#in a prior chapter like lili going off to get them food so it's gonna be smaller scale little slices of tenuous but preserved peace

[mirchloe]

i never post scrapped parts separately, but this 17 page dion pov segment was the bane of my existence for the entire month, and i don't want to let it go to waste, so here it is, entirely unedited. i think as you'll read, compared to what happens in the last chapter, it brings everything to a grinding halt, like a game of catch up to bring the other characters up to speed for the readers. it's very "here they are! here's what they were doing right up to that specific moment where raz is just about ready to take on the big bad! here are their very specific mentalities! they sure just keep TALKING! and LOOKING!" it felt so repetitive and dialogue-heavy that when i kept re-reading the past chapters, this scrapped chapter felt like walking into a wall and having to climb it to get back to the actual plot relevant stuff.

there are definitely things i would liked to save, but scaling down these conversations, making them more concise, it would really fit the story better.

When Dion learned what happened to Raz, if he wasn’t so shocked, then he could have collapsed on the spot.

As soon as his mother cried out over the phone, jolting Dion out of his daily stretches, he rushed to her side. His younger siblings followed, each in different stages of concern, only for their mutual distress to heighten when Donatella sank to her knees. The phone had slipped out of her hands, the springy cord causing it to dangle and swing. Their father grasped it, quickly raising it to his ear and addressing the other side with the proper poise of a hardened ringmaster. While Frazie tended to Donatella, who whispered in a hushed, yet shrill voice, Dion observed his father with wide eyes and clenched fists.

Augustus’ panicked voice killed any semblance of calm. “What? What do you m-? How could this have happened? Yes, yes, I - did you say imprisoned? Why would anyone-?”

But when Augustus floundered, cupping his mouth with tense fingers, it was like when his memories flooded in from the locked parts of his mind. All of a sudden, Augustus lost strength in his legs. He collapsed to the ground, struggling to hold onto the phone. He struggled to speak, frantically demanding answers that the other person could not provide. There was nothing Dion could do as a bystander to his father’s suffering, just as he had felt throughout his life. He was only able to offer comfort when the Aquatos linked their arms around him and each other before braving the storm as a family.

This was different, and yet, all the same. Augustus had been lost for words before, but now, as he failed to string together a sentence, he was like a weathered, battered mirror on the verge of cracking. He was deathly pale, as if multiple needles had punctured his veins and drained him of blood. Hobbling to his feet, he held the wall, his hand placed between strung-up, framed photographs of their family. His thumb caressed Raz’s face, his cherub cheeks, and Dion had almost forgotten he was so small as a toddler.

“Dad, what’s going on?” he remembered asking over the sound of Donatella’s cries..

Augustus shook his head. His face was wrinkled. He seemed to have aged in minutes.

“It’s your brother. It’s Razputin. He’s hurt.”

Dion may as well have taken a punch to the gut. He whipped his head to Donatella, finding her balling her hands into tense fists. She rose from her knees, Frazie and MIrtala holding her for support. Lost for words, he looked among his family, searching for answers only two of them could give.

“‘Hurt?’ How?” Queepie wondered, fidgeting with his collar. “I thought Raz was one of their top agents. How’d he get hurt?

“Pootie was tricked,” Donatella snapped, full of venom. “He’s trapped in another boy’s mind. His-his coworker or whatever! She said they can’t find a way to free him!”

Dion had no fathomable idea what that implied. Frazie, however, stiffened. She was the one demanding to know who had done it.

“Frazie, what does that mean? Trapped in someone’s mind?” Dion tried to breach through the chaos, but Frazie was unwavering, reiterating her question. He once again looked to their father, who brought the phone to his ear, and shouted, “Dad, hey, tell me! What does Mom mean that they can’t free him? Who did this to Raz? What the hell is going on?”

“It’s because of a contraption that I hardly understand myself, but it’s an intern behind Razputin’s entrapment. He’s someone your brother has had many problems with over the years.” 

Augustus’ grave voice lowered. Donatella snatched the phone from him, barking over the gentle, hardly soothing voice of Agent Vodello struggling to get a single word out. He briefly looked at Mirtala, before uttering a heavy-hearted sigh. 

“You know him. It’s a boy named Bobby Zilch.”

Mirtala’s irises dilated. Twin, dark circles enveloped their cerulean shade. She clasped her hands, shaking her head, her jaw twitching. Dion shrank to her side and rubbed her back before her tears could fall. He held her close and listened to her emit a whine like a monotonous siren, her pitch warbling, and he gnawed on the insides of his cheeks.

Again, there was nothing he could do. Providing meager comfort was drudgery when he was utterly helpless. Throughout the ride to the Motherlobe, he stewed and broiled with contempt, holding the shivering, weeping Mirtala to his chest.

For anyone to single out his little brother, they must have wracked with jealousy. Dion knew Raz was talented, progressing with his powers at lightning speed. He was more of a Psychonaut than an acrobat in recent days, but as Dion recalled, he had tried teaching Raz to hide his psychic abilities, repeating verbatim their father’s instructions. When he thought they were cursed to drown, as Dion stared out the window, Queepie resting in Frazie’s lap, he bit his nails into his palms for every sorrowful look Raz gave him after a harsh admonishment.

And then, witnessing Raz in such disarray, slumped against an overgrown apparatus, his malice dissipated. Raz was entirely expressionless, blankly gazing at nothing through half-lidded eyes. How their mother threw herself at his knees, screaming for him to wake up, Dion only heard static.

It was brief, however, as Dion caught sight of the real monster. The one who forced Raz into such a servile position was seated on the opposite side of the Brain Tumbler. His world was slathered in hues of blood red, and Dion’s one regret, in that moment, was letting Frazie get a charging head start.

It took the combined efforts of Oleander and Helmut to maintain the physical distance between the Aquatos and Bobby. Hollis had, somehow, managed to persuade them to remain calm. Then, he watched his mother sink once again to Raz’s knees, bawling against his shins while the Second Head tried consoling her. As explained, there was nothing they could do yet. They couldn’t discern why Raz was trapped when they already removed those peculiar locks. Otto theorized why, but Dion hadn’t heard a word over his mother’s sobering howling.

Hours passed. The tenuous peace eventually shattered. He couldn’t remember what he had snapped at the other agents scattered across the lab. All he remembered was Gisu on the floor, her cheek bruised from Frazie’s elbow swatting her when she teleported in with more devices. Somewhere in the chaos, Helmut was tossed by Queepie, and they, too, were tossed out of Sasha’s lab, letting more and more time pass. It was true chaos, now blanketed in a dense silence.

Someone’s stomach growled and shattered the stillness. It might have been his own. Dion thought his last meal was yesterday’s breakfast. Lili, with dark rings under her eyes, had been nice enough to bring them sandwiches covered in shrinkwrap, but he couldn’t stomach a crumb.

Now that he had returned to reality, acknowledging where he stood, he also couldn’t stomach the intern currently yapping his ear off.

She was about Raz’s height, give or take an inch. Dressed in jeans and a graphic T-shirt, her hair pulled back in tight buns, she somehow looked professional for a teenage intern. When she waltzed over, Mirtala said her name was Phoebe. He didn’t know when she weaseled her way over to them in a wing that was supposedly blocked off with clearance allowed for only particular agents.

Then, much to Dion’s mutual bewilderment shared with his family, Phoebe supplied them with a chance at therapy.

“...and so, that’s what I’m offering because I know how long you guys have been here, and I, well, I heard you weren’t treated the best. Word gets out fast in the Motherlobe,” she explained, folding her hands in front of her waist. She smiled, teeth pearly white and braced. “Any takers? I really do want to help as best as I can, so while they help Raz, I can help you.”

Dion thought Raz was long-winded, but she took the cake. Sweeping his fingers through his greasy hair, grimacing at the faint film on his palm, he said, “Listen, I don’t want to chew you out, but we’re not in the mood. It’s a nice gesture, I guess. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Phoebe frowned, the answer clearly going against her expectations. She surveyed the Aquatos, and Dion had enough of being watched. Pushing off the wall, spotting that Oleander and Milla had absconded from their duties of observing the Aquatos, he raised his hands. He took a stand in front of his family, Augustus and Nona still with Raz. While Donatella remained on her bottom by a window, Queepie and Mirtala murmuring to her, he was glad Frazie joined him shoulder-to-shoulder in protecting their withdrawn, haggard mother. Phoebe stepped back. She seemed to register her advances were unwanted. “Sorry. Maybe that was impetuous of me. Bad timing, too. I know this is a dire situation, and Bobby totally deserves your anger, so if you want to discuss anything with me, or just want to vent, I’m here for you guys. Raz is my friend, too, and I also-” She peeked around Frazie. “-wanted to make sure you’re doing okay, Tala. How are you? We haven’t had a chance to talk since I graduated from Whispering Rock.”

Dion looked at Mirtala, but she wasn’t returning Phoebe’s smile. She stood with Donatella, her flushed face pinching. As Donatella wiped her eyes for what must have been the thousandth, her deep violet mascara staining her cheeks, Mirtala stated, “We aren’t as close as you think, Phoebe.”

She balked. Behind her, Dion saw her two friends waiting in the wing appearing equally mystified. There was an assortment of other interns, too, but they were merely faces in the crowd. Phoebe struggled to respond, but Donatella thrust out her hand. Queepie quickly grabbed it, helping her stand while Mirtala steadied Donatella’s waist.

“Please, just go,” she ordered, and she pointed, though there was no strength in her posture. “This is a family matter. It doesn’t involve you. I won’t give you brownie points for coming over and lecturing us. Take your gaggle of onlookers, and leave us alone.”

“Oh! Um, that’s not at all what I wanted to do. ‘Lecturing?’ Wait, really, I’m not trying to talk down to you guys.” Phoebe folded her arms, a myriad of reactions flooding through her as Donatella leered. “I, uh, look, I’m sorry, Mrs. Aquato, but I’m not trying to get your bad side. Bobby’s the one-”

“Whoa, whoa, Phoebe, area’s off limits. I’m gonna need you to skedaddle.”

Lizzie’s voice echoed as she sauntered from the lab, followed by her assortment of fellow agents. She patted Phoebe’s back, coaxing her to leave. Phoebe rubbed her arm, clearly dissatisfied with the responses she received.

“You guys know the drill. Up and out.” Morris clapped his hands sharply. “Come on. Let’s go. Quentin, Elka, the rest of you, I don’t need to tell you twice.”

Norma set her index finger on the bridge of her glasses, peering at Phoebe. “I understand what you’re doing, but this isn’t the time. You think you’re helping by offering to hear them out, and that’s not what they need. What they require is a definite solution to end this problem.”

Dion’s knuckles ached. He hadn’t realized how intensely he had been clenching his fists. He shifted his gaze toward the lab, knowing nothing of substance was occurring. Until the obvious happened, then the Aquatos would never feel secure, and for Dion, he sensed he wouldn’t be well until he heard that annoying, endearing, high-pitched chuckle.

Phoebe tried again. “But Agent Natividad-”

She lifted her head, pointing with her chin. “They’re clearly not in the mood. Leave it to us, Phoebe, and go with the interns. There should be some scavenger hunt items for you to locate somewhere around the Motherlobe, so I suggest you hop to it.”

Phoebe bit her lip. She sagged under her mentor’s firm derailment. She tried to meet Mirtala’s eyes, but Mirtala ducked her chin to her chest. Frazie reached back and gripped her shoulder, scowling at Phoebe, who had taken on a true visage of dejection. The brunt of their anger was given to her full force, and briefly, just briefly, Dion pitied her.

Relenting, Phoebe nodded. She opened her mouth, but seemed to think better of it. Instead of an excuse, she mustered an apology. She retreated to the other interns, giving a parting glare toward Sasha’s lab. They walked off, escorted by older agents, who finally realized the commotion and ordered them to stay away.

Donatella accepted the box of tissues offered by Sam. She thanked her in a thick, tight voice before blowing her nose. She rasped for breath, taking another tissue for good measure. As she cleaned herself for what might have been the tenth time, she said she needed a minute and dragged herself to the window. It overlooked parts of the Quarry, but Dion couldn’t find any beauty in the glistening, clear waters. They may as well have been bubbling and polluted.

No one spoke. Glances were given, not words. Dion locked eyes with Gisu, and still, he couldn’t grasp what needed to be said. Gisu, along with the rest of the agents, were just as withdrawn. Nobody had slept, evidenced by the shared dark circles under their eyes. If they had eaten, the amount of food was in small, unfulfilling quantities, such as Lili’s unwrapped, untouched sandwiches.Lili 

Frazie drew in a sharp, sudden breath and flatly remarked, “Sorry I walloped you, Gisu.”

She blinked, taken aback. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, no problem. You didn’t know I’d teleport to that spot. I’m lucky your elbow didn’t materialize through my skull.”

Dion pulled a face, but stopped himself from replying when he noticed Queepie fidgeting with his sleeve. He asked him what was wrong.

Queepie turned his attention to Morris. “Is, uh, Mr. Fullbear still mad I threw him?” He chuckled, leaning forward in his chair. He reached over and ruffled Queepie’s hair, parted on the side. “The big guy’s tougher than you give him credit for, man. He was frozen for twenty years, so you’d think his muscles would’ve atrophied, but nope. He’s built like a brick shithouse.”

Donatella immediately glowered at him for the language in front of her ten-year-old. Morris pretended not to notice, eyes flitting across each sibling before sharing a quick grin with Queepie.

“Physical therapy has kept him strong,” Adam piped up, fingers typically steepled. “Not to mention the ice kept him perfectly preserved. His husband once told me he’s jealous that his bones aren’t clicking as much as his.”

“He even has better posture than Norma,” Sam added, earning a scoff of surprise from her intended, or unintended, target.

“Hey, my back is - oh, I’m not getting into a tit for tat with you. It’s already too tiring.”

“Even if she’s right?” Lizzle drawled, elbowing her sister, and earning a quiet titter of giggles from Mirtala. She grinned a lopsided smile. “Hey, finally, I got a laugh out of you. Being morose doesn’t suit you.”

Dion couldn’t bring the corners of his lips to rise. As sweet as it was to hear her soft laughter, it was not enough to bandage their wounds. He looked at Donatella, finding she was already departing from the group. She swayed toward the nearest window, and although his back was turned, he sensed she was not observing the surrounding foliage or crystal clear water.

Frazie huffed out a breath like a frustrated horse. She cupped her knitted brows, her expression twisting. She opened her mouth, and said nothing. Then, she rolled her head back and slackened her arms, asking the obvious.

“I think enough time has passed, so does…does anyone know why this happened? Any fathomable reason?”

As she tossed out her hands, the agents weren’t responding. Sam looked at the others, and Morris crossed his arms. Gisu fidgeted with the strap of her new, leather bag. She sent a glance toward Norma, who maintained eye contact with Frazie.

At Lizzie’s nod, Adam sighed. He lowered his shoulders. Dion heard his joints grind.

“When we saw Raz last, Bobby lashed out at him. Sure, Raz goaded him, but that’s not enough. There’s been a history of provocation, more so on Bobby’s side, and this was a meticulously planned attack on Raz. The PSI locks jamming the Brain Tumbler, for example, were ones Bobby had been seemingly working on for some time.”

Gisu added, “With how many Bobby wedged in the Brain Tumbler, it would take at least a few weeks for someone without technical knowledge to create. Otto said they were cheap or something, but that just goes to show how far Bobby was willing to go. He must’ve been feeling-”

“That asshole has been planning this for a while, right? I don’t need to hear anything else.” Dion scoffed, gripping his elbows, and Gisu frowned, as if she was biting her tongue. “He’s always had it out for Raz. Day one in that camp? Raz told me that guy fired at him from a tank. A tank! Ever since then, he’s been jealous and spiteful, all because Raz was better than him. A bastard with a violent streak like that never should’ve been allowed in the Psychonauts.”

He punctuated his frustration by slamming his fist into his open palm. He didn’t want to hear any further reasoning. It didn’t matter. Raz was still a prisoner in Bobby’s mind, facing unknown tribulations while his family stood on the outskirts.

This time, they weren’t permitted to help. They couldn’t rush into action. Like bit players, they were watching the show with the curtain veiled over the stage. As he was sure his brother’s body was becoming colder and paler, Dion didn’t want to consider anything beneficial for Bobby. Whatever he felt, whatever he endured, it was secondary to the suffering he must have been enforcing upon Raz.

Frazie glanced at Dion, sucking in a breath, then huffing it out, deciding it was worth saying. “I don’t know about that last part, Dion.” “What do you mean? What’s wrong with what I said?” Dion felt their mother’s eyes boring through him, as if compelling him to question them in her stead. “This guy attacked Raz! Trapped him in his mind! He’s definitely brutalized him! How else am I supposed to interpret it, huh?”

Adam’s voice was clipped. “The Psychonauts don’t abandon their own. This obviously wasn’t a standalone act of violence.”

“I don’t want to hear anything excusing that asshole! He hurt Raz! End of story!”

“Earlier, when you said-” Lizzie peered at Mirtala, who waited with wide, dull eyes, and Dion snorted as he was ignored. “-Bobby looked like he was crying, it had us all wondering. Things that were missed that led up to him, well, cracking.”

Sam stroked her arm, unblinking as she spoke in an uncharacteristically somber tone. “Kind of like how a dam breaks.”

As Queepie gasped, and Mirtala covered her mouth, Donatella whipped her head over her shoulder. Dion didn’t need to stare at her. He knew shock was scorching her face a brilliant scarlet. Every bit of reddened rage colored his cheeks, as well. Dion’s insides twisted, his own emotions in turmoil. He raised a slow, accusatory finger at Sam’s face, hunching forward as he snarled through gritted teeth.

“You better not mean what I think you’re implying. Nona’s circumstances were different and way more excruciating. You keep her name out of your mouth.” 

Sam didn’t flinch. None of them did.

Dion felt like a cauldron boiling over with toxic carbonation. If what she implied was true, then they had the nerve to compare Nona, who had been a corrupt gzar’s political pawn, to a manipulative fraud like Bobby Zilch. She had been berated and barraged with tragedy. What could have even been comparable? Failing an obstacle course in summer camp while Raz strived? Being unable to learn a psychic skill with the same aptitude as Raz? Hiding behind a tree and glaring at their family when they visited the Motherlobe? It was ridiculous, a cruel joke to believe their weight was equal. Dion shook with such palpable rage that he had half a mind to storm into the lab and smash his tired fist through that contraption, if it meant rescuing his brother from a devil in disguise.

“Dion,” Frazie snapped, gripping her head once more, “drop it. Just drop it.”

He pivoted to Frazie, incredulous. “Nona is nothing like the guy who singled out Raz. Are you defending him now?”

“Ugh! I’m not. I wouldn’t. The Psychonauts-” Frazie filled her chest with air and exhaled with pained exertion. “The Psychonauts helped Nona when our world turned upside down, all right? When that happened, they protected her.” She held up her hands. ��Adam’s right. It’s not like them to abandon anyone in need. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Oh, yeah? You’re leaving a lot out and-”

“Look, just let us finish. We’ve been going over this diligently with the senior agents, and we want you to hear us out,” Norma insisted, and she lightly patted Gisu’s shoulder, prompting her to continue before Dion could shout.

“Trapping Raz, Bobby definitely intended to hurt him. No other facts point otherwise, but when Lizzie told us Tala’s observation, we started wondering if this really was a cry for help. Heck, Oleander even phoned home and learned Bobby was-”

“You’re joking! None of this was a cry for help! Raz was deceived! So were the rest of you!” Dion barked. He couldn’t believe they had spent a few summers of youthful bliss together. For her to so much as consider a plight of decency for the unforgivable whelp who had harmed Raz, he wanted to scrub his mouth out with soap.

“Or whatever Bobby originally wanted was turned into something else between them,” Sam stressed. “Y’know, becoming a cry for help. They haven’t made any messed up noises in a few hours, right?”

“No! Not right! What the hell is wrong you guys? You’re making up excuses.”

“Not like we’ll know what’s actually happening until they emerge,” Morris retorted, drumming his fingers on the fortified armrests of his new chair. “So, at this point, with how long this has gone on, the Psychonauts are willing to give Bobby the benefit of the doubt. We want to hear what Raz says before any hasty decisions are made, too. That’s coming from the Grand Head himself.”

Dion shook his head. They may as well have promoted Bobby as a Psychonaut for his daring little scheme. It was like they were looking the other way, pretending not to see Raz. They could say how much they cared for Raz, how much they wanted to see him back on his feet, all while espousing platitudes for his kidnapper. It was a low bar for the Psychonauts, declaring Bobby would face consequences, and they couldn’t cross that nanoscopic threshold.

“We won’t know the whole truth until they’re freed, and we’ll go from there. That’s what Hollis and Truman have decided with the other agents,” Norma concluded, and she clutched her wrist, meeting Frazie’s narrowed gaze. “With how quiet things have been, and no visible, physical reactions have been happening for the past few hours, it’s a possibility things are calmer between them in Bobby’s mind.”

Dion chewed on the inside of his cheek. His family was stuck outside, left to take their statements at face value. The lab was right there, but it was like they had to traverse across a moat to reach the castle. They had some nerve deciding on what to do without consulting his family.

Regardless, he watched Mirtala approach. She wrung her hands, rolling her wrists. His stomach flipped at her agonizingly hopeful voice, like tittering birdsong from a weary, groggy sparrow.

“You mean, they could be working it out? And maybe-maybe things will be okay?” 

Norma managed a smile that twitched a little more than probably intended. “That’s my, well, our hopeful conjecture. Trust me when I say we’ve been debating this for some time amongst ourselves and our superiors.”

Queepie itched through his scalp, his hair just as flat and matted as Dion’s. The embodiment of discomfort, he mumbled, “I mean, I won’t believe anything until I hear it from Raz. He better wake up soon.”

“I’m-I’m sure he will,” Mirtala said, spinning to his side. “I bet Boo, uh, Bobby will, too, and they can tell us what happened.”

Yeah, if I don’t get to that guy’s scrawny neck first.

Dion let those words fester in his mind. No matter the carefully curated statements, he wasn’t interested in comprehending their rationale. If he was in a better mood, then he might have admitted they made observations with merit. He hadn’t heard a single, dismal groan echoing from Raz in some time. For that, he guessed he was grateful the situation had seemingly calmed.

In the end, the one who mattered was Raz. He was still suffering in an unknowable mind with a person who loathed him beyond petty, childish rivalry. Whatever Bobby had endured, or supposedly endured, was nothing compared to the horrors he must have been enacting upon Raz.

One glance at his sister affirmed his trepidation. Frazie’s gaze teetered toward the lab. Norma uttered her name, and she stiffened. The attention was clearly unwanted, a burden on her tense back. She looked down, spotting Queepie, Mirtala, but Raz was not with them. There should have been five high-flying, death-defying Aquato siblings, not four.

She withered. A tree without roots was destined to falter.

“I get it. That guy hates Raz. Whenever Raz visited, sometimes, he mentioned a problem he had with that asshole. I swear, I’d see him lurking in the Questionable Area when me and Raz were catching up on our acrobatics.” Dion heard her jaw click. “But even if you guys say all that, say there’s a method to his madness, to trick Raz while he’s vulnerable, and trap him in his mind? I still can’t figure it out. What did Raz do that was so bad? No, actually, why Raz? Why hurt Raz at all?”

Her voice cracked. She tossed out her hands. But no one could provide proof. Explanations were paltry, a means to delineate the facts when the obvious inference rang loud and true. Dion gripped his elbows, squeezed his eyes shut, and saw Raz’s limp, bloodless body slumped against the Brain Tumbler.

Raz was imprisoned in Bobby’s mind. Nothing else mattered. No matter what was happening or had occurred, it didn’t smooth over the real truth like an eroded stone at the bottom of the sea. Until Raz was safe and free from Bobby’s clutches, Dion couldn’t rest, even as his head throbbed and heart rattled between his ribs.

He heard Donatella sniff. Her footsteps dwindled. She must have returned to the window.

Norma peered at her fellow agents. They wore their sympathetic masks, lips turned downward, slight mist glazing a few eyes. She seemed to speak for all of them. “There’s no justification. There’s only what we can do to understand when they’re out.”

“You should have just said the first part.”

When his mother interrupted, it hit Dion very, very suddenly that she had been far too quiet. Even her footsteps were pittering.

Everyone faced her. Mirtala’s silver bells chiming out of tune when she jerked her head. Donatella hunkered forward with her clenched fist on the rounded window. She slowly shook her head, leering at the dull carpet and potted ferns. If she had psychic powers, then Dion believed she would have set the entire Motherlobe ablaze in a swarm of uncontrollable flames.

Lizzie tempted her fury. “Uh, what do you mean? We-”

“You heard me!” she spat, flinging out her fist, each finger extending like whips. “Pootie is innocent. Pootie has done nothing wrong, and-and as soon as he emerges, I’m taking him out of the Psychonauts! He is coming home!” “Mom!” Frazie blurted, eyes shooting wide open. “You can’t just-”

“Don’t Mom me, Frazie. After today, after all this, you’re just as shocked as I am. You asked why someone would do this to Raz? Wel, such a situation never should have happened. If he stayed with us-”

“I understand you’re upset,” Norma hastily interjected, “but that’s not your decision. Raz is-”

Donatella huffed, breathing so hard that Dion thought her lungs would give out., Her mascara stains worsened as a glossy sheen of sweat dampened her face. It seemed she no longer cared about her once graceful appearance, nothing more than a caricature of maternal sorrow.

“I’ve had enough listening to the six of you. You don’t know what you’re talking about, and you say you’re Raz’s friends?” She snapped her attention to Mirtala, who squeaked, and Dion winced. “And you say that monster was crying, Tala? So what? He attacked your brother! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten those nights when you’d come to me telling a story about how he insulted or berated you, too.”

Mirtala shifted. She couldn’t meet Donatella in the middle. Dion kept his hands to himself.

“It’s a possible sign of guilt,” Norma snapped, swiftly regaining her composure. “Since this has gone for so long, it’s more likely than not Bobby’s dealing with some heavy regrets about the entire situation. ”

“And don’t forget Raz is a Psychonaut. There’s a chance he’s handling this,” Lizzie added, standing shoulder to shoulder with her sister. “Yeah, this sucks. Totally, completely blows. No one is saying this isn’t hell on Earth for everyone, but even so, you can’t make the choice to take Raz away from something he loves doing.”

“‘Loves doing?’ Oh, you’re telling me he loves being sequestered in that monster’s mind?” “Not at all what I said, and you know it, lady.”

Adam shot Lizzie a look, their mutual frustration palpable. “What Lizzie means to say is-”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what any of you say. I don’t give a rat’s ass for what that monster could say.” Donatella flung her finger toward the lab, her tone strident, so potent that every window in the Motherlobe could have shattered from her sonic decibels. “What could he possibly say other than a cheap sorry? He still made the decision to hurt my son! I want my son home! None of you could protect him! None of you! I couldn’t! I-!”

She choked. As if something was lodged in throat, she hacked and hobbled. Fresh sobs wracked her entire body. She was far frailer than Dion had ever seen, a porcelain doll with gilded, widening cracks. She may as well have shattered. No gold would cement her together again as Donatella cried. Through the black tears dripping between her fingers, staining the carpet in inky droplets, she raked her fingers through her unkempt hair splayed in lank strands over her shoulders.

Queepie rushed to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist. Mirtala was quick to join, a stumble in her step. Donatella scooped them up like she would lose them, too, as if an invisible force would rip them from her iron grip.

Frazie dragged a finger along her damp eyelids. She looked at the agents, commiserating. Norma reached her first, one hand to her bicep, saying nothing. Dion wasn’t sure what could have been sound as the anguished howls of a broken mother rolled throughout the dismal, quiet Motherlobe.

Dion tipped his chin to his chest. He could barely suck in air through his gritted teeth. He grinded on them so hard that they may as well have turned to chalk.

“Yes, that’s what I’ve decided. He’s coming home. My baby is coming home with us. He’s going to stay with his family. He’s been away long enough. I can’t trust you people to keep him safe.”

Donatella wheezed her desires through chattering teeth. She glared over her youngest children toward the lab, and Dion heard the soft clicking of approaching heels, tempered by quickening footsteps of rainboots. 

“And I know I certainly can’t trust him with the likes of you.”

The visage of the Lesser Head of the Psychonauts did not change. She stood with her arms behind her back, looking down on Donatella with an unreadable expression. Lili bristled, glancing between them, before settling on crossing her arms when Hollis stepped toward Donatella. “Mrs. Aquato,” she said with undeserved evenness, “can we speak privately?” “This is private enough,” Donatella hissed, relinquishing her grip on Queepie and Mirtala to gesture. “Now that those weaselly interns are gone, no one else is in this corridor. If you want to preach to me, too, do it in front of everyone.”

She did not waver. She simply extended her arm. “Just down the hall. Please. I want to talk to you alone.”

Donatella shook. She glared out the window, only to scoff when she seemed to have spotted Hollis’ reflection. When Hollis reached into her pocket and retrieved a small packet of tissues, Donatella scrubbed her eyes with her dried, blackened knuckles.

As Donatella continued refusing her, Dion was surprised when Hollis turned to him. He wasn’t psychic. He thought she would have deferred to Frazie, who had undergone her tutelage. Frazie might not have been a Psychonaut, and yet, she still had an in that Dion lacked. She did not reach physically, as Dion took a solitary step away, and as if sensing his apprehension, Hollis addressed him from where she stood.

“I’m sorry. I failed,” she murmured, and Dion saw the rings under her eyes, somehow even darker than the ones under his. Her exhaustion bled into her slow words. “Plain and simple, I failed both Raz and Bobby. If you want to discuss missed signs, I should’ve realized everything much sooner. I shouldn’t have berated Raz for his obvious distrust. I shouldn’t have been quick to believe Bobby’s tears. Whatever is happening in Bobby’s mind, whatever Raz is going through, it’s on me. The Psychonauts take full responsibility.”

“Agent Forsythe-” Norma began, but Hollis raised his hand.

“An apology means nothing without action,” she said, and she looked to Donatella, who continued leering out the window, “which is why I’ll hope you’ll grant me the courtesy-” “Courtesy,” Donatella snarled.

“-to talk in private. Away from this very upsetting place. Even if it’s just right over there.”

“You must have lost your brain somewhere. Is it rolling around in one of those little capsules? If you think I’ll spend a second with you, you’re madder than a hatter.”

Dion dug his fingernails into his hips. Tension eased in his shoulders, so much so that they cracked as they lowered. With the discussion coming to a dead halt, he heard the blood pulsing between his ears. A rhythmic, monotonous flow almost dizzied him, and his damp eyes fluttered to stay afloat. He searched among the group, his austere mother leering down at the Second Head, who no longer wore her pride on her expansive shoulder pads.

Lili bared her teeth, ready to speak, but Hollis cupped her shoulder. She shook her head, dispelling the foaming fury that must have been rising in her throat. Donatella peered at her, one eyebrow neatly arched, and Dion assumed she was surprised Lili would seemingly muster an attempt to defend Hollis.

Left with his thoughts, Dion clutched his dry, cracked elbows. Without a word bouncing among them, he directed his gaze toward the lab, as he had done countless times. He knew what was happening, and no progress was being made in any meaningful manner. Patience was never his virtue. He had been still and stiff and silent long enough.

But he kept looking at Hollis. He presumed her to be a powerful leader. She was responsible for the Psychonauts under her care. Interns, agents, retirees, it didn’t matter. With how long she had known and trained Raz, the Motherlobe like a second home whenever Raz wasn’t traveling with his family, Hollis had garnered a tight-knit relationship with his little brother. Dion remembered how proud Raz was whenever he could state Hollis had trusted him with a mission, or took the time to further his training in private. Around the campfire, Raz rarely had a negative word about Hollis, even if their mother grumbled.

He glanced at the other agents. They were Raz’s friends, partners who had helped him face down his familial foe. Without them, the circumstances might have been different. In the years Raz spent with them, he, too, had dozens of tales to tell about them. Missions, pranks, movie nights, it was as if they had scooped Raz into their arms, carting him off like their own little brother. In the time he was apart from Raz, and Raz came home revealing something new he had learned from one of them, the joy on his face was undeniable. Stars practically twinkled in  his eyes, and Dion had to admit the plethora of twisting emotions, seeing Raz grow and learn sometimes without him, jabbed at his sides.

But they cared about Raz. Despite Dion’s own uncertainties, it was more than obvious they treasured him. He was the world’s youngest Psychonaut, along with being their trusted colleague and friend.

They wouldn’t have worked so tirelessly to free Raz if they were dismissive. And as Dion watched Hollis swipe a tissue to quickly brush at her eyes, he thought his legs would give out.

If she was experiencing identical anguish as the Aquatos, acknowledging the deep-seated grief stewing within Dion, then he blurted a command that the Dion of yesterday never would have considered.

“Mom, I think you should take her up on this.”

Donatella stared at him like he had split his head open, and blood gushed down his face. Even his siblings gawked. It didn’t take a psychic to perceive the look of complete incredulity crossing Queepie’s countenance to realize he was thinking, Who replaced Dion with a look-a-like?

“It-it might be better if you do,” he hastily added, “because, uh, because it’ll clear the air.”

She swallowed hard. She regarded Dion like a stranger. “I thought you would’ve been on my side.”

His blood froze over. Ice in his veins, Dion couldn’t break from her softened, surprised stare. He may as well have told his mother she was wrong.

But Frazie took to his side. She didn’t gaze at Dion. Rather, her tone took on their shared strength. 

“Mom, it’d be better if you talked to Hollis one-on-one.”

Donatella hesitated. She held her breath. Although Hollis offered her another tissue, she remained as stationary as a rusted, marble statue on a paltry foundation. She kept her hands to her chest, and clear tears slithered down her marred cheeks.

Dion’s heart hammered. It ricocheted between his ribs, threatening to break every single one. Tensing his knees, he ordered himself to remain upright. He couldn’t turn to Frazie, but no psychic connection was needed to affirm where they stood.

Their mother huffed. She cradled her head. And a semblance of peace returned.

“Oh, fine, fine. I know when you two are united, there’s no point in arguing.” 

She stomped down the hall, her brisk pace prompting Hollis to follow. Without a parting word or a promise of when she would return, Donatella vanished around the rounded corner, Hollis in tow.

Dion dropped his head. His entire body slumped forward. Frazie’s hold on his collar prevented him from falling over outright. Hearing her snicker, he snorted at whatever amusement she derived from his exhaustion.

Before he could remark on anything, Lili snatched the shrinkwrapped sandwiches left in a heap on the floor. “You guys seriously didn’t eat the food I brought? They definitely aren’t as fresh now,” she grumbled, telekinetically shoving them in each Aquato’s hand. “Come on, eat them. I know you guys haven’t had anything.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Queepie muttered, tearing his open with Mirtala. “Ew. There’s some weird sauce in here.”

“It’s called aioli.”

“That does not look like aioli. It’s too green.”

“Then, some relish got in it! Sheesh, Queepie, it’s a club sandwich.”

Sticking his tongue out at Lili, Queepie gasped when Mirtala lightly kicked his shin. He looked ready to kick her back when Dion eyed him. He scoffed and shoved the sandwich into his mouth, ignoring Mirtala’s perfectly innocent air.

“Think those two are gonna be okay?’ Gisu wondered as Dion fiddled with his shrinkwrap.

“Well, they haven’t shouted in thirty seconds. I’d say things are going better than we hoped,” Lizzie sneered.

Norma checked her watch. “Almost a minute, now. Still no screaming.”

Dion scoffed through his first bite, only for his eyes to widen. The taste of dry turkey, watery tomatoes, and excessive mayonnaise was like fine dining from a master chef. Foregoing any food made an average sandwich a meal fit for a king. But while Frazie grinned, Dion simply turned his head, trying to eat as casually as possible.

Lili cracked her jaw, reminiscent of Lizzie. She peered at the agents, saying nothing verbally, but he could tell telepathy was in play. He had seen Raz concentrating when they were in their beds, gazing at nothing in particular, while being immersed in a conversation with someone far away. She wore the same look, along with the other agents, but what she suggested had him struggling to swallow the next bite.

“Maybe…we should get out of here, too.” “Wh-? Just leave?” He swatted at his chest and gulped hard. “What if something happens?”

“My dad will tell me, and I’ll tell you. He promised if there were any updates, I’d be the first to know.”

“Yeah? Can we tru-?” He stopped himself, dismissing the budding accusation. If the Grand Head was anything like his subordinate, then Dion supposed he deserved the same respect. “Uh, forget it  Forget I said anything.”

Lili stretched, lacing her fingers above her head and standing on her tiptoes. Dion had seen Raz elongate his spine in the same way. Although a common gesture, he couldn’t help but wonder if Lili had picked up that trait from Raz.

When her back popped, she sighed and crossed her arms. “I get it. Sitting and waiting, it’s really hard, especially when there’s nothing you can do-” Her gaze swept across the munching Aquatos. “-except take care of ourselves.”

Adam ruffled her hair, and she quickly brushed aside his hand. “You phrased it perfectly, Lili. Better than I could.”

“Can we go?” Mirtala asked abruptly to her older siblings. It was unlike her to ask for permission, in most cases. She was the kind of girl who tended to move to her own rhythm.

Queepie didn’t need permission to do anything. It was a trait Dion found more than irritable when he ran off from chores. He was already with the agents, as if expecting Dion and Frazie would comply.

Frazie stared at Lili, their thoughts uniquely private. Then, an almost resigned air, she said, “Some fresh air might be good. It’ll be better to leave Mom alone while she’s with Hollis, too.”

Dion said nothing. He showed his palms and walked in the rear. Frazie joined him, shoulder to shoulder. Watching Queepie speak with Morris, and Mirtala clinging to Lili while Sam tried prying her off, Dion supposed they were the outliers. They hadn’t technically agreed; they were following the group. If Dion was a gambling man, then he would have put all of his chips in by insisting Frazie, like himself, would have rather stayed with Raz.

But she grinned at him, flanked by Norma. “Holding up?” “Hardly,” he said, taking comfort in how Gisu slipped into his shadow. “I bet if we leave, something’s gonna happen.” “Come on, Dion. We’ve waited for over a day. What could possibly happen when we’re gone?”

And although Frazie flashed him a lopsided smile, Dion smothered his trepidation, clinging to the hopeful strand that a peaceful resolution would ensue, even if he still wanted nothing more than to punch Bobby Zilch’s lights out.

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 31

Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L  Warnings: Language, smoking weed, shitty parenting, mentions of death A/N: more of a filler but it helps establish stuff. *unbeta'd

【 Masterlist | Previous Chapter | ao3 】

Chapter 31: Drowning on Dry Land

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The week before her flight back, Matthew’s parents invited her over for dinner.

Waiting to greet them at the door was Mrs. and Mr. Gaplin. Matthew’s father, a Half-Maj, was a Potioneer while his mother, an Old-Maj, was a Court Scribe. They wore large, kind smiles as Mrs. Gaplin pulled her into a tight, crushing hug.

After pleasantries, she and Matthew kicked off their shoes while his parents ushered them to the dining room.

“How are you darling? '' Mrs. Gaplin asked, floating plates in their direction as everyone began helping themselves to food. “Matt wouldn’t stop talking about you since we knew y’were coming.”

She side-eyed Matthew who groaned loudly. “Did not!”

“Sure thing,” she added, which caused Matthew to slump in his chair as his parents laughed at him.

It was a nice, charming evening; filled with laughter and heartfelt conversations. His parents continued to gloat about Mathew’s achievements that he hadn’t told her. It caused him to almost get up and run out of the room from embarrassment before moving to boast about Y/N. Even Mr. Gaplin asked her regarding her OWLs which pleasantly surprised her.

A few times, Mr. Gaplin pressed a few cheeky kisses to his wife’s face as Matthew made loud retching noises.

“Disgusting!”

Mr. Gaplin laughed. “Ya sixteen. Suck it up.”

“But you’re still my baby!” Mrs. Gaplin cooed, getting up to collect the plates.

Matthew tried to look insulted but she could see the small smile that threatened his lips as jealousy nipped at her toes.

The next few days were spent staying at the Gaplin household. Matthew’s parents insisted constantly that she should stay over so they could utilize the little time they had left before leaving. At first, the idea made her feel intrusive. Although, her mother hadn’t returned to the brownstone house, preferring to sleep in the on-call rooms at the Brooklyn Memorial Hospital. It quickly got lonely and boring before Y/N finally agreed. Besides, Mrs. and Mr. Gaplin were only around for breakfast and dinner - working for the day but never failed to return; always wearing larger smiles than the previous night.

They made her feel welcomed and warm - even taking her and Matthew to the local pictures. They included her in everything, even their trivia and board games after dinner.

It was quite the change compared to her family life.

Then an identical routine ensued. She would wake up, get ready for the day; spend hours with Matthew; then twilight fell as they stayed awake into the early hours of the morning.

The day before she was due to leave, she and Matthew ran up to his room after dinner. He went to lean on top of the small coffee table, rolling up a joint as she collected her possessions scattered around his room; not wanting to leave it for the last minute.

“Fancy some grass?” He asked in a poor British accent.

“Nah,” she shook her head, “But thanks love.”

Mathew’s smile turned bashful as he stood, turning on the radio in the background. She moved to open his window which was just above the roof of his shed as she stepped out with steady feet. Perching herself down on the blankets and pillows they hauled outside the night prior, she stared at the glowing city splayed in front. From the window, The Velvet Underground flowed softly.

Matthew proceeded to hop out, sauntering over as he threw a flirtatious wink.

“Brough this,” he said, tossing the camera he’d taken from her bag. She caught it as he nestled beside her and lit the joint; placed in his mouth. Billows of smoke clouded around them while she snapped a few photos of the view.

“Ya sure you gotta leave?” Matthew whined, embers of the end of the joint sparking with another huff. “Maybe you can smuggle me. Shove me into that trunk.”

She pulled the camera away from her face, inhaling the earthy, pungent scent. Her head felt a bit lightheaded from it. “A hardcore criminal at sixteen?”

Matthew was mildly amused until a troublesome look passed through his features. “Um — name something ya miss most about home.”

Home. What a funny word — place — feeling. Home was supposed to be something that made your heart glow, feel warm and happy — by that definition, a year ago home would’ve been her little house back in Toronto with the beautiful maple trees swaying in the backyard. Or home would’ve been Ilvermorny and its tall ivory walls. But now, London, or maybe just Hogwarts, had become her home. The scrolls around the Herbology greenhouse, the library, sneaking around past curfew; the Black Lake, Hogsmeade — Lily, James, Marlene, Dorcas, Remus, Regulus…

Unsure of what to say, she opted for, “You?”

Matthew rolled his eyes, bringing the joint to his lips. “Real charmer.” Then, smoke surrounded them. “But really.”

“Why?”

“C’mon! I need an answer! — I don’t know… say somethin’ like… lobstah.”

She chuckled. “Lobster? Really?”

“Or coffee from ya regular cafe.”

Deliberating it for a second, lips tugged up. “Coffee Crisp.”

He snorted. “A candy bar? Really?”

“Or Ketchup chips. Haven’t seen them in London yet.”

“That’s fucking disgusting.”

And then the silence returns but it makes Matthew shuffle in his spot. He blurted out, “Go — more brit insight.”

Y/N felt a bit hazy from the secondhand smoke. “More? You’ll get bored.”

“I won’t,” Matthew replied quickly, sounding oddly sincere. “Please, just… go on. Tell me everything.”

“Um… a friend of mine says crikey a lot. I think it just means to be mildly surprised? — They don’t say bloody or blimey as much as you’d think… Oh! Tea — they really drink that much tea. Also —”

Continuing, Matthew shut off again, going completely silent — not once speaking up or adding funny commentary; only staring at her, simply watching.

“Okay,” she turned to take the joint from his hand, “You're freaking me out. Spill, what's up?”

“S’nuthing.”

Whack!

���Jeez! Would ya stop wiv that! Gonna kill me…”

“Spill.”

“Fine! It’s just that…'' Matthew shifted, obscuring his face. Maybe if she didn’t feel so fuzzy, or if there wasn’t the smoke coming from the blunt or her small headache forming, she would’ve picked up on all the little signs. “It’s just —” he sighed, “I wanna hear ya talk — commit it to memory.”

“Obsessed with me? Not new.”

But that seemed to trouble him more. “It’s just… I don’t know if or when I’ll hear it again…” He looks up to the city in front. “Ya my… best friend. Could never forget ‘bout ya, but s’hard — keepin’ in touch.”

She pats him, encouraging and smiling. Her voice was hopeful, so much so that it made Matthew’s lip quirk up. “We’ll find each other. Always.” She said simply. “You and me, we’re like… salt and pepper. Soap and water — Hansel and Gretel!”

“Fuckin’ Dr. Seuss,” he smiled, that worried look fading away.

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The warm summer breeze flowed around them, just as the sun peeked above the airport. Expanse, clear skies with blue mingled with deep purples and pinks shimmered against the metal from the building.

“Gonna miss ya,” Matthew muttered into the crown of her head. Her mother didn’t want him to come, but Y/N simply ignored that request as he came to send her off.

“Don’t get mushy on me now,” she joked but felt her throat become tight.

“Betta get goin’ — Doc’s lookin’ like she’s ‘bout to butcher me if ya don’t.”

She snickered, pushing Matthew’s shoulder as she picked up her bags, walking backwards while waving. “Write me!”

“Course I will! Until next time!”

“Till next time!”

Once the plane took off, awkwardness swelled among the two women. Not once had her mother said anything to her — not to apologize or see how she was doing — although they never really did talk much. Honestly, she half-expected her to leave her in New York with the Gaplins. Easy to dispose of her.

The next few days Y/N, poorly, attempted to fix her sleeping schedule. It was a miracle that she managed to get up before dinner as her head poked into the master bedroom.

She cleared her throat, feeling herself swaying in place. “Um — hi. I’m making dinner tonight.”

Her mother was dressed in a simple, yet sleek dress. She was bent over, putting on high heels as she looked up.

“The hospital is throwing a party for me — the surgery was a success.”

“That’s amazing! Er — will you be back for dinner though? It’s just that I leave soon and... two parties are better than one.”

She considered her for a long time, eyes mostly distracted by her hair slowly changing to a different colour.

“Sure. But I have to go now.”

“Right, sorry, have fun.”

Thudding down the stairs and the door clicking shut, she followed not too long after. Making her way to the kitchen, she picked up a dusty cooking book, blowing off the dust and cracked it open; flicking through the pages.

Deciding on the seemingly easy noodle dish, she rushed out of the house to the local grocery shop for ingredients. It would be the first time they would be spending any time together. It had to be perfect. But she overestimated that no matter how closely she stuck with the dishes’ instructions, the outcome was a disaster.

The noodles somehow were rock hard. The sauce she made looked grey and was chunky, similar to badly mixed concrete and it tasted horrid. At one point, even the stove exploded into flames as she had to grab her wand and use magic to extinguish the fire.

Potions... She could use a cauldron, use multiple ingredients, make some of the most complicated spells and even had tricks of her own to make the process easier but she couldn’t make a simple dish…

Her face screwed together as she glanced up to the clock; she was going to come home soon as the dinner she made was disastrous. She panicked, cleaning up everything in a rush and decided to order food.

Waiting patiently at the dinner table, her eyes fluttered up to the clock in anticipation. She felt giddy, a surge of excitement rattling throughout her bones at the prospect. Her mother wanted to spend time with her! And she should be home any minute.

But then a minute turned to two, then five, ten, twenty, thirty — then an hour ticked by.

And then another.

Y/N got up, her chair squeaking loudly. Losing all her appetite, she went to her room, sleeping in early.

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August 20th, 1976

Going through the potential NEWT courses she could take was the highlight of her day. The possibilities were endless.

Wanting to take Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfigurations and most of all, Potions, left her excited for the school year.

But the more she thought about the upcoming school year or potential courses, she was left to contemplate what ther5 future entailed.

Was she ready to give up magic? Something that fundamentally altered her life and moulded her into what she was? Magic was her essence, something she developed and nurtured — but to put her life in danger…

Rethinking that word again: home… Was London her home? Was she willing to leave, move again to be safer? But practicing magic around the world these days for New-Majs was dangerous. Or the potential danger she would put her mother in if she continued with it?

But magic… Maybe home wasn’t necessarily a place — but rather something she carried. In all sense, magic made her heart glow, feel warm, safe and happy — it felt like what home was supposed to feel like. And the idea of being ripped away from it, forcing herself to live a normal, Muggle life…

Magic was home.

So die, but have what she cared and loved most was by her side or live a dull life without magic — ensuring her life would be miserable.

There was a clicking of shoes in the hallway that snapped her out of her thoughts. Her mother came walking by.

Lips smushed shut into a tight line, still annoyed from the other night but was determined to spend some time with one another.

“I was planning to go to Diagon Alley for the first time — to get my textbooks... '' She stood awkwardly. “Do you want to come with me?”

“I can’t,” she replied, so quickly that it had Y/N almost scoff in disbelief. “Work. But have fun.”

She sighed but still waved her off and said a small, ‘I love you, stay safe.’ Her mother only gave her a look, something unreadable and left without a word. With a heavy heart, she grabbed her purse filled with gold and left for Diagon Alley.

Passing through the Leaky Cauldron was an adventure in itself. The shabby, tiny pub was jammed with wizards and witches zipping by.

Diagon Alley was bustling with so much magic she could feel it pumping through her blood. Students were hypnotized by the shiny new Firebolt on display; others were giggling, running around with shopping bags while older witches and wizards took a scroll. Her head turned in every direction; walking into the Apothecary, a potions ingredients and book shop.

Emmeline was there. She gave a tight-lipped smile which she returned.

Emmeline by every definition was nice, extremely kind and neither girl ever had a problem with the other. James was the problem and Y/N would gladly stay out of their feud.

Passing clamouring students, she managed to get all her supplies but stopped in front of the potion ingredients. She took a few minutes, flicking through the Advance Potions textbook and grabbed everything listed needed for most of the potions.

She made her way around Diagon Alley, going through many shops. The shelves were stacked high to the ceiling with books and materials. She spent more time than necessary there but it was beautiful.

As she was paying for her Herbology textbook, a large boom! rumbled the ground. Y/N took her bags, ready to sprint to the Leaky Cauldron but the shouts caught everyone’s attention.

“WE WILL NOT BURN WITH THEM!” A crowd of witches and wizards shouted. Their wands were transformed into microphones as a few shot fireballs up in the air.

“What’s happening?” A woman asked an old wizard. He only shook his head, grabbing a copy of the Daily Prophet, handing it to the witch.

On the front page, there were moving photos of people protesting, similar to the wizards and witches currently shouting.

‘Protests Break out in Light of Muggleborns and Halfbloods Burned Alive

Voldemort and his followers have been attacking Muggleborn and ‘blood traitor' families with the usage of fire. By burning them alive, or their houses. They bonded the witch or wizard with magic, making it impossible to apparate or leave their houses. Their broken wands were found at the scene.

Since then, protests all around Britain and Scotland have broken out. The Ministry of Magic —’

“WE WILL NOT BURN WITH THEM!” The crowd chanted.

Rage filled every inch of her body as she stomped out of Diagon Alley.

If she wanted to stay in the magical world, she had to be the greatest at whatever she did, because if she wasn’t, someone of her status was never going to get anywhere.

Magic was home, and she wasn’t going to let them take it from her. She didn’t want to surrender. They weren’t going to take that away from her.

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Immediately after Diagonal Alley, she began working; taking in her thoughts from earlier to heart.

Making sure to cover any windows from prying eyes, Y/N fiddle with first with new charms. Still unassured by her abilities in Charms, she considered taking another class before realizing all the different routes it led to. To become a Healer, Auror or Potioneer, she needed Charms.

Multiple charms backfired, causing them to ricochet off the walls, leaving a dent or chipping the wallpaper.

After trying out more than half the Charms in the book, there was one spell in particular that she attempted to cast many times, but without fail, was never able to properly cast it. Frustrated, her hand made a sharp flick and the spell spurted out instantly.

She tried again with the same hand gesture. To her astonishment, the charm produced easily. Quickly, she jotted down the note in her book.

Next, she glossed over her Transfigurations and Defense Against the Dark Arts book until her eyes caught onto the word: werewolf.

She learned briefly about werewolves, but that was in third year. And now that she knew a werewolf, it would be good to rehash it.

A werewolf, also known as a Lycanthrope, is a non-magical or magical being who transforms under the rising of the full moon. However, non-magical beings have a greater risk of dying rather than turning.

As the name suggests, werewolves are closely related to the non-magical animal, wolves. However, they have distinct characteristics that make them easily identifiable from wolves.

She flipped the page.

Wolfsbane flowers are poisonous to the non-magical world but it has been proven to have no effects on werewolves like they do on wolves. Werewolves are immune from the poison they emit and there are reports that Wolfsbane flowers help alleviate symptoms.

She underlined that section.

It’s a uniquely magical illness known to spread by saliva and blood. Werewolves are dangerous, blood-thirsty beasts — she flipped the page.

They cannot choose to transform and will no longer retain their human mind. Given the opportunity, they would slaughter their loved ones — flipped the page.

A mixture of powdered silver and dittany applied to bites help seal bite wounds. It’s also commonly put in liquid and digested in anticipation of full moons to help with the symptoms of transforming.

Y/N’s face scrunched as she continued to read.

There is no known cure Potion used to help treat lycanthropy.

She felt oddly intrusive knowing parts about Remus’ condition. But then questions arose. How were there no Potions of any kind there to help werewolves during their transformation?

Pushing the thought away, she turned to the cauldron, picking a potion to brew. They all were fairly easy, some she’d even done before just by playing around. But one potion that grabbed her attention was Draught of Living Death. Even at Ilvermorny, that potion was notoriously difficult.

Starting up the cauldron, she grabbed hold of the sopophorous bean. However, it kept jumping when she tried to cut it. She quickly resorted to another method, running down to her kitchen and grabbing the handheld garlic press, placing the bean inside, squishing it down as so much juice spurted out, even going all over her clothing.

The potion turned into the light lilac like suggested. But then as she stirred, her potion quickly became ruined as she restarted immediately.

Hours ticked by; several items in her room were Transfigured into cauldrons, as she poured the existing solution into the nine other cauldrons as she conducted her experiment.

Stirring counterclockwise was a sham, so she stirred clockwise. Nothing, the potion went bad. The next cauldron, she stirred counterclockwise and then clockwise, alternating between every stir. It showed promising progress before it turned a bright red after the seventh stir, bubbling over.

The next cauldron, she stirred counterclockwise, then clockwise after the seventh stir as the potion turned a pink pale. That’s what the book said would happen. She quickly cleared the rest of the cauldrons, pouring in the pink liquid just in case.

She continued to stir until it became a clear liquid. Surely, that was good enough but she could never be sure. After all, she didn’t know if this was what it was supposed to look like.

Deeply immersed, she hadn’t realized how late it got.

She laid on her bed, her light on as she read the scribbles on the margins of the books she'd penned. The textbook was outdated and everything she’s written down, there were easier ways to perform spells, create Potions and more. The other books must’ve been outdated too.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 22nd, 1976

Today, her attention was drawn to her Herbology textbook as she flipped right to the medicine section. Y/N had sneakily stolen a few of her mother’s medical journals as she scribbled down notes.

She flicked through the diagrams. Wizards and No-Majs were different when it came to their bodies and sickness, she knew that, but their anatomy was still the same.

An opera played in the background as she sat in front of the television. It filled the silence as her mother came from behind her, creeping her way closer to the door.

Y/N called out from where she sat. “Care to join me?”

“Can't, work.” She grunted out.

She placed the pen down, full attention drawn to her. “I only have a few days until school starts… you can’t spend some time?”

Her mom wasn’t looking at her, ostensibly staring at the floor, anywhere other than her face.

“It’s not that interesting, but um - I need help with medical terms and illnesses. You’re the best at that!”

“I can’t,” she said roughly. “Can't you see? You have to stop bothering me when I’m busy.” And then she left again, leaving her alone. Y/N would’ve been more bothered had she not been so focused on her studies.

There was a pattern.

In the Herbology textbook, in the werewolf section, there were a few ingredients used to help alleviate symptoms of Lycanthropy.

Dittany, Powered silver, Powdered Moonstone, Aconite…

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 26th, 1976

“Do you want to —” “Work.”

“But you always have work… can’t you take some time off?”

“You know it’s important to me. Why do you keep trying to limit that?”

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

August 29th, 1976

She was partially through her Potions and Charms textbook. It was all she could fixate on.

Deciding to take a break, Y/N went to stretch, getting up to talk to her mom who again, was getting ready to leave. She opened the honey-coloured wood draw close to the door. She pulled out a set of keys, fixing her appearance in a nearby mirror.

She had already opened the door.

“Hey mom, I was thinking of getting lunch… Will you be back soon?”

But, there was faint muffling outside the door.

“Ready for our date?”

Y/N, desperate, seized hold of her wrist, pleading. “Please, I leave in a day.”

“I'll make it up to you,” mom replied, “I promise.” And then, the door clicked shut.

Again.

She stared at the door, trying to regulate what she was thinking.

What made them worthy of her time when their’s were limited.

Robotically, Y/N turned to walk to her room, her hip bumped into the drawer which hadn’t been fully closed. Her eyes flew to it, about to push it in as she caught a flash of white.

Yanking it open, she swore her heart could’ve shattered. White envelopes filled the draw; her familiar handwriting scribbled on top of each letter. She picked one up, twisting it over to the flap.

It was unopened.

She picked up another. Unopened.

Then another. Unopened.

Unopened.

All of them were unopened, sealed. Hardly tampered with and there was hardly a wrinkle.

Was there something wrong with her? Something so disgraceful that made her so disgusting that people kept forgetting - pushing her away? Like an insidious disease.

Was she truly that unloveable? That much of a nuisance? What made someone else so much more important than her?

It was too much to process but if she had to describe the feeling, it was like drowning on dry land.

Whatever home was, it shouldn’t feel like this: cold, lonely, sad.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

【 Next Chapter 】

Slang dictionary (+ a bit of history bc i didn’t realize how many ppl didn’t actually understand what I was talking about in other chaps):

Coffee Crisp = a very popular chocolate bar sold in Canada. It was a variation of a treat made by a company from the UK. It was briefly introduced to the UK in the 60s but was pulled back because people thought it was too similar to Kit Kat. From what I know, Coffee Crisp is not commonly found in England (I've never seen it in stores) but it’s sold in Scotland.

Candy bar = US term for chocolate bar / chocolate

Grass = during the 60s - 70s, the term 'grass' was very popular slang for weed in New York bc it featured in vogue.

And yes, the British do drink that much tea.

© gotkindabored 2021. Do not repost or modify

[katnissmellarkkk]

Andddd here’s my chappy three thoughts 🥳🥳🥳

Hmmm Katniss saying that her mother has a dress made of velvet is actually really interesting because it shows that Mrs. Everdeen Lily-Rose really was well-er off before she married Katniss’ father Hunter.

Or did she get the velvet dress from Maysilee? Oh well, who knows.

Aww, Katniss’ nervous habit of touching soft things repeatedly to soothe herself 🤧🤧.

“Crying is not an option. There will be more cameras at the train station.” — someone tell that to Peeta 🤣🤣🤣.

Okay I gotta stop picking on Primmers, I know but like. How small is she that she sits on Katniss’ lap like a toddler but then in the following year is the same height as her? Doesn’t matter I know but still I wonder.

Okay so Mrs. E is the doctor for the people of the Seam? Idk I never thought about this but who does people like Peeta or Madge or Delly go to if they’re sick or hurt? Is there a still running apothecary shop that Katniss never mentions? Are her grandparents still running the family biz?

Also okay, I gotta stop having so many thoughts on all the lil details I know but like. Katniss says here she’s familiar with the herbs her mother doesn’t grow on her own so like a). Katniss is more of a healer than she leads on because no average person knows what kind of plant is medicinal and b). Her mother is just growing herbs and Katniss never mentions it again in the whole series? Or I just missed it.

Okay imma move on from this one singular paragraph but Gale and her made a pact a year ago that they’ll supply each other’s family with game if they were to be reaped... I’m feeling like their close friendship is probably only one year old then? Idk. Just my interpretation.

Honestly I love Katniss getting mad at her mom here.

She’s sixteen, for God’s sake, of course she’s angry at what her mother’s illness put her through.

Also I lowkey like that her mother got mad back because that lady in the movies had zero personality.

“Boys who are two to three times my size.” She sounds so little, omg 🥺🥺🥺.

“I don’t care if we’re rich, I just really want you to come home” 🤧🤧🤧😩😩😩😩 okay Primmers, you got me here.

“the Peacekeeper is at the door, signaling our time is up, and we're all hugging one another so hard it hurts and all I'm saying is ‘I love you. I love you both.’ And they're saying it back...” this is so sad leave me be 😫😫😫😫

Katniss is burying her face in a pillow to block out her emotions this is too much for me 🥵🥵🥵

Omg I forgot Peeta’s father visits Katniss 😅

Why does he visit Katniss?

She describes Peeta’s father as a “big, broad-shouldered man.” And then describes Peeta as stocky. Idk the comparison of the two descriptions has always led me to think Peeta is gonna be a big dude when he grows up like his father. This made no sense and had zero correlation but I thought, so I said it, no regrets

Oh he brought her cookies 🤧

WAIT WAIT WAIT. I just had a new thought, y’all. What if instead of the baker bringing cookies being a thing he does for all tributes, what if he’s bringing the cookies because Peeta asked him to, because he made them and wants to give them to Katniss and knows she’ll never accept / trust them coming from her competition? What if that’s the real reason the baker visited her in the first place? Because Peeta asked him to? This was such a shipper comment but idc, no regrets, remember?

Omg Peeta’s father is just mute 🤣🤣🤣

Between an abusive, angry mother and a mute for a father, the Mellark brothers must have had a fairytale of a childhood 😅😅😅😅.

But seriously #PoorPeetaMyBaby

Aww Peeta’s father is gonna help keep Prim alive 😭

Omg I just remembered he’s her mother’s ex boyfriend. Haidon Mellark, as I named him in my fics.

That one fic where he was thought to be Prim’s real father is just playing now in my head, rent free.

But does Katniss not realize that he may be offering to help Prim as a favor to her? Like she claims Prim is just so wonderful people adore her but there’s like zero evidence in the text that make her endearing? Okay I need to turn this bus around, I need to find a love for Primmy Deen.

Madge is not one for preamble apparently. No “hi, how are you? I’m sorry you’re gonna die? What will your last meal be?” Just right to “here, wear this family heirloom of mine, k thanks.”

I like that Madge had to kiss her cheek for Katniss to realize they were friends 😅😅😅.

I remember always loving her and Gale’s hug here. I’ve always felt like it was platonic, but especially when I first read the books and had zero preference one way or another for Gale or Peeta, I really liked how she said even with nothing romantic between them, “when he opens his arms, I don’t hesitate to go to him” or something I’m paraphrasing ok I’m lazy

Also though, this is the first time they’ve ever hugged? Idk why that surprises me? It shouldn’t because where is a hug gonna fit into a hunting trip 😅🤣😂 “I just caught a deer!” “let’s celebrate with a hug!”

I like that Katniss remembers how her father even failed to make a good bow sometimes. Random, I know.

I like that the Capitol weren’t entertained by the people freezing to deaths because it wasn’t bloody enough 🤭🙃

“How different can it be [to kill a human vs an animal]?” She’s about to find out, Gale 🥺. And when she comes back you won’t understand 🙄😔

What did Gale want to say before the Peacekeepers dragged him away?

I used to think it was a confession of love but I’m actually sure it wasn’t now? Just the wording “remember I-“ doesn’t sound like it, considering he never confessed anything prior to her coming home.

I’m assuming now he was just gonna give her some more advice to stay alive 🤷🏼‍♀️. Clearly if it were relevant it would have made its way to the others books.

Aww, she’s never been inside a car before 😭😭. I didn’t even know they had cars in this universe but okay.

I notice though how she says “In the Seam, we travel on foot.” So is Peeta just riding his trolly down the street every day with the other merchants then? 🤣

Peeta just openly crying on camera 😅😢.

I like how Katniss is like “ooo is this an act to get sponsors?” when in reality Peeta’s like “no, I’m just a soft and genuine boy ™️”

Omg I just realized this totally goes along with Peeta’s thing later on “I want to die as myself”

He’s refusing to hold back his emotions because he thinks he’s doomed to die and he’s already refusing to pretend to be or feel something ingenious.

But a Johanna mention in book 1 chapter 3 woohoo 🥳🥳🥳 also Katniss comparing Jo and Peeta is kind of like foreshadowing of their shared torture in book 3.

Omg she just called Peeta broad-shouldered and strong. 🥰🥰🥰 my headcanon for his post-canon body is confirmed

Also why does Katniss keep allotting his strength to carrying bread trays around? Are they heavy? Why have I never once heard of people who carry bread trays being strong? I always thought Peeta was really strong because he learned to fight in order to defend himself against his mother but that’s probably wrong.

But if a mother is abusive, it can lead to one of the kids being physically violent as well and we know Peeta isn’t but he has two older brothers I’m gonna cut myself off now but I think we all smelled what I just stepped in.

Also I just find it so fascinating now how she regards herself vs Peeta here.

When talking about herself, she says, “The competition will be far beyond my abilities. [...] Oh, there'll be people like me, too. People to weed out before the real fun begins.” But when she talks about Peeta, she immediately says, “It would take an awful lot of weeping to convince anyone to overlook him.”

It’s just funny how she discounted herself right from the start but thought he was a real contender and then come to find out, Peeta believes it’s the exact opposite 😂🙃. They’re both so stupid I can’t even take it.

Wait did they actually give the location of the Capitol and the location of District Twelve in today’s world? And I just overlooked it? Brb I’m gonna go to google maps right quick.

Okay so basically what I gathered is the Capitol is probably in New Mexico and District Twelve is somewhere between Kentucky and Alabama. Irrelevant I know. But just a reminder now to everyone that Katniss and Peeta are literally speaking, crying and screaming in thick, backwoods southern accents.

It’s literally so sad how everything for Katniss is about food. Like every motive she has, every action she does is about preventing starvation ever again. 🤧🤧🤧

First mockingjay mention 🤭🤭.

“My father was particularly fond of mockingjays” 😭😭😭 I bet he was 😭😭😭😭

We always go on and on about how Katniss is a mockingjay or her children are mockingjays but Katniss herself here says mockingjays represent her father imma cry, y’all 😫😫😫😫

“It’s like having a piece of my father with me, protecting me” shut up shut up shut up shut up

Awww, Katniss has never had food like this before 😔😔😔

Neither has Peeta 🤧🤧

Katniss disliking the way Effie put the two kids from the year before down and so began to eat like a pig just to prove her point, is so her. And the beginning of her fighting for the underdog.

Omg the Rue introduction 🥺🥺🥺

Bahahahaha the commenters calling District Twelve backwards but charming 😅😅😅 they really are the hillbilly district

Peeta’s unexpected laugh 🥺🥺🥺 I love you, baby

“He was drunk. He’s drunk every year.” “Every day.” Katniss and Peeta are already finishing each other’s sentiments and teaming up to get on Effie’s nerves I love them so much 😍

Oh my God, Effie, you selfish jerk. They’re kids having fun for like one second, no need to throw in their faces they’re gonna die if the drunk won’t help them. I’d forgotten why I don’t really like the book version of her. I actually prefer her as comedic relief in the movies.

I actually just realized I really dislike Effie Trinket, I hope they never speak to her again Post-Mockingjay. Idc how you’re raised you don’t need to treat teenagers who are sentenced to a probable death badly just because they laughed at you 🙄🙄🙄😡😡😡😡. They didn’t even really laugh at her, she’s just annoying and awful, we don’t stan Effie in this household.

Okay, that’s all for my thoughts on chapter three! Until next time, y’all ! If anyone actually read this long mess of a post.

[swanqueeneverafter]

The Once & Future Queen Pt.11

Land Without Magic. Past. October 24th, 2011. 8:15 A.M. Phuket. (August is in bed with a girl, sound asleep. He suddenly wakes as if in pain, sits up and sees his leg turning into wood. He turns around.) August: (Speaking Thai to his bed-mate:) “Wake up. Wake up!” Isra: (Looks at the clock, then reluctantly at him:) “It's only 8:15, go back to bed...” August: (Pointing at his leg:) “Look at this. Right here. Isra, wake up! Help me!” Isra: (Gets up half way and looks at him:) “August, it's early. I'm sleeping.” August: (Reaching out and touching his knee:) “Look, don't you see it?” Isra: (Looking up:) “I see your leg! Now please, be quiet...” August: “I need to go to a hospital...” Isra: “What the hell is wrong with you?” August: (Speaking English:) “I'm turning into wood.” Storybrooke. Present. (Henry lays beneath the food truck covered in grease and engine oil.) Tiana: “Is there a person attached to those legs under there? (Henry slides out from under the truck:) Hmm. Writer boy. What the hell are you doing here?” Henry: “Operation Food Truck.” Tiana: “Am I supposed to know what that means?” Henry: “It means that as soon as I get the engine running, I'm gonna install the fryers, and then I'm gonna go in the back, and I'm gonna get the -” Tiana: “Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait. Does this newfound industriousness have anything to do with a certain date you have with Ella later. Cause you know, she’s feeling pretty nervous about it too.” Henry: “No. I just thought that you two might appreciate an actual working vehicle.”

Tiana: “Oh. Hey, shouldn’t you be getting ready for that date? What time is it anyway? (Henry ignores this and climbs into the truck. Switching on the engine, the truck roars to life. Tiana chuckles in surprise as Henry also turns on the lights. Smiling:) Huh. You actually fixed it.” Henry: (Switching off the engine, climbs down to join her:) “Well, your confidence in me is astounding, Tiana.” Ella: (Entering:) “Wow! This is fantastic. Now I get why you stood me up. You must’ve lost track of time while you were doing all this?” Henry: “Yeah, it's, uh, good as new. And I didn’t forget our date.” Ella: “Then why-” Henry: “Consider it a parting gift. (At Ella’s blank stare:) Will told me what happened between you two. In Wonderland?” Tiana: “Uh, say what now?” Henry: (Grimaces:) “Ah, sorry Tiana. I didn’t mean to break it to you like this.” Ella: “Henry what are you talking about?” Henry: (To Tiana:) “It appears that Will and Ella didn’t quite spend all their time searching for answers, but rather finding other ways to entertain themselves in each other’s arms. (Tosses the keys to Ella who catches them:) It's all yours.” (Henry walks away dejectedly while Ella looks to Tiana in disbelief.)

Granny's Diner. (A small group has gathered while the Red Queen stands frozen like an ice sculpture in the middle of the diner.) Regina: "I just don't understand it. Even when she was the Red Queen, Anastasia was never known to be violent." Xena: (Dryly:) "Must be beginners luck." Regina: "I'm serious. By all accounts, the people of Wonderland were more afraid of the Queen of Hearts than Anastasia." Gabrielle: "Who's the Queen of Hearts?" Regina: (Coughs, then mutters:) "My mother." David: (While playing with his granddaughter's foot:) "Well, prior instances of violence or not, Anastasia was in the midst of terrorising the town before Elsa stopped her.” Regina: (To Xena and Gabrielle:) "Do either of you know why Anastasia might have been targeting you?" Xena: (Shakes her head:) "I've never met her before." Gabrielle: "She kept referring to herself as the Red Queen. In between using her magic against us I mean." Regina: "Well clearly there's something going on. Need I remind you that this is Ella's step-sister we're talking about here? That makes her family." Ruby: (Scoffs:) "Like that's a big deal. Everyone's related around here. (At Regina's look:) What? They are." David: "Family member or not, I think the best thing to do right now is keep the Red Queen on ice. At least until we find some answers." Ruby: "Will she be safe staying frozen like that?" Regina: "Ana's not the first person to have been frozen solid around here. (Circling the frozen woman:) I left Marian like this in my vault for weeks."

(Sitting at the counter, Lily tries to reassure Elsa.) Elsa: "I just feel so guilty freezing her that way." Lily: "Don't. You saw how out of control she was. If you ask me, Anastasia's lucky you were here to turn her into a block of ice." Elsa: "Really?" Lily: "Yeah, absolutely. I mean if it were down to me, I'd have turned her into a pile of ashes. Your way is much less messy." (Elsa smiles, then steals a french fry from Lily's plate.) Storybrooke. Past. The Final Battle. Main Street. (The family rushes to Emma’s side as she lays, unmoving, on the ground.) Henry: (Crying:) “I love you.” (Henry leans down and kisses Emma’s forehead, causing a pulse of magic from True Love’s Kiss.) Emma: (Opening her eyes, softly:) “I love you, too. (They hug:) I love you, too!” (David helps Emma to her feet and the family share a group hug. Catching a glimpse of something in the corner of her eye, Snow White looks over and spots the storybook laying in the road.) Snow White: (Picking it up:) “Henry! I think this belongs to you.” Henry: (Taking the book and reading the last chapter:) "When Good and Evil both did the right thing, faith was restored. The final battle was won. (Closes the book:) That’s it.” A Short Distance Away. (Running up the street towards the Sorcerer’s door, Emma chances a glance behind her to see her family all gathered together before pulling the door open and dashing through it.)

The Sorcerer's Mansion. (Arriving back at the mansion, Emma finds the Apprentice waiting for her with another storybook.) Emma: "So you're telling me that I'm the reason the storybook appeared at that exact moment?" Apprentice: (Smiles:) "That moment, and others. Come, we've still much to do." Storybrooke. Present. Main Street. (Ella catches up to Henry.) Ella: “Henry! Wait. (She blocks his path:) I don’t know what Will told you, but it was a lie.” Henry: “Yeah? Well he sounded pretty convincing.” Ella: “You really think I’m capable of such a thing?” Henry: “Well I don’t know, Ella, you tell me. You were pretty gung-ho about accusing my mother based on somebody’s word. So what am I supposed to think?” Ella: “I don't have feelings for Will. How could I? I love you!” Henry: “And I love you! It’s just... I don’t know what to believe anymore! Things haven’t been right between us for a long time.” Ella: “I know, we’ve both been so busy, we’ve hardly had time to be together. That’s why I asked you to come with me to Wonderland in the first place.” Henry: (Nods:) “Yeah, and I should have been there. I was just so wrapped up in making enough money so we could get our own place that I lost sight of what was really important. You and me, side by side facing things together, head on.” Ella: “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Henry: (Pulling her in for a hug:) “I’m so sorry, about everything.” Ella: (Wrapping her arms around him:) “Me too.” Elsewhere In Storybrooke... (Staggering towards the library, Will tries the doors but they are locked.) Tiana: "Opening hours till 10:00." Will: (Bows his head:) "Very generous. (Turns to face her:) Tiana, I can explain." Tiana: "I didn't ask." (Tiana punches Will square in the face, causing him to fall back against the library doors and slide, unconscious, onto the ground.)

Blanchard Loft. Past. (Emma, Mary Margaret, David and Regina are looking for Henry’s storybook. David and Regina search the bedroom, Mary Margaret and Emma the closet. Regina opens one suitcase and looks inside searching for the book. It’s empty. David opens a chest. Shoe boxes are stored inside.) David: (Picks one shoe box and sets it aside:) “Why do women keep their shoe boxes?” Mary Margaret: (Overhearing the remark:) “Because after true love there is no more powerful magic than footwear. It has to be protected.” Emma: “Any sign of the book?” David: (Shuts the chest:) “No. I don’t think it’s here.” Mary Margaret: “You don’t know that.” Emma: (Carrying another wooden chest, she joins David and Regina:) “Maybe it’s in this thing. (Places the chest on the bed and opens it. Clothes are stored inside:) Some winter coats. Some scarves. The book is not in here.” (Emma sighs and lays back on the bed. At that moment, a pair of hands reach up from under the bed and covertly place the storybook inside the chest.) Mary Margaret: (Exiting the closet:) “Hang on. Let me check.” (After a short search, Mary Margaret is able to find the storybook.) Emma: (Confused, sits up:) “I don’t understand.” (As all eyes turn to the book, Emma scurries out from under the bed and crawls quickly out of the room on all fours towards the door in the next room.) Regina: “Can I see that? (Mary Margaret gives the book to Regina:) I know there are chapters on Oz in here. I wanna know who’s heart Zelena crushed to enact this curse. Because if there’s something she loved, that’s her weakness. (Regina exits the room. David follows her. When they enter the living room, Regina catches a glimpse of something in the corner:) Did you see that?” David: “See what?” Regina: “I’m sure I saw something. (Shaking her head, she returns her attention to the storybook:) Never mind.”

Land Without Magic. Past, October 2011. Hong Kong. (August sits in a hospital in Hong Kong, waiting for his leg to be examined.) Orderly: “August W. Booth?” Exam Room. Doctor: (August shows his leg to the doctor. To the doctor's eyes his leg looks perfectly normal:) “I don't see anything.” August: “My leg is turning into wood.” Doctor: “I think you should go.” August: “Wait, wait. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. I'll prove it to you.” (August puts his leg up on the table and stabs his leg with a scalpel.) Doctor: “No! Stop! Aah! (Speaking Cantonese:) Orderlies! Restrain him! Take him to psych! (The orderlies chase August through the hospital:) Wait! Get back here! Hey! Get back!” (Seemingly with no place left to run, August is grabbed from behind and taken into the stairwell. August spins around ready to fight then sees a woman standing before him.) August: “Who are you?” Mulan: “Someone who can help. I heard you yelling about your situation. And I work with a man who fixes those kinds of problems.” August: “What kind of problems?” Mulan: “The kind most people just dismiss. For the right price, he can cure anything.” August: “Who is he?” Mulan: “They call him the Dragon.”

[mai-stories]

The Florist and The Mercenary - Chapter Five: A Break from the Rain

Lily had been washed back towards the trees, downed by the miniature flood. When he came over to help her up, that would be a problem. Due to the amount of water that had soaked through her clothing, her involuntary magic activated, her boots and stockings pushed off as her legs changed into a thick, glimmering tail. Aquamarine scales lined the fish tail, a light blue fluke curling idly as she struggled to gather her footwear back into her grasp. Her eyes came up to meet Irvine's one, an embarrassed blush washing over her pale cheeks. "I.. Can't get up." She admitted, brushing damp locks from her face.

Using her magic to dry off was pointless, as the rain had yet to cease. The only option would be to get that tarp up and dry off slowly. Lily's bodyguard stood over her, one eyebrow quirked up rightfully so when faced with this new development. So it was true, she was definitely a mermaid Considering that they had just met a few hours prior, she was a meek thing and merfolk fetched notoriously high prices at the black market for their scales and tails and tears, and slave trade typically for their natural beauty... He could understand her worries. Irvine reached out and petted her head gently.

"No worries." He told the mermaid girl.

There was an automatic flinch when he reached out to touch her, though she relaxed when he told her not to worry. He lifted her, as dragging her undercover, especially her tail, seemed rude and probably painful. Despite her looks, Lily was surprisingly heavy with that thick tail of hers, so she hoped he wouldn't be taken off guard by that, as well. She hung on when he picked her up, pale fingers curling into the cloth as if she'd slip right out of his hold. He set Lily down, moving to realign the pitons to anchor the tarp over their heads once more, with a little tilt to it to allow water to run off. They now had reprieve from the downpour and could dry out. While he had readjusted the tarp, she took to slowly ringing out her hair and clothing, taking off her apron and ringing that out, too. He went to collect Lily's boots and stockings for her as well. With some extra rope, he made a clothesline to hang up said stockings as well as his soaked jacket. He shrugged off his boots and let a bit of water dribble out. Lily handed him the garment to hang up, looking over at him when they had finished hanging up clothing.

"Despite this, I still love the rain.." He said offhandedly, looking out of the grassland under the rain.

"I do, too. Even when I was confined to staying inside, I liked to watch the rain fall." She said in agreement, pulling her skirt up to about hip level to allow her tail to dry out. It would take a while, however, as she had no towel to dry with, and using her magic to dry would do more damage than good. "There's something soothing about the sound of rain, and the smell afterwards. It's calming." She murmured, curling up and hugging her tail close like anyone would their knees.

"Agreed.." And he took a moment to enjoy it. The constant heavy patter of rain mixed with the water filtering through the treetops didn't bother him in the slightest. He simply reclined against the opposite tree and brought out a cigarette just to hang lazily between his lips. "Never seen a real mermaid, didn't think you actually were one to begin with. Some milquetoast house girl who spent her days inside more than out, yeah, but not a mermaid.." He eyed his charge up and down, lone eye lingering on her tail. "Just thought you were imitating the race for fashion.. I can see why you don't get out to meet people.. The vast majority of us are jerks." He said, taking a long drag before blowing away from the tarp.

Lily looked over at him, noticing his gaze. It made her only slightly uncomfortable, as she wasn't used to exposing her tail to others, so she shifted a bit where she sat.

"Wouldn't make much sense for a gardener to stay inside all day, would it?" She said with a slight smile, the scales drying off in due time.

As it did, the scales started to glow every so gently, beginning to fade and evaporate away from her toes up. The fluke faded into nothing, her toes and ankles slowly reappearing, then her shins and knees. More and more scales disappeared, the girl covering up her legs with her skirt. There would be no need for him to see her blindingly pale skin, as it would only embarrass her further. Still, despite having legs again, she had to wait for the bones and muscles to realign and settle before she could stand, otherwise she'd break or tear something as soon as she tried.

"You're not really that bad.. Better than others, I'd say." She told him, pulling a small comb from her skirt pocket to brush her hair. He had shown some of his colors, but she had yet to see if they were true or not. Unlike herself, Irvine didn't seem to wear his hear on his sleeve. "Could we build a small fire? Something to keep warm?" Lily asked, looking around for some sticks to dry and make a campfire, wanting to warm up while the rain was still coming down.

Without a word, Irvine leaned in and began to dig a hole in slightly sodden earth. Their spot had not been long for the soggy weather to soak in deep, so he dug until he had reached a dry point and made a small pit. He took the relatively dry bark and created something of a nest, then brought out a red crystal. The crystal's lighter center glowed and danced like an encapsulated flame, the edges warm to the touch. The mermaid tilted her head when he brought out the crystal, eyes captured by the dancing flame. Fire was another thing she enjoyed, in moderation, as the small flames were warm and comforting.

"Ever seen a condensed bit of mana? Mainly forms in an elemental way or its pure magic energy. I like to carry a few around. Small ones are pretty cheap since this stuff can be found in the wild if you look hard enough." Irvine explained as he let it fall into the pit, the stone starting to glow. It immediately ignited and created a cozy flame that swallowed up the bark, remaining bright and lively. Hearing this, she wondered if water crystals existed, her hand reaching up idly to touch around her neck. Was that something like her heirloom? "Good for a few hours. Only water magic can put it before then," Irvine told her. "It's gonna burn, burn off all of that magic energy.. I'ts so packed with the stuff that natural water takes longer than most to put it out. You know, throw a fire or lightning crystal hard enough and it explodes," The lightning mage said with a smirk. It was quite the morose fun fact, which may explain why Irvine knew such a thing in the first place.

Lily, however, was so lost in thought, spaced out until she heard him mention exploding crystals.

"That sounds.. really bad if you fall on one hard enough." She told him, looking a little uneasy at the thought of exploding crystals and the shrapnel that would produce. "Do you want something to eat? We can roast some of the meat, if you're hungry." She asked, scooting over to open up her recently bought bag. She dug around to get some bread and a little bit of that cheese, only a small amount to eat so there would be more later. She also got out some of the dried meats, as he seemed like a carnivorous guy.

"I'd uh... like that.." Irvine seemed... uncomfortable now. It might have been a stray drop of water coming down his brow from what had soaked his head, or perhaps a bead of sweat as the usual straight-faced bodyguard brought out a small satchel and stared at it for a moment before gently, very gently, setting it off to the side. Odd how he had never considered that before, not that he was ever knocked on his ass to ever run that risk... but it made him sweat. That movement didn't go unnoticed by the mermaid, a slight smile on her face as he seemed newly wary of the crystals. It was a bit amusing, to say the least. "I'll take some of that meat. Pass me some fruit, too.." A little fireside meal with some chat might be nice. Pleasant, at least... Hopefully. Maybe.

The two of them were quite the contrasting pair. As long as his charge trusted his judgement and his words when it counted. Lily passed him some of the meat and a few pieces of fruit, passing that as well before beginning to make her own meal. A little bit of melted cheese on bread made for a nice snack, she found, and would really warm her up in no time. Irvine had used a stray stick to impale his bit of meat to cook over their open magic fire while peeling the rind from his orange. Meat and fruit, better than most meals that crap hole pub served up to him as half-assed payment for keeping the drunks at bay. He offered a couple wedges to Lily. The mermaid reached out and took the orange wedges, popping those in after eating her own food. The salty taste of the cheese and nearly sour citrus made for a strange yet exciting flavor in her mouth.

"I wish I had bought some tea... Tea goes so nicely with rainy weather." She lamented with a sigh, tying her bandanna back behind her ears to get her hair out of her face. The full force of the storm seemed to have waned, the rain ceasing only slightly in severity.

"You wouldn't guess it by the look of her store, but Zara, the woman who ran the apothecary, sells some great tea. Lots of flavor.. Kind of a gamble whether you get hallucinogens or not, though." It was a note worth sharing, Irvine however murmured under his breath to avoid scaring Lily. She seemed the easily startled type.

He gained her attention by speaking about the kinds of tea that strange old lady sold, and that he guessed right that she would've been startled by that. Being in her right state of mind was definitely preferred.

"It's a little after noon, so when the rain let's up, we could probably keep moving. Do you have that map?" She asked, unsure if he had kept it with him or put it in the bag. Regardless of his answer, she'd look in the bag anyway.

"Map.. map..." With no room to roll it out and Lily still grounded for the moment, he sidled over to sit next to his charge to unfurl the map across their legs.

She did little to no protesting, as it was necessary for them to look over the map. Road markers connected every town, mountain ranges lay to the far west and north, thick forests scattered about, but little in between. Lily looked it over, recognizing where her own home was, though it wouldn't be home after so long. Hollifern was her new home, a place where she could be safe and with her own kind.

"Woodmoore is over here.." The mermaid could not gave been further from any ocean water, though Woodmoore did have its small lake to the east outside of town. "We left from the south and have been following the road. Not terribly far, though.. If we continue then we're going yo see Bardale off to the side.." He rubbed his chin. "Hm.. We'll stop there. See if we can't by coats for the rain or umbrellas. If we have to stop whenever a strong rain pops up, you'll be broke before long." Irvine said. An umbrella sounded useful, or even some sort of waterproof cloak to keep most of Lily's hair under wraps with a hood.

She had spaced out once again, daydreaming now about all kinds of magically waterproofed items they could find in order to keep any accidents from happening. Irvine rubbed his chin again, mulling over a couple things. His lone eye drifted to his partner, his charge, as she seemed to drift away into her own happy thoughts. When the time came that she ran out of funds.. Just what the Hell was he going to do?! No doubt the girl was worried about that herself, what could a gardener selling flowers really make? His hand migrated to the back of his head and rubbed it, the bodyguard heaving a soft sigh and deciding to deal with that when it was necessary. This girl would be eaten alive! A yipping puppy might just scare her out of her skin if she wasn't paying attention! He looked out in to the rain and it had lightened up some. Probably not enough to keep the fish tail issue under wraps, but soon enough.

"Oi," And he gave Lily's temple a poke to get her attention if his voice wasn't enough. "How much gold do you have on you?"

Lily was shaken out of her thoughts by the poke, having tuned the world out, not listening until he made that little bit of contact. She looked up at him, head tilted as he asked her about her funds. She pulled out her wallet out, pouring the contents into her lap and letting her skirt catch the coins. She counted it out: eight gold, two silver, and seven copper.

"This is all I have." She said quietly, eyes drawn back up towards his face, an unsure look crossing her own. Did he not have his own money? Was that why he asked her to pay for all their supplies? She only hoped he wouldn't extort her for more by upping the price now that he knew her secret. "Will this be enough to get to Hollifern? I don't have anymore flowers to sell, so I can't make anymore money. All of my savings went to traveling to Woodmore, even my rent." She said, looking down at the money in her lap, gathering it back up to put into the wallet.

"Depends on how many days it takes us." Irvine shrugged his shoulders, giving his charge the simplest and most factual answer he could.

The rainy season could be rough, thunderstorms and monsoons aplenty sure to assail the land in time and soak their particular part of the country to the core. Given Lily's race and the side effects of her getting too wet, well, her tail suddenly appearing could be a hindrance. Slavers on her fish tail wanting her for their auctions, even worse. He gave her damp head a couple pats and reclined against her tree.

"Don't worry about it. You'll get to Hollifern. Plenty of towns have jobs open if you're ever in need of cash." He said, relaxing now that the danger was gone and he had a snack.

So long as Lily had her magic, rain wouldn't be too much of a problem. Buying some sort of waterproof cloak or raincoat would help keep her dry, and her boots would keep water off her feet for a good while. The idea of doing oddjobs along the way did give her a bit of hope, however. Her skills were meager and common, so she could do just about any job that required cleaning or cooking. She'd even help out with gardens and stocking stores if she had to! She had rested long enough for her legs to stabilize, using a bit of magic to withdraw water from her hair and clothing, refilling her water pouch with it. She reached over and grabbed her stockings and boots, looking over at him for a moment. They were the type that went all the way up to her waist, so putting them on in front of him would be a little embarrassing.

"Could you.. turn that way, please?" She asked meekly, still holding the barely damp hosiery and her boots.

Irvine heaved another soft sigh and sidled off to the side. He turned his back to Lily while sitting just under the edge of the tarp.

"Make it quick." He told his charge as he turned his gaze to the sky.

She took that precious moment of privacy to pull her stockings on, glad there was no resistance and that the rain didn't damage the thin fabric. She laced her boots up before patting her skirt down, making sure it was dry enough before slipping her apron on, tying it into a neat bow behind her back. The clouds were starting to thin out, and rain lightened up to a gentle sprinkle. It likely would not last, but the issue before had been the flood brought on by that... thing. Oh, right. Those monsters.

"Ever seen creatures like that before?" Irvine asked, knowing it was a definite gamble to ask, but he had doubted her before.

"Those monsters? No, not really.. They sounded familiar, though, like something out of a nightmare." She answered, making sure the bag was tightened, secured so none of their food or supplies jostled out. With everything checked, she tapped his shoulder to let him know she was done, though it was gentle and light, as if just touching him would shock her. He turned and nodded.

"Figured I would ask. I've never seen anything like that either.." Irvine couldn't help but shake his head thinking about those monsters. "As far as I know.. There is no natural born creature, with magic abilities or not, capable of doing... all of that." He just gestured a bit, the image of those creatures evolving at such a rapid rate to defend against the damage they take was... Interesting. Her bodyguard ultimately shrugged his shoulders. "I don't even know of a magic that can summon like that. There wasn't anyone nearby... My opinion doesn't matter. I dunno why I'm thinking on it so much... but those creatures, I think they were made of mana. Pure magic energy. ... That's as far as my educated guessing goes," He said as he lit his a new cigarette.

"Whatever they were... I'm sure they weren't the only ones." Lily murmured, lifting up the bag, the straps snagging her hair again. She gave an annoyed sigh, dropping the bag down on a rock before reaching up and braiding her hair into a thick braid down her back, keeping it all in one place to prevent the straps from pinching and pulling at it. The bag was not that much heavier than she had originally thought, so carrying it wasn't a problem. "Pure magic? Hm.." She murmured, thinking back on it. It seemed that the more magic he used, the bigger those things got. They absorbed the magic, but it seemed not all magic was a good combination. The lightning completely tore through their water based bodies, and water could remove the mud quite easily. A cycle of the elements, it seemed. "If it helps, I could use the tarp as a wrap to keep dry." She suggested, looking over at their cover. Sure, she'd look like some kind of ragamuffin homeless girl wrapped up like that, but at least she'd stay dry. Irvine nodded in agreement.

"Better than nothing. Wouldn't want that fishtail popping out out of nowhere," He told his charge. He really did not want to deal with hunters and slavers.Gradually, the rain lightened to a degree that should have been safe for Lily. Luckily, he was down to his last drag and he snuffed out the cigarette butt with a quick, firm stamp of his boot. "I'll throw it over you if need be. Let's get a move on.." He got out under the misty rainfall and tore down the tarp quickly, folding it up and keeping it under his arm for quick access. He took the bag as well. It wasn't heavy, but he didn't want to burden Lily. "We've got another mile... mile and a half, before Bardale. We can definitely make it before night." He said, looking down at her.

Lily looked up in return when he had taken the bag from her, not complaining as it made her walk easier. Puddles from the rain had formed in the pock-marked road, the mermaid couldn't resist stepping in a few, playfully splashing like her kind was meant to do. Her boots were water resistant, all the way up to her knees so there was no threat of water getting to her feet. It was a little fun, and definitely took away the thoughts of danger and hostility that the world had no control over. With the rain nearly gone, the sun would come out to shine, a faded rainbow across the northern sky. Lily hardly glanced up when rays of sunshine came out, a smile on her lips as she happily tapped Irvine's arm and pointed up at the sky. When she was relaxed, it seemed her childish nature came to the surface, the mermaid coming out of her shell now that she felt safe with him. Irvine's gaze followed her eager finger and he eyed the arc of light, and he nodded. Quite the sight, but that was of little interest to him compared to the the little mermaid that had been so meek before. She skipped and hopped into the light puddles, splashed him a bit, but it wasn't like that was of any consequence to him. It was actually pleasant, a breath of fresh air, to see his charge actually having some fun. The child-like wonderment came as no surprise to him. Hell, he gave his cute charge a couple pats on her head she was so cute. Would he admit that? Hell. No. Lily happily accepted the head-patting, as it gave her a sense of security. There was no flinch or even a recoil, the mermaid's trust now in his hands. It was clear to her now he had no intentions of harming her, so her guard was completely down. A couple field mice scuttled out of their muddy homes, as wild as wild rabbits whose fur was dark and matted, sticking up in stray directions. They hopped about in the sunlight, bouncing across their path. One took a sharp turn bounced around Lily even, but it went on its way as well. The quick movement of small woodland creatures caught her attention, making her stand absolutely still. Not in fear, but to keep from scaring the animals. It wouldn't be right for them to scare the little things back into still flooded grass, so she would prefer not to spook them. It still brought a smile to her face to see them bound across the path, and once they were safely out of the way did she continue walking. With abundant sunlight and cleared up weather, the walk to Bardale would be much more relaxed. The rainy season brought its fair share of strife, but there was no denying the change brought on after rain. Something was washed away for a new moment, the air cool and fresh. It was definitely his second favorite time, after a nice rainstorm itself.