#humanbludgers

In her usual dramatic flair, it is a howler, and enchanted so that the moment it is touched by one of the pair, it opens itself up. Instead of the yelling that may be expected, it’s actually got quite a pleasant tone, especially for how disapproving Molly was about the joke shop.

“Dearest George and Fred,” It begins, reading itself out “I know you’re incredibility busy these days, with how running your little business takes up all of your time, and I know it must be so difficult to write your poor mother these days, I decided to write you first. 

It pains me to admit it, but the house has gone rather eerily quiet without you here, and while I do apreciate being able to sleep without something sneaking around, I do wish you were able to find the time to visit. I see that your little fads are popping up everywhere. Ms. Hummingbuck, the one you two always made fun of as children even had one of your purple purring things, though I can\t remember for the life of me what it was called. She says she adores it, and that with her bones aching these days, the little thing is almost perfect for a detraction.

I’ll be popping in to visit you in a few days, unless of course you don’t want me to visit you that badly; I know how much you value your privacy. That being said, PLEASE PICK UP YOUR UNDERWEAR! The last thing I want to do is show up and pick up after you after I’ve had to do that for ALL OF YOUR LIVES.

Love, your mum.”

    The second Wizarding War is over. He hadn’t been able to do anything, he hadn’t been able to protect anyone but himself. So many people got hurt.

    Maybe that’s what drove him to insist to stay over at Molly’s when he did, it’s been a few weeks after the end of the war. Weeks? Months? He’s been out of the loop for so long, it was an accident that they had told him in the first place, and of course he was over the moment he was told. He had tried to question why Molly hadn’t told him, but she doesn’t give him a straight answer.

     The twins are gone as well, and when he tries to ask about them, Molly gets short with him, telling him that he can look at the clock if he has any questions about family members. He doesn’t hold it against her, he understands she’s under a lot of stress and he doesn’t want to add to it. He had decided to stick around for the night just in case she wanted to talk to him.

     He had fallen asleep on the couch, his dozing turning restless when the stress of the day starts to infect his usual bad dreams. When they finally woke him, he finds himself bolting up the stairs to check on his remaining sibling. Even though he knows that she’s okay, even though he knows he can’t just burst into Molly’s room like this, he can’t calm the sheer panic that is pouring through him.

     It’s something of a relief that he finds the strength to take his hands away from the bedroom door before he turns it, but even that isn’t good enough, as Molly opens it for him, her brown eyes alit with indigent fire, already reaming him out for being so insensitive as to run in the house like that this late at night. He doesn’t care, a smile finding it’s way to his lips. She really is okay, isn’t she? He leans forward, trying to hug her, still hazy from the dream before.

     Before his arms come around her, he’s pulled back to reality as her hand on his shoulder strops him from moving, the fire in her eyes turning his heart to ice. He realizes, she’s mad at him, not his actions. His stomach drops as she speaks again.

     “Go home, Gideon. I can’t do this. I’ve got a family and I can’t take care of you.”

     He shifts his weight backwards, gawking at her. She holds his gaze for a moment, before turning to go back to bed, closing the door on him, leaving him shaking. He-- She’s right. The shock of it wears off a little, and he moves off.. But doesn’t leave the house just yet. He finds himself sitting in the twins’ empty room, just for a moment. Why here? 

      More than anything, he wants to commiserate with Fabian, but that wasn’t possible was it? This was the closest he could get to talking to someone who understood. Well... The thought comes to him as he’s staring at the wand on Fred’s bed. George must have his wand, as it’s not here. What had Molly said? Check the clock if he wanted to know where family was?

      He leaves through the kitchen door, a wand that wasn’t his bucking in his hand as he summons the Knight Bus. He arrives at St. Mungo’s without much of a fuss, and after talking to the lady at the desk is let up into the room with the two young men. He’s not sure what to say right away, setting Fred’s wand down on the table beside him, pulling up a seat next to George.

[THIS IS PATHETIC I DONT FEEL SHAMED AT ALL]

Imogen sat there as he fondled her chest. Her cheeks flushed at such a public display of...well, it was affection. More like a public display of interest. She looked down at his hands and back up at him. “Thank you, I made them myself.” Imogen replied slowly as she became suddenly self-conscious.

She closed her jean jacket some before shrugging. “The properties of powdered root of asphodel...and who really cares when I’m just going to fail?” Maybe it’s what she said. She couldn’t remember. The groping was a surprise that she wasn’t expecting.

      “ and then, if we have any of it left, maybe we could charm it so it falls on top of him once he sits down on THE GREAT HALL. “

[concept: we get water guns and roam the streets as anti-smoking vigilantes called The Extinguishers]

send me ✎ for a facebook post my muse made about yours

the image wouldn’t save so this will have 2 do