Walden Macnair is too old for this shit. (truthormacnair) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-09-08 03:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! [1979-09] september, walden macnair |
Who: Curtis and Walden Macnair
When: 8 September 1979
Where: The Macnair Residence, Curtis's Office.
What: Mr. Macnair has things to discuss with his son.
Rating: R for death and a touch of swearing.
There comes a time where every man has to do something that he most certainly does not want to do. Life would be easy if one could avoid everything that irked them in the slightest, but that was not the way the world worked. Everyone was forced to do something that they did not like. It was the way things were.
It was because of this that Walden was standing outside the dark mahogany door of his father’s study. Curtis Macnair was just on the other side and the youngest male of the family could not bring himself to go inside. He wasn’t scared or intimidated, he just knew that nothing pleasant could come from this meeting. The only reason Walden had come was because Curtis had practically begged him. He needed something from his son and the younger man found a sick satisfaction in that fact.
He squared his shoulders, gained his bearings, and then tapped a knuckle against the expensive wooden door.
“ Enter.”
Walden waited a few moments and then did as he was told. His father was sitting behind his massive desk and he did not look up at the appearance of his son. Instead he continued scribbling in his ledger and left Walden to stand there in a somewhat awkward silence. The older man finally looked up and the sight of his son caused him to frown.
“ You look as if you just rolled out of bed,” he scowled, motioning to Walden’s unruly head of hair. “ And you are almost an hour late, which is unacceptable.”
Walden reached up and scrunched his hair with a shrug and then walked towards one of the bookcases that lined the wall. “ I was obviously not paying mind the day they gave instructions on how to use a comb. It’s a shame that I didn’t have a father around to pick up the slack.”
Curtis snorted quietly at the comment as he leaned back in his chair. “ It was no picnic having you as a son either, I assure you.”
This caused Walden to scoff and he turned away from the books he’d been perusing. “ You are my father by name only. My professors at school were more of a father to me than you ever were and that’s not saying much for you. You have no imprint on who I am. I’ve learned the ways of the world from men who are far more accomplished that you could ever dream of being and I am far better for it.”
Curtis’s face glowed red with the heat of anger and his eyes flashed full of malcontent for the man standing across the room from him. He always seemed to lose his temper quickly when it came to Walden. He swallowed the anger and resolved to move on. He had called his son to the house this day for one reason and now Walden had made news much easier to deliver.
“ I know the type of people you are associated with, Walden. I’ve always known that you were going to disappoint me, which is actually why I asked you to come here today. I have some news that you might fine interesting.”
“ News? Well it must be of the utmost importance for you to ask me here at such a late hour especially since there is a very good chance that I will care not.” Walden had gone back to looking over the spines of the books on his father’s shelves, expecting the news to be less than flooring.
The twisted smirk on Curtis’s face would have chilled Walden to the bone, had he seen it. Curtis had made grand plans that he knew would upset both his children and quite possibly his wife, though he cared very little for any of their feelings.
“ I’m going to enter into talks with Caspar Crouch regarding Evangeline,” he said casually, as if he were making useless small talk. “ I’d like to get her married off as soon as possible. Your mother would love to hold a grandchild before she dies and since your priorities are clearly out of order the duty has fallen upon your sister.”
Walden had turned from the books and was now staring at his father with disbelief. “ Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“ Language, Walden. I’ll not have you cursing like a heathen in my home.”
“ And I’ll not have you marrying my little sister off to a corpse. His wife has been dead for six years now and he has been handling himself just fine. I doubt Evangeline is going to do much for him. He won’t be able to produce an heir, which I’m sure you know.”
Curtis slid around to the front of his desk so he was closer to his son and he stared at the dark haired man with an intensity that might have scared anyone else. “ You listen hear, boy. That girl will marry Crouch and you will keep your mouth quite shut, am I clear?”
“ Why should I do a thing you say? You don’t scare me, Curtis. I am not going to let you sell Eva to a dirty old man. I will not stand for it.”
Curtis laughed. It was a hollow and eerie sound that Walden was not used to and he felt an involuntary shiver run through him as his old man stared him down. “ You will stay out of it completely if you know what’s good for you.” Curtis crept closer to Walden and soon both men were within inches of each other.
“ What are you going to do, send me to my room without supper?”
“ I’ll expose you,” Curtis growled, his voice just above a whisper. “ You may think I know nothing but you underestimate me. You’re a killer, Walden. You run around thinking that you are untouchable under the watch of your Dark Lord. I can take you down in a second. I can take you all down.”
“ You have a death wish,” Walden snarled. “ You cannot blackmail me, old man. Evangeline will NOT marry Crouch and you will keep your traitorous mouth shut. Do you understand?” Walden could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage. There was a venomous heat coursing through him and he could feel the rage coiling in the pit of his stomach. His entire body was awakening like an angry beast.
Curtis quickly moved away from his son and towards his desk, reaching for the top drawer of his desk. “ You will not threaten me, boy! I am your father and you will respect me!” The old wizard yanked the drawer open and grabbed his wand but he was not quick enough. Walden had drawn his own and they both stood frozen, wands pointed and eyes fixed.
“ Is this what you imagined when you came to call on your dear old dad at 1:30 in the morning?” Curtis asked, grinning as if he’d lost his mind. “ Did you know that I was going to ruin your life?”
Walden frowned. “ You did enough of that when I was a boy.”
Curtis laughed. “ Poor baby, left alone to face the world. Thank goodness you had your purist uncle to show you the ways of the world. Maybe you’re right. If I’d been around you might not have run off to the country. You might not have made friends with that Lestrange boy and all the others like him. You might have stayed out of trouble and carried on my good name. YOU RUINED MY NAME! You’re going to be found out and it’s going to ruin me and slay your mother, and for what? You killed a few mud bloods? Good for you, Wally. You really made a difference. Where would we be without you and your comrades? Thanks to you your sister is going to spend the rest of her life bedding a skelet…”
“ Shut up,” Walden warned. “ If you value your life you will shut your mouth before I shut it for you.”
Curtis tilted his arm slightly, keeping his wand trained on his son. “ You are a failure. You are nothing but a failure to this family and I will watch you fall.” Curtis moved to take a intimidating step forward, losing his footing. He held his wand position and started to yell something but his voice was drowned by Walden’s killing curse.
The old man fell awkwardly to the floor, his eyes open and his wand still clutched in his hand. Walden stood in complete shock as he looked down at the body at his feet. The heat that had consumed his body faded and was replaced with a cold fear. He had murdered his own father. Curtis Macnair was dead and he had been the one to do it.
Walden turned away quickly and paced to the other side of the room. Fuck. What was he supposed to do? Could he just leave him there? No one had known that the visit had been planned. He could make it look like suicide. They had done it to Selwyn.
He was shaking. He had killed a large number of people before, people he’d hated less than the man who was now crumpled on the floor. He was going to ruin Evangeline and out the Death Eaters. This was self-defense, though he hardly thought that either of those would make a sturdy defense in front of a council. Bloody hell, he was screwed. He needed to think of something before his mother came back from Brighton in the morning. She was going to be a wreck.
He cursed his failing brain. He knew how to deal with bodies. He could clear a scene in no time flat but this was different. This was personal and so it took hold of his common sense and turned him into a panicked mess. He was going to have to call someone. He’d known this for the last few minutes but he wasn’t exactly ready to make the summon. No, he had to. Rodolphus was going to be pissed but he was the only person that he trusted with his life.
It was time to clean up his mess. He was going to need a bottle of something strong by the end of it all, this he knew above all else. It was going to be a long fucking night.