#gael's deal is worthy of a whole other oneshot so just roll with it

[fischerfrey]

spring break: day 03; breakfast

Word count: 600

March, 1996; London

She found Merula on the balcony the next morning, wearing one of Verna’s own coats against the cool spring air, sipping tea from one of the mugs Verna had hidden on the highest shelf because she never used it. It had rained the previous night and Merula’s hair was curlier and messier for it. It was also longer, Verna noticed now, in the morning light. She hadn’t seen her in so long it felt like a lifetime. She wasn’t sure she had forgiven her either.

“I’m sorry,” said Merula when she heard her enter. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You said that already,” Verna replied, pushing the balcony door fully open.

“It’s still true. Barnaby and Ismelda don’t want anything to do with me.”

Verna wasn’t exactly surprised to hear it, after everything that had happened between them.

“What about Gael?” she asked.

“He’s one of them, now. His uncle escaped with my parents.”

“Yeah, I heard, I just didn’t really expect him to—"

“Trust me, neither did I.”

Verna sighed. A bad choice of words, trust, but at least she didn’t feel as though Merula was planning on killing her right at that moment.

“My parents brought him along once, to try and convince me to join.”

A question which had been plaguing her ever since Merula arrived popped to her lips: “Why didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t— I don’t want to be a fucking Death-eater. Have you heard what they’re saying about your grandmother? How she had your dad with a muggle man and now you’re all blood-traitors and—”

Before she could finish, Verna interrupted her, saying: “I know. My family is in hiding. And as for me, let them come.”

Merula shook her head, almost like she had anticipated Verna’s response. “You haven’t changed.”

Verna wasn’t an idiot, she knew she couldn’t face someone like Voldemort head-on, but most of his followers were a different deal entirely. She had bested better wizards at seventeen. Merula shivered despite the coat on her shoulders. Verna had already told her she could stay so there was no reason to lurk on the balcony, drinking stale tea from a dusty, old cup.

“Come on in,” she said softly, “It’s cold out here.”

~

Verna made them both fresh cups of tea and sat across from Merula at her tiny kitchen table. She had bought oranges the day before, so she grabbed one and started peeling it. Merula kept silent, staring at the steam coming from her tea. According to her, she had been on the run for weeks and she did look worse for the wear. Verna wasn’t sure if she had been telling the truth about having nowhere else to go, but at least the people after her would never expect Merula to come to Verna, not after everything.

“Do you want to split this?” Verna asked eventually, moving the discarded peels aside.

Merula looked up, startled, and nodded. Verna handed her half of the orange.

“Thank you,” said Merula. “For letting me stay.”

Verna nodded. She wasn’t sure why she had done that (or maybe she was but didn’t want to admit it to herself). She watched Merula slowly eat the orange, slice by slice.

“This doesn’t mean I’m alright with what you did,” she said, though her voice still sounded too gentle for the hurt in her heart.

“I know,” Merula replied. “I’m not asking for forgiveness and anyway, I don’t deserve it.”

“It’s got nothing to do with what you deserve,” said Verna, nibbling on an orange slice. Forgiveness didn’t come easy to Verna but she was tired of having more enemies than friends.

Merula looked puzzled. She’d worn the same expression the night before when Verna had let her in.

“What?”

“It’s about what I deserve. And I think I’ve earned some amount of peace.”

fin.

for @kc-and-co‘s event!