american boy

“I don’t work with Americans often,” Rita started, folding her hands in front of her. “But your sister was quite upset with what I published and I don’t need to deal with her and you.” Looking at him, she raised a brow. “So, if this is you swearing that you won’t come after me or my stories, I think we’re all set.”

Savannah was upset? He didn’t even know what she’d posted to begin with, but now he was curious. His eyebrows pulled together in concern. “Savannah? What are you writin’ about her?”

Savannah Wilkinson knew her brother had a temper and she could see that she’d just about pushed him too far. Good. That usually meant she was getting her way, and this was one instance where she absolutely would not rest until she got it. Beau would never thank her for this, but that was just fine with her. He would be safe, and that was all that mattered. If he wanted to whine and cry and stomp his foot, she would let him no matter how ridiculous he looked doing so. Part of her might have felt a bit embarrassed at the fact he was willing to pitch a fit in front of the entire school, but perhaps that would be to her advantage as well. Edgar Bones would hardly want Beau tagging along when he couldn’t manage to keep his composure. Savannah Wilkinson was so certain she’d outmatched her brother yet again, she had to fight the smug smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. At least, until she wasn’t winning anymore.

Beau had called her bluff. The threat of writing their parents had only been good so long as it was exactly what he didn’t want her to do. Had he been so determined to join Edgar Bones and the rest of those students asking for trouble, Savannah would have been able to stop him easily enough. She’d pinned her strategy on the assumption that he was determined, that he didn’t want something else more, and she’d played the wrong hand. There would be no reasoning with Beau now, at least, not out of this. Savannah listened in silence for a moment, her mind racing as if she’d sat down to a chess match, weighing her options and how she might salvage the situation. She might not have the upper hand anymore, but she was far from losing to her brother.

“Oh I’m writing to mama and daddy.” She said through her teeth, glaring back at him. “And I’ll thank you for being my ticket home.” Savannah shot back with a matching icy smile, folding her arms tightly in front of her. “The only difference between us is I’m not stupid enough to go home grounded for the rest of the summer like I’m sure you will be. So go ahead, Beau. Do what you want, then. I don’t mind one way or another.” A lie, but either way Savannah got what she wanted. Whether Beau stayed away of his own accord, or their parents dragged him home kicking and screaming, he wouldn’t be fighting alongside Edgar Bones.

Beau laughed. “Well then consider yourself welcome.” Did she really think that he cared whether or not he was grounded for the rest of the summer? If it meant that he didn’t have to return to England than it was definitely a risk that he was willing to take. Only one of them had ever been scared of being grounded, and it had certainly never been Beau. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants. He wanted to yell at her some more, tell her how much he hated her right now. But... he glanced around. People were starting to look in their direction, and ever afraid of being the center of attention, Beau wanted to get away. 

“You don’t seem like someone who doesn’t mind.” He snapped. “But if you say so.” He sneered, taking a step back. “Then fine, I will.” And with that, Beau was finished with this argument. He glared at her one more time, before spinning on his heels and stalking away.

beau:

The back of his neck and the tips of his ears were red, caused by an angry mix of embarrassment and shame. He doubted that she intended to make him feel this way, but being reminded of how awful her parents were when he was trying to complain about his own left him feeling all sorts of wrong. He didn’t say anything, focusing on the tense sound of her voice as he continued to glare into his hands. The heat burning his skin cooled as she began talking again, and he looked up at her finally, though she was looking at his touch on her arm. 

Beau didn’t want to admit it, but she wasn’t very much help. He just wanted to be angry, and to complain, and to toss all of his upset emotions out into the air so they wouldn’t run wild in his brain. He didn’t want to hear how immature he was being, or how lucky he was to have a family like his. Of course, Liliane hadn’t said all of that in so many words, but that was what he took away from their entire interaction. He felt the urge to escape, whereto, he didn’t know. He pulled his arm away, resting his hands awkwardly in his lap. “It’s fine.” He murmured, not wanting her to feel bad for not being able to soothe his anger. “It’s not your problem to worry about, darlin’.” It was his problem, and his alone. He sighed, gently scooting away from her. “I’m, er, goin’ to go and use the bathroom.” He wasn’t, but it was a convenient way to escape. “Thanks for listenin’.”

Something twisted in her stomach as he pulled his arm free, but she didn’t protest. She didn’t look at him either though, dropping her gaze to her own hands before looking out over the Great Hall and avoiding his eyes. She wanted it to be her problem - or their problem, something they could discuss together without getting into an argument but clearly that wasn’t the case, and she’d be better off if she just let go of her feelings. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help,” she said after a moment, finally turning to him for a quick look. “I’m happy to listen though.”

But she couldn’t stand the thought of just watching him walk away and turned away from him, reaching for one of the books she’d been lucky enough to have on her as they were shepherded into the Great Hall. 

Savannah wasn’t surprised when Beau shrugged her away, but it still hurt when he did so. Why couldn’t he see that she only wanted to keep him safe? Her baby brother always had been reckless, letting his heart run wild without a thought to steer it in the right direction. Savannah could see it in his eyes now, the passion driving his decision making down a dangerous path, one that was likely to get him in terrible trouble. Beau sounded like a petulant child, and Savannah was certain he was one. Well, even petulant children could be dealt with. “I don’t know everything.” Savannah agreed with him, pushing herself off of her cot and standing toe to toe with him, feeling some satisfaction at the fact she was still taller than him, if only slightly.

“But I do know you, Beauregard Wilkinson, and I’ll be damned if I let you walk headlong into a war like this.” Her voice was still low but sharp in a way it only turned when she demanded to be heard. Beau wasn’t listening to her. If he were listening, he would understand, he would agree. “You don’t like me telling you what to do, fine, but if you join up with Edgar Bones and his little club you won’t be hearing from me. Cross my heart, I swear I’ll write Mama and Daddy and you can hear from them instead.” It was a threat as old as their relationship, but effective nonetheless. Beau might not care what she thought, heck, he might not even care about what their parents thought, but Ruby and Sawyer Wilkinson had much more power over Beau’s actions than she did. Savannah had no doubts it would take little convincing to get them to finally bring their children home if they knew the danger Beau might be stepping into. “I’m serious, Beau, stay away from them.” 

Beau felt like a boiling pot of water, and Savannah standing up toe to toe him was just the right catalyst to send his anger over the edge. God, he hated her so much. In frustration he grabbed at the hair on the side of his head. “No!” He exclaimed, cutting her off. “No, you don’t know me! And you thinkin’ that you do is part of the problem!” He wouldn’t have been surprised if steam had started billowing out from his ears right then. How dare she claim to know him? If she did, she would understand, and he wouldn’t need to explain this to her. And even more so, how dare she threaten to write to their parents? For a second, he was ready to scream at her, but then he suddenly laughed.

He pointed a finger at her, eyes flashing angrily. “Go ahead, I dare you to write mom and dad.” He smiled icily, “What are they goin’ to do? Bring me back home?” Honestly, Savannah had just given him an excellent idea. He could face the punishment that came from this, so long as he faced it in America. “If I want to join up with Edgar Bones and his little club---” God, he hated when she got all condescending. It was annoying, and he wanted to yell at her and tell her just how much he hated it. “---then I’m goin’ to do it. And there’s nothing you can do about it, Savannah.”

He shook his head and crossed his arms over the front of his chest. “Get it through your head already.” He was quiet for a moment, before looking up at her again. “And start mindin’ your own business, for once!”

“No, Beau.” Flo rolled her eyes. Sometimes she felt as if she was the only person in the whole school with a semblance of intelligence. “Color-ado, like, color me happy – ‘ah do!” Flo shook her head, laughing lightly. It was so simple, but she supposed it may come across confusing to others. She patted Beau’s arm and finally returned to twiddling her wand between her fingers. 

“I love Transfiguration,” Flo said, absentmindedly. “I mean, I love watching others transfigurate.” She turned to face Beau. “Let’s gossip. How is your beau, Beau?”

Beau didn’t like watching other transfigurate, mostly because it reminded him that he wasn’t very good at it. It probably wasn’t a good idea to get chatty with Flo. Once they started, they had a hard time stopping and returning to work. But he didn’t know where to go from here and he didn’t want to ask Professor McGonagall, because her lips thinned when he asked stupid questions, and it made him feel dumb. He supposed gossiping was better than that, so with resignation lining his face, he turned to Flo, cheek resting on his fist. 

“My beau?” He asked confused. A moment later, he realized what she meant. “Oh? You mean Liliane? Well, she’s good. Did I tell you that I asked her to be my girlfriend? I can’t remember if I did or not.”

Savannah and Beau had been in enough arguments with one another for Savannah to see that this conversation was quickly spiraling into one. She could practically see his anger in his body language and the way his jaw clenched tight. Savannah was not afraid of an argument, and certainly would not back down on something as important as this. If Beau wanted to argue her, she would hold her ground. And though her stomach tied itself in knots over the thought of alienating her brother while they were so far away from home, Savannah was quick to disagree. “I’m not trying to be insensitive, Beau. I understand you’ve experienced losses this year. And thank Heaven that all of us made it out of Hogsmeade that day, but us being in danger doesn’t make this our fight.”

Beau had always taken things so personally, but doing so now could very well cost him his life. His words stung Savannah, but she refused to let him walk away so easily, her hand reaching to rest on his shoulder as if to stop him from leaving. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to help.” She conceded, her voice softening. “You have a good heart, Beau, and of course I understand. I don’t much like what’s going on here myself, but there are better ways to get involved than to fight.” Afraid he would walk away before she could make her point, Savannah shifted closer and quickly continued in a hushed tone. “The semester will be over soon and once we’re home we can lobby MACUSA to take action. We can raise awareness for the political turmoil here, get public opinion on our side and then it will be easy to convince Congress to send aid. Josiah Jackson! We could even start a non-profit if you really want to get involved at the grassroots level here.” Savannah knew that she would be losing Beau with all of the talk of politics and quickly shifted tactics to win him to her side. “There’s so much we can do to help, Beau. But we can’t fight chaos with chaos. Please. Just consider that there are so many ways to make a difference.”

Savannah’s voice softened, but it did little to calm Beau down. He angrily shrugged her hand off of his shoulder, sending a scathing look in her direction. He didn’t say it out loud, but the don’t touch me! was practically screamed by the look he gave her. He found himself growing more and more angry. Would she ever stop treating him like some helpless, defenseless baby? Beau found no comfort in her gentle words. They were condescending, and he had heard enough of that from her. Big sister Savannah, always telling him that she knew better, that he what he thought wasn’t true. Who was she to tell him that he couldn’t have a hand in this fight? This war had hurt Liliane, and it had hurt their mother, and he wasn’t some silly little boy anymore!

Beau clenched his hands into tight fists against his side, eyes flashing angrily. “I know there are different ways, Savannah!” Against his better judgement, his voice rose. “But those aren’t my ways!” When had he ever been a person who could lobby MACUSA? Starting a non-profit? Those weren’t even real solutions! He exhaled angrily through his nose, looking away from her. “You don’t know everything.” There was barely hidden resentment burning behind his voice. He pushed himself up from his seated position. Everyone kept trying to force him into things he didn’t want. His mother, his father, and his sister too. Beau glared down at her, “And you definitely don’t know me.” He shook his head, preparing to make his departure. “So just-- just stop telling me what to do. I don’t want to hear it.”

Her lips pursed but she tried not to take his words personally. Tensions were high all around here and she knew - well, hoped that he wasn’t upset with her. Which wouldn’t make sense, and given the conversation was about his family, it wasn’t logical either. So he wasn’t angry at her and as much as she didn’t like having that tone directed at her, she knew it didn’t mean anything. She took a deep breath, wondering how it was possible that he didn’t understand what it meant that his parents were so concerned with his safety that they went to such efforts. “My mother wrote me a letter reminding me to associate with the best kind of society and that I didn’t need to worry about my safety,” she said, a little stiffly. “I think perhaps you could try to be a little more understanding.”

But she couldn’t hold on to her frustration with him, not when he was so upset. Though he wasn’t looking directly at her, she couldn’t look away from him. “I’m usually right,” she said softly, dropping her gaze to his hand, resting on her arm. “I don’t have any experience with siblings but I’m sure it’s very difficult to deal with her at times. But it won’t always be.” She hesitated and although she didn’t think it would make a difference, she shifted a little to take his hand in hers. “I’m happy to listen to you but I’m afraid I’m not very much help right now.”

The back of his neck and the tips of his ears were red, caused by an angry mix of embarrassment and shame. He doubted that she intended to make him feel this way, but being reminded of how awful her parents were when he was trying to complain about his own left him feeling all sorts of wrong. He didn’t say anything, focusing on the tense sound of her voice as he continued to glare into his hands. The heat burning his skin cooled as she began talking again, and he looked up at her finally, though she was looking at his touch on her arm. 

Beau didn’t want to admit it, but she wasn’t very much help. He just wanted to be angry, and to complain, and to toss all of his upset emotions out into the air so they wouldn’t run wild in his brain. He didn’t want to hear how immature he was being, or how lucky he was to have a family like his. Of course, Liliane hadn’t said all of that in so many words, but that was what he took away from their entire interaction. He felt the urge to escape, whereto, he didn’t know. He pulled his arm away, resting his hands awkwardly in his lap. “It’s fine.” He murmured, not wanting her to feel bad for not being able to soothe his anger. “It’s not your problem to worry about, darlin’.” It was his problem, and his alone. He sighed, gently scooting away from her. “I’m, er, goin’ to go and use the bathroom.” He wasn’t, but it was a convenient way to escape. “Thanks for listenin’.”

She wasn’t sure why he hadn’t put the pants on - maybe she should have offered to turn around so he could do that. But he started talking before the thought could materialize and she didn’t want to interrupt the flow of his thoughts. It was silly, really, when she knew how this conversation would go and she very much did not want to participate in it. Maybe it would be better once it was over though, and she could just move on with her life. She kept her face as neutral as possible, resisting the urge to reach up and cover the scar. Having people look at her was so much harder now. 

The conversation took an unexpected twist though, leaving her feeling a little off-balance as Beau began complimenting her. That didn’t seem to be the way a conversation about breaking up - if they could call it that - would start. She should stop him but she couldn’t; she found herself with hope building up again. But she couldn’t quite believe it either, after how odd he had acted and the way she had so convinced herself that he was disgusted with her, or at the very least wasn’t interested in dating her. “You want - to date me? Still? After -” She stopped, this time unable to keep from reaching for her face. “I mean - yes, I want to - I want you to be my boyfriend. I just didn’t …”

Beau had never been very good at focusing on multiple things at one time, and in that moment, he was struggling profusely to keep up with everything happening all around him. For one, he still wasn’t wearing any pants. They were still hanging loosely from Liliane’s hand, leaving him naked in front of her, vulnerable in more ways than one. That was the least of his worries. Beau had a very specific brand of shyness, and nudity was not one of them. He inhaled a sharp breath, his head swimming. There was the nakedness, yes, but there was also the words coming out of her. What did she mean still? Of course he did! His face softened, and his head tilted to the side as he looked at her gently. Her fingers were rising, brushing against the scar on her face that he hardly even noticed most days. Was this the reason? Did she forget the moment he saw it for the very first time? How intensely he had kissed her, only happy that she was okay and alright.

Beau’s mouth opened, and then closed. His jaw tightened as he tried to calm the unintelligible mess that his thoughts had dissolved into. Yes, he was naked. Yes, Liliane thought her scar had any part in his feelings for her. And yes, she wanted to be his girlfriend. It was that single conclusion that filled him with a sense of clarity like no other. Despite the serious nature of their conversation, his face broke out into a wide grin. “You do?” He said, almost breathlessly. A weight lifted from his chest, and before he could stop himself, an explosion of thoughts and feelings began to tumble from his mouth like water over a fall. “You think too much.” He said, stepping closer again. “And I think too little.” He figured he ought to acknowledge that, since they were only here because of his inability to think outside of the box. “But we-- we both like each other, right?” His heart was hammering hard in his chest. “I like everything about you, Liliane.” His voice softened, coming out low and warm. “We don’t need to keep hiding from each other anymore.”

Flo’s arms were sprawled out over her desk, her cheek resting on her Transfiguration textbook. She’d been reading the same sentence over and over again, and had decided to take a break. With her face towards Beau, she blinked as he asked about their task. “Uh,” Flo began, finally lifting her head. She reached out for her wand and picked it up, bringing it over to Beau’s forehead.

With the tip of her wand on his right eyebrow, Flo closed her eyes, trying to recall the spell that would turn Beau’s eyebrows bright pink. “Color-ado?” 

Beau blinked. “Color-ado? Do you mean Colorado? But that’s a state.” He was confused. Why was she bringing up states? McGonagall hadn’t said anything about states, right? He looked around at the students around them. Nobody seemed to be saying anything about Colorado, to his relief. Looking back to Flo, Beau shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s the right thing to say.” One of the reasons that Beau liked to spend time with Flo was that he always walked away from their interactions feeling a little better about his own intelligence. 

“Not that I know that the right spell is.” He grumbled, looking around again. All of the students around them seemed to be under various degrees of confusion, but they all at least looked like they sort of knew what they were doing. He sighed, slumping forward against the desk. “This is terrible. I hate Transfiguration.”

There were many different ways to bond with a person, but hiding in a cauldron under threat of death in a bloody attack was certainly efficient with it. Ever since January 4th, Beau had found himself a pleasant friend in Flo. He related to her in a lot of ways. Mostly, it was because he got the feeling that they were on equal footing when it came to not knowing what was going on. They had taken to sitting by each other in Transfiguration, which definitely allowed for their friendship to blossom, but did not have the same effect on their grades. 

They had begun learning about human transfiguration, and after a week of learning theory, Professor McGonagall had deemed them ready to begin the practical lessons. Thus, Beau and Flo were tasked with changing the color of their eyebrows. Beau hunched over his textbook, and then glanced to his left at Flo. “Wait, am I supposed to be changin’ my own eyebrows? Or am I supposed to be changin’ yours?”

Savannah’s heart sank as she watched the smile fade from her brother’s face, knowing that it was all her fault. Why did she always have to be the bad guy? Ever since they were little, Savannah had taken her role as big sister seriously by watching out for her brother and making sure he behaved himself. He’d always resented her for it, even though it was for his own good. When would he understand that she was just trying to protect him, as any good sister would? Savannah reached a hand out, resting it lightly on Beau’s shoulder and doing her best to convey how serious the situation was as kindly as she could in order to save his feelings. “Beau, I’m- I’m not sayin’ you can’t be friends with Edgar or the rest of them.” She assured him quickly. “I just don’t think you should get involved in their- their club.”

On second thought, Savannah withdrew her hand from her brother’s shoulder and returned it to her lap where she promptly wrung her hands together. It was a habit her Mama was always telling her she should break but in the moment she couldn’t help herself. “I’ve heard rumors around here. Grindelwald’s supporters aren’t the only ones running around. We- we’ve been dropped smack in the middle of an ideological war and it’s not our fight, Beau. Things are gettin’ ugly around here and I don’t want you to get hurt.” She felt a lump forming in her throat and the thought that Beau might not listen to her had Savannah panicking. “Please, Beau. Don’t get involved.”

It was a good thing that Savannah had chosen to pull her hand away from his shoulder, because if she hadn’t, he would have shrugged it right off. They had only just begun speaking, but he could already tell that the beginnings of an argument were forming between them, and he mentally prepared himself for battle. His jaw clenched together, and he didn’t speak. She was still talking -- what was new there, right? -- but he chose to listen, his eyes flashing in dangerous annoyance every few seconds. What did she mean it wasn’t their fight? It was their fight until they ended up back in America, damn it! They were stuck here against their will, so why not do something to make it better? He was talking about the good guys! Couldn’t she see that?

“Savannah, I’ve lost roommates this year!” He exclaimed. “And-- and you nearly died trying to save that one guy from Ravenclaw! This is our fight, because they made it that way. And--” His eyebrows furrowed, “--and even if it’s not. What’s so wrong with wanting to help?” He lowered his voice slightly, wary of drawing attention to either one of them. He leaned forward, shaking his head. “I thought-- I thought you would understand, Savannah.” He shook his head, an expression of distaste coloring his face as he looked at her. “I should have known not to tell you.” He shifted slightly where he sat, beginning the movements required to get up. “Forget I said anything, alright?”

She had been counting on a little privacy. Surely that wasn’t too much to hope for - this time of day, most people were on their way back to their common rooms or the library or somewhere else that wasn’t a classroom. But fate or God had other plans and she spun around as she heard the voice. It took her a minute to recognize it, although the accent was not one that could easily be mistaken. “Beau. I’m fine.” How many times had she said that over the past few weeks? Too many to count, and every time had been a lie, or at least a half-truth. This time it was definitely a lie and not even a convincing one, especially if he heard her yelling. That would be really embarrassing. She wasn’t supposed to lose her head and hit things and scream into the air.

Reaching up, she brushed her hands over her face. She hadn’t been crying yet, although there were tears in her eyes, but she felt hot and there was a thin layer of sweat on her face. Probably from the yelling. “I just needed a minute, that’s all. Are you all right? What time is it? I was on my way back to the common room and I just …” She stopped, not sure what to say, and instead finishing with a shrug.

Beau had never been the most observant boy, and anyone who knew him would agree. Still, dumb or not, even he was not so foolish as to not understand that he was definitely interrupting something. He eyed Mary closely, while at the same time trying to act like he wasn’t doing that very same thing. Her eyes were watering, and her face was red. He wanted to inquire further as to what was wrong with her, but she had said she was fine. Now, he knew that wasn’t true, but where did one draw the line at being comforting and being too pushy? He ran an awkward hand through his hair, and looked away as she brushed her hands across the face. It wasn’t much in the mode of privacy, but it was all he felt that he could in that moment besides leave entirely. And should he leave entirely? Was that the right thing to do?

Ugh, girls were so confusing, even the ones that he didn’t like romantically. He cleared his throat. “I’m fine.” He said reassuringly. The last thing he needed was for her to think that he was upset again. “Today was a good day, actually. First one in awhile.” He took a tentative step further into the room. “I’m not sure of the time,” He answered honestly, “But I know that dinner just ended.” He nodded his hand in understanding, knowing what she meant without her having to say it. “I get that.” He said simply. “It happens to me too sometimes.” He shrugged his shoulders, and then tilted his head. “Want to talk about it?”

She nodded at his words, confirming what she had assumed, but he wasn’t done. Waiting, as he hesitated for a minute, she reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. His words were not what she expected in the slightest; she had only a vague knowledge of American history, or even about Grindelwald, and she hadn’t known the connection between the Wilkinsons and Grindelwald until right now. Mary let out a sigh, raising her eyebrows at him. “That’s a lot to handle. But yeah, I can pray for that. Even if I don’t have quite the right words, God will understand.” She took a minute to pause, trying to find the right words before she started praying, but it was a lot. So instead, she held her hand out to him and bowed her head. “Please be with the Wilkinsons right now. I ask that you keep their family in America safe from everything that’s happening, and I ask for Beau and Savannah to be safe here. And give them both peace about being so far away, especially Beau. Amen.” It wasn’t eloquent at all but Mary was tired, and it was such a big thing, she didn’t know if she’d have been any more eloquent at another time.

Mary was right. It was a lot to handle. He wasn’t sure how he had been managing for the last few weeks, but somehow, while he was here with her in the presence of God, he could feel some semblance of comfort. He took her hand again and lowered his head once more. Each and every word that left her mouth was one he repeated in urgent fervor in the confines of his mind. He pictured each and every face in his family -- even Savannah’s -- and prayed as hard as he could that they would be alright. He especially prayed for peace, though. Peace of mind, peace of body, peace of anything really. When she finished, he looked up again, and smiled. “Thank you, Mary.” He said sincerely. “This-- this means a lot to me. I think I needed this.”