The morning after the night before dawned as though nothing had even occurred. As far as the wider world was concerned, the house in Knockturn Alley was left to apricate in the early morning sunshine and slowly but surely the said golden tendril rays began to slither in through the thin curtains that had been drawn across the old sash windows in quiet need of painting – a job that had been neglected by the patriarch of the household.
Whilst the façade remained ever the same with its excess of flowers in boxes beneath the windowsills, the world behind the walls was very different. Plates were left abandoned on the table, wine left open and not poured on the side, the candles had snuffed themselves out with their own wax and the only sign aside from the barely touched food that served to suggest someone lived there at all and that it was not an elaborate set for a film or something was the empty bottle of rum slumped against the fruit bowl in the middle of the table.
Upstairs, despite the doors being open to any discerning eye, there was signs of life that existed outside of the ruse of a romantic dinner. Upon pushing open the door to the master bedroom, her nails trailing across the wood, Adriana Rookwood’s eyes fell easily upon her brother. He was bundled beneath the sheets strewn over the bed, one arm curled around the pillow his head was laid upon, the other bound tightly around the slumbering child beside him. She dropped her hand down to her side and pursed her lips faintly, betraying conflicting opinions on the matter.
“Theodore,” her hands found his shoulders and she shook him gently, eliciting a groan from his chest. “Teddy, get up.” She insisted, smacking her hand down on his back. He grunted but didn’t move – only shifting a little to draw the child in closer and that coupled with Adriana’s coaxing, earthy voice served to awaken the baby from her gentle slumber. She blinked a few times, bringing her fist up to rub at them, and once she gathered her countenance she looked up to smile.
“Hello you,” Adriana cooed, extending her hands out. Thankfully the child was eager to come to her and Adriana extricated the baby from his father’s grasp, lifting herself up to press her knee into his back as she did so. Theodore gave a yelp just as Adriana moved the baby onto her hip and he rolled over, drawing his wand out of the holster on the bedside cabinet, training it at once on his sister. Adriana arched a thin eyebrow at him.
“Good morning,” she spoke airily as Theodore scowled, chuntering to himself about nothing as he tore his glasses off of the table, slamming his wand down on the top instead, letting her know what he thought about her being in his home at, he glanced out at the clock, nine thirty on a Thursday. He groaned, sinking back into the pillows, pushing his glasses up onto his head as he muttered a request for five more minutes he hoped would turn into ten, fifteen, maybe even a whole twenty minutes.
“Get up, Theodore,” Adriana sniffed, kicking at the bed with the side of her foot. “Go and have a shower. Get rid of the alcohol smell.”
“I don’t smell of alcohol,” he complained petulantly, rolling over again to spy at his sister. She arched her brow at him again, disbelief knitting itself over her dainty features and Theodore scowled at her, blowing a lock of hair out of his eyes which he promptly reached up to rub in an echo of his child’s early action. “Okay maybe,” he conceded, pulling his glasses back onto his nose. He scowled at her again, though, determined not to let her be entirely right.
“Put some clothes on,” she instructed him sourly. “Then I want you to go and do something today other than sit and worry about what grandfather is going to do.”
Theodore swung his legs over the side of the bed, sliding his toes into the soft rug upon which the bed was set, and he stood up, moving around the bed, extending his arms for Esme who immediately plopped herself into his embrace. He pressed a kiss to her hair and cuddled her close before fixing his sister with a weary, suspicious glare.
“Yes, they’ve gone ballistic, Ted,” she said, as though he even needed the clarification. “She’s gorgeous, though, so clearly she’ got none of you in her.”
“Cheers,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. “So what are they going to do?”
“Nothing.” Adriana responded simply, shocking Theodore to stillness. “They can’t do anything, can they? They could have Cressida killed and dumped in a ditch and the same for your and little leanbh.”
“Working on your Irish, Adri?” he commented with a smirk, studiously ignoring her words as he set Esme on the dressing table so he could focus on getting her out of her baby grow. He tossed it into the hamper and pulled her hair out of the little band that Cris must have put it up in though his memory was shady when it came to what it looked like when he’d first been given Esme.
“Shut up,” she hissed. “So, where are you going to go then?” She inquired, lithely changing the subject like the good diplomat she was.
“Keiran’s, probably,” Theo told her, lifting Esme up onto his shoulder. “He’s a dad. He’ll have an opinion if nothing else.”
“Our cousin,” Adriana’s eyebrows shot to her forehead. “I somehow think he wins being as his children are legitimate.”
“Fair point,” Theodore conceded. “I had better go and deal with that after.”
Adriana’s eyes bugged out of her head and she stared at her brother as though perhaps the rum had gone and ruined half of his brain. It was a suggestion which deserved the incredulity it was greeted with. Not only would it serve to alienate his wife but also, most definitely, the family would not talk to him. They would tolerate Half-Bloods from a Half-Blood but they would not if one half of that wasted blood came from a Mudblood and most certainly not if it was a bastard Half-Blood on top of everything else.
“Theodore,” she attempted to interject but before she could even so much as begin to protest he had already retreated into the bathroom. She would have to wait for that then.
Adriana had taken up residence in the sitting room by the time Theodore and Esme were back downstairs. Theodore had finally gotten himself together and looked as though he wasn’t as hung over as perhaps he was. In a pair of soft, light coloured trousers and a sky blue, stripy button down shirt he looked put together even without the shirt having been tucked into his trousers just yet. His hair was damp but combed, left to curl and his glasses were perched on the end of his nose. His socks were odd, ever a quirk of his, but other than that she was glad to find her brother in order once more.
It was vaguely disconcerting for his elder sister to find he looked very at home with a child. Esme’s appearance was one that Theodore seemed to have taken a bit longer weighing up. He had put her in a vest that had a pretty peter pan collar with blue stitching on it and to accompany that she had dungarees on top, sky blue also, that had ducks in a multi-coloured row accenting the straps and the pocket in the front. She had on a pair of frilly socks – thankfully her father’s penchant for unmatched socks didn’t extend to his daughter – and the only thing the pair seemed to be fretting over was her hair. It had been washed, Adriana could smell the mango, but neither looked satisfied.
“Oh come here,” she burst, putting down her teacup. She gestured for Theodore to put Esme down on the sofa beside her and he did so, handing over the brush and the hair ties along with a piece of ribbon. “I take it Cressida gave you all of this?” She queried.
“Yeah,” Theodore replied, watching intently as he tucked his shirt into his trousers. He was determined to memorise the way she did it. He supposed it was something of a woman thing – this exactness. But as she combed out the wispy hair he noticed the way it curled at the ends, wet as it was. She’d definitely taken his hair, if nothing else and that made him feel a little bit more buoyant – a little bit more like he actually was her father. Properly, genes and all.
“I like that you’ve chosen to match,” Adriana acknowledged with her usual glibness as she lifted up a portion of Adriana’s hair, combing down the rest. Then, she handed the brush to the little girl who exclaimed a quick ‘ta’ to the delight of the woman behind her and Adriana’s quick fingers tied the band around the hair she’d been holding. She then looped the ribbon around the hair band and tied it in a large bow and looked at Theodore for his opinion. He could only smile.
“Does that mean I can come with you?” Adriana asked after he lifted Esme back up into his arms. Theodore looked at her quizzically. “I am bored with the firm, Teddy,” she expressed to him honestly. “Please can I come?”
Reluctant though he was, Theodore found himself acquiescing to her request. He let her admission wash over him a few times as he cleaned up the kitchen. Adriana and Esme had a small breakfast together at the table while he directed his wand at the dishes and the glasses and he realised that she must have been genuine in her desire because, simply, from the way she held the child. A few years prior, knowing how expensive her clothes were, there never would have been a time when Adriana Rookwood would have elected to have a baby on her lap and especially not the product of a Mudblood – regardless of who made up the other half. Something had changed.
“You’re learning Irish,” he accused of her as he set down their coffees. “You are happily holding my child and sharing food with her,” he added, taking a slice of toast out of the rack on the table. “You are aware Cressida has dirty blood aren’t you? You’re aware that blood is in her.” He gestured to Esme who cried at him around her strawberry, as though sensing he was being rude. He sent her apologetic look.
“Oh Theodore shut up,” Adriana complained wearily at him. “My reasoning is by the wayside now. I’m twenty-six years old – I should have grown up about all of this stuff by now, shouldn’t I? And besides that, I want to be able to administer the lands I have in Kilkenny and they all speak Irish so that’s why.”
“Not good enough,” he replied simply, buttering his toast. “Why have you got lands in Kilkenny – who’d you get them off of?”
Adriana flushed deeply and Theodore studied her, mentally going through the well-to-do landed families he knew lived there. He couldn’t think of any wizards but as he took a bite of his toast, Esme unconsciously mirroring him as she brought another strawberry to his lips, it occurred to him that, of course, there were no Wizarding families there that were landed. They were all Muggle.
“Adri-”
“Drop it, Theodore!” She scolded him, picking up her coffee.
The relationship between the two siblings had always been a strange one. In more ways than one, Theodore had always been the baby of the family. They had thought at first that Desdemona was over and finished after Adriana but Thaddeus had always been ruthlessly unfair and thus pressed Theodore upon her. Between him and his eldest sister was a monumental gap of nearly twenty years. Catherine, and then Irina, had always been second and third mothers to him. Adriana, having five years on him, possibly should have taken a similar role but they had been more like siblings than he had been with any of the others although she still, rightly, babied him. He took it on the chin.
The two of them together was a strange sight indeed. Whilst not carbon copies of one another it was clear that they were very closely related and as they apparated up to Galway from London, landing easily in one of the back allies in the village a little way from the new Hayes home, it occurred to Theodore just how rare it was to spend time with his sister. She’d elected to carry Esme and started to stride off into the sunshine as soon as they’d arrived. He’d packed a bag with things he’d assumed they’d need then repacked with things he didn’t need but felt he had to include. After gathering his countenance off he went, too.
“So what does he look like then?” Adriana called out, turning round as she continued to walk up the dirt path that led up, out of the village towards higher ground and towards the house. “Our cousin, I mean.”
“Ugly munter,” Theodore returned with a laugh, earning a glare from his sister. “Oh, I dunno. Like me, I guess.”
“Hideously ugly munter then,” Adriana returned, turning back around with a laugh herself. Esme, much to Theodore’s horror, also offered a laugh and he shook his head as Adriana praised her, kissing her head, wondering himself whether this had been the best of ideas.
The pair soon found themselves on soft, bouncy grass and Adriana leaned down to take off her shoes. It mystified Theodore how the woman had managed to walk that far with the ankle snapping heels on but he was reminded quickly of the fact that her stylishly cut skirt and pretty blouse was of a different world to this one. She was part of the glittering parties he made a point of avoiding. She was one of the kind that walked for hours at strange soirees in the glittering salons of all of the fashionable capitals the world had to offer. She lived in heels like that.
“This is it, is it?” Adriana inquired, glancing over her shoulder at Theodore.
“Yeah,” he replied, coming up beside her, pleased to find she’d been docked a fair few inches. He lifted his arm and rested it on her shoulder, smirking sardonically at her. “Nice innit?”
“It’s gorgeous,” she admitted, leaning over to inhale some of the rich lavender that bordered the picturesque archway that opened them into the front garden. “Smells divine.” She gave a kick to his leg briefly and Theodore chuckled before pushing at her, inviting her to hop down the path towards the house.
“You alright with mean old Adri, Essy baby?” He called out to his daughter who twisted herself around, bringing a toothy grin to her face. Adriana glared at him – how dare he even imply she wouldn’t be.
“I resent you calling me old,” Adriana retorted as she reached the veranda. “I hope you get a receding hairline, Theo.”
Theodore blanched. “That’s not fair,” he pouted.
“Life’s not fair,” she shot back with a grin. “C’mon, knock on the door.”
Theodore rolled his eyes, stepped forward and did as he was told. It took a few moments but soon enough the door was wrenched open to reveal a harried looking Millie Hayes. She was dressed – often not such a regular thing – and had her backpack hanging from one shoulder, books cradled against her chest in the arm on the same side. She smiled at them brightly and opened the door wider for them to step inside. Theodore did so contentedly, putting his bag down by his shoes which he immediately took off.
“You going out?” He inquired. “The hubby home?”
“College,” Millie explained ruefully, picking up her sunglasses off of the hall table. “Essays due … coming out of my ears – it’s a nightmare. Look, hopefully I’ll be back before you guys go… Adriana, right?” Adri nodded. “Nice to meet you. I’m sorry. Get whatever you want. We went shopping so the larder’s full. Um, yeah. Right, gotta run. Keiran’s upstairs. See you!”
And with that, Millie was gone and the three Rookwoods were stood in the hall all with matching bemused expressions. Theodore had assumed, probably rightly, that the twins were most likely asleep and so he took Esme from Adriana and moved to the staircase.
“Keiran!” He called up the stairs. “D’you want a cup of tea, mate?”
The two of them moved into the kitchen as directed by Millie. Esme was plopped down on the island much to her delight as she wasn’t trussed up in someone’s arms but she did get to look around and Theodore flicked on the kettle, electing to lean against the counter to make faces at her, setting her into giggles. Adriana remained standing, her arms folded across her chest, her dark, Rookwood gaze watching Esme intently just in case she needed to dart out quickly to prevent the baby from falling.
“It’s weird to think members of our family live elsewhere, isn’t it? Like, not at home.” Adriana offered as meantime conversation.
“This is a home, Adri,” Theodore murmured. “That house is a prison.”
by Theodore Rookwood Tue Jul 22, 2014 1:40 pm
