#parkinott

[Waiting nervously with both of the letters - and the owl that has been stalking him - Bastian sits at the cafe near Esme's flat. He's folded and unfolded the letters so many times they're more like fabric now. The moment he sees Esme, he folds the letter up again and immediately knocks something over.] Fuck. Shit. No. Hi, Esme. 

Bastian was beginning to wonder if he was better off without his own memories now. After the ominous things Scorpius had said, the way people treated his return, the things he had witnessed from Jess's memory. Again, he was laying awake on Esme's couch, trying to fight back sobs that were muffled in the pillow he'd been given. In Jess's memory, he'd been a strong child. Now, it seemed, the broken wand had taken away that too and he was knocked back to a scared little boy. 

He reached for the booze again, fully intending to self medicate until he couldn't feel anything anymore and found it empty. Merlin, had he been drinking that much? Lost, trying to forego raiding Esme's liquor cabinet, he went to the bathroom and washed his face several times, gasping breath and trying to control himself. 

Pieces of his life were falling together. Who he had been. What he had done. Marcone had told him the wand he had been making had been temperamental at the best of times and when it was almost together it had done it's best to help him. That was why he'd been sent back to the place in the first place. It seemed now that he had been running away to that apprenticeship, sent back to sort his heart and head. He had stubbornly refused and then failed. He'd ended up hurting people so much...

Carefully, he went to Esme's room and knocked. The door wasn't latched enough to stay closed and the gentle rap of his knuckles had it falling open. Nervous, he shifted from foot to foot, wanting to go to someone who made him feel whole and healed and not wanting to wake her up. Silently, he padded across the floor and knelt beside her bed.

Esme had been looking up and down the castle, searching for Bastian, and had been an obnoxious level of unsuccessful. The excursion with Zooey had helped clear her head - ah, the wonders of Topshop - and, while she was still adamant that she had an extremely valid point, she now realized that she had been the furthest thing from fair.

Bastian, however, seemed determined to not be found. Exhausted from running around the castle, she collapsed against a wall, just in time to overhear conversation from around the corner.

"Yes, Vi said she was down by the Hospital Wing visiting that old knight and saw them bringing the lad in."

"Are you sure it was the Parkinson lad?"

"Yes, yes, positive. Never mistakes fodder for gossip, does she, Miss Violet?"

In an almost trance-like state, Esmerelda moved around the corner, eyes wide. "Excuse me? Are you talking about Sebastian Parkinson?"

A wizened wizard met her eyes with a steely gaze and sharply replied, "And what's it to you, young lady?"

"It's the Nott girl."

"Alfred, it's his young friend."

"Guilty as charged," Esme confirmed, nodding quickly. "Hospital Wing, you said?"

Esme-

I'm fucked. It's taken me this long to figure out how to send you a goddamn letter without it being intercepted and destroyed. These fuckers are trying to send me to Durmstrang. I'm trying to keep from going but there's...a lot happening. A lot. Share this with Scorpius. He should know. I have no plans to not make it back and I will be damned if they are going to ruin all of this for me. If Scorpius can't wait for me to come back, don't hurt him. That's fair. I'm still trying to figure my way out of the binding spells and get home to you. Luckily, McGonagall is having none of their shit and is demanding to see me before she allows me to be transferred. I think the portraits have spoken to her. At any rate, I will be back and I might be a bit broken by then. I love you Parkinott. So much. I will be back and whether I have Scorpius when I return or not, I will need you to hold me.

-Bastian

Bast,

Wow. These fuckers just get better and better, don't they? Don't worry about it; I think I'm going to pay McGee a visit. At any rate, she's well aware of what your dear old mum's like anyway so she's likely to believe me.

I love you so much. Take care of yourself, darling.

The portraits said I could find you here. 

Parkinott, Take care, darling. Love you.

Paris, yes. Esme rather loved the idea, even though she had only thought it up on a whim to be insane. But really, what better than to go mad somewhere nobody really knew them but word of their misdemeanours would still make it back to their parents, now that she thought about it.