rp log; evan and georgina.
Who: Evan and Georgina. Where: His flat in Hampstead Heath. When: 27 April 1979, early afternoon. What: Georgina tries to comfort her friend. Rating: PG-13 for emoz & touchingness.
*************************************
Georgina surveyed the contents of the cloth bag in front of her. Tea, coffee and five leather-bound books were crammed haphazardly in the small space, she had tried to make it look neater for a while but it amounted to nothing. She was unsatisfied with it, as she was unsatisfied with everything else that she wasn't particularly adept at. Making a care basket for someone who just lost his mother was one of those menial, domestic things that Georgina would never be able to master, let alone comprehend. What was there in plying someone with tea and books when you could simply offer company? But it seemed only polite to bring something, especially when it was an unannounced visit.
Heaving the bulging bag unto her shoulder, Georgina set off from her flat and joined the bustle of witches and wizards in Diagon Alley. It was quite surprising that business still thrived even after they had their little fun here only a few weeks ago. Arriving at an Apparition Point, she squared her shoulders and disappeared. She arrived in a clearing behind a clump of trees, so it was safe that no Muggle eyes have seen her. Another few minutes walk and she finally found herself in front of Evan's flat.
It was silly then, to have made the journey and feel like she was intruding on something private. Georgina rolled her eyes at her foolishness and knocked. He needed company, she would provide it.
Evan didn't expect the knock upon his door -- he didn't expect much at all, really -- and stood with some degree of confusion, staring at it for a full minute before making any movement. There could be anyone on the other side of the all too thin wood and metal and he was, he thought, not fit for accepting company. He wasn't even dressed for the occasion. His shirt was only half-buttoned and most wrinkled as the tails peeked out from a half-hearted attempt at tucking it within the waistband of his corduroy trousers. He bit his lip and ran the tips of his fingers through his tousled hair before finally steeling himself to open the damn thing and see who was in the other side ...
"Miss Georgina," was an expression of shock even as his shoulder hit the doorjamb and he frowned hard. Until the pain subsided, he comforted himself with observing her countenance which he attempted to soften with a crooked twist of his lips and a warmer, more pleased expression of speech. "Won't you come in?"
"Evan," she nodded in reply and offered what she hoped as a kind smile. Georgina disliked all this pretence polite society had taught them to abide by and she wanted nothing more than to give him a hug. The thought was immediately pushed back from her mind when she realised how uncouth it was to simply just hug someone without any apparent reason, at the said person's door, just as one only recently arrived. "That would be lovely," Georgina said instead and stepped inside the threshold of his flat. She waited, as it was expected, for him in the hall as he closed the door.
"I apologise for barging in like this," she began, "But I didn't-I hadn't planned-." Her earlier rehearsed speech about not having seen him in too long and being around the neighbourhood seemed incredibly frivolous. "I wanted to see how you were." Simple. And, even rarer, honest. Georgina suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Vulnerability didn't agree with her, it seemed.
He closed the door silently and listened to her reasons for showing up on his doorstep. No matter, he didn't care. Her presence was like a beam of sunlight cast onto the earth from between inky clouds - it threw everything around him into stark relief. He didn't care what she thought about him, only that he might be allowed some small boon ... "Yes," was a quiet affirmation as he bridged the distance between them and wrapped his arms tightly around her, fitting his chin even into the hollow of her slender neck.
Georgina stiffened slightly when he moved to hold her, but it was due more to surprise than anything else. She barely heard his reply to her rather ungraceful attempt at finding a reason as she allowed her arms to circle around his chest. Their close proximity was disconcerting to her; it wasn't as if she hadn't been this close to someone before, no. But the whole situation felt new to her somehow. Georgina pulled her arms around him tighter and rested her head against his shoulder. Words failed her for once.
He held her for what he thought was a beat longer than what propriety dictated (since they were no longer following its mandates, it seemed) and upon drawing back, smiled in a rather contrite and apologetic fashion. "Thank you."
"It's fine," she said, her voice sounding slightly choked before she cleared her throat. She moved to hold his hand for a moment before coming to her senses. "I brought you a couple of things," Georgina began, setting the cloth back on the nearest table she saw and began taking the items out one by one. Having her back to him was enough of a break for her to regain composure, and to try and control the burning sensation on her cheeks.
"Your kindness is overwhemling," he replied, tucking his hands at the small of his back and side-stepping to just exist within her peripheral vision. "I admit to not having left the flat in some days." His favourite tea - was it a coincidence? - and books he had not yet read. He blessed her in his mind.
She smirked at his words. Kindness. But then who was to say that she couldn't direct her emotions where it was needed? Her expression softened a little and turned to glance at him, "It's no bother." When everything was laid out on the table, and after she unnecessarily made sure that it looked neat enough, Georgina deemed it safe to broach the topic. If only she could think of an acceptable way to frame her questions. Her gaze lingered a little too long on his face before she actually said anything. "How was your trip?"
"Sit down," was more of a statement and less of a suggestion as he perched on the edge of a wing-backed chair and beheld his tightly-balled fists. If he were to admit this to anyone it might as well be her. He took a deep breath. "It's the first I've been home since I was eleven. It was nice to see that nothing much had changed. Except, you know, that one very important aspect ..."
Georgina did as she was bidden and sat on another armchair adjacent to Evan's. She noticed the sudden change in his mood, of course, and the sight of his clenched fists only confirmed her assumptions. She stayed silent for the entire time he was speaking, keeping her eyes intent on his hands. They told her more of his emotions than his words ever could. She nodded slightly when he trailed off. The impulse to take his hands finally won out and she leaned forward in her seat to do so. It was forward of her to do so but no one was around to dictate her actions.
Unashamedly, he twisted his fingertips in her grip to weave their hands together as he squeezed tightly and brought his gaze to bear on a window over her shoulder. "Our Lord killed her, Georgina. Rather, he had her killed. Because of me."
Her eyes still hadn't left their hands but she glanced up all too quickly when he heard him. Confusion ran rampant at first but there was a small ounce of realisation in her mind. "Why?" she asked softly, holding his hand in an almost tender manner.
"You will remember the circumstances of my induction into our organisation ..." he thought better of himself with a quick dip of his head, "or perhaps you will not. My father had borrowed against our plantation for some many years and it was always easy to pay off his debts after each growing season. We had so much even without the use of magic. Except for a period of three years. By the time my father was through, we were nearly destitute and Lord Voldemort stepped in to pay father's debts on the condition that I would join him when I graduated from Hogwarts. He took me from her." A pause. He smiled ruefully. "Years pass. I am given the task - with Regulus - of delivering explosive devices. We failed in our task. In recompense for his losses, Lord Voldemort took the one thing of value I had - her."
"No," she couldn't help but whisper. Her hands had tightened around his involuntarily and her grip didn't ease until he finished talking. She was looking at him intently now, her eyes refusing to leave his face. The fact that he didn't join the Death Eaters of his own volition was another matter entirely and it wasn't the time to discuss that. Presently, all she cared was to hear that he was fine. "Listen to me," Georgina's voice was still barely above a whisper but it was firm, "It was not your fault, Evan." She fought to keep her voice even despite the circumstances. What guilt he must be feeling, what torment? "It wasn't you," she finished, rather unnecessarily.
"Then what was it, Georgina Wilkes? For I'm killing myself to know ..."
This silenced her for a while. She had several answers and all blamed everyone but him. His father. Those meddling idiots from the Ministry. That Pepper individual. She considered saying something vaguely seditious against Lord Voldemort but thought better of it. After a few moments, she spoke. "Circumstances change everything," her gazed dropped back to their still intertwined hands. "Had those fools from the Ministry not been tipped off." She disliked putting the blame on something they couldn't control. Fate. Circumstance. Outcomes changed according to other people's actions.
" ... and I did not show remorse swiftly enough or so says Rodolphus." His lips pursed. "She was a good woman, Georgina. Genuinely good in ways that I could have never been."
"Don't," she wanted to say but kept silent. She wanted to make him believe that he didn't cause his mother's death but all he said only made her attempts seem feeble and weak. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. His loss was profound, if not alien to her. The thought of losing a parent always seemed so foreign a thought; they were supposed to be a constant, nagging presence.
"Don't be." With their hands folded, he brings her palms to his lips to offer the lightest of kisses. "It will soon be forgotten and I can return to being a functioning member of our Lord's society."
Georgina nodded again, ignoring the surge of something akin to pleasure when Evan kissed her hand. The Dark Lord did not tolerate mistakes and while she was sorry for his loss, she realised just how much Lord Voldemort could take away in an instant. She would not fail. Disengaging a hand from his, she reached up and touched his cheek for a moment. "You will recover from this."
With bowed head and closed eyes, he drew a breath before looking at her when she withdrew her hand. "The only other choice is death, Georgina," he whispered, "and try as I might I do not yet wish for death."
"Then you must fight," she said matter-of-factly, "You still have so much to give." Her eyes had been surveying him in earnest, and she was alarmed to see how incredibly vulnerable he looked.
" ... so much to give?" he laughed mirthlessly. Oh yes, he had so much left to give to the Dark Lord. His soul - and that being a thing of no value - was all that he yet possessed. But for Georgina he nodded. "Yes, you're right. The Dark Lord is only making me stronger so that I can fight for him. And win."
The Dark Lord's cause had always fascinated Georgina, almost as much as the idea of power over those who deserved to be subdued. His mirthless laugh was lost on her as she concentrated on what he said next. Yes, power. The Dark Lord was merely training them, preparing them for greater things. "We will win," she said, her voice had gone a little hoarse. "And we will reap the rewards for being faithful to Him."
"Indeed." Standing, he smoothed the clean lines of his slacks instinctively and gazed toward the door. Though he enjoyed the mere presence of her - Merlin knew she met him in his dreams often - he also knew that he had shown enough weakness. It was time to reapply the masque. "You should go."
With this, Georgina followed suit and fetched the empty cloth bag from the table. She understood men more than she understood her fellow women (her mother thought this ability was disgraceful). It was a rarity for them to show weakness, to show that they are not as self-sufficient as they seem to be. Smoothing the front of her dress, she turned back to Evan and smiled, reverting back to some degree of formality.
"Very well," she said, shrugging the empty bag back unto her shoulder, "It was lovely to see you again, Evan." She lingered momentarily by the front door before going back and giving him a quick kiss. Clearing her throat, she straightened up. "Well, goodbye."