sorry for Ted spam today Who: Ted Tonks and Leon Stebbins What: Two friends cousins discussing current events. When: Backdated to Friday the 13th Where: A muggle pub somewhere in southern Ireland just because Warnings: Sads, mostly. Status: Complete!
This was an enormous risk for both of them. If someone caught up to them, Ted would go to Azkaban for “stealing” magic (which Leon still said was a huge crock of shit), and Leon would most likely join her for aiding a known fugitive - or at least for not telling the Snatchers that he was meeting her. He wouldn’t just lose his ability to help patients; he’d lose his freedom. But, he reminded himself, Ted already had lost both of those things. She wasn’t locked up yet, but she’d lost the ability to have a normal existence. If she could manage that, then he could manage taking a risk now and then, too.
He’d found a little pub tucked away well out of sights of wizarding communities, where it was less likely they’d be recognised and more likely no one would give them any mind whatsoever. They’d just be two people having a pint like everyone else.
The table he’d picked had a view of the front door and the door to the kitchens, because one could never be too careful anymore. Leon hated that this was the way things were now, everyone looking over their shoulders, trying to plan ahead for worst-case scenarios. He remembered the horror of the last war, and he shuddered to think about how they were reliving it now, only worse.
He’d ordered two beers -- a little presumptuous, maybe, but that way she wouldn’t have to bother with her herself -- and sat down to wait.
Ted had been rather tempted to come up with a glamour as far from her own appearance as possible, but had grudgingly had to admit that if someone saw Leon with a sullen teenage boy who was in no way dying for a slight chance of normalcy, there would be questions. He’d get in trouble. Ted wasn’t willing to let that happen.
And so it happened that she walked into the pub with the face of someone who could – with a little bit of imagination – pass for a Stebbins. A cousin, perhaps. Younger. A bit clueless. Definitely not a great dresser. And the hair –
Was really not the point, she had to remind herself, as she slid into the seat across from her friend. Not every glamour could have amazing hair.
“You have a cousin,” she said. “Right?” She took a sip from the beer she right assumed was hers before realising that, yes. A bit more than that might be useful, given her appearance. “Everyone has that annoying Welsh cousin they have to put up with when she comes to town. Or is that just me?”
The disguise only threw Leon off for a second. It was good -- better than he imagined it might be, honestly. She really did look like she could be family. It was perfect.
“Oh, yeah, she’s the worst,” Leon answered with a smile. “Can’t get rid of her no matter how hard I try.” He did wish that they’d come up with a backstory before, well, just that moment, but Leon was sure that he could roll with it. They were used to thinking quickly on their feet, after all. “It’s good to see you again, Gladys.” His smile widened, in hopes that it would both look like a family member happy to see their relative, and that Ted would get the hint to play along. He was already sorting through his family tree for where she could fit in, just in case he ever needed to know. “Hope it wasn’t too much trouble finding the place. How’ve you been? It’s been a while.”
“Life is ...interesting right now,” Ted said, mirroring his smile. That didn’t even begin to cover it, but there was only so much she could say. They should be safe here – she cast a quick Muffliato under the table as the thought crossed her mind – but she couldn’t be too careful. She had no plans to prove Dolores Umbridge right.
“How’s work?” she asked, genuinely wanting to know. Small talk had never been one of her strengths. “Tell me everything.”
It brought a smile to Leon’s face to see how little had changed. Ted was the same as she always had been, even underneath a disguise, wanting to talk more about work than what she was up to. It made sense, really. He was concerned about how she was doing, and she was concerned about the people she’d had to leave behind.
“Work is…” Leon hestitated. Nothing had gone wrong yet. No one had interfered with his patients or with his access to them. He had a feeling that wasn’t far off, though. After the recent attacks, both the Inferi and the werewolves, he had feared that St. Mungo’s leadership would crack down on who they were allowed to treat, mirroring the way their government had shunned Muggleborns. “The same as it ever was.” He felt a little guilty for saying that when so much else had changed, but so far, his job was untouched. “I worry it won’t be long before we see changes, though I hope not. My floor has been busy, but that’s nothing new. You heard about the match? And Tinworth?”
“I did, yeah.” She hadn’t been in the country at the time, but still managed to get regular updates. “I shouldn’t be surprised, and yet…”
They’d been through this before. It all felt so familiar, like being in her twenties with a child at home, trying to feign some level of normalcy. Except that the child was now having her own, and Ted couldn’t even be there for her. Not in the way she wanted to be.
“It’s good that things haven’t changed yet,” she said with a nod. “Anything that buys us a bit of time is good.” She nodded again, almost as if to convince herself. “That’s good.”
“And yet,” Leon echoed. He understood her meaning. He’d been young through most of the first war, but he remembered quite a bit. He remembered the whispers, he remembered how afraid his parents and grandparents had been, he remembered all of the deaths and disappearances. How had this happened again? He didn’t think he’d ever understand.
He took a long sip from his pint. He wished he could tell her good news, but he didn’t want to lie. “Could be I’m just paranoid. Could be nothing’ll change. But I don’t think we should be surprised when they start interfering. I’ve started stockpiling what I can. Not -- not stealing. From my own stores. So if you need anything…” His voice trailed off, figuring he didn’t need to actually put the offer to words. He was there; that should have been enough of a sign that he was willing to help.
“You’re not being paranoid,” Ted had to admit. “You’re being resourceful.” She had grabbed a few things herself, before she left work for the last time. She had even more hidden away, things she’d collected over the years, that were hopefully not too horribly out of date. And of course there were Order members capable of brewing potions, should she become truly desperate.
“Thanks,” she said. “I might, at some point. For now I’m doing okay, but you never know what kind of help people will need.” That was just the thing, wasn’t it? There was no way to truly prepare. You could give it your best shot, but in the end you had no idea what the universe – or the Death Eaters – would throw at you.
“Suppose that’s the difference between experience, and…” Leon shrugged. Not only did they expect the worst, they prepared for it. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Ted told him they’d had contingency plans upon contingency plans all these years, just in case. It felt terribly hopeless to think that way, but Leon had felt the hopefulness slip away with his youth. And to think he wasn’t even forty yet. Merlin.
Ted was right about never knowing what sort of help might be needed, too. He’d been pretty well-prepared to look after Remus in recent years, and that had benefitted him when Remus had called on him recently, too.
“Do you have a plan for where you’re going next?” he asked, specifically avoiding inquiring about where that might actually be -- or where she’d been. “How’s the family dealing with this?”
Ted shrugged, half expecting her normally pretty enormous hair to do it’s thing. It didn’t, of course. Which was still just another thing that made her feel a bit weird. Disjointed. “I haven’t decided,” she admitted. “I try not to think too far ahead. Makes it easier.”
She concentrated on her beer for a moment, unsure how to answer the question. “They say they’re fine,” she went with. “I hope it’s true. I see them for a day here and there, but not quite enough to make sure. It’s,” she downed a some more beer. “It’s not easy. Mostly I’m furious that this is our lives now. Again.”
That was smart, Leon thought. To keep it unpredictable, and to make it feel like less of a permanent thing for her. No, not permanent. Despite how cynical he’d become over the last few months, he refused to believe that it was going to be like this forever. They’d just… go through cycles, most likely. Not having much of a plan would’ve made it feel more like an extended holiday that Ted just had to get through before getting back to her regular life. He couldn’t even fathom what that must be like. He had glimpses, through his grandmum and through her, but it wasn’t the same.
Leon nodded. “I’m sorry…” He sighed. The words seemed so hollow. “It’s all rubbish. All of you deserve better than this.” But that seemed hollow, too, and it didn’t change anything. “Just words, I know. But for what it’s worth, it’s brave, what you’re doing. I would’ve tucked my tail and hid somewhere far away.”
“That would be the smart thing to do,” Ted had to admit. “I’ve just never been much for sitting quietly, even when I really should. I figure some of the muggleborns in hiding need to see someone openly challenging this idiocy. But that only works as long as they don’t catch up with me.”
She knew that she was, occasionally, careless. Reckless, even. What she did on the journals was reckless. What she was doing right now, sitting here as if her name wasn’t on a list of fugitives, was even more so. It would be safer to cut off all ties to the wizarding world. Disappear among muggles, let the rest of them fight this war. Come back when it was safe. She just couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“But enough about me. How’s your grandmother doing? Did she do it?”
Maybe it was a bit cowardly of him to consider fleeing. Leon wouldn't have thought poorly of anyone, but here he was, in a relatively good position, thinking about how easy it would be to run. He didn't have the same strength that Ted had in her. He could face a lot of things, but this -- it wasn't one.
“She did,” Leon answered, not elaborating on what ‘it’ was because he was sure he knew where Ted was going. “Told her not to, but -- she believed the Ministry was tryin’ to do right by them.” He scoffed. “Look how that's turned out.”
“At least she has family taking care of her,” Ted said, trying to find some semblance of a silver lining. She wouldn’t have been able to do this if she was in her eighties, she knew that much. “From what Dora said, it sounds like there are many who have nothing.”
“Yeah,” Leon agreed with a solemn nod, “at least she’s got us.” It was more than some had, that was sure. He’d seen the same things Dora had mentioned, and it broke his heart a little more each time. “Dunno how they can do this to people after everything they’ve given us.” There was no logic to be found in any of it.
Quickly, Leon finished what was left in his glass. “Want to play a round or two of darts? I can’t imagine you came all this way to talk depressing shit over a beer when we think about it all the time as it is.”
“That sounds amazing,” Ted said. “And after I beat you I’ll buy you that beer I promised.”