caroline dufort-podmore (ootp) (runework) wrote in disorderic, @ 2017-10-20 12:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | caroline dufort-podmore, dedalus diggle |
WHO: Caroline Dufort-Podmore & Dedalus Diggle (plus Applesauce the rabbit).
WHAT: Order parents fret and ward together.
WHEN: Backdated a day or two, maybe?
WHERE: The house of purple top hats and bow ties.
WARNINGS: Discussions of dark themes, but nothing bad happening on page.
“I really appreciate this, you know! I mean, I know I say it a lot, but I do, I really do! I never really thought I’d have to do all this again, especially not with… well,” Dedalus said, making a face as he swept down the hall toward his daughter’s room. She was with her mother for the weekend, and so he’d decided that this was the perfect time to go over security at the house. He didn’t want her to think anything was wrong and get worried, after all. She was only seven years old; she deserved to relish her childhood innocence for as long as possible without having to know about all of the terrible adult problems of the world. He’d had those illusions shattered fairly early on; Marjorie deserved much better. Dedalus looked up at Caroline and sighed. “And what about you? How are you feeling? Are you feeling fairly secure, safe? Your family?” He gave her a small, anxious smile. Innocence, of course, was the first thing lost in a war. Caroline, born in a peaceful time, had been afforded hers, so aside from Marjorie’s own personal safety, the wards were intended to preserve that belief: that nothing would harm you, that your parents were the unbreachable wall between you and the rest of the world, for as long as possible. Aidan and Amelia had theirs right up until the moment Dumbledore announced that Voldemort was back. It was stacked against Marjorie, but Dedalus was determined that she would keep her childhood for as long as possible—and the rest of the Order was with him. “I-” she lifted up her gaze from where she was examining a runestone about to be placed on the bedside table “-I almost wish that they were Marjorie’s age, and I could just pack them up and smuggle them out of the country without any need for a consensus. But you have to allow them the independence that they’re earned, I suppose.” “I suppose,” Dedalus agreed with a nervous chuckle, not because there was anything particularly funny about that, but because the idea—of sending a child away, of not sending a child away—unsettled him. He couldn’t imagine being apart from her, and yet he couldn’t help but wonder whether even that was selfish. “At least since they’re older, they may be able to enjoy the experience more. It’s an adventure! Like taking a gap year—they’ll get to explore and come back more worldly. Marjorie doesn’t know anyone outside of here.” The thought of his little girl feeling frightened and abandoned after being sent away to stay with some stranger while he stayed behind made him feel ill. He bent and picked up Marjorie’s pet rabbit from its pen and clutched it to his chest, stroking it anxiously as he looked toward Caroline and her runestone. “What does that one do?” he asked. Amelia in particular wouldn’t buy it if she phrased it that way—an adventure. If it came to it, Caroline would simply have to be honest with them. That she was a part of the resistance and an asset to it, but she wouldn’t be able to commit to it wholly if she had one eye still on them. She turned the runestone over in her hand. “Oh, nothing that will affect anyone who’s added to your property wards. But if those become breached for whatever reason? Well, let’s just say that if what I’ve added to those haven’t finished them off, this one will do the job quite thoroughly.” Dedalus nodded hesitantly at first, then a bit more firmly, decisively. While he’d never set out to be a violent person, two wars and countless atrocities had convinced him to do whatever was necessary to keep his family safe. He knew all too well what could happen to people who didn’t. “Yes, good. Thank you. I appreciate it! I’ll make sure it stays where it is,” he said, cuddling the rabbit a little bit tighter. “I hope we’ll never have to use them, but I feel better knowing they’re there. You know, just in case. She didn’t ask to have a vigilante for a father, but here we are. I can’t say I ever expected to be both at the same time either, for that matter! But yes, safety first, always.” “If anyone dares to come near our children? They deserve what they get.” She set the stone down on the table. It had at least been charmed a pretty shade of sky blue to match the rest of his daughter’s room, if Dedalus chose to leave it out. Still, she would recommend hiding it somewhere Marjorie would not see and be tempted to move it. Her eyes flickered to the rabbit in his arms, a small smile crossing her lips. “Applesauce and the rest of the pets are safe, don’t worry.” Dedalus nodded in fervent agreement; he wouldn't shed any tears for anyone maimed or killed in the act of attempting to harm his child—or any child, really. He didn't need to say anything, as he knew that Caroline would understand. “That's wonderful! I don't think Applesauce is in any danger of becoming a dark wizard—are you, Applesauce?” He smiled at the rabbit. Applesauce wriggled his nose in response. Caroline laughed. “If only all dark wizards were as charming as Applesauce.” Dedalus returned his gaze to Caroline, concern once again creasing his features. “Can you think of anything else? You can tell me honestly.” “Perhaps something that Marjorie could carry with her, some sort of protective charm.” Caroline pondered. “I could work on an item of jewelry. And something special for her room at Justine’s place, if she doesn’t mind me coming over sometime again. You have a dog here, so that’s something.” If the wards were undone, a dog would at least alert the occupants to any intruder’s presence, and seconds could save lives. “Justine won't mind,” Dedalus said quickly. Marjorie’s mother cared just as much about her safety, though she hadn’t an inkling of just how much danger she was in. As far as she knew, Dedalus was an entertainer and father, nothing more. “Marjorie will like jewellery, though— just make sure it's something with some kind of creature on it, and she'll never take it off.” He smiled fondly without even realising he was doing it. “Muggle or magical, or is she not picky?” “She’s not picky,” Dedalus said without hesitation, though he soon thought better of it, “Actually, magical is probably better. I wouldn’t want to, you know, make her a target or anything in this climate.” He forced another sadder smile. However, even that soon faltered. “I never had to worry about any of this when I was her age. Even when our parents died, I don't remember being scared.” He winced slightly at the ‘our’, even so many years later. He paused before continuing, “I hope she isn't scared. And if she is, I hope she'd tell me. Seven year olds don't lie to their fathers yet, do they?” Caroline caught the wince, but didn’t remark upon it. “Seven year olds do lie, but they’re generally not adept at hiding their feelings. She may tell you that she’s not scared, but you would be able to observe otherwise if it were so. It is nerve-wracking,” she allowed after a pause, “being a parent during a war. I never thought that I would have to do it twice.” He nodded, adjusting his hold on Applesauce to ensure the rabbit was still sitting comfortably. “I can only imagine how you must feel,” Dedalus commented, sympathetic. “I never expected to do it once. I guess I’d thought that after all these years… well. Who’d have thought I’d have to do this all again at this age? I was twenty the first time around. Sturgis and I were just kids. Kids like the kids that have joined us now, you know? We all gave so much the first time around that I guess I’d thought we’d earned a bit of happiness in our—well, I wouldn’t say old—more mature age, is all.” He let out a nervous chuckle and pinched at the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. He tried to steady his nerves, taking a deep breath before adding, “But look at you! You made it out! Your family’s in one piece! You’ve got it all figured out!” And Dedalus’s comment had touched upon yet another of her issues. How uncomfortable she was with the presence of so many younger members in the Order. Not simply because of their age—Death Eaters didn’t distinguish between the young and the old, and Caroline was of the view that they had as much right to fight for their future as anyone else—but this, this second war when there ought never to have been one. Voldemort should have been the problem of one generation alone, and now he was back for another. We have failed them. Instantly she gave her head a brief shake, as though jiggling the thought loose, and smiled back at Dedalus. “Well, as long as I appear to have it figured out, that’s as good as anything else, I suppose.” |