WHO: Birdie Proudfoot and her mom, Charlotte Stoica WHAT: A long overdue conversation. WHEN: Early morning, 12/1/18 WHERE: Birdie's house WARNINGS: Nah
The sound of a phone ringing the first two times was enough to wake Birdie, she'd always been a light sleeper and had trained herself to wake at the slightest sound. Blindly, she reached for her phone and checked the time, noting that it was a good thirty minutes before her usual waking time. Cursing she hit the 'accept' button.
"'ello."
"Well, if it isn't my long lost daughter."
"Ma?"
"Oh, you remember me, do you? After nothing more than radio silence on Christmas and a text telling me you're, and I quote, "alive and kicking", on New Years?"
Birdie sighed, rolling her eyes and getting out of bed to make her way to the kitchen. This sounded like it was going to take a while and if she had any hope of making it through her mother's ranting then she was going to need coffee.
"And then, this morning, I received a package with a copy of Monday Evening's Prophet with an interesting report. A report that just so happened to mention a few quotes from one Hitwizard Bridget Proudfoot."
Internally she groaned, of course, that stupid article would be what finally set her mom off.
"Mom, it's not what it looks like—"
"Oh, it's not what it looks like, is it? Because from where I'm sitting it looks like you're a member of a department that is in shambles, risking your life for a government that has obviously been hijacked by terrorists and a country that is on the brink of becoming a disaster zone. Not only that, but apparently you're being attacked by Death Eaters in your own home."
"I wasn't attacked! He just burnt my front door down. But I got another one from Robards's house and it's all fine now. And anyway how the shit do you know about that? Are you spying on me?"
"No, you ridiculous girl, Mrs. Ellison from across the street from you keeps watch and reports back to me every once in awhile. And good thing she does or else I would never know about a Lestrange attacking your home."
"Wow, ignoring how invasive and totally unnecessary that is—,"
"I don't care. The only thing I care about is your safety and making sure you don't come home in a body bag. I know you, Bridget, you're too much like your father, too unafraid and willing to play fast and loose with your own life."
And look where that got him, though the words were unspoken Birdie could hear them loud and clear. Sighing, she ran her hand across her face.
"Look, Ma, I'm fine. I'm as careful as I can be, I've upped the wards on the house, I have my guns and I go to the range regularly. I have evac plans in place and go bags ready in case of an emergency. I'm as prepared as I can be and there's nothing more that I can do."
There was silence as her mother seemed to consider her next words.
"You could come home." As if sensing the imminent protests she continued, "no one would fault you if you did. That's not your home or your war and you don't owe them anything."
"I can't do that, mom, and you know it. And you can't ask me to leave, either, not when you charged into this war the first go 'round. It may not be my home, but it's the closest thing I've got to one and I'm not leaving until this war is over."
Her mother's sigh was almost deafening over the phone. Birdie could almost picture her now, sitting in her office long after everyone else had left for the day, probably with that stupid copy of the stupid Daily Prophet in front of her.
Birdie wanted to apologize, wanted to take her words back and instead promise that she would return. Instead, she waited for her mother to say something.
"You're right. When the tide finally turns they're going to need you there, but that means that you're going to have to be more careful from now on. You need to pick your battles better if you're going to survive this war and come back to me alive."
Charlotte continued on, not waiting for any half-assed promises.
"I mean it, Bridget. I've already lost your father, I cannot lose you, too. Do you understand me?" Her voice was stern the way it was when she would scold Birdie as a kid.
"Yes, ma'am."
They didn't need to say anything else, they both knew that Birdie couldn't guarantee her survival, that the chances of her dying were high. But they also knew that she would do whatever it took to survive, that there wasn't a situation on Earth she wouldn't try to fight her way out of.
"Good. Now please tell me you're not just working yourself ragged over there, or drinking yourself to a FUBAR'd kidneys and liver."
Birdie laughed, happy to have something else to talk about. Settling into her seat she started in on everything she'd been up to for the past six months. She was definitely going to be late for work but she didn't care. Yaxley could just go ahead and fuck himself.