Interacting with @Flash Holmwood

Willow had never seen Flash cry. Not even when she denounced their entire friendship and ripped him apart from the inside out with poisoned words and an aching heart. She still really hadn't seen him cry really, as soon as the tears really started flowing he pulled her close. She really couldn't understand what Flash didn't seem in himself that made this such an intense revelation, something to move him so much. These kinds of words were always given to her through family letters, through her friends that appreciated her as a person. What was Flash lacking in his life in that aspect where he didn't get this? It was at that moment Willow decided that he wouldn't be lacking in any kind of affirmation anymore. She had a duty as his sister, as his best friend, to make sure he started to feel and understand the things she felt about him. Willow thought so highly of him, enough to build an entire mountain range that would compete with the height of Everest, it was time for him to climb up and join her at the peak.

For now they headed back to the house hand in hand. It was starting to feel wrong without his hand rather than with it. A constant sign of togetherness, a way to connect to him with gentle squeezes and comforting swipes of the thumb across the back of his hand. As they approached the cottage once more, she paused and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "If you turn down the hall to the left, the bathroom is the first door on the right." An unspoken acknowledgment that he wouldn't want her parents to see him this broken up, despite the fact that they had just come from a grave. She wasn't worried about her parents seeing the still wet tears drying slowly on her cheeks. She cried every time she went to the grave, though it was not always tears shed for her grandma.

Despite the still lingering intenseness in the air between them of adoration, the bounce in her step was not lost as she bounded into the house with him in tow. Gently opening the door, she released his hand and pointed down the hall just in case he already forgot the directions. "Hey! We're back." Owena's light singing could be heard as she sang 'We're Going to Be Friends' by the White Stripes. Willow couldn't help but roll her eyes, but made her way to the kitchen. Looking around she couldn't spot her dad. "Mum, where's dad gone?" It was at this point her mom halted her singing, jumping a bit at Willow's entrance. "Oh, sapling you scared me. He's gone and run to the store in town, we forgot to grab a couple of the veggies for dinner and ours aren't quite ripe yet." The young badger bounded up to her mom to look at see what she was up to. "Starting on dessert then?" A small hum that she knew to mean yes from her mom, Owena glanced behind her. "Where's Flash? Did we scare him off already?" Willow giggled and shook her head, "No, no. He just had to use the restroom."

The kitchen was a chaotic scene to anyone who hadn't grown up in it. Seemingly random herbs hung in a corner of the kitchen. There was a walk-in pantry that was just absolutely filled to the brim with dried herbs, teas, possible spell jars, even if Flash had cooked some of the jars were of things that were only incorporated in spells rather than cooking. It might seem astonishing that this many ingredients existed. There was a whole cabinet dedicated to different kinds of salt. Another one just for flowers. If there was ever a house that had everything, this would be it. Owena was currently working on rolling out dough for the famous pastries she made, filling already made and just needing to be distributed.

When Flash would re-enter the kitchen, Willow would turn with a light in her eyes that had been seen by the campfire when they were cooking together for the first time. "Flash! Come help with dessert~" She looked up at her mum sheepishly, "I-If we can help." Her mom laughed and ruffled Willow's hair with a flour covered hand, leaving a messy handprint on the top of her head. "Of course you can. Go ahead and wash up. Flash, come on over I can teach you the basics while she's doing that." A warm, encouraging, motherly smile would be present on her face as she grabbed an apron off the wall for him and would tie it behind his back. "This is the easiest part~ Everything is all rolled out. All I need for you and sap-Willow... to do is put the filling in the middle of the squares I've scored." She handed him a tablespoon. "Just two of those tablespoons in each of those squares and we're good to go!" Willow at this point appeared at his side with an apron similar to his own. "Easy peasy lemon squeezy~"

Owena looked like such a proud mother in this moment, watching her child who had literally never had anyone over before cooking with someone she now called her brother. "I'm going to start prep for dinner, just let me know when you two are done and I'll come back to help finish it." Willow nodded, "Affirmative Captain Mum!" She did a fake salute and her mum just giggled and shook her head, "At ease, and get to scooping!" Willow got to it, going slower than she normally would so Flash would be able to do an equal amount, and be able to mirror her if he wanted. "I didn't ask about them earlier, but how are your siblings? Are they happy you're home and all that?" Curious eyes wandered up to look at him every now and again, his family was still a mystery to her while he was meeting hers. Maybe this would be the time to get informaiton.

Their journey back to the house was short and quiet, most of their communication being through the medium of touch rather than word. Completely acceptable, Flash wished more people were as affectionate as Willow was. With growing up and hitting puberty, many of the kids their age were becoming more distant. At home in the mansion and even in his football team, there had always been a lot more closeness. It seemed to be something that came with age, some sense of shame. Flash was under no such illusion, no amount of testosterone made him want hugs and hand holding any less. He treasured the warmth, felt deprived without it.

Moments before reaching the door, Flash started sniffling and wiping at his face. Willow caught on immediately, telling him where he could go to clean himself up. A blessing, to be considered. Flash nodded without saying anything, and once inside, he followed her instruction. Like most bathrooms, this one had a mirror, though besides that it looked quite a bit different. Flash couldn’t pretend to have been over at many people’s houses himself, but most of them had been either family or kids from Durham. Mansions and summer homes. He realized that besides the faculties at the boarding schools he’d lived in, he wasn’t sure what exactly made a bathroom look ‘normal’.

It hardly mattered anyway, the feeling it gave him was cozy comfort. There were no brand names or harsh fluorescent light, but strong smells and homemade looking concoctions all around. Resisting the urge to paw through everything, Flash instead used the tap to wash his face lightly, fixing his hair and looking more fresh. He knew that technically it wasn’t likely that her parents would care whether he cried, he still didn’t like the idea of something like that being known. Perhaps it was wrong for him to think that way, but the ability to erase it from his face took any latent anxiety he might have had off of his shoulders.

Not having taken very long, though abandoning his jacket on a convenient coat rack in the foyer, Flash followed the sound of music to find the kitchen. There, even more smells invaded his senses, strong ones from every side. Trying to take in all the detail, he felt completely out of his depth. It looked nothing like any kitchen he had ever seen, inundated with what seemed like endless supplies of everything imaginable. He wondered how anyone even had enough space in their brain to keep so many things together and sorted. Letting the particulars go, he instead let himself enjoy the heavenly mixture of earthy tones, sweetness, and spice. Like he was floating, he found himself by Owena, whose voice had been the one levitating the moment to a dreamlike status.

Willow asked for Flash’s help at her side, to which Owena explained a simple procedure. It was desserts, apparently, though it looked like nothing at the moment. He knew cooking could be transformative, and that before and after the process the product could look very different, but he couldn’t fathom how a floppy sheet was going to become a dessert. At Owena’s beckoning, Flash stood still as she tossed an apron over his head and started tying up the back for him. It was tan and plain, though the fabric was durable. It looked handmade, though the distinction wasn’t one he was an expert in making.

She and Willow both gave him the straightforward instruction, a spoon being placed in his hand. Flash looked at it without much of an expression on his face, assuming it was a tablespoon and that two of them were good. He watched Willow ‘fill in’ one herself, just as he had watched her make the crown. Serious, calculating… it seemed easy enough. He worried there might be some hidden pitfall that would have him end up destroying Owena’s food somehow, but he hoped that if he made some misstep that Willow would be there to guide him back onto the right path. Most of his anxiety had completely fallen away by then, he was instead starting to fill up with a much softer, warmer feeling. It was love, most likely.

The two continued their back-and-forth before the two of them were left to finish the task alone. At the start, Flash was hyper focused on getting exactly two tablespoons, no more or less, though with the way Willow scooped, it seemed to be more of a suggestion, unlike potion making. With his shoulders all but completely relaxed, Willow continued the conversational atmosphere by asking Flash about his siblings. It was no surprise, family did seem to be the topic of the day, and he had only just recently been reunited with… most of them.

”They’re… yes. My brother Darius picked me up, and my sister Marius greeted me when I came home.” It wasn’t much of an answer, more of a report. ”My oldest brother won’t be by the house until late, I’m sad to say I won’t be seeing him much. My littlest brother is mostly being taken care of by a nanny.”

Flash knew these weren’t very satisfying answers, but his summer so far had not exactly been very satisfying. This had been the highlight for sure.

”To be honest, we don’t spend much time together in the house. We mostly do our own thing, everyone is very… busy.” It was the truth, but Flash didn’t like the image it painted. He didn’t want Willow to think he lived in a cold household, the Holmwoods were all nearly equally affectionate, when they had the time. ”But it’s been lovely seeing them. They’re all doing well. They were happy to see me.”

That was about all he had to say on the subject, his thoughtful eyes keeping track of the filling’s journey from bowl to floppy sheet.

”What exactly… is this thing supposed to be?” His eyes finally moved back up to Willow’s.

@Willow Anderson

Interacting with @Flash Holmwood

Flash seemed to be exceptionally quiet, but that's how he always was. He always listened, observed, learned. Willow was on to speak to learn, to ask questions and be the one to be wrong first and move past it. To be wrong was akin to a crime to Flash it seemed. To misstep was the worst he could do. He could tell in how he acted during rituals or even the moment they just had at the grave. His words were nonchalant about his worried failure, about not being good enough. But his movements gave him away. In this moment, scooping after Willow had. After she made the first move. It was an early on realization that Willow found out how carefully she had to watch him to figure out what was actually happening. He laced his words with believable lies and emotions that quickly fell away once meaningfully prodded enough, or they would just be covered up more. His body language usually followed suit but there were moments, like this, that Willow could catch on to. While he listened, she watched.

This would always become especially apparent when his family talked. Willow asking if they were happy, how they were doing, he stuck to the facts. Who was home, when he saw them, what they do. It was only at the end of the a very short lookover on his family that he talked about their emotions. Willow couldn't help but scrunch her eyebrows together in thought, trying to figure out what they would mean for what his family was like but she simply didn't know enough. "So you never really do stuff with them? Like, even when you came home there wasn't.. even maybe a meal that you ate together?" Even though Willow had only been gone for a few months it was an occasion to welcome her back. Her parents brought her balloons and a new stuffed animal when she arrived to the train station. They went to her favorite place to eat. They spent the night by the fire together, Willow regaling them with stories of her Hogwarts adventures. Ever since they had been practically inseparable.

As they were finishing up, Flash asked what the dessert was supposed to be. So, she did what any good scientist would do to discover something and spooned some of the mixture into her mouth. "I taste... cinnamon... little bits of apple and... pear? Maybe? Some brown sugar for sweetness based on color. So some type of fruity sugary turnover." She beamed, proud of herself.

She heard the door open and close and barely looking over her shoulder, she shouted lightly. "Dad? You home?" The glorious voice of Dorion rang back in a singsong tone. "I am~ I know you all missed me!" There was a murmured conversation about something between her parents happening in the entryway. "You know you can actually cook these over a campfire? It's pretty cool. Here I'll show you how to close them up since they're all filled." She grabbed them two forks, folding one diagonally and crimping it down with the fork. "It doesn't have to be perfect. Just nicely closed!"

Her parents entered side by side into the kitchen, her dad depositing a canvas bag full of vegetables onto the counter. "If it's not perfect, we like to call it rustic. Perfect is rarely achieved when there's always improvement to be done. Is this your first time baking Flash?" Willow casted him a look, he knew not to talk about it. She sent him an owl about it, but sighed. Her voice dropped in a whisper. "I promise I told them about your history of lack of cooking. I think he's just trying to talk."

Her dad, literally in the same room, responded. "Willow, your whispering voice needs some work." He couldn't help but bellow a hearty dad chuckle. "Ok, so no cooking talk. Got it. Tell me about Hogwarts then, I've heard it all from Willow but what are your favorite parts of it?" Owena walked back in the room to start on the dinner, and she briefly paused to look over at the desserts. "Oh, you guys are doing a great job." She walked over towards Dorion to wash the food before setting up a chopping area. "I'd also like to hear about your time at Hogwarts, Willow mentioned that you had um... wizard knowledge I suppose I could put it that way. Did it live up to expectations?" The parents were idly working around the kitchen, pots being put on, liquids being poured, spices grabbed from their immense pantry, but they were actively listening and would glance over to Flash every now and again if he were to speak for a bit.

Flash looked a bit weary at first, but became hopeful when Willow mentioned meals, like a thief hearing a guard hand over a good excuse for trespassing.

"Yes, we always eat breakfast and dinner together." Flash gave a smile of relief. By giving a positive, it would likely give an overall better impression of his family's closeness. Though... 'always' might have been hyperbole. "For lunch we're all out doing something else. Riding, working, doing chores. I often just go to the kitchens and ask for something simple and healthy."

Despite going on a bit of a tangent, he didn't mind sharing a few small details about himself with Willow that he would otherwise find irrelevant. He couldn't fathom why, but it seemed some people also wanted to know irrelevant things about him, and not just what value he had to them. He couldn't pretend to have the same amount of interest in the mundane as they did.

She spooned some of the mixture into her mouth, guessing the flavor thoughtfully. It reminded Flash of her birthday, and the taste test they did then. That had been Owena's cooking as well, but he never actually tasted them. In fact, that day was the last thing he ever wanted to think about again. Despite the pleasant scene, a wave of guilt overcame him, one that made him feel suddenly very out of place. Willow accepted him as her family, but did he honestly accept her as his? Wasn't there always a part of him that felt like he was an invader?

He tried to remember what she had said only moments earlier. That she loved him. The ideas fought in his mind indolently, neither one fully committing to killing the other. His face remained placid as Willow concluded her best guess. He couldn't say he was overly fond of cinnamon nor fruit tarts. When she beamed at him proudly, he mustered a look of surprise. He supposed it was probably a good skill to be able to identify foods by taste like that. Flash himself had never had a very adventurous taste, he generally liked food that wasn't messy and gave him what he needed. Protein, iron...

Luckily, he didn't have to concoct a response, because Dorion reigned in all the attention when he returned home. Willow called out to him, and Owena went to speak with him out of earshot. Willow drew his attention back with the next step of the process: securing the pastry. She told him it didn't need to be perfect, but he didn't see why he shouldn't still do his absolute best. With the fork he pressed even lines into the sides, to nearly robotic precision.

Meanwhile, Dorion entered with produce, something Flash was quite a bit more interested in. He looked over what he had procured, but there was pretty much no vegetable he didn't like. Then again, he had always eaten professionally cooked meals, so he wasn't exactly sure what to expect at all. What if he somehow ended up not being able to stomach what they cooked? There's no way... Willow says Owena's cooking is great...

He was addressed then, bringing up the elephant in the room. Willow expressed having told him not to mention it, but he thought the adult had the right idea in that situation. He felt out of place. It wasn't like it wasn't obvious. Better to just rip it off like a plaster.

"It's okay, Willow." With the arrival with driver, and his full suit, he didn't think he was fooling anyone into thinking that he didn't eat with a silver spoon. Still, the subject changed. It seemed like he was making small talk, asking him about Hogwarts.

"Hogwarts is nice." Flash looked at the ceiling pensively, he hadn't actually given much thought to going there. It had simply been the next step in his life. He wasn't exactly fond of the danger they had been exposed to, though he contributed that more towards the inherent evil in the world than the school itself. Athantos, hags. The fact that there was a malevolent force out to hurt people had always been a problem to solve. "I like getting to attend Quidditch games. I heard a dueling tournament would take place next year as well. I think the events where everyone gathers together are the most fun."

Owena started washing the vegetables, their end product a distant dream. She asked as well, wondering about his 'wizarding knowledge'. Though he was hardly a seasoned traveler of wizarding haunts, he was certainly more knowledgeable than any of them. They likely knew little more than what the Professor visiting their home told them, or what frantic over-exaggerations Willow told them.

"I knew what to expect. Both my older brothers went there, as well as my mother." Now that the dessert was finished, he folded his hands in his lap, his apron still clean. "There are only so many wizarding schools around, it takes a lot of resources to train young wizards. It can be dangerous when you give children power, and there are..."

Flash trailed off as he spoke, realizing this answer was a bit too... real, perhaps. He was about to talk about how desirable young wizards were as targets for the dark arts. Impressionable. Volatile. Full of emotion. Confused. It was a gamble to gather and practice magic, it always had been throughout history, yet mandatory. If a young wizard's magic was not honed, it would basically corrupt them. This was 'wizarding knowledge' he wasn't sure was... pertinent to share.

"There are a lot of troublemakers. Annoying kids. Jinxes and such... are no fun to be on the receiving end of." Flash finished his spiel on a light note, avoiding the topic of actual danger. "Jinxes are the classification for spells that cause minor irritation or inconvenience. We learned about that during first year."

@Willow Anderson