Who: Kinjala and Matthew Selwyn When: THERAPY TIEM IS NAO! When: Sunday, 2 May 1982, early afternoon Where: The Selwyns' family home, naturellement! Rating: Say... T for Teens because of some talk of INCEST!
“Matthew had been “blue” for several days now. Not Ravenclaw blue, naturellement – just plain sad – depressed, more like, if one were a Mediwitch given to using clinical terms. He finally decided to confide in Kinjala – his aunt, technically, though he really didn't feel the same connection to her as he did to her husband – who was, in fact, his dying father's brother, and who looked remarkably like family to Matthew. Kinjala, unfortunately, was naught but a stranger in a strange land to him. Still, though – Uncle Nicholas had said that Kinjala was the person to talk to about such matters of the heart and soul, so at last he sat down at the dining room table while she prepared lunch for him and his by-now odious father, and asked her, softly, “Aunt Kinjala? Do you suppose Diana will ever forgive me? I mean, for the way I broke the news of our mother's death, and... well... other things...” He wasn't quite comfortable enough with the good woman to admit his family's dirty little secrets to her – nevermind that she was, technically, family!
Ever since she'd come to Britain, Kinjala had felt like she'd been doing a case study. Of course, that was what she'd come here for - she'd been desperately curious about the Selwyn family ever since Nicholas had first spoken to her about it. From all that Nicholas had told her, they seemed to embody part of what had driven her to study the mind in the first place - that the uptight silence in which many Pureblood families lived engendered the worst sort of madness. While it hadn't been as easy as she'd thought (mainly because Frederick refused to speak to her beyond pleasantries and complaints), it seemed to pay off now - right when she'd least expected it to.
She turned around quickly when she heard Matthew speak. She'd barely heard him come in! After he'd finished speaking, she asked, "How did you break it to her? And what else have you done to earn her ire?"
“Well... first of all, I told her how desperately ill her father was, and I'd hoped that would put her in a better mood – given – well.” Matthew was about to say just why Di would be so relieved to find out how sick her father was, but then thought better than to confide in this strange young woman; for all he knew, Nicholas had not even shared the story of his own abuse at his brother's hands. “It's nothing, really!” He pursed his lips as he tried to remember just where he had been in his narrative, when he had been interrupted by his own sense of tact. “That is to say: it didn't – not really! I mean, her flatmates were close to killing me as it was, and she looked ready to allow it, quite honestly...!” He grimaced at the memory of that dreadful meeting. “She asked me, then, what had become of Mother, that she wasn't eating with the rest of us, anymore – as I'd told her that much over the Journals... Anyhow, I had to tell her then – before her flatmates could get impatient with their wands! It was...not the best timing, really, I realise that much now...!”
"How he had abused her?" asked Kinjala, giving a little hint that she was well aware of what went on with her in-laws. "Well, tell me all of what happened, so that I can get a better picture. You go to see Diana...take me through it. Why were her flatmates ready to kill you? Did they know you?"
“...What!?” Matthew gaped openly at Kinjala for a good minute before he remembered his manners, and snapped his jaw shut. “I mean, Uncle Nicholas told you about that?” Though he was superficially deferential to his very young aunt – why, she looked younger than he did, at this moment – his eyes were still as wide as saucers as he continued on, “Yes... That's exactly what I mean, I suppose...!” He paused for a moment to brace himself for the next part of his story. “Well, I found her walking the streets, because that's how she wanted to meet me – not wishing to give me her proper address over the Journals...” He cleared his throat, trying to dispel the lump within it. “And then... she took me back to her flat, as if I were a... client of hers, and of course her flatmates reacted... rather badly, when I accidentally upset her, by saying... You know, I can't rightly recall what upset her so. Something about my association with the – Knights of Walpurgis...!” He chose to use the old name, hoping at least that Kinjala would understand that it was a fraternity of wizards, and not meant to be an army of cold-blooded killers, at all!
"He tells me many things," Kinjala said, "But you needn't worry. Your secrets are safe with me, I promise. I know that many wizards are sceptical of problems that cannot be cured with potions and spells, but I do maintain my integrity. So you found your sister - she is a prostitute, correct? How did you feel, seeing her like that? Or seeing her again, knowing what you now know? - Oh dear, I really should have asked earlier, what sort of a person is your sister? I'm sorry for throwing so many questions at you, I need context."
“Well – I –“ Matthew paused to collect himself, in the face of so many questions. “I mean, it was wonderful to know she was alive, of course, but I – well...” He blushed furiously just then, thinking of exactly what he had thought and felt at seeing his sister walking the streets. Why, he was almost as bad as their father, for thinking such thoughts! “Well,” he said again, determined to get off that subject as quickly as possible, “Yes, she is, indeed. No Halfblood or Muggle clients, of course; they could ill afford her – services...!” He flushed still redder as he realised that he could, in fact, afford her. “I mean,” and he decided then to jump to his aunt's next question, “Well, she was always rather loud and.... defiant, I suppose is the correct term! I mean, not that I blame her at all, considering all that she went through – without me suspecting a damned thing...! But – now that I do know, I thought we could patch things up, somehow...!”
There was something interesting in what Matthew wasn't saying, and Kinjala could have seen it from a mile off. "Was it strange for you? Considering how you both grew up. And I understand you're very religious, what does your religion have to say about prostitutes?" She nodded at his next answer. "So she lives fairly well for one in her profession? And I know it's a forgone conclusion, but what is your opinion on blood purity?" asked the halfblood. "Do you think she was defiant because of Frederick? To get some of her own pride back? Or perhaps to hide what he was doing? - I see. And she didn't want to patch things up, I imagine. How do you think she feels about you now?"
“...Yes, it was, rather...!” Matthew admitted reluctantly; why he thought he could be comfortable in confiding to this strange woman was now beyond his understanding, really... “I mean – my religion? Well... it says in the Catechism something along the lines of... 'Prostitution wounds the dignity of those who engage in it, stripping away their person-hood and making them a mere instrument of pleasure.' I mean... not that Diana believes in what I believe anyhow; I think she's atheistic, rather...!” He nodded to himself, as for the first time in this conversation, he was making perfect sense to his own ears. But then came even more questions, and he blinked rapidly, as if trying to clear his eyes would also clear his head. “Sorry, how do you mean, recover her pride? I mean, she was always prideful – a little too much so, if I may say so!” The last question was the most difficult one to answer, and Matthew chewed on it for a good long moment before spitting out his answer: “I honestly believe she hates me! I...” But whatever else he was going to say, he seemed to think better of it, shaking his head back and forth in stolid silence.
"And do you believe that? That she is an instrument of pleasure?" This wasn't really getting anywhere, necessarily, but there was quite an obvious reason for that. Kinjala tried not to let on for this. "Perhaps it's my English - I meant that she would have been defiant and prideful to prove that she was not always as powerless as her father made her. But I do not know her. - Now, why would she hate you? You are her brother."
“...No, no! Of COURSE I don't! I mean – not for me, at any rate!” Matthew exclaimed, horrified at the very thought. “But still – the Catechism is correct in that instance. I mean, to her clients – who are many, to the best of my knowledge – she is nothing more than an instrument of pleasure – not a person at all! I'd say that certainly injures her dignity!” He looked close to tears of frustration, that he couldn't talk his sister into coming home, and being safe and loved – not as their bastardly father had loved her, of course; he would restrain such urges if Diana moved home! But out on the streets, he began to wonder whether or not he would be able to restrain such urges... But, no, of course he could! He was her brother, after all! He was supposed to protect his sister, not use protection with her! In the midst of these thoughts, he almost missed Kinjala's question about Diana's reasons for hating him. “Sorry, what did you say, madame? Oh... Well... I really couldn't say!” Unless, of course, she were a trained Legilimens, and could read all the hideous thoughts on his mind about her! But no – she had been warm until his slip about... what exactly? He couldn't even remember, now...! And tears of frustration began to slip down his cheek, which he wiped at furiously, with his hand. “Sorry, I had better... go now...! Forgive me, please...! I didn't mean to...!” But what he 'didn't mean' to do, remained unspoken, as he rose from his chair – so quickly, in fact, that he almost toppled it – and ran from the room.