Who: The Brothers Potter Where: Kingsby Tavern When: During this[Super hyper backdated] What: A reunion of brothers and an interruption of dialogue Status: Complete Ratings: They both cuss a lot.
Albus Potter was wasting his breath. The Black family would never understand any of it. They wouldn’t understand the war, would never accept Muggleborns or Muggles. They would just remain various levels of cold or cruel or foolish. So he’d gotten about an hour off of work and gone out to get some food. He had taken some time to try and think of where Al would be and… he knew. He knew because his brother was very much like him, just on the opposite sides of the spectrum. So when he Apparated to the Kingsby Tavern, he was very certain he would find Al inside.
He wandered in, ignoring any looks he got for having food and settled in beside Al without a word. Still without saying anything, he took out a few tacos and a burrito for himself, then handed the rest of the bag off. A gesture towards the bar was really all he needed to do to order a whisky. Really, he shouldn’t have been drinking but he was well versed in a sobriety potion. “You really shouldn’t bother with the Blacks. It’s completely fucking pointless,” he stated as he unwrapped a taco. Jamie looked tired - he was always tired but at this particular point in his life, he looked even more tired for reasons he hoped he hadn’t ever told Al.
Al was older than he should’ve been - not by much, he didn’t think, but he was definitely older. “And you really shouldn’t have told them all that. If Cassiopeia does manage to change something, we might actually be totally fucked - like not even exist levels of fucked.” At the very least, maybe they’d have better names. That’d be nice.
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Al threw down the phone in disgust as Jamie slid in across from him. He wasn’t surprised to see his brother, for all that they hadn’t arranged this in advance. “I don’t know why I expected them to be more like Dad says Sirius was, than like the rest of the Blacks.” He took the remaining food, and started in on a taco, ignoring the bemused glances from other pub patrons. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t more than bought the table, with the amount of alcohol he’d consumed here in the last few days.
“I’ve been thinking about that, actually,” Al said, after he’d finished the first taco. “And the more I think about it, the less I think we’re all from the same reality to begin with.” He studied his brother, taking in how tired he looked, and that wasn’t so different from his own Jamie. “Hear me out. The Muggles have this theory called the ‘multiverse’, right? It basically boils down to the idea that there are an infinite number of universes occurring simultaneously, including the one we live in. It would explain why you, Scorpius and I are all from different points in time and why none of us knew the others were gone. I would have noticed Scorpius disappearing two years ago, and you’d have noticed whenever it was I disappeared for you, and so on and so forth.”
He poured himself another whisky from the bottle the barmaid had dropped off. “It’s entirely possible that you’re not my Jamie and I’m not your Al, but there seem to be enough similarities that our universes aren’t too far off. Extrapolating from there, this Cassiopeia Black is likely not from our timeline at all, and therefore if she goes back and fucks shit up, it won’t affect us at all. Possible versions of us, maybe, but not us us.” He took a breath. “Do you have shrimp in your world?”
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Jamie arched an eyebrow as Al tossed his phone down but didn't say anything. That was the reaction he was rather expecting, honestly. "Because you're trying to be foolishly hopeful. They're lost causes," and yet he knew that if any of them ever asked for medical help, he'd help them. That's what he did. Jamie wouldn't punish them for sins they had yet to commit even if he rather found them irritating - especially that little Arcturus. What a tiny prick.
When the bottle arrived, he poured himself a more than healthy glass with the cup that had been provided. He was pleased that Al seemed to be enjoying the food he'd brought. It made him wonder when the last time his brother had eaten but it didn't matter. Al was eating now and wouldn't appreciate him 'doing his job' when he wasn't asked. So for a moment, he just ate and drank while his brother spoke. Jamie nodded along, well aware of the theory. "This isn't an episode of Buffy," he gave Al a look, rolling his eyes slightly.
"But that's certainly a plausible theory. There is another one though - people disappear all the time here. The various levels of council all say it's perfectly normal and everyone's alright but some people think they go home. It's entirely possible that when going home, your mind is wiped and you arrive exactly when you left. No one really knows. But if you got a tattoo here, would it vanish there? Or would you just suddenly have a tattoo you wouldn't remember?" He rubbed one of his eyes with his hand with a soft grumble of pure stress, "I don't even want to imagine going home. I'm... about as happy as I can get here, right about now."
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“I guess we won’t know for sure until we go home,” Al said, taking another taco for himself. “But for now, we have to assume that both are true. Schrödinger Box, only with dimensions or universes, whatever you want to call them.” There was an annoying chirp from the phone, but Al ignored it. He wasn’t going back into that conversation again. Jamie was right, it was a lost cause. “Narcissa’s not so bad, but I probably shouldn’t have told her half of what I did. Hopefully you’re right, and our minds are wiped if we get home.” Though, that had its downsides as well. His head hurt from thinking about all the different scenarios.
He refilled his glass before going on. “We’re on the same page there. I only just got here, I’m in no way ready to go home.” He was interested to know what Jamie had been up to though. “Do you want to talk about why you’re here? Or why you’re so happy?” Because Jamie looked more tired than happy, but that was part of being a Healer, wasn’t it? “Also, how does Healing work here, with so many Muggles?” He was fascinated at the idea of the magical world coexisting alongside the Muggle world...and whatever else sort of worlds were represented.
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Jamie made a face, sticking out the tip of his tongue at the idea of going home. Then he reached into the bag to procure himself a packet of taco sauce for his burrito which he unwrapped shortly after. "Narcissa is a cunt," he did not hold back, narrowing his eyes slightly, "And you really shouldn't have. Spoilers and all that." But that was all he was going to say on that matter. Jamie wasn't about to lecture Al when he had already admitted to being wrong. He wasn't ready to start bickering with his brother in a pub. "Considering it's me, I'm probably incredibly wrong."
He arched an eyebrow at the very quick refill of Al's glass but again said nothing. He had no place to judge. And it certainly revealed something, didn't it? That both the brothers were intense drinkers. Was it their father's fault? Maybe. Maybe it would be the same without famous family members. "Healing works just the same as it did back home," he shrugged a shoulder, skipping over the more intense topics for now, "I work in a Muggle hospital in Ravenmoore but I use magic to do it. Really, Muggle medical issues are so mundane."
As for happy... "Might have a boyfriend which is nice here because he has no bloody clue who dad is," the last one and the girlfriend previous to that had all been in it to meet the family, nab the Potter name and fortune. He'd dumped them like the sacks of garbage they were. "His name's Clint - Clint Barton. Posted recently about needing shoes for the run. Very silly, easily distracted, loves dogs to the point I thought he was going to bloody cry when I showed him my animagus form," Jamie grinned in a way that was more than a little goofy, sipping from his glass. "Never play him in darts unless you seriously cheat - his accuracy is ridiculous."
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“She’s also the reason Dad was able to kill Voldemort, and she’s Scorpius’ grandmother,” Al said, but he was more amused than anything. “Yeah, kind of jumped the shark with those, didn’t I?” Al was going to have to be more careful in the future, but the damage was already done. “Hey, which of us is the one who got the better NEWTs, has the responsible job, is a real adult? Because it’s not me.” Really, he was so proud of Jamie for working as hard as he did, and didn’t like when Jamie talked down about himself.
Jamie’s explanation still left a lot to be desired. “Does it work? Healing their injuries our way? I mean, I can see how a broken bone would be the same, but their illnesses aren’t like ours. I didn’t think the same potion remedies would be suitable for a Muggle sickness.” It was fascinating, like a lot of things about this place were fascinating. He did chuckle at the comment about mundane injuries. “Not a lot of call to heal the effects of an engorgio charm gone wrong then?”
“You must be pretty serious if you’ve shown him your Animagus form,” Al said, after a moment to process the infodump. “How long have you been here? And when can I meet this Clint of yours? I need to make sure he knows that I know how to hide a body where no one can find it if he ever hurts you.” Maybe the protective brother bit was more of an older brother stereotype, but of the two of them Jamie had the softer heart, and had been burned more than once by people trying to take advantage of their last name. Al just assumed everyone was out to fuck him over to begin with, and was never surprised when that’s just what they did.
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"That's in her future. Doesn't change the fact that right now, she's a cunt," Jamie argued, arching an eyebrow with a slight tip of his glass as if he were toasting that very statement. Jumped the shark was a bit of an understatement but he just smirked, shaking his head a little - a movement that was punctuated by a heavy sigh when Al felt it was his duty to bolster up Jamie's self-esteem. Ah, grand. Barely functioning already. "I don't reckon it's real adulting if you're sitting at home in your pants, with your cats, listening to old records in your free time..." Because that was what he did most of the time.
Jamie laughed, shaking his head slightly, "It's so much simpler than you think. Yes, sure, they don't get dragon pox around here - thank fuck." If he were religious, he would have crossed himself or done something to ward off the evil eye. "But a cold is a cold is a cold. The flu is the same. Heart disease is generally the same. And no, generally speaking, the only engorging comes in the form of water retention, pregnancy, or other incredibly boring reasons."
Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. He crumpled up his wrappers, using a paper napkin to get taco grease off of his face. "Actually, showed him the first day I met him. He's just so enthusiastic about magic - Muggle, mind you, so he's got no idea about it. I dunno," Jamie scratched his cheek, definitely getting a bit more beardy than maybe he should have lately but it was getting colder, "We just... Clicked. We started talking and didn't stop talking. As for me, couple of month and I dunno when you can meet him. He's a bit intimidated by the idea of our massive family. I can ask, if you like. We can have a dinner thing." He didn't mind Al being a protector. It was better. Jamie could be softer but he could also be extraordinarily reactive. He didn't generally bother with jinxes or hexes, going straight for a fist fight.
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“Yeah, that does appear to be the case,” Al said, wrinkling his nose as he replayed the exchange with Narcissa. Jamie was right; she was a cunt. “I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of adulting. Maybe not the cat part though.” He grinned, only mostly kidding about the cats. It wasn’t that Al minded cats, but he wasn’t on Jamie’s level of cat appreciation. “How many have you got now?”
Al took a drink; he was going to leave the Healing and its associated headaches to Jamie. He was much better with the more theoretical aspects of magic. Still….”How do they react to potions? Or have you learned about Muggle medicine? Grandpa will be extremely interested to learn more about stitches and that shit.” Their grandfather’s obsession with all things Muggle hadn’t lessened over the years. “Yeah, suppose they can’t accidentally engorge their pricks with an ill-placed swish of the wrist.” Not that Al had first hand experience with that, but he’d heard stories.
“The first day? That seems...bold,” Al said, shaking his head with amusement. “I’m glad you found someone though. Being here with only Malfoys and Blacks for company must have sucked massively.” There was really only one Malfoy Al could tolerate, and it wasn’t Narcissa or Lucius that was for damn sure. “A dinner thing would be fine, as long as you don’t expect me to cook anything.” Al was a terror in the kitchen and had actually burned water once.
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And that was all he was going to say about Narcissa Malfoy. He scrunched up his nose as Al picked on the number of cats. They needed to keep themselves entertained along with being self-sufficient pets. It was a win-win to have multiple. “Just the three. I brought them with me from our world. As if I was going to leave them behind? I knew I wasn’t exactly going on vacation or anything.” Jamie had been well aware that this was a no turning back scenario. He couldn’t just pop back home. So the cats had come along.
He traced the rim of his glass with his fingertip, frowning slightly at his whisky, lost in thought for a moment. But the question pulled him out of it, “Actually, there’s quite a lot of different types of people here. Different types of magic, vampires, werewolf, angels, so on, so forth. So it seems people are just used to odd things. Of course, some of them are a bit sheepish about it but what can you do?” Other than force feed them… Which, well, he had done before. He snorted sharply and held up his hands to do finger quotes as he repeated, “Accidentally.”
Jamie shrugged, “Clint knew a bit about magic - just not our sort. He’s like… a superhero where he comes from, I guess.” Which just screamed ‘issues’ but it hadn’t really come up as a problem. There wasn’t a lot of heroing to be done around here. “Yeah, well… Yeah. Here’s to being a blood traitor,” he muttered, picking up his glass and polishing off what was left. His gaze fell on Al, an expression of horror on his face, “Fuck no. You aren’t allowed in the kitchen.”
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“You brought cats, I brought books.” And a few other things that were less easy to explain than books, but Jamie didn’t have to know that. It was the whole reason Al was here, wasn’t it? “Yeah, we’re gonna have to talk about that sometime, aren’t we?” It would be the healthy, emotionally mature thing for them to do; actually, talk about what had driven them to abandon their family for a no-return trip to Preya.
Al nodded. “I’ve noticed that, actually. Lends more credibility to my multiverse theory, doesn’t it?” What other explanation could there be for such a diverse population than for it to be different universes, with different laws of physics and magic, different histories, different everything? And Preya had to be a pocket dimension of some kind, set outside regular time and space....well, it was a lot to process and figure out, and Al mostly just wanted to run different experiments to see how it all worked.
“A superhero? Like, going around defeating villains and destroying personal property?” Al had seen enough Muggle superhero movies to know how that worked. He clinked his glass against Jamie’s to acknowledge the toast. “Let me know when, and I’ll be there. I definitely have to meet this guy.”
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“I didn’t just bring cats,” he told Al, arching an eyebrow, “I brought… Everything. Books. My potions library. All of it.” And that potions library was vast and massive. He didn’t have the talent of, say, one Severus Snape but he had to have some skill to be a mediwizard and so, he did. It was like cooking only with things you wouldn’t normally put into your body for the most part. He stared at Al for a long moment, “No. No, we do not.” He wasn’t planning on being emotionally mature about that for awhile.
Jamie held up his hands almost defensively, “I’m not disagreeing with you, Al. Trust me, I’m not.” But his brother liked to talk and test theories. He would have had such fun in Muggle science courses rather than dealing with pure magical theory. If there had been a good balance… Ah well. School was long since over for them.
His eyebrows went up as he nodded, “Yep. Only without like actual powers? He uses arrows. That’s why I say don’t play darts with him. He will completely ruin you.” Jamie yawned, rubbing his cheek for a moment. His sleeping habits had been shite for awhile but the evidence wasn’t always so clear. “Definitely. Lord save him from you…” He laughed, deciding not to offer any sort of explanation whatsoever.
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“I remembered clothes, actually,” Al said, half wanting to dig deeper into the fact that Jamie had clearly known and accepted this was an indefinite holiday. Al had known that too but figured there was probably a workaround if he really wanted to figure one out. “Mostly because I live out of one of Aunt Hermione’s magic Mary Poppins bags.” It came in handy to have a knapsack that fit his entire worldly possessions, among other things. “But mostly I brought books.”
Al hadn’t meant to start an argument; he was conditioned to academic debates and habits were hard to break. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just fascinating, the way it all works. Don’t you want to figure it out?” Al wasn’t sure he wanted to rush into anything, but he’d always had a problem leaving mysteries unsolved. It had been the cause of many of his troubles. Seemed like it would continue to be.
“Arrows, huh? Cool.” Al meant it; he’d always enjoyed the various renditions of the Robin Hood legend and had taught himself archery one summer when everyone else was playing Quidditch. He’d been decent enough, though not superhero caliber. “I’ll stay away from playing darts with him then.” He noted Jamie’s yawn and had the thought that some things, like Jamie’s sleeping habits, would never change. “And Lord save you from yourself. Go home, Jamie. Get some sleep, and we’ll continue this soon.”
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That was so like Al to just worry about the books. But then, some house stereotypes existed for a reason. “I love that charm,” he muttered softly, “Managed to perfect the architecture version to make my flat bigger on the inside. If my landlady only knew, ay?” But she didn’t. She’d probably flip her bloody wig though, otherwise. And rushing headlong into an academic debate was also very Al. He smiled a bit lopsidedly when he answered, “No. I don’t.” The wane smile gave the reason why. He had wanted this to be permanent so why question it.
Jamie did manage a proper smile at his brother, even if it was tinged with a bit of sadness, “I can’t. I’m on my lunch break. Got to go back to work, actually. It never ends.” Sometimes he hated his job. Sometimes he loved it. Most of the time, he wondered what he would do if he weren’t in medicine and the answer was… No fucking clue. He didn’t think he really had any talents that were useable elsewhere.
Still, he stood, ruffled Al’s hair, then gave him a brief one-armed hug. “Don’t be a stranger, yeah? You know how to find me.” He tossed down some Muggle money for his portion of the drinks, plus a little extra for Al and thumped him on the back as he started to walk away so he could Disapparate outside.