Dedalus Diggle (misdirection) wrote in disorderic, @ 2017-10-23 11:39:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | dedalus diggle |
WHO: Dedalus Diggle and Marjorie Gillespie-Diggle.
WHAT: A father-daughter wildlife-watching trip. :)
WHEN: Today.
WHERE: Kent, England.
WARNINGS: Dementors, mentions of death and violence.
“Dad, Dad! Did you see when she waved at me? She just put up her flipper and—” Marjorie let go of her father’s hand for a moment to wave it like a flipper in demonstration, her brown curls bouncing beneath a brightly-coloured bow. “The seals were soooooooo cute! Can I get one? She could hang out in the bath. I promise I’d take reeeeeeeally good care of her, Dad! You know I would! She and Applesauce would be BFFs! I’m already thinking up the friendship bracelets!” Dedalus chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, I have no doubt that they would be! I’ll have to go talk to the seal’s parents, see if they wouldn’t mind her having a sleepover! In the meantime, you’ve got a seal right there, don’t you?” Marjorie looked from the plush seal in her arm to Dedalus with a skeptical expression. “This is a toy.” she frowned, clearly offended by that ridiculous suggestion. Dedalus happily ignored it. He took her hand again as they climbed the stairs leading away from the docks, watching carefully to ensure she didn’t slip. Oddly, the air seemed to grow colder the higher they climbed. “Did you have a fun time, at least? Did you see the ingret? They’re quite rare, you know!” The little girl—whose attention span was just as short as her father’s—nodded enthusiastically, already having forgotten what she’d been frowning about. “Yes, and I’m going to tell everyone! They’re going to be sooooooo jealous! I’m the best bird-watcher out of all my friends—” As she leapt from the top stair back onto the pavement, she stopped dead in her tracks. When Dedalus had caught up, his eyes widened with horror at the realisation of what she was seeing. A pair of dementors had swept in out of nowhere and descended on the crowds lining the waterfront, sending terrified families scrambling as they glided toward them with unseeing eye sockets and scabby, outstretched hands. It was as though all of the joy in the world—so present only moments earlier—had been sucked out of the vicinity. Dedalus felt sick to his stomach as he reached for his wand. “Marjorie, darling, you need to stay behind me. You need to run when I ask you to. You have a portkey. You know how to use it. Do you understand?” he said, trying to sound confident even as his voice wavered. “Dad, I can’t leave you!” “My dear, you might have to.” His instincts screamed at him to take her and run, but as an Order member, he felt he had a duty here; the dementors had closed in on a family, huddled together against a wall. The children screamed as the creatures leaned in close enough to kiss— “Leave them alone!” he shouted, hoping to distract them long enough for their would-be victims to get away. The sight of a small, chubby-cheeked man in a three-piece suit was likely not an intimidating sight, but it worked for what it was; the dementors turned away and set their senses on him instead. He knew what was coming, yet there was no way of really preparing for it. A familiar voice echoed around his brain, as bright and as clear as the last time he’d heard it, “It’s just a play, Dally—what’s the worst that could happen? Besides, it’s our duty as artistes to reflect the times. To push back against hate and oppression, to speak up for our friends who’ve been silenced. All it takes for evil to triumph is for good people to do nothing.” “I know, Demi, I know,” his own voice squeaked, twenty years old and unsure of itself as ever. “But does it always have to be you doing something?” Dedalus shook his head and tried to clear his mind. It was all a matter of will. Positive thoughts. The dementors glided toward him. He raised his wand. “This is all part of the show, right?” said a voice to his right. A masked, robed figure had swept out onto the stage. Demeter looked out over the audience with a look of horror, her eyes searching for his own. They’d never really needed words to understand what the other was thinking. It was not part of the show. He tried to call out to her, but his voice caught in his throat. He was a coward. He’d always been the cowardly one. “Expecto—” he began, but choked on his words. The spell fizzled and died. Demeter’s gaze met his own, defiant as always. With a whisk of the Death Eater’s wand, her head twisted around, neck snapping then lolling to the side at a sickening angle. Her lifeless body dropped to the stage. “Dad, please!” Marjorie’s shriek snapped him back to reality. He had to end this. “You’ve always been a coward. Maybe you deserve this.” his own voice whispered. “Expecto patronum!” he managed, summoning all the nerve he could muster. There was a flash of light as the bright, silvery lemur leapt forth from his wand, bouncing after the dementors, who recoiled at the spell. They began to retreat. Dedalus didn’t wait to see how long it would last. He dashed back to Marjorie and took her hand. It was only once they’d apparated back to the house, while in the privacy of a soundproofed bathroom, that he allowed himself to sob. |