Who: Miles Bletchley and an NPC witch (and a boggart) What: An unpleasant walk down memory lane Where: Sugarplum's Sweet Shop When: Sunday (23rd October) Warning: Contains graphic description of a hurt child Status: Complete narrative
The line at Sugarplum's Sweet Shop had been particularly long that day. Miles was in no hurry, and he had enjoying staring at the customers in front of him and wondering if their reasons for buying there that afternoon were as odd as his... and how they'd react if they knew that the two boxes of raspberry-filled Chocoballs he had pre-ordered were for a rather strange and picky garden gnome who liked to dunk certain sweets on his milk bowl. However, once his turn had come, his amusement had turned into restlessness. By then his bladder had decided to complain about the pint he had earlier on at the Leaky Cauldron. Beer and long lines definitely shouldn't mix. Once the witch at the counter addressed him, he knew he really had to go. Right now.
Trying to look as cool as possible, he paid for his package and asked if the dear lady would mind terribly keeping it for a few moments more, as he needed to deal with some pressing matters. Oh, and could she please indicate where the restroom was? Smiling, the witch pointed at a door to the right, and Miles, with a word of thanks, followed her indication in what he hoped was a normal walk rather than a duckish waddle.
A few moments later, feeling much lighter and less conspicuous, he reached for the handle on the men's room's door - but before he could open it, the desperate scream of a baby made him froze. He turned, and saw that the small cupboard below the sink was open. Warily, he approached it - and there, staring at him in an accusatory tone and crying her lungs out, he saw his baby sister. Jem's face, arms and legs were covered in cuts, blood gushing from them, and her tiny fingers were holding the remains of her bottle. Milk and blood had mixed on her lap in a sickening shade of pink.
Miles felt his insides freezing. This was not possible. This Jem was a small baby, only a few months old. This had been his first manifestation of magic, at the age of five, when a fit of jealousy caused him to make her bottle explode... but thankfully nothing had happened to her. And yet in his bad dreams in the nights that had followed, this is how his mind had relived the incident. No matter how fine she was, and how close the two siblings had grown up to be, he had never forgiven himself.
Taking a few slow steps back, he reached for the door handle, returning to the safety of the shop. His heartbeat was drumming inside his ears as he approached the witch, whose smile faltered as she saw the look on his face.
Swallowing, he told her, low enough that the other customers wouldn't hear, "I'm afraid it looks like you've got a boggart in there..."