Matthew Gavon Jepson III (forthegood) wrote in dissendium, @ 2008-02-17 22:29:00 |
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Entry tags: | frances monaghan, matthew jepsen, the conclave |
Who: Matthew Jepsen and Frances Monaghan
Where: A cafe in Diagon Alley
When: Afternoon of August 18, 1979.
Summary: Frances and Matt meet up for some lunch, as both have decided it would be better than sitting around doing nothing. Indeed.
Some would say that Matt had grown rather obsessed with this war business. He now spent a majority of his days on his own, avoiding his foster parents. This would be his only summer with them, anyhow. He turned seventeen in less than a month, and he'd legally be allowed to be out on his own without any worry. He didn't quite trust the family, anyway. They seemed to go through his stuff often, though whether that was cause for concern or just nosiness Matt was unsure. Better safe than sorry, though. He kept all his stuff in a backpack he kept with him at all times. It had been charmed very thoroughly to keep it safe, so he didn't have to worry about random people looking inside. Didn't mean he'd just leave it lying around, clearly.
Truth was that Matt had sort of missed random excursions with people from school. He didn't feel the desire nearly half as badly as his earlier school days, but things had changed. People had changed. People had died. He couldn't exactly put his finger on what it was about Frances' post that got him to finally get up and do something, but he could only guess that it was relief to see that he wasn't the only one with these feelings. So here he was, at a cafe, waiting for Frances to come.
He wasn't as worried as most others in the Conclave, as he was never really brought up as a threat to the Death Eaters, who mostly saw him as just another stupid kid thinking he could make a difference. They may have been right. The point was that Matt felt it safe enough to go out in public without anyone really recognizing him, and even if they did, they wouldn't particularly care. He hoped more than anything that he'd be able to prove them wrong. He sat at the table, waiting for Frances before even ordering a water. He figured it would be the most polite thing to do. It wasn't as if he was parched or anything.