Who: Will Cadwallader, Chelsea Corner and Dolores Umbridge, with a side of Emmy and Eurig. What: Panic. Subterfuge. Apologies. Also, the MRC. When: Yesterday and today, the 11th-12th. Where: The Ministry, the Tornadoes training grounds, some other stuff. Warnings: Swearing? Status: Complete!
Phone conversation; January 11th
Emmy: You told me not to contact you unless it was an emergency. Will: That’s the thing. It kind of is. Emmy:(sigh) What did you do now? Will: I fucked up. Emmy: Well, obviously. Will: I need you to convince your parents to let me hide them. Right now. Today. Emmy: What? Will: They want Eurig back at school. Like, a lot. More than I expected. Emmy: What does that even mean? Will: My guess? If we don’t bring him back ‘llI end up in prison. Your parents might end up dead, if we’re unlucky. Emmy: Eurig told me stuff. Did you see the scar? On his hand? Will: No. He wouldn’t let me. Emmy: They carved shit into him, Will! I’m not letting him go back there. No way. I don’t care what they say. I’m done with magic. Done. Will: Normally I would argue that, but I’m pretty sure that putting him in a magical school in France or anywhere else in the world right now is a terrible idea. So, um, hate magic all you want, we can discuss that some other time. Your parents, though? Emmy: They’re not killing Mum and Dad and they’re not throwing you in jail. God, are wizards all insane? Will: Some. Not all. Emmy: Okay. Let’s come up with a plan. Will:(sigh of relief) Thank you. So much. Emmy: Don’t get used to this, okay? You’re still Fuck Me It’s Him Again in my phone. Will: You’re What Was I Thinking in mine. Emmy: That’s lovely, Will. Really makes me want to help you. Will: I need you to talk to them. They won’t listen to me. I’m serious. This could––I mean, I don’t know for sure, but they could go after them. I don’t want that. Emmy: You hate my mum. Will: I don’t want her dead! Emmy: Okay, so… if I talk them into it, you do the rest? Money, travel, all that? Whatever they need? Will: I got that part. I just need them to take me seriously. These people don’t screw around, all right? Emmy: All right. Sure. I can do that. Will: You sure? Emmy: I’m sure. Will: Okay, so… the rest? I need a story. A good one. Emmy: How good? Will: Solid. 100%. Emmy: You’re so bad at that shit. Will: That’s why I’m asking you. You’re great at it. Emmy: I feel like I should be offended by that. Will: You know what I mean! Emmy: Yeah. So, what do they need? Will: Something that assures them I’m not at fault. Emmy: So blame the gross muggle. Will: That could come back to bite you. If they ever find you or your parents–– Emmy: Ever? Will: Until we win. Whenever that is. Emmy: You said six months. Will: I lied. Emmy:Will. Will: I’m sorry, all right? I’m sorry. I just––I need help. Emmy:(without heat) I wish I’d never met you. Will: Ditto. Emmy: Okay, so. You get Mum and Dad to safety. As soon as you can. I’ll move us… I don’t know, but France is good. Not here, though. Somewhere new. To be safe. Will: Yep. Emmy: And then you go into that office or wherever they’re doing this. And you lie. You spin some tale about your evil ex and how you love your son and I don’t even know what. Make them think we’re hiding in Britain somewhere, if you can. Will: I’ll try. Emmy: No. Don’t ‘try’. Just do it. Will: Okay. Emmy: Mum and Dad first. Promise. Will: I promise. Emmy: Phone me after, all right? Wait, should I get a new phone? Again? Will: Yes. Do that. Emmy: This is like a movie or something. I’m the hot spy. The femme fetale. Will: Emmy... Emmy: Right, right. I should probably go call Mum anyway. Will: Please do. Emmy: This’ll work. I know you’re bricking it, but it’ll work. And I’ll hold it over your head for-fucking-ever. Will: I hate you. Emmy: I hate you more. Will: So, talk to you after? Emmy: Yeah. Will: Tell Eurig–– Emmy: No. You tell him yourself. Next time. Will: Okay. Let’s do this.
* * *
Chelsea wanted to believe that her slow steps were in aid of something — maybe because she was taking such a long time to get there, then Will Cadwallader could get away and she didn't have to show up and take him to the MRC. Maybe it would make her feel better about what she was doing.
Her steps weren't slow enough to change her mind, suddenly decide to fight back against her orders, and they weren't slow enough to stop her from approaching Will, clearing her throat, and, with apology written all over her, saying, "The Muggleborn Registration Commission has some questions for you."
And here it was. It was almost a relief, in a way. The Joneses were safely hidden away. He had his story worked out. No running. Just lying. Convincingly. As long as they didn’t have a Legilimens – But he wasn’t going to let himself think on that just yet.
“So this is what happens,” he said, pulling together the papers – detailing a few plays for the game later in the week – and standing up. He’d hit the gym at the training ground when he got here, and then the showers, hoping it’d make it look as if he’d been here all morning. “I guess now we know, right?”
There was nothing she could say to make it okay, short of taking everything back. Chelsea tried to smile at him, trying for reassuring, landing on uncomfortable. She was uncomfortable with this entire situation. "I don't w— I'm really sorry for this," she said, but still gesturing for him to start moving. "It'll be quick." She didn't know if it would be.
“I know you are,” Will said. “I hate that they’re making you do this.” She had her brother at Hogwarts. She hadn’t wanted him to go back. And now she was here to bring him in for doing exactly what she’d wanted to do. “Can I send a text to my cousin before we go?” he asked as they walked towards the exit. “Just so he knows where I am?”
Chelsea nodded, adding, "Yes, of course." She wanted to apologize again, but it had already felt wrong the first time. "You can take your time. Well, not — you can let whoever needs to know whatever they need to know."
“Thanks,” Will said, bringing up Rhys’ messages on his phone. He wasn’t sure who else to tell. If he was lucky Chelsea was right and it’d be fairly quick. If it wasn’t… well. Rhys could tell people, he supposed. If it came to that. He tapped in a message, trying not to sound as if he was freaking out too much (a lie, if there ever was one), and slipped his phone back in his pocket. “Let’s get this over with,” he said, managing to sound mostly calm. Mostly. “Sorry again, for making you do this.”
The reassurance came quick. "You haven't made me do anything." Another apology was swallowed down. "Let's go."
* * *
Flashing Chelsea a last, apologetic smile Will took a deep breath and walked into the MRC. He’d chosen not to run for the sake of his family, but looking at the disingenous smile on Dolores’ Umbridges face he couldn’t help but wonder if it had been the wrong choice.
“I’m here,” he said. “Let’s talk.”
“Good day, Mr, Cadwallader,” Dolores smiled with fake pleasantries. “So pleased you could come in today.” Though she knew it had not been his choice, but from what she understood he had come quietly without protest. She gestured to the seat across from her desk. “I wished to speak with you regarding the location of your son,” she paused looking to her papers, “Eurig.” Dolores looked at Will as if to confirm that was correct but carried on anyway, “Eurig has not returned to school after the winter holidays and no petition for his removal for illness has been made. I am sure you are aware that attendance to Hogwarts is legally mandatory for school aged children.” Her tone sickly sweet but it couldn’t hide the intention behind the words.
“Well, here’s the thing,” Will said, taking a seat. “Eurig’s mother and I broke up thirteen years ago. We don’t really talk. It’s a whole… thing. I don’t get on very well with her family either, so Christmas is a bit of a challenge, let’s put it that way.”
If they ever found Emmy or her parents they’d be fucked. They’d meet the most gruesome death he could imagine, but she’d given her permission. She’d suggested it, even. And here he was, trying to follow the script she’d spelled out for him.
It all hinged on him, now. And wasn’t that an unsettling thought?
“I can’t say that I wanted him to go back,” Will went on, doing his best to sell the story they’d come up with. “At one point I seriously considered letting him stay home after, you know, everything I’ve heard. But I realised that wasn’t wise, and that the best for Eurig would be to return to school. It was just that by that time she’d stopped answering my calls. I have no idea where they are right now. I’m sorry.”
“I see,” Dolores said and she looked at Will for a moment sizing him up. She then turned to look down at the file in front of her. She cleared her throat with a hem-hem. “When was the last time you saw your son?” She moved to trap him into stating something. “Do you know where you ex would take your son as it is very apparent her home is empty with no cause to return?”
“She picked him up at my place on New Year’s Day.” That was the day he’d gotten rid of Eurig’s ID, dropping it down a sewer grate down by the harbour. If they tracked the IDs like Rhys thought, they should be able to verify him ‘leaving’ Will’s flat. At least that was what he hoped for. “She said they might go down to London for a few days? But like I said, if she was planning to take him and run, I’m the last person she’d tell.”
He hated this. He hated blaming this on her. He hated sending them all away, and sit here, hoping he wasn’t walking into something he couldn’t get out of.
“Her parents have a place down in Cornwall?” he suggested, fumbling for something to say. Anything that sounded vaguely plausible. He’d practiced with Emmy last night, but it was very hard to remember the specifics when he knew that Oliver’s father had been walked from this office and into a holding cell. “They go there during the summers sometimes. Not this time of year, though.” “I see,” she nodded her head looking at her papers again. “We have attempted to speak with your ex’s parents but they appear to have left, rather suddenly,” she smiled at him. She turned over another piece of paper.
Resting her hands in her lap she looked at Will with a serene look of calm on her face. “Mr. Cadwallader, I wish to stress upon the importance of this situation. If you are found to have any involvement, any at all, with the disappearance of your son and your ex’s family you will be tried alongside them. Is it worth going to Azkaban over? If you know anything at all, please tell me now. It will go exceedingly better for you to cooperate.” Her voice sickly sweet as if she was telling him good news. “What you ex has done is illegal, Mr. Cadwallader and we are taking it very seriously. I just hope you know what position you are putting yourself in protecting them. I do implore you to hear reason and give us any information you know. Else there is no helping you later.”
“I know,” Will said quickly. “I know, I know, it’s just – I was, I was twenty-one, all right? We dated like, six months. I love my son and I don’t regret him for a second but… we didn’t have a baby because we were compatible and loved each other and all that crap, okay? It just happened and we’ve spent over a decade fighting about literally everything. So…”
Was he overselling it? He wasn’t lying to her about their relationship, but this was more than he’d ever tell a government official. And maybe if the panicked fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck that was rushing through his brain could slow down he’d be able to stop and think long enough to figure out if he was following the agreed upon script, or if he was screwing it all up.
He should’ve just run for it.
“If I knew,” he went on, trying to sound calm. “I’d bring him home, okay?”
Dolores listened to him speak, she felt the urge to cut him off more than once. Then came the hem-hem as it appeared he came to the end of his rambling. “I am not here to judge your relationship with your ex. I am here to find the whereabouts of your son. I do hope for your sake you are telling the truth that you don’t know where he is. We will be looking for him and this matter will not end here.” She smiled at Will, “And we do hope you will cooperate and let us know if you hear anything, as it is in your best interests to do so if you would like at least one parental figure to remain out of Azkaban.” Dolores said as if this was something good a pleasant honour.
“We will be checking in with you again, please be available for further questions.” She closed her file, a bit annoyed she could not get anything further from him.
“Okay,” Will said. “Of course. I’ll, um, I’ll be looking for him too. Obviously.”
“That is greatly appreciated,” Dolores said sweetly with a head tilt as she placed her hands on top of her paperwork. “I will be seeing you, Mr. Cadwallader, have a pleasant day.”
* * *
Phone conversation; January 12th
Emmy: So? Will: They’re safe. Emmy: And you? Will: If they ever find out I was involved I’m so fucked. But for now, yeah. Emmy: Good. When are Mum and Dad coming here? Will: Um, I don’t know? We need to find a way out of the country. We found a safe place for them in the meantime. I gave them a phone. They’ll call you later, though you probably shouldn’t–– Emmy: I know, I know. One phone call, though. Just to hear their voices. Will: Yeah. Okay. I’ll let you know, all right? Emmy: Sure. Eurig wants to speak with you. Will: He’s there? Emmy: Yeah. Hang on. Eurig:(excitedly) Dad! Will: Hey buddy. Eurig: You’re okay? Will: I’m okay. Eurig: Can’t you come here too? Will: I can’t, I’m sorry. Eurig: Why not? Will: I need to stay with Uncle Rhys for now. Eurig: Oh. Will: I’m sorry. I’ll try to phone every now and then. We can’t do it too often though. Eurig: But you’re not going to Azkaban? Will: No. Eurig: You sure? Will: I’m sure. Eurig: Are you lying? Will:(pause) Yeah. I’m sorry. I can’t promise that, but I can promise I will do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen. Eurig: Okay. Will: I need to go now, all right? I love you. Eurig: Love you too, Dad. Will: I’ll call you when I can. Probably not soon, though. The Ministry aren’t happy with me. Eurig: You didn’t do anything! Will: I know, I know. But they’re... Eurig: Stupid. Will: Well, that’s one word for it. Eurig: I have worse words for them. But Mum... Emmy:(grabbing the phone) Mum thinks that we should hang up now and not take unnecessary risks. Call again when you know when they’ll be here. Will: All right. I’ll talk to you soon, I hope. Emmy: You better. Will: Bye, then. Emmy: Bye. Idiot.