InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "It's wicked dark down here"

Angus's muscles were aching from training and the bludger hits he'd taken, but it was a good ache, the kind that reminded him how important it was to keep pushing his limits if he wanted to get back on top, and it didn't slow him down much as he led Gregor down the path out of the little town of Salen. "Sorry for the walk, but you'll see it's not so far out from town," he told Gregor as they hiked over the rocky hill between the village and his secluded old house. "Out of sight of the road so Muggles rarely pop 'round uninvited, but close enough to the village that the bloke who sold me it had it connected to the electricity years back. I called the electric-company man this week and he said they'd turn it on again. And I'll get someone by to check the spells on the well, but the water's always been good, no worries there."

He fished in his pocket for the house key as they rounded the final corner and the old stone cottage half covered in ivy came into view. He hadn't been here in a long time, since just after being released from Mungo's the previous summer after his holiday with Dementors; even finding the key had been hard, as he hadn't touched it since then. Angus weighed it in his hand for a minute, and then shrugged and handed it over to Gregor. "There it is. You go on and do the honours, mate."

Gregor took the key and looked at the door. It had windows on the upper half with lace curtains that Gregor could only assume came from Angus’ mother. He turned the key and the door opened smoothly and without complaining. Beyond the light coming in from the door, the inside was dark, but Gregor found the switch by the door and flipped it and the lights came on. The kitchen seemed neat and tidy, if a bit old-fashioned. The lovely, vine-covered chimney on the outside was matched by a kitchen hearth on the inside. Gregor smiled and looked at Angus. “It’s charming. Not literal charms, of course. And yes, ‘charming’ is on my list of desirable characteristics. Is the hearth on the floo network?”

Angus followed him in, hands shoved into his pockets as he glanced around. "Yeah, we're connected," he answered, wandering over to the hearth and picking up the powder box to peer inside. "Almost out of floo powder but, you know. Only two sickles a scoop!" he mimicked the famous advert.

It was strange, being here again. He'd thought of moving in after he'd healed up, and his brothers had been handy in keeping the place maintained, but being here alone…

Well, Gregor and his wee niece would make better use of it than Angus, he reckoned. He straightened up and cleared his throat. "So, anyway, it's kitchen and the wee sittin' room and washroom on this floor. There's a shed around back, we reckoned we'd have it for her workshop, but it'd do for play space for your wee lass or storage or anything you can think of, once it's fixed up a bit. Upstairs is bedroom and guest room, and there's an attic nook above. Nothing here's fancy, but the walls are sturdy and the roof doesn't leak. It's a solid wee house. Want to peek around a bit?"

“Love to.” He stepped into the sitting room, with a second fireplace, a sofa and two armchairs, and a wireless. It was like he’d stepped into 1932. He looked at the doors and windows. The glass was single-pane, and probably not very well insulated. Gregor almost laughed. He kept thinking about Muggle issues. If it needed to be insulated, they’d do it with their wands.

He saw the small shelf of books and said to Angus, “I’m sure she’ll replace these with whatever she’s reading these days. Probably the complete works of Gilderoy Lockhart.” Gregor popped open the cupboard under the stairs, which would normally be nosy, but not if he was going to rent the place.

In the quiet of the room he could hear a plane flying by. Salen had the island’s only airstrip. “This looks amazing, Ang. You sure you want to rent it? And are there any neighbors who might object to a wee bit of piping?”

Angus lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "The closest neighbour's the old farm over the hill -- they're English, so I reckon they might find your skirlin' a mite offensive on the ears, but a muffling charm or two should see that sorted." He wandered over to lean against the wall, watching Gregor poke around.

"And I'm, yeah, I'm sure I want to rent it to you. I was thinkin' of selling, just couldn't stomach all that yet." Angus blew out a breath and looked up at the ceiling, studying the faint crack there he remembered patching up two years back. "I bought this place for Elsa in '97. We were going to move in that fall, but then… well, you know. And then it's never felt right to be here on my own."

Everything here reminded him of Elsa: those were her artificing books on the shelf, the ugly-patterned sofa she'd laughed about, the paint swatches still spellotaped to the wall where she'd put them up to decide on colours. Being here, looking at all of it, felt like the moment he'd realized she wasn't coming back all over again, complete with the bitter ache spreading through his chest. Angus coughed and turned away from Gregor to discreetly rub at his eyes. "Ah… anyway, let's have a look at the upstairs, eh?"

Gregor smiled. “Yeah, lets. Hey, if you and Len are here and I’m here, maybe we can do some training on the side. I can practice being a coach and you two could practice not needing to see a Mediwitch.” He went quickly up the stairs and looked at the small set of upper rooms. He was right, there was a draft from the windows, but that could be dealt with. A master bedroom for him, a room for Lynn, and the loft. He’d probably let her have the loft, but not until she needed/wanted it. It would give him something to let her expand into.

He was clear he’d made up his mind, but he ought to just finish the tour. “OK, let’s see this shed. It may become my Man-Cave. Have I told you what I’m working on for the fall classic?”

Angus took the opportunity of Gregor tromping up the narrow staircase to scrub at his face and blow his nose and shake the maudlin thoughts out of his head, so that he could put a more cheerful face on by the time he came back down "Not sure I want to know what a 'man cave' is, mate, but I wish you all the best with it," he answered with an arched eyebrow that was much more his usual teasing self. "Come on, then, I've got the key."

He led Gregor out the back; there wasn't much in the way of lawn, just a patch of grass and some shrubbery between house and shed, a little overgrown attempt at a garden that had been Elsa's pet project two years back, and then the ground climbed up into the rocky wooded hills. Not much room for a child to run around, hidden as this wee house was, but Angus figured there were ways around that. He unlocked the door to the wooden shed and flung it open, stepping back to let Gregor peer inside. "There you are, cavey as you like, you mad pipin' druid. Now tell me what you're working on for Fall Classic before curiosity kills the kitten."

“Two words. Broom-skates. Wee brooms I strap to the bottom of ma boots like they were skates, and I glide through the air with the greatest of ease.” He waved his arms like a figure skater, looking ridiculous. He hoped. The shed was totally inappropriate to his purposes, which made it perfect, because of the sweat equity he planned to put into the place.

“So, it needs some work, I think, mostly sealing the windows and if I’m not wrong clearing the chimney and checking the roof. Do you want to fix it up before you rent it or let me fix that in lieu of a deposit or however this is going to work?”

Angus's eyebrows arched sky-high at the idea of 'broom-skates'. He grinned and shook his head. "Now that sounds like one of Jay's mad plans. Is this the new Abercrombie and King line?" He chuckled, leaning back against the wall of the shed. "If you don't crack your head open on the first go, I reckon that'll be fun to watch."

He folded his arms, still smiling. "As to the fixin', I'd reckoned on leaving the house proper to you, if that's all right. The roof on this old shed's a job for more wands than one, but you know, there's a whole troop of Campbells I can call on to get it done. I'll put out the word to my brothers and sisters and we'll have her fixed up before you can say Floo." Angus shrugged. "As for the rest, I reckon there's no need for a deposit since you're going to put time and Galleons into fixing up the place, and you can name what seems fair for rent and terms. I'm new to this whole landlording business, ye ken, but I'll do my best for you."

“And I’ll do my best as a tenant. Sounds like we have a deal. I’ll work on pricing with a guy I know who’s good at arithmancy. I’ll probably want to move into the house quickly, since that’s mine to fix anyway, and the shed we can get to before it snows. I’ll box up and send you any personal things I come across.”

Gregor hesitated, then plowed ahead.. “You know, it’s not my place to say, but maybe nobody else will, so I better do it. Sometimes, what a girl wants is to know that you’ll track her down three or four thousand miles away to see if she still loves you. I don’t think you’ll move on until you get closure, and I don’t think you’ll get closure until you go see her. But wait for the season to end, or else MG will bury me in an unmarked grave.”

Angus blinked at him, startled into a silence that stretched for an uncomfortable few moments. "Yeah?" he said finally, and looked down. "Weel, that may be so. But if she'd wanted to come home I reckon she would've, anytime the last year." It still hurt thinking about it, and he shrugged and pushed himself off the side of the shed. "Any road, you're right, I've got the season to be thinkin' of. And learning how to be a landlord." He put on a smile. "You just let me know when you're wanting to move in, all right? We'll get you settled in quick."

Gregor nodded. He’d planted the seed. And if the two of them were each sitting on one side of the Atlantic Ocean waiting for the other to reach out first, like some inane romance novel, he’d at least tried to give his friend a push. “I have to give notice in the rathole I live in now. Maybe between the Classic and Holyhead? I want to be in when I see my niece at Hogwarts for the fall games. Lynn can’t play yet, but she’s a true Gryff fan. She’s already planning on trying out next fall.”

"Oh, aye?" Angus grinned approvingly at the mention of his first team. "Well, I can already tell she's a good lass. You know, my family's lot of bairns are always tearin' around on broomback out in the hills, reckon your wee Lynn could get some good practise in while she's here." He headed back toward the house, jerking his head at Gregor to follow him. "Come on in. We'll make a wee list of what needs doing, and then we'll both have someplace to start."