The New Chapter Choo-Choo Train

Benjamin picked her up from the station at almost exactly nine o’clock. It was about seven minutes passed because Elsie had been struggling with the amount of bags she had packed. When she finally spotted her big brother, those very bags had fallen around her as she enveloped him in a big hug, one much bigger than necessary since she had seen him only two weeks before when they had dined with their parents. Still, Elsie never felt like she saw enough of her big brother, so it was hard for the already-affectionate woman to hold in her joy in being greeted by him.

He hugged her back, grumbling in her ear, “You know, you could have apparated here. It would have saved you the plane and the train tickets.”

Elsie laughed. “Me – apparate overseas. I think you want a sister with all her limbs intact, no?”

He released her, giving her a begrudging smile. Elsie’s weak magic was no longer a point of shame among the siblings, but a fact of nature. They knew she made up for it with personality, which could be described as nearly anything but weak. He tipped his head and she shot a fist in the air. “Elsie, 6. Benjamin, 42. I’m catching up.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping track.” Elsie gave him a serious look. “You’ll believe it when I finally overtake you and I become the perfect child who’s always right.” He again laughed.

She struck a diva-esque pose and plucked up a single bag. “Now carry my things, boy.” It did not take her long to break, and she scooped up a handle of her rolling bag, and a few shopping bags. Benjamin picked up the rest, being fairly strong, even for the bookish man he was.  They walked down the station towards the next platform that would take her to London. Benjamin would leave her there and her cousin Gabby would be picking her up with their mutual friend Roxanne, another American girl and making sure she found a way from there. Her itinerary almost made her seem a tad dependent, but in reality, she just liked the excuse to surround herself with friends.

As they walked, Elsie found a bounce had entered her already quick-paced walk, making her look as though she would take to the air at any second. Benjamin watched her and let out a laugh, letting his own step begin to adopt the cheery attitude, though he had never been as buoyant as his little sister. While he had mastered everything she seemed incapable of, he had never mastered his sister’s knack for what seemed to be perpetual optimism. He had even seen the light of happiness shine in her while she shrieked at someone who had crossed her – there was always hope in his sister.

Or so he supposed.

“Mom wanted me to ask you if you’re really sure about moving,” he said, testing the waters. He did not question her choices, he knew she would only do what made her happy, but he also wanted to please his parents, so the question had to be asked.

“It’s not really moving,” Elsie insisted, as they walked at a brisk pace to the next train. “It’s just… hanging out with Claire in another country until she gets assigned back.” She hummed, deciding this was how she would look at it. “It’s a brief adventure. A working vacation.  Étendu vacances.”

“Vacances prolongées. You need to brush up on your French, sis.”

“I’m heading to London. Down with the French.”

Benjamin laughed as they reached the platform where Elsie would be boarding. The train had arrived and now she looked to the door. The door that would open, admit her, and whisk her away from Benjamin and to Claire. Benjamin carefully loaded her luggage into the compartment, taking the bags in her hands and depositing them in her home for the next few hours. When all was done, he turned and Elsie gave him another tight hug, uncertain as to the next time she would see him. Sure, he could always apparate and visit, but word was the British Ministry were making some stupid decisions, and Benjamin typically strayed away from bad policy.

“Stay safe, and take care of Claire,” he said, calmly and kindly directing her.

“You too, and move out here and marry her eventually,” Elsie replied back, relying on an old joke to help with good bye. Benjamin laughed and released her from his embrace, before reaching out and messing up her hair with a good tussle. She gasped and he turned and hurried off before she could hit him. By the time she was done fixing her hair, Benjamin had gotten far. He turned and gave one last wave before disappearing in the crowd.

Elsie turned and looked up at the large train, getting more and more excited for the adventure that waited ahead. With that, she stepped into her compartment.

“Pray tell, brother from another mother, why are you taking the train when you could apparate?”

It was the eternal question: one which Theodore Rookwood did not know the answer to. Inexplicably, he found himself with his best friend, stood outside Edinburgh train station because inside was a non-smoking area. On his shoulder was a satchel and between his lips was a cigarette. His hair was askew, his glasses pushing his fringe away, and the shirt collar around his neck had lost its starchiness but regardless his pinstripe shirt was still creaseless and tucked into his trousers. His hoodie was wrapped around his middle by the arms and Cael was a mirror – albeit in a t-shirt and jeans because his function was as a Healer, not an educator. It was time to go home. However, he wasn’t going to go home too quickly. He wanted to avoid confrontation with his wife, thank you very much.

“I thought you were quitting,” Cael griped, folding his arms over his broad chest.

Theodore looked up at his friend just as he stubbed out the cigarette and he shrugged his shoulders, exhaling the last breath of smoke as he did so. To his credit, Cael didn’t appear too irate with Theodore. He merely accepted it and shuffled off to the apparition point as Theodore’s train was announced. Shaking his head, Theodore took a swig of water from the bottle in his hand and tucked it back into his bag before striding out onto the platform. He jumped onto the train behind a few other people and moved briskly down the corridor, searching for a secluded area – the seats putting him far to other people – before entering the carriage that had compartments and it was there, through one of the windows, that he spotted a familiar face.

It had been years since Theodore had seen Elsie Norton and he conceded that after this meeting it would probably be years until he saw her again. Still, she was a pleasant enough sight if there ever was one and Theodore had always borne a certain fondness for brunettes. Although, he did officially prefer blondes, I would hasten to add. Elsie was a sweetheart, if he remembered rightly, and easy to rile if he remembered even more rightly still. For all he knew now, though, she could’ve been a serial killer looking for her next victim. Theodore had always been something of a narcissist. He was more than happy to let such a pretty little thing try and kill him. He doubted she’d get very far and she always was a little too nice for the serial killing trade – so perhaps a florist, then.

“Elsie,” Theodore called out, sliding the door open a little wider. “Long time no see,” Theodore leaned against the doorframe and smirked a little. “Mind if I join you? Everywhere else is full.” Liar. Liar, liar, liar. Tricky liar. Tricky man. Cheeky man. Poor Elsie.

Elsie had once been dressed in appropriate, youthful dresses that hinted at her curves without showing them outright. She had worn stockings and shiny shoes with buckles. Her hair had been curled and pulled back with barettes. Her mother had done her makeup, carefully reminding her that rotten language could not slip from her tongue. Then, she had apparated off with her parents and with Benjamin, and they had wined and dined with the finest society the magical community had to offer. Sure, they were halfbloods, but there were loaded, and both of her parents came from families that were barely beneath pureblood status, so they were easily forgiven. Besides, she and Benjamin were easy on the eyes, so no one had ever complained much.

It had taken about three years being out in society, from age fourteen to seventeen, for Elsie to learn the names of the entire Rookwood clan, and even then, she found she missed one occassionally. She always joked that they were the crown jewels of the pureblood social ring, and that eventually someone would capitalize and make them all into action figures - they'd be nice to put on a shelf, after all. She enjoyed them, nevertheless. She was not sure how real any of them really were, but they said pretty things with their pretty faces in their pretty clothes, and Elsie always did like aesthetics.

So, she was not upset to see Theodore Rookwood come in. Firstly, it was a familiar face that could potentially help her continue the transistion from overseas. She was confident he would not say anything to Claire - mostly because Claire had not been apart of that social society growing up, and because Claire was not the sort to be around many people. For now, it would simply be nice to catch up with an old friend and a pretty face.

"Long time, indeed!" she said, standing. They would hug, of course, Elsie hugged everyone. She stepped forward and gave him a friendly embrace, rubbing his back rigorously before releasing him. "Come on in, the water is fine." She smiled and waved her hand towards a seat, before taking her own, promptly swinging one of her legs over the other, nails resting on her knee, head tilting and curls bouncing against her shoulder.

"How have you been, Theodore?" she said, her tone warm and inviting.

The Nortons were the kind of people that had presence. They were few but they bore presence and there was something special and worth remembering about each of them. The thing that Theodore had always remembered about Elsie was that she was easily the prettiest of the lot and he had no qualms about admitting – but only to himself, mind – that he had rather liked her when they were younger. His family had always been large and skulking and rampant in their desire to destroy each other and everyone else to get their ends. Hers was so much calmer by comparison and, certainly, she was right if she ever thought that there was something to fear in the Rookwood way of life. It was not without peril. They were too much. Comparatively, the Nortons were like a calm sea, rising and falling to the call of the wind on a cloudless summer’s eventide.

There was a little glint of pride in Theodore’s eye when he was allowed to wrap his arms around Elsie. She was still little, he noted as his fingers peppered down her spine, but he found that it was a pleasant littleness. When she pulled away from him, Theodore was almost disappointed. Almost. He papered a smile across his face instead and ducked inside as she indicated, closing the door behind him. He put his bag up on the overhead rack and took his hoodie from around his middle, putting it up there with the satchel before setting himself down comfortably on the wide bench opposite Elsie. From the window, he imagined, they would have quite the view. Though, even if they didn’t, Elsie was a view enough for him – a line he’d use on her later, if he could.

“Pleasant enough,” Theodore smirked, setting his hands in his lap.

That wasn’t true, of course. Marriage. Joining the Death Eaters. Cutting off his wife’s leg. Finding out she was pregnant. Finding out she didn’t want the baby. It had been nightmare after nightmare, in truth, but Theodore wasn’t going to pour out all of his issues on Elsie. That was what Cael was for, after all. But of course, he had been taught the Pureblood way of things. There was no need to complain about his lot. He still had money – albeit, his grandfather’s – and he newly had a job – albeit, shepherding Half-Breeds – and he was doing fairly well for himself despite avoiding his wife like she’d come down with plague rather than a severe case of selfishness. It was a trait he bore too but, beyond murdering his brother to inherit everything, Theodore did have a qualm or two about selfishness impacting upon another’s life – and, just for the record, he hasn’t killed Lionel … yet.

“I’d much rather like to hear about what you’ve been doing though,” he steered the conversation lithely away from himself. “You look prettier than ever, Els.”

She had settled nicely back into her seat, her brown eyes softly examining Theodore. Did he still go by Theodore? He had always been introduced as Theodore Rookwood, so she doubted he was fond of it. She had always been introduced as ‘Our youngest, Elizabeth.’ She had always waited for the parents to move on before reintroducing herself with a wide, smile ‘Elsie.’ If he was anything like her, the constant ring of Theodore Rookwood must have become discouraging. But she had very little right to think herself anything like the Rookwood family. They were a different caliber of wizard, much more distinguished and much more magical. She had no right to compare - but she wouldn't worry herself about it.

He was handsome. He has always been a handsome boy, sure, but he had always been her age, and when she was young, she had been bored by people her age. She liked to bat her eyelashes, and tease them about their hand placement, and dare them to break the rules - but she had never been able to look at them and consider them as real potential mates the way that her parents hoped for her. Now that he had outgrown boyhood and taken on the shroud of manhood, Elsie knew she could not claim to be bored by him.

"You look tired," she said, amending his statement about being pleasant. That was the one asset Elsie had that Claire did not. Claire could observe and deduce and pull out many a clever trick. But Elsie understood human emotion and how it expressed itself - especialyl since she was so often full of it herself, and had little trouble expressing. She could see it - in the almost lethargic movement in his face, in the shine in his eyes, in the darkness surrounding them. But no one ever said tired was bad.

He asked about her, a topic she was easily considered an expert in. She cold always talk about herself - she had no abundance of shyness or modesty to prevent her from doing it. She smiled pleasantly at the compliment. "Thank you. Beats the awkward teenager who was always trying to get drunk from the punch. I'm very proud of my accomplishments." She grinned, biting her bottom lip. "You look great, by the way, tired and everything."

What was she doing here? That had to be the question. "I've been in Manhattan for the past few years. Moving out here to keep up with Claire. She's my soul sister, so if we're away from each too long, we die. So." She shrugged. "Not sure what I'm doing out here yet, but it had better be fun."

Theodore could feel the weariness in his bones. They were achy and his skin stung in places where his students were getting better at the old hexes. He was certainly going to have a bit of a kip – or as much of one as he could get – during the trip. What he felt Elsie meant was that he wasn’t just tired to look at but he appeared actually, soulfully fatigued. Theodore couldn’t argue with that either, really, but when the assessment arrived he feigned disbelief regardless, scoffing brightly before turning his gaze out of the window, watching the flurry of activity on the platform opposite theirs. The train soon lurched into life, though, and he found he’d been waiting a touch too long to reply. He finally turned his gaze back to Elsie and he lounged back more leisurely in his chair.

“It’s been a long day,” he explained finally, smiling a little bit.

Theodore chuckled at her words, remembering the giddy teenager that did indeed get a little tipsy on punch. They had fun back then, he could remember. He couldn’t claim that Elsie had changed. He certainly felt the years on his shoulders. He could have done with rolling back time a little bit. He missed being sixteen. Nevertheless, there were certain benefits to being in the twenties and Theodore certainly didn’t want to go back to a time when he couldn’t sit in a pub without being hassled. He liked that bit of being older but the responsibilities he could certainly do without – the wife too, he sometimes thought.

“Oh good,” Theodore quipped, laughing more heartily. “I’m glad I’m still sexy.”

He arched an eyebrow at her subsequent endeavour, wondering when it was that she had gone to America in the first place. He missed the summer excursions to France and Italy – that he could certainly have done with. But America … that was vaguely impressive.

“The law’s been changed you know,” he teased. “You could always just marry her.”

She smiled, glad he had taken no offense. Some people were incredibly silly and took so much too heart when she made her observations. She could never understand it. She was almost always pleased when people spoke of her. Gossip amused her, lies intrigued her, insults interested her, and anything else could be twisted into a compliment of some sort. It was typically words against the people she loved that riled her. Call her a slut, and she would joke that she could sense jealousy. Call Claire cold and Elsie would attempt to peel off the offender's face with her bare hands.

"Perhaps a long journey will do you some good then," she said, hoping it to be true. It would be nice spending the time travelling with a companion. Social creature that she was, she would not have enjoyed herself alone in the compartment. She probably would have gotten up and annoyed the conductor and gotten herself kicked off the train, so it was fortunate for all parties involved that Theodore was riding along. Whyever he was going by train, anyway.

She loved someone who was not shy, and his comment assured her that she was not accompanied by a prude. She grinned, "Very much so." She had little problem lavishing on praise she found justified. She was not the girl to call an ugly man sexy (depending, however, on how badly her Butterbeer-goggles impaired her vision, that was) so she had no shame in giving praise where she saw fit. If she could enjoy the compliments of men, she could bear to give them a few.

She grinned widely as he suggested maryying Claire. "I'd love to - she would resist, I think, because she's afraid of her feelings for me. It scares her, how much she loves me." She pushed a curl behind her ear impressively, smirking all the while. The act left her on the exhale though and the topic changed with it. "So what are you doing on a train, then? I thought I was the only one lame enough to travel so sluggishly."

This kind of topic could always crack the stone and take a willing Rookwood man out of himself. Their mistresses would scorn them for eternity for being brooding and boorish but never did the excel better than when they skirted around the sport that they all revelled in between the sheets of their poster beds. The Rookwood men had always had a healthy sexual appetite and their pursuit of sating that was often considered grossly unhealthy in wonderfully direct contrast. It was talk like this that could truly unsettle a Rookwood. It could turn him from cool and collected to hot and flustered in moments and Theodore’s uncharacteristic fidgeting in his chair was evidence enough that there was more Rookwood in the blood that ran through his veins than there was anything else. Blood, after all, is thicker than water.

But thinking about Claire and Elsie together was a little too distracting and his mind went off into the usual realms a gentleman’s would not. He’d stared unabashedly at Claire’s bum on more than one occasion in the past and he’d also put to memory the one corresponding with the woman before him, the brunette having caught his eyes more often and not. The idea that the two would couple was sumptuous and altogether too mouth-watering for him to properly gather his words. He’d forgotten, after all, what a shameless flirt Elsie was and whilst it was a refreshing change of pace – his life having lately been ruled by angst – he oddly felt out of his depth and, more certainly, woefully out of practise.

“I’d be more than happy to cast an imperious on her if you want, Els,” Theodore chuckled. “Provided, of course, that I get a suitable reward.”

Theodore’s ego had been enlarged twice over by her compliment. He, of course, grinned sharply at her and he busied himself by getting up to grab his bag, discreetly attempting to shift his trousers whilst doing so. He succeeded as far as he could tell and he sat back down with a contented sigh, dumping his bag down and retrieving from it the bottle of water he’d taken out of the fridge early that morning. He’d been on bed duty which ultimately meant finding the most ridiculous and most unpleasant ways of waking up the kids. It stemmed from horns to running and jumping onto the beds to a plain old bucket of water. Needless to say, everyone was in a foul mood that morning and, much to his delight, it was Elijah who had to contend with them first – however, once they got breakfast in them, they all looked a bit brighter.

After taking a sip of water, Theodore replaced the cap and dropped it back in his bag before turning his gaze back to Elsie.

“Well,” Theodore began thoughtfully. “I’m avoiding my father: a staple of my day. I’m avoiding the extended family: a product of this week’s drama. Aaaand, I’m going on an adventure, I s’pose. Plus, look who I’ve got for company,” he gestured to her, “if there is a finer lady anywhere then I’d sooner swallow my wand than admit it.” Theodore smirked a little bit before venturing to enquire: “so are you still unattached, beautiful little you or has some lucky son-of-a-bitch tied you down?”

She laughed at his response, glad to be laughing again. For awhile, things had gotten almost dreary to her. No Claire around, going to clubs for the sake of escape rather than for fun, many nights spent in near fear. Elsie, the girl who liked to boast that she acted without thought, had found herself in trouble for knowing too much. That was what happened when the secretary with the penchant for gossip got involved with a few too many of the corrupt people in government – the secretary found herself fortunate enough to have a friend in another country that could shelter her.

Claire, of course, still thought Elsie had just successfully managed a transfer. Elsie had had no time to ask a transfer, and had been too afraid that asking for a transfer would give her enemies her location. She had just packed up and left, telling no one, not even Nash (especially not Nash), and had hurried to the safety that a new location would give. She wasn’t sure what she was really going to do here, if working in the Ministry would be the safest option. It might be safer to be in a job where people wanted to protect their own, but it would also be easier for the American Ministry to find her. She just wasn’t sure yet – she had time, though. And in that time, she would distract herself. Theodore Rookwood was a good starting point.

“I’d be much obliged,” she said. “Name your price. Anything your imagination wants.” She quirked an eyebrow. He was a pureblood, boy, after all. They had been dressed nice and raised right proper, always lectured to find a suitable wife that could bear them nice little children. In her experience, this made for very sexually agitated men. And an agitated man often had a very active imagination.

Elsie smiled widely at him, tilting her head as she tried to give him a look akin to what one might see on an annoying therapist – and Elsie had met her fair deal of annoying therapists. “You’re running away,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d say I was disappointed if I wasn’t so pleased to benefit from your cowardice.” She smirked, making clear the joke. He complimented her as company and she sat back, lightly bouncing her own curls. “What can I say? They asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I said ‘the party.’” She let out a quick giggle.

He suddenly inquired after her status – her relationship status. Oh, how she wished some witches and wizards would just jump on the internet-train. It made these questions virtually unnecessary. She did not like thinking about herself and relationships after all that had happened in the weeks preceding her move, for getting in trouble had ruined more than her career. It was hard to say single seeing as she never officially broke things off with Nash, but she was sure he had gotten the picture when he had broken into her house and helped in her murder attempt. Awkward.

“I prefer to do the tying down,” she said, always glad to drop an innuendo in lieu of any revealing truth. She smirked. “But I am oh-so-fortunately unattached as I start this new journey. Sans Claire, of course. She’s a given.” She smirked.