Eddie Carmichael (edasich) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-05-18 17:52:00 |
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Mr Perkins was mid-40s, divorced, and sitting calm and complacent between Eddie and his father. Eddie wasn't sure what exactly Lestrange had done to get the man or keep him there, but he looked unhurt, at least as far as Eddie could see. He took what comfort he could in that. He should have known this was coming. One could practice fire whips and defensive shielding without a living target, but Obliviation required a mind, and it could not have been clearer how little care Lestrange would give to some Muggle guinea pig. And the worst part was, Eddie badly wanted to learn it. He didn't even know what he would do with the knowledge but it didn't matter. Obliviation was complicated, fascinating magic and Eddie loved a challenge. The occasional accidental stabbing aside, he enjoyed training and learning from his family, and he was good at what he learned. But there was Mr Perkins, looking at him with a vague, curious expression. So maybe that wasn't the worst part after all. Eddie's wand was loose in his grip, ready to follow his father's movements to a T and, he hoped, not cause any real damage to the man in front of them. “We’ll start with something small,” Rabastan proposed, gaze flickering between Eddie and the muggle. Eddie seemed keen and eager, as per. It was heartening, but Rabastan wished his son showed the same interest in the Unforgivables. But this was not time the time to worry about such things. Then, with a smile that lacked mirth, he continued: “This… muggle works at a bank in London. I am going to erase the memory of one his transactions. I want you to watch me carefully.” He raised his wand as his attention snapped back to Perkins. “Obliviate.” His eyes were intent as he began to trim the man’s memories, excising the last five minutes of Perkins’ work day. As Eddie watched his father work, his curiosity overwhelmed his moral trepidation, and as the spell ended, a series of questions streamed out of him. "How can you tell it worked? Is he going to realize it's missing, or not even give it a thought? Is it easier with newer memories? I think it would have to be, right? They're clearer and more defined. Older things must get more muddled as time goes on. Plus, what if that memory is linked to others, like they're built on it because it starts getting associated with other things, that must be harder to isolate. Oh, and if someone else were to look into his memories, would they be able to tell something was missing? Er—" Eddie stopped for a moment, looking sheepishly at his father. "Sorry. That was a lot." Rabastan raised an eyebrow as he suppressed a smirk. “You’re a Ravenclaw. I’d expect nothing less.” Eddie's sheepish look made a subtle shift into something prouder, and he nodded, eager to learn. “He won’t notice it’s missing, but he won’t be able to recall any details if questioned about it. It is more difficult with older memories, but it isn’t impossible. As for your last question, it depends on the skill of the caster and the skill of the person rifling through his memories.” Rabastan shrugged. “I would probably be able to detect your work. My work, however, is virtually imperceptible.” Nodding along, Eddie made a point of mimicking the proper movement without actually casting the spell. "What's the weirdest thing you've ever had to obliviate?" he asked. “Salazar, where do I even begin?” Rabastan’s expression turned thoughtful as he ran his hands across his stubble. “In the late 90s, some halfblood thought it would be a good idea to give themselves a frog-like tongue. I believe they were inspired by one of those muggle gaming devices.” There was a disgusted shake of his head before he continued: “He turned himself into a half-human half-frog creature and ran around his neighborhood. A neighborhood filled with muggles.” "That's brilliant," Eddie laughed. "I can picture that, sure. There's a bloke comes into the Wyvern sometimes who looks like that, though his might be natural." “That doesn’t surprise me. The Wyvern draws some interesting types.” Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie caught sight of Mr Perkins again. A twinge of guilt came back through him, but they were already there. Eddie was good at Charms; he could do this right the first time, he was confident. And then they could put Mr Perkins back where the found him, no (real) harm, now foul. "So … can I just isolate an incident? Another transaction?" “Another transaction would be best, I think.” Rabastan gave the muggle a disdainful look. “Don’t worry about making a mistake. One lost day won’t kill him. And if you do kill him, well…” Eddie froze, wand raised just above the banker's ear. He took a quick, deep breath, but just before he could begin the spell, he lowered his wand again and looked at his father. "Okay, I need to know if you can actually kill someone by obliviating them before I do this." “I doubt it’s impossible, but I’ve never known it to happen,” Rabastan admitted. Then, somewhat awkwardly, he reached out to give Eddie an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “Try not to worry too much about the muggle.” This, of course, only made Eddie worry more about the muggle, but he could get past that. It would be fine. He took one more steadying breath and performed the spell, taking away the memory of the orange-haired woman and the deposit she made. He waited to see if anything happened, but Mr Perkins seemed just as content as usual. "Did it … work?" Rabastan gave Eddie a grim look. “I… think you erased his memories of his wedding day.” "What?" Eddie's eyes went wide. "No, I … it was just a transaction! I—" Laughing, Rabastan gave Eddie a congratulatory slap on the back. “That was a joke, Edasich. It worked.” A beat later, after the panic subsided, Eddie grinned broadly. He laughed along with his father, annoyed at himself for falling for what must have been a pretty standard obliviation prank, but amused by it anyway. "It worked," he repeated. "I mean, it was probably a pretty boring memory, anyway." “It wasn’t a neat obliviation, but it certainly wasn’t bad for your first try.” Rabastan gave Eddie a scrutinizing look. “Do you want to learn how to plant false memories too?” Eddie nodded. 'Wasn't bad' wasn't exactly the feedback he was looking for; this time, he would do better. “All right.” Rabastan made a thoughtful noise as he looked at the other man, mentally rifling through ideas for memories. There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he raised his wand, making quick circular movements as he murmured an incantation. Then, after a beat passed. “He now thinks the bank was robbed at the end of the day. Two people died.” "But—" Eddie's eyes found Mr Perkins' forehead and stayed there. His brow creased with concern and he could not quite look over at Lestrange. He cleared his throat. "But isn't it better to go with something innocuous? Won't this just … bring more attention to the fact that something's wrong, when he goes back?" “Would you like to change it to something else?” Rabastan asked, studying Eddie’s face very carefully. The back of Eddie's neck felt warm under the gaze, but after a moment, he gave a definitive nod. This was a learning opportunity. The deep end of the pool, maybe, but a chance to learn, and that was all Lestrange needed to know Eddie saw in it. "Yeah. Yes, I can do that." A slight tremble in his hands while casting betrayed his nerves and damaged the memory (a simple, innocuous conversation with a coworker about the weather) he tried to implant, and he let out a groan of frustration. “Relax,” his father instructed, aiming his wand at the back of the muggle’s head. The damage was mended easily enough, but why not take advantage of their test subject? “Is there another spell you’d like to try? It might be good to practice. You never know when the Order of the Phoenix will try to pull something.” "I think I just want to let this stuff sink in," Eddie said with a stray glance at Mr Perkins. The man shouldn't be there, and Eddie didn't want him kept any longer than was already done. "It's complicated, and too much at once and I could get things mixed up." It was not a good excuse for an eager learner like Eddie, but it was the best he could come up with. Rabastan lifted an eyebrow. “All right.” Then, motioning toward the muggle, “I need to get this thing back to Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix has been cooped up for so long, I’m sure she’ll appreciate something to play with.” Eddie's breath caught. "I thought we were putting him back." “I don’t remember saying I was going to put him back.” "But he didn't do anything. He's—" Eddie swallowed his words, but too late. He knew this was a losing battle. He should have known this would happen the moment he agreed to lessons, but he went through with it anyway. Still, quietly, he said, "He doesn't deserve Bellatrix." “He’s a muggle, Eddie,” Rabastan replied, giving the man in question a disdainful look. “He deserves worse than Bellatrix.” "He's a bank teller," Eddie said. "His boring job is punishment enough." The look Rabastan gave his son was a cool one. “Why are you so attached to him?” "Because…" Eddie tried to hold his father's look but shied away from it and looked at the muggle instead. He couldn't hold that look, either, so he found some middle ground between the two. "Because I've seen inside his head and he's just a guy. He's just a normal guy and isn't the whole point of obliviation that you can put them back and nobody's the wiser?" “Muggles aren’t like us, though.” Rabastan’s tone was firm and matter-of-fact. Again, he reached for Eddie’s shoulder. “Don’t feel sorry for him, Eddie. He wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you if he knew what you were. History has proven that.” "What we are are the people who kidnapped him and fucked with his head," Eddie said. He straightened his shoulders. "If somebody did that to me, I'd want to hurt them too." Rabastan blinked. “We fucked with his — you wanted Obliviation lessons. How else are you supposed to learn?” "I thought you had—I don't know, practice dummies? Model brains?" Eddie gestured toward the unnervingly complacent muggle. "You can't possibly train all your new Obliviators on random muggles, right? What if there's fuck ups? That can't possibly be ethical. I mean, not that that matters now but it must have before, right?" “Practice dummies,” Rabastan repeated, mouth curving into a smile. “An Obliviator must practice on a living creature. This—” He gestured to Perkins. “This is a creature. There’s no need to get upset.” Eddie set his jaw and looked his father in the eye. "Don't give him to Bellatrix." There was a weighted pause as Rabastan held his gaze. “I see,” he said, not bothering to mask his disappointment. He did see: he saw that Eddie would never be a Death Eater. He saw that Eddie was too soft, too tainted by his friends in the Order. “If that’s what you want.” He flicked a stunning spell at the man, who immediately slumped over in his chair. “I think that’s enough for today.” A lump formed in Eddie's throat. He nodded, trying not to wither under his father's disappointed gaze. "We could … get dinner," he suggested haltingly. "Or … go to a pub, or something." “Are you sure you want to be seen with me? It could make things more awkward for you.” "It's not…" Eddie's brow furrowed. "I don't care about that. It's not like people don't know." “All right, Edasich.” Rabastan managed a slight smile. Some of his disappointment evaporated — perhaps Eddie wasn’t such a lost cause after all. “We’ll put the muggle back first.” He gave a short nod, then went to collect the unconscious man. "I— Thank you." “Just this once,” Rabastan warned him. “I won’t be so soft-hearted next time.” Eddie nodded, because now he knew. There wasn't going to be a next time. "I'll be … more prepared," he lied. “It’s best to not think of them as people,” Rabastan suggested, before he gave Eddie another pat on the back. “Now, where would you like to go for dinner?” "The Crafty Crup's got a new owner and she swears they've cleared up that doxy problem," Eddie suggested, eager for the topic change. "And even with the doxies, they have the best shepherd's pie in Knockturn…" |