ione meliflua (ioned) wrote in raveled, @ 2017-06-04 13:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! decade: 1980s, ! log, fabian prewett, ione meliflua |
WHO: Fabian Prewett & Ione Meliflua
WHAT: Overnight vigil for binding purposes
WHEN: Full Moon in May 1980
WHERE: Rural pureblooded wizarding estate (Crabbe? Goyle? not relevant to our purposes)
WARNINGS: None
"Circe's tits, I hate these things," Fabian said, pushing his floppy hair out of his eyes. They were stuck out on the edges of the estate whose entail bindings they were reinforcing thanks to the new baby in the family: Fabian representing the interests of the paternal family and Ione representing the interests of the maternal family. Both sides wanted the binding done right, if only to prevent the need for drawing blood again from a small infant. "I didn't like them even before there were so many wolves out on the full. I wish we could have done this on the new instead." The astrological necessities and the arithmantical auspices for this kind of ritual were difficult enough to compute as it was. "About another quarter-glass here and then we should be ready for this one--" he patted the wardstone of the estate boundaries they'd just arrived at "--and then we're on to the next one." As usual when it came to things of this nature, Ione was fighting between being understanding and wanting to roll her eyes as hard as she possibly could. “Me too. Well not on the wolves thing. That doesn’t bother me too much.” If she ever saw a werewolf up close, she would probably be pretty scared, but for now she thought they were fascinating. The full moon made her feel better about things though. “I’m not even sure I get what this is for. Is it for keeping people from stealing the baby?” Yeah that was a pretty dumb question, but she was serious about it. She didn’t really get any of this. Though she was pretty good at arithmetic and the astrological aspect, she just didn’t get this whole thing. She was definitely not doing this, if she ever had kids. Probably weren’t going to have any, but if she did, she was definitely not doing this. “Uhh.. sure. Right. Quarter-glass. Yep. Whatever you say. I’m just gonna nod my head and let you do what you gotta do.” And hope that he would tell her what she had to do, if she had to do anything at all. "You're supposed to be keeping an eye on me to make sure I do it all but your faith in me is reassuring. And what this does is bind the baby into the estate wardings. It's a blood ward, and if it weren't so traditional, it'd be illegal, since it's not like the baby volunteered to give up the blood for it. At least when an adult wizard binds himself to his own estate, he knows what he's bleeding over." That Ione hadn't dealt with this directly was no surprise. Most families didn't go for this kind of thing any more, but the Sacred Twenty-Eight still did. Fabian and Gideon had been bound into the wards on their uncle's place when they were children, after it had become clear that Uncle Ignatius and Aunt Lucretia weren't going to have any children of their own. The larger share of the binding had been on Gideon, of course, but as a twin, Fabian had also been bound in. "If you want to nap now, I'll trade you a shift for later. If I can manage to sleep while we're out here, that is." Fabian was a light sleeper and fast to wake up, but even he was daunted by the idea of relaxing enough to actually sleep in the open on the full moon. Ione turned and smiled at him. “I have every faith in you,” she said sincerely. She was starting to be quite grateful that her mother hadn’t gone in for all of this nonsense. It sounded ridiculous. Hurting a baby to make yourself feel better. No thanks. Still it was her job to do, and she was going to take it as seriously as she could. She didn’t want anything to get messed up and then not be able to get paid for it. She looked around a bit. “If you’re sure. Just wake me up when it’s time for my shift. Or if you get a little too scared out there.” Teasing. Mostly. She wasn’t quite sure if she was going to be able to sleep, but she’d give it a go. It didn’t take her long to get settled in for a small nap, closing her eyes and nearly drifting off. It might be cold and Fabian might be tired but there were wolves abroad. Even if someone in her family was protecting her, Ione was exhibiting a lot of trust by sleeping where they might come. (And a lot in him, he couldn't help but notice, following her words with her deed.) He watched her settle in for a moment, relaxing--a feat he had trouble with at home in his own bed these days--and settled in around her. Technically, as long as they were on the inside of the house wards, they were safe. That was supposedly how it worked. But Fabian knew how to circumvent some of the wards, had done it himself now and again as a vigilante, and had seen it done by brute force more than once in the past. Trust was a fragile thing and Fabian had so little of it. Still, he watched the horizon and waited until the temporal alarm spell he'd set for the next item went off to shake Ione's shoulder lightly. "Hey, Ione, it's time," he said, adding, in case she was a little disoriented, "It's Fabian." There was a lot of faith there, to at the very least start screaming and wake her up if there were wolves about to actually pounce on her poor body. Secretly she would have been thrilled to see wolves, or have some kind of incident that didn’t involve people trying to kill her with magic. Something else entirely. It was possibly what she was dreaming about, when the gentle touch of Fabian’s hand aroused her from slumber. She was a bit bleary, and groggy. It did take a minute, and then the look of recognition passed over her face. Yes. Fabian. Clearly she wasn’t a morning person, even if it wasn’t morning. “Oh. Right. Yep, I’m up.” As if she had to reassure him that she was, by speaking. Clearly anyone who tried to wake her at home, tended to have to do more than just prod her most of the time. She rubbed her face and brushed her hair back from her face. “I like sleeping outside. It’s nice. Cooler than being in a house.” And the ambient noise wasn’t too bad either. Ione got up to her feet, mostly so that she could stop herself from falling over back asleep and stretched. “It’s really not that bad. You should try to rest.” "We've got to do the next one," Fabian said, making it sound less like a remonstrance than a complaint about their working hours. "They're paying us hazard fees for this but it's still not enough," he grumbled as he offered her a hand to help her to her feet." Still, it was better that he was doing it than most of the other people who knew this ritual. They were, collectively, older and much more frail than Fabian. He might have to blow his cover as a broken duelist to defend Ione should they be attacked, and that wouldn't be good, but better him than Mr Fletwock or Mr Rumleigh, who hadn't been accomplished at duels in their heyday. The actual ritual work wasn't that difficult and Fabian accomplished it easily under Ione's observing eye, showing her the ritual details and, when he could spare the breath, explaining their significance. "Not," he added at the end, "that you'll need to know that if you actually do go to Mysteries." Right, right. After they did the next one then. Placing her hand in his, she got up to her feet and stretched her limbs out. It might take her a moment to remember exactly what they were doing, but brain fog happened to the best of them. “You know that saying about not having to outrun something, just having to outrun the person they’re next to? I’m pretty fast. Just as a warning,” she teased. She was glad it was them, than some of the old crusty guys who might have done this, true. But hopefully they were going to get through this without incident. She watched him do the next part of the ritual, studying in case she ever had to do this kind of thing again, by herself maybe. And she listened, and took notes (in her head) when he explained things. She was grateful for it, actually. People rarely took the time to explain anything these days. “You never know what you’re going to need to know. That’s why it’s a Mystery.” She wiggled her fingers mysteriously and made a funny face at him. "That's certainly true," Fabian admitted. "And we all have our mysteries." The Solicitor's Guild certainly had its share without getting into the many ways he found his work useful for his vigilante efforts, never mind how he used his social connections. "You're really going to do it, then? Go to Mysteries? Have you told your mum?" They certainly did. Mysteries were abundant with the circles that they ran with.”I really want to. I mean, at the very least I have to try. It’s no certainty that I’m going to even get a job. I haven’t, and I don’t plan to.” She put her hand up to stop whatever he was about to say next. “I know, I know. It’s hard to keep secrets from your mother, when she works at the Ministry too. I just don’t know how to tell her. I don’t want to get into it with her. My brother gets to do whatever the hell he wants, and I should too.” What was the worst that could happen? Something worse than her getting yelled at. She could take getting yelled at. She could take being told that she was a disappointment. Her mother tended to lash out when she was angry, and she wasn’t sure that her mother was above doing something to her. “Maybe I’ll talk to her about it, if I get the job. If I don’t.. Then I don’t have to worry about it.” Simple, right? It was what Fabian would have done in her shoes, as best he could tell, so he thought it was a good idea, and said as much: "It's better than having the argument and then not getting the job, that's for sure. The only problem is if the higher-ups speak to her before they talk to you. As long as your mum's not going to turn you into a teacup or something ridiculous like that, you should be all right." The way Fabian said it made it into a joke, but with the Blacks and their tapestry-burning, one couldn't be entirely certain. Looking relieved again that he was agreeing with her, she nodded her head. “Well, I guess if they do that, then I’ll deal with it when it happens. I’m hoping they won’t though. Do you think me saying something like - I want to be judged based on my own merits and not my family’s - is something that would win over the people looking at my application? Or no. I mean don’t get me wrong, I do want them to judge me for me, but I really don’t want them to ask my mother anything.” That was the last thing she needed. “See, you joke about it, but.. She just might do that.” "You have to say that kind of thing," Fabian advised from the pedestal of his aged wisdom, which he was aware wasn't actually that great in this moment, even if he knew the right answer. "I mean, people like us are always judged in part on the name. You can't escape it. But you have to pretend like you can. "And I don't think they'll ask your mum even though she is who she is. In your shoes--" in Fabian's own shoes, considering he was encouraging her "--I'd be more concerned about gossip getting back to her. At least Mysteries keeps most of its cards close to its chest." Ione’s shoulders went up a bit as if to say ‘okay, fair point’ and she nodded her head. Yeah she had to say things like that. “Well I certainly can’t stop all the gossip in the Ministry. And I can’t change my name. I can’t pretend to be someone else.” Sometimes the thought of changing her name and moving to America sounded nice. “Got any bright ideas about how to nip gossip in the bud at the Ministry? Because I sure as fuck don’t.” Since she was usually the nosy one who liked to listen to the gossip, she knew that it just sorted got away from everyone and moved very quickly. Not unless everyone stopped communicating. Even silencing would just mean writing things down instead. “I suppose it’s just easier to be proactive so I can figure out what to say when it does in fact get back to her.” "Probably," Fabian agreed, his tone glum, more for her than for himself. "There's nothing wrong with Mysteries, you know. I'd not do it, but I have my own reasons and they're not yours. But surely she can see that Mysteries has more prestige. Is she just unhappy at the idea you don't want to be on the Wizengamot thirty years down the road?" That was the only thing he could think of--Mysteries was a route to power, but it was very different and far less temporal than the sort of thing you got from being on the Wizengamot. Great. She’d been psyched about this whole Mysteries thing, and now she was pretty certain that she wasn’t going to have the guts to do it. “She wants me to be a barrister. End of discussion. Anything that isn’t that is frivolous, I guess. I don’t know. It’s all she’s ever said since I was a kid. One of you is going to be such a good barrister. And my brother.. Has decided that he doesn’t really want to do anything my mom sets out for him, but that’s totally okay, because he’s so quiet and reserved and thus I get to do everything that Mum wanted from me. And he gets to sit in the house and do nothing..” Bitter much? Yeah. A little bit. “I think I’m just gonna stick to my current job. Trying to think of something else was just kind of silly.” Fabian frowned; his expression was clear in the moonlight. "You're talking yourself out of it. Don't do that." “You’re not exactly being optimistic either,” she pointed out, giving him a pointed look of her own. Ione sighed and stuck her hands in her pockets. “How about we just see what happens, shall we? If I die, I promise to write you a nice long letter, in case.” "I'm not being pessimistic, I'm trying to help you find a way around the obstacles you're facing," Fabian pointed out, quite reasonably in his opinion. "And I suppose I can always help you run away to Italy. I have friends and connections there. People Dad knows from when he was posted there while I was in Hogwarts." Her hands went on her hips and she looked at him quite dubiously. Not pessimistic? Fabian? Really? “You’re doing a fantastic job,” she said with a grunt of displeasure. “Well Italy’s nice. I could live on pasta and wine for the rest of my days.” She stuck her hands in her pockets and her expression softened a bit. “Is it time to wait around again? Your turn to take a nap?” "I couldn't nap out here if I wanted to. I'd be thinking werewolf at every noise." Fabian admitted. "Any other night and I'd take you up on that. "And look, I'm sorry about the other thing. It's just--my way of sorting a thing I want to do and am having a hard time with is to find all the reasons someone might stop me, all the ways someone might stop me, and figure out how to get round them." Had there been less light, Fabian's chagrined expression might have been less obvious. "You act like you'd be happier out from under your mum's thumb and it's not fair, not the way she pushes her expectations on you and lets your brother do as he pleases--and don't tell Gideon I said that because I bet he feels the same about me--and that's the only way I know to help." “That’s fair, but don’t come crying when you’ve not had your beauty sleep,” she said with a shrug. Really though she didn’t blame him. Ione just could sleep through anything. She was kind of annoying that way. Maybe she was a being a bit unfair towards him, considering there wasn’t any great solution to her problem, and he certainly didn’t know it, even if there was one. “It’s all right. I mean if it was the other way around, I’d probably be the same way. I want to figure out a way around them, but I think you’re underestimating just how wicked my mother can be.” And sure she would be happier out from under her mother’s thumb, but that just wasn’t going to happen until her mother wasn’t around any more. “We’ll see. I haven’t made up my mind. Weighing pros and cons of being brave.” It took Fabian a bit of time to answer. "Probably I am," he said after a bit, and then, since he wasn't being clear about which part he was answering with that, "about your mum, I mean. I don't want to pry or dig up old gossip, but I will say I've never heard a cause for your father's absence and the scuttlebutt at the time was vicious. I try not to automatically assume the worst--" and Fabian shrugged as if he considered this a possible failing "--but I'm generally aware of the possibilities." Ione raised her hands up in defense. “It’s not.. You’re not prying. Whatever you think you heard there’s probably some truth to. She always told us that he was dead. My brother and I know he’s not. And I guess it depends on whether you think that death is the worst thing that could happen to a person. If you’re of the opinion that death isn’t the worst thing, than I can only imagine whatever my dad is going through - “ she trailed off, frowning a bit. Thinking of the things her dad was going through wasn’t something she wanted to think about. “You should assume the worst about my mother. I’ve never met anyone whose anger is like hers. All consuming.” She couldn’t help but laugh slightly. “And sadly I don’t even think that she hated my father. So you know.. I’m not sure what she’d do to someone she actually hated.” Fabian started to say that he didn't think Ione's mother hated her, but he'd seen how with people who dabbled with Dark magic, love turned to hate readily enough. And what Ione said did make him wonder how much Araminta actually loved Ione versus how much she loved the picture of her daughter she had in her head. The Blacks, and Araminta was one, didn't necessarily think of their children as people so much as they did publications of the house, and they did burn people who violated the rules off the Tapestry: Sirius and Andromeda, for two. And anyway, as Ione had just said, whatever she'd done to her husband, Araminta hadn't hated him. It was apparently a fate as bad as death, though, or mostly as final, at least from Ione's expression. "We'll think about it," he said. "About how to make her decide it's what she wants, because that's the way to keep her from doing anything terrible to you." In truth she’d been thinking about that even more than she’d been thinking about how to get the job in the first place. All of her interview skills had gone out the window, in favor of trying to come up with a good way to make sure that her mother thought this was her idea. Deep down she knew that she just had to figure out an angle that would put her in good graces with the Dark Lord. Surely that had to trump the law. The problem was trying to find out what the Dark Lord could possibly want from the Department of Mysteries. Sigh. “I really hope that you’re right. I’ll think about it, see if I can’t come up with something.” She wasn’t going to hold her breath though. Ione shoved her hands into her pockets. “Can we go? I’m freezing my tits off. I need some coffee or something.” "I hate to tell you this, but we're here until dawn doing the circuit. Which is about a quarter to five in the morning, so be happy we're doing this in the summer and not in the middle of December. But," and here Fabian raised a finger, "I can help with the frozen tits and the need for caffeine." He produced a flask and unscrewed the top. "Drink and be merry, because in a quarter-glass or so we move on to the next wardstone." |