked back at her with an expression that anyone who knew the McLaggen males well knew was a warning: Run.

Of course, the thing that separated Declan from Cormac or Dermot was that he usually managed to fight his temper to a degree. It hadn’t worked when his father insulted Molly and Cece (and, without intention, humiliated his own wife in the process) but bloody hell, he wasn’t going to lose it with his cousin - even if she was being an ice cold bitch at the moment. So, with his fists still tightly clenched and a look of total disgust, he spat, “You want to understand what happened, do you?” He stood up and turned to the nearest window. “Well, tough.”

The hitched breath came unbidden, without opportunity to stifle it, because while she had seen that look before she had never seen it on Declan’s face toward her. For a moment Abigail wanted to press herself back but she didn’t. She refused to. She wasn’t stupid. She knew how badly it could be if he lost his temper. However, as Declan scrambled not to blow up at his cousin, Abigail retreated further and further into herself. Her face blank and she simply waited. Iron ice composure that had failed her before slammed into place. Her sense of self was too strong for her to jump to her feet and run out of there. She would like to think that Declan would not lose his temper in such an unfitting manner in front of her, however - she didn’t even know with him right now. Therefore, she was more than prepared to handle herself if he did. As his fingers tightened further around the chair’s arms, her back became straighter and she met his disappointed look with an unmoved one of her own.

The look that he gave her. However, the look that he gave her caused her to flinch. Just so slightly. Almost as if he had smacked her. Anyone else might have teared up or perhaps attempted to appeal to Declan. However, she knew all to well how he was when he put his foot down. There was a finality. She had very likely lost her chance at ever receiving answers, never mind the sort of answers that she wanted.

Standing as well, she looked steadily at his back, blue eyes narrowing for a brief second before acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “Then I suppose there is no reason for me to remain here. Give my apologies to the Burkes for putting them out of food that shall go untouched. It was terribly rude of me. I will see you once school commences, Declan.” Likely not. She hesitated as if to say more. However, she stiffled anything potentially maudlin and marched toward the fire place.

Declan didn't turn to look at Gail as she made her goodbyes. In fact, he didn't even bother to acknowledge her exact words. In his opinion, she had said enough already.

It was at this tense-filled moment that Goopy decided to reappear with a loud crack, a tray in his hands. His bulging brown eyes turned to Gail with confusion. "Miss Abigail...?"

"Miss Abigail's leaving," Declan told him. "And good riddance too." The poor house elf's bemusement almost made his anger disappear. Almost. He wanted to tell Goopy not to worry, that he was hungry and the food would not go to waste, but he wasn't going to do so while she was within earshot. Instead, he decided to aim what he hoped would be bitter final words, aimed more at Cece and fucking Beery than at his cousin but which he nevertheless hoped would hit the mark. "Bloody Slytherins."

Abigail had to bite her tongue, pressing down at the tip and taking in three - then five - steady breaths to keep from snapping back at Declan at his good riddance. She thought that he was just being petty and unnecessary - not that it hurt, not that it mattered or anything, it was a statement of fact and she refused to sink to his level. Abigail gave a curt nod when the elf turned to look at her one last time, her smile strained. “Thank you. However, I won’t be able to sample your delicious efforts. I do apologize for the inconvenience.” Abigail was a firm believer of politeness to those who deserved it, even house elves. Service done well deserved the recognition. A little kindness, whether felt or not, went just as long - at times further - than a firm reprimand.

The only sign that she had heard his parting shot was the way her jaw clenched. It was all she could do not to turn around and sneer something nasty back at him. “If you would fetch my robes?” It was an order but one that proper manners softened just slightly. The house-elf was gone and back quickly enough; however, the moments seemed to tick a little slower as Abigail thought increasingly nasty things about her cousin. When Goopy arrived, she yanked the robe from his grip a bit harsher than was necessary but she provided a pleasant smile - almost as apology - that almost made it seem as if it had been accidental (it certainly hadn’t been intentional). She put on her robe and didn’t even bother smoothing it out, stepping into the fireplace, she cast Declan a very brief look. Not long enough for either of them to catch any emotion in the look. Simply a glace. She grabbed some of the powder and floo’d home.