WHO: Chelsea Corner & Barnaby Snell WHAT: Discussing current events! And Toby's ability to change the Death Eaters. WHEN: Backdated to 29 August 2017. WHERE: The Corner/Snell/Vane home, Tinworth. WARNINGS: Mentions of YKW's 🍆
“...Muggleborn bounty hunters,” Baz read aloud, “rumored to be led by Fenrir Greyback.” Lazily draped across the sofa with the paper splayed out in front of him, Barnaby Snell didn’t act as if he was particularly concerned by the news. The infamous werewolf’s name was uttered as if they were simply discussing Tinworth’s weather. The flare of panic he’d felt had quickly been smothered, replaced a desire to do something: crack a joke, run a lap, crunch some numbers. Anything that didn't involve contemplating their increasingly dire future. He didn’t, though. He rolled over onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows, and frowned up at Chelsea.
“The Death Eaters can’t do their own dirty work?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow. It was a rhetorical question. The Daily Prophet’s article on these new “snatchers” made that quite clear.
Even with Toby curled up in her lap, finally resting after running around for an hour, Chelsea couldn't tune out Baz as he read the paper. She was plagued by the need to know what was happening in the world. But every time she opened the paper, or went into work, or stopped for coffee, she only heard worse and worse things. It was getting increasingly hard to keep up her early morning newspaper routine. Turning her attention towards Baz, she dropped Toby onto his back and said, hint of sarcasm in her voice, "You know they break out into hives if they come into contact with a Muggleborn. Why won't you think about their condition?"
“Oh right, I forgot about their delicate constitution,” Baz laughed, idly flipping through the pages of the newspaper. “You may not know this, C, but exposure to muggleborns can cause a wide variety of illness.” He began counting off on his fingers: “Hives, lesions, vertigo, uh… dragon pox. You may be wondering how Muggleborns can cause a magical illness but that’s a mystery.”
"The thing that happens when your eye can't stop twitching, too," Chelsea continued, laughing until it trailed off into silence. It was a minute or more until she spoke again. "They can't follow them into the Muggle world, right? If, hypothetically speaking, a Muggleborn wanted to leave before the registration deadline? I can't imagine they know how to act there."
It was a sobering thought. Baz was quiet for a moment as he weighed the different answers that sprang to mind. Some were foolishly optimistic, some were cynical. The reply he eventually settled on was realistic, or so he thought. “I don’t think they’re going to go to a different country. My mum and dad are going to Brazil and they should be fine there. But if you just try to immerse yourself in the muggle world here?”
He snapped his fingers for dramatic effect. “They’ll probably find you.”
Chelsea pulled her legs up against her chest, resting her forehead on her knees. "It's not fair," she mumbled, before raising her head back up and frowning at Toby, who was looking back at her as if he had nothing to worry about. "I don't want to send my family away and I don't want to not be able to see them whenever I want." It was selfish and it was unreasonable and she knew it, but it had eaten at her, made her feel guilty every time she thought about her aunt, who had, two days before, suggested that she should just register and get it over with. She was resigned to it, already pre-emptively tired of the hassle that any other option would bring, and it took the better part of an hour to convince her aunt otherwise, to leave for Hong Kong with her parents. Chelsea dreaded the goodbye.
“Nothing about this is fair,” Baz agreed, his voice flat. He didn’t want to say goodbye to his parents, either. He didn’t want his sister to worry. Sweeping those thoughts aside, he let out a low whistle to get Toby’s attention, then made a series of silly faces at the dog. He stuck his tongue out, he comically widened his eyes, he flashed an oversized grin. “Toby is the only good person in the world and he’s a dog. Maybe he can give the Death Eaters humanity lessons.”
"He can't do that," Chelsea protested, making her own set of faces at him. "They'll corrupt him. He'll still be cute but he'll be mean! We can't do that to Toby, even if he could save the world." She thought about it for a second longer. "Okay, if he could save the world, we might have to risk that. But maybe we could do pre-recorded videos instead."
“Here’s what we’ll do,” Baz began, eyes flicking up to Chelsea. “We’ll rent out a theater for all the Death Eaters and stream videos of Toby in. He’ll be so popular, we’ll have to do a world tour.”
"Remember when Shia Lebeouf did that 24 hour marathon of his movies? We'll just copy that model and replace it with Toby lessons!" A grin snuck onto her face. "Then he'll get an Order of Merlin and end up being an insufferable roommate."
A crooked smile spread across Baz’s face as he pointed a finger at their dog. “Great, you’re going to be insufferable now, Tobes. Gwen’s going to complain so much, you know she’s a complainer.” There was a short pause before he tacked on, “It’s not as fun to insult her when she’s not here.”
"That was probably her goal all along. Now we can't say anything bad about her whenever she's not around." Chelsea picked up Toby and deposited him back onto her lap. To their dog, she said seriously, "You'll just have to make that face and convince her otherwise." He cocked his head at her and she smiled.
Playing with the ends of her hair, twisting them around her finger and then releasing them, Chelsea turned to Baz. "We're gonna get through this, right?"
A silence settled between them as Baz took a moment to consider his reply. He know what he wanted to say: yes, everything is going to be okay. That’s what you told people when things looked dire. That’s what Baz was telling himself, too. His smile faded into a weary one as he gave Chelsea a concern-laden glance.
“I think so,” he finally said. “We’re strong people, I think. You are, anyway. And you know Harry Potter is running around out there, ready to pull some Luke Skywalker-esque moves to restore balance to the world.”
"Okay," Chelsea said, quietly. She said it again to believe it. There was still an uneasy feeling in her stomach and there was a restlessness that she couldn't shake. But unless this whole registration thing turned out to be one extended nightmare that she was about to wake up from, she knew that she wouldn't be able to stop feeling like that. The best she could do was to make sure her family was safe.
She nodded and gave Baz — and Toby — a tired smile. "Hopefully without the secret evil father thing. I don't think Harry Potter deserves that in his life."
“Seems like he has enough problems in his life,” Baz agreed, laughing lightly. “There’s no need to add ‘You-Know-Who’s secret child’ to the mix.” After a slight pause, a horrified expression flickered over Baz’s face. “God, imagine having You-Know-Who as a father. Didn’t do your homework? Forget groundings, it’s the Cruciatus for you.”
"There's no way his… thing works. He's so evil! It's not fair if he's both evil and he can still have children. It's probably shriveled up and —" Chelsea made a face and stopped herself, a hand raised in front of her face. "Stop me, just stop me. I don't want to think about this!"
Clutching one hand to his heart, Baz made an elaborate gagging sound and pitched himself over the edge of the sofa. He was still gagging as he fell to the floor, startling Toby, though the gags eventually turned into hysterical laughter. “That,” he said, wiping at his eyes, “is the worst thing you’ve ever said to me. Maybe the worst thing you’ve ever said ever.”
Chelsea hid her face behind her hands while Baz laughed, eventually flipping him off before crossing her arms in mock annoyance. "I'm sorry! You should've stopped me! It was like I was possessed!" To Toby, who had started to scurry away, she called, "I'm sorry, Toby! I'll make it up to you!"
Baz clucked his tongue at Chelsea as he pushed himself to his feet. “Poor Toby is traumatized now. Hell, I’m traumatized.”
"Toby's gonna need some thicker skin if he's going to be teaching Death Eaters how to reform themselves," she said with a laugh. She opened her arms towards Baz, gesturing for him to come closer. "I'll give you a hug. Will that help?"
Baz canted his head to the side as he looked at her open arms, pretending to weigh the decision. “You know how I feel about hugs,” Baz told her, his tone one of mock offense. It was a joke — Baz had no issues with physical displays of affection. His expression softened as he threw his arms around her, enveloping her in a tight hug. “But, just this once, I’ll make an exception.”