WHO: Demeter Wiggleswade & Divya Vaisey WHAT: Dinner at Divya's WHEN: Friday 13th April WHERE: The Vaisey home WARNINGS: None
“A trillion galleons,” Divya restated as she dished out the casserole - her husband had sensibly retreated with his plate to the study, and the youngest Vaisey was in bed. “Will Rowle be counting the trillion himself?” She paused as she sat and reflected on this briefly. “Can Rowle count?”
Despite all the seriousness, the dread weighing down on her stomach, Demeter found that she was actually hungry and was able to laugh a little. She chuckled softly, her grateful smile lightening a touch more. “You know I’m not sure. Maybe someone should ask if he knows how many hundreds are in a trillion?”
Encouraged by the small lift in Demeter’s mood, Divya snorted. “They could, but he might decide it’s elongated questioning, and charge them with it.”
She lifted the goblet of wine to her lips and sipped. Even though she was trying to ensure Demeter had a good meal, she barely felt like eating herself. “Poor John. And Nora. And — well. Everyone, it’s been a rough week.”
Elongated questioning, Demeter quietly choked into her own drink as she took a sip at a very inopportune moment. After she recovered her breath she picked up her fork, gently prodded at the food but didn’t eat just yet. She was too distracted to eat, but also too distracted to silently admonish herself for playing with her food or seeming ungrateful. She prodded it again and pursed her lips slightly in uncomfortable thought.
“Rough week after rough week right now,” Demeter was unable to hide her easy return to despondence.
Divya couldn’t counter that, and platitudes wouldn’t work anyway, so she nodded. “It can feel hard to keep going, sometimes,” she admitted. “When friends, you know.”
She shuddered at the memory of Rhys on the livestream, undeserving of his fate.
Demeter felt some sort of chill, still staring down at her food. “I’m sorry,” she apologised quietly, one hand reaching to her own wine once more. “This looks really nice, Divya.” She gestured to the food in front of her.
Forcing herself to smile, Divya took a tentative bite of casserole. “Mm, thank you. But why are you apologising?”
“Force of habit, maybe.” Demeter countered, as honestly as possible.
“Alright. But you have nothing to apologise for,” Divya reminded her gently, not entirely referring to this moment.
Demeter hunched her shoulders up and then back down again, half a shrug and half a stretch, not having any way to word the questions that reminder had given her. She nodded briefly, another question coming to mind. “Are you going to keep working?”
“Of course. I have to,” Divya asserted. “Someone needs to try to keep at least some of the paperwork going through sensible. Corban’s power trip can’t last.”
Or at least, that’s what she hoped.
Confidence boosted a little, Demeter nodded again. “I want to keep working too. Every so often I sit and consider doing something rash — I suppose considering it doesn’t make it quite so rash.” It was clear that the question had been playing on her mind, feeling the loss of some of their other coworkers. “But knowing you’ll be there helps.”
“Rash helps no one,” Divya said, thinking of Anika and Jai back at Hogwarts. She couldn’t act on her impulses, not when her children were at such risk, and she no longer cared if that made her a coward. She wasn’t Gawain, or Maddie, or whoever else saw the world so black & white.
She sipped from her wine and forced a smile. “But it’s very normal to consider it, I’m sure everyone imagines how much quicker it would be if we all mutinied and locked Corban in a room by himself, but…”
“The idea is always tempting,” Demeter had to admit. But such an idea wouldn’t even cross her mind fully without being put to a full list of pros and cons, and some cautious debate. “But not tempting enough to try it right now.” Finally, she turned her attention properly to the food in front of her.