Lancashire Mansion

Scott had heard about the Cruciatus curse, of course he had- it was the go-to empty threat of any wizarding playground. But he'd never heard any actual stories, his mother wouldn't tell him and it never struck him to ask his father, so hearing of this now had him glued to the spot.

The name Rachel was a sad name now, he thought.

"I won't let her die."

He was terrified at this point, but with those words surfaced the vaguest familiarity on her part. The chocolate thief, he thought, stubborn. But it was of course more than that.

Scott tried imagining what it would feel like to have somebody so close to him in such a hospital bed.
It was hard, and unnecessary, but he couldn't not try.

"I don't think I would.. either."

He thought very hard, and spoke very carefully. Almost biting his tongue not to say the wrong thing.

"If it were Ben.. or Silas.." And then he didn't know what to say. It made him a little angry, actually, this was supposed to be something Gryffindors were good at. If not flying, then loyalty. Yet he couldn't with any certainty say what he'd do in her place.

"..Or you." He added instead, wanting to make her feel better in some other way if he couldn't in one. Another attempt in this direction was this gesture: from his pocket he retrieved an almost empty package of Bertle Bott's, and held it forward. It might have felt dumb for anyone else, but to Scott offering her one of those three last beans was the third best thing to do.

The best thing, of course, would have been giving her an actual solution to her problems.

The second-to-best would have been chocolate.

"I don't think I would.. either. If it were Ben.. or Silas..Or you."

Scott handed her a package of almost finished Bertie Bott's, and Mia took the package gratefully. Somehow Scott knew her better than anyone else. She felt a rush of shame run through her body. He was always so considerate, so kind, and here she was, ranting while he was having a tough time with the one person Mia always wanted respect from. Their grandmother. Mia's cheeks flushed red and she reached into the paper package and took out the second to last bean. It was blindingly red, and Mia popped it in her mouth, wrinkling her nose. Cinnamon. Mia coughed and then laughed, throwing her head back. She didn't know why she did it but it was all so stupid. How his minuscule gestures made her day. Mia coughed again and then handed the package back to Scott, a glimmer in her eyes.

"I have something better. Way better. And this time I'll share."

Mia smiled and reached into her pocket. After a minute she pulled out two chocolate frogs. She handed one to Scott and then started unwrapping her own, cupping her hand over the packaging so that the frog would not jump out. She smiled and then looked back up at Scott, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Will you come with me? To visit her?"

Mia bit her lip and looked up at him, hopeful. Maybe he could make everything better. Maybe.

"I have something better. Way better. And this time I'll share."

And out of her pocket she fetched it, chocolate. Chocolate frogs, to be exact, two chocolate frogs still in their wrapper. Scott gladly took one of them, resisting the urge to ask where she'd stolen them. Opening the package up the frog almost escaped, but he cupped his hand around it before it could do so. With his free fingers he retrieved the collectable card from the box. Morgan Le Fay he read, quite pleased with himself as he'd only seen others (who bought these frogs frantically) get her.
As you turned the card to one side the dark witch's body transformed into the body of a bird, and then back again. Mesmerized by this, Scott almost didn't hear Mia's question.

"Will you come with me? To visit her?"

He had quite a delayed reaction, which was probably not what she was hoping for. He forgot all about the card in his hand and looked right back at her.

"To.." And he cursed his slow head before quickly resuming: "Rachel?" The sad name.
"Do you want me to come to St. Mungo's? Because I will! Don't think I won't." He definitely didn't want to look hesitant. He almost pushed his chest forward with the Gryffindor emblem shining like he'd seen his brother Silas do in stead of saying trust me or I'll do it!

"Trust me. I'll do it."

Mia smiled and turned her head so that Scott couldn't see her expression. She loved him more than she could have ever in this moment. She didn't want him to have the satisfaction.

Mia busied herself opening the chocolate frog, and popped it in her mouth, loving the taste. Opening the package that held the card, Mia looked down and saw the name. Minerva McGonogall. Mia had collected all the chocolate frog cards years ago, and kept them in a small chest. She had traded all of her extras away for people that she didn't have, her last acquisition being Adalbert Waffling, a bronze card. She still loved collecting though, but often gave away the chocolate cards for gobstones, or other small items.

Mia turned suddenly towards Scott, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. She never let herself show this much emotion, but Scott..he brought this out in her. Mia's cheeks colored, and she focused on popping the last of the frog in her mouth, and then tearing off Scott's frog's leg. His expression was priceless and Mia snorted in a rather unladylike matter.

"I bought these you know. You're lucky that you even got a mutilated one out of me."

Mia smiled up at Scott, and then looked down, ashamed for wearing her emotions on her sleeve.

She'd kissed him on the cheek only once before. Scott could suddenly remember it very clearly, and that was very convenient because he'd rather think of anything right now but of what face to make.

He had been crying, and from beneath the tablecloth he could hear both his brothers calling his name, and see his father's feet fidget impatiently with the rug by the fireplace.
Although him being curled up there was initially her fault, Mia had crawled down under the table and done just that- kiss him on the cheek. And since kids quickly forget who did what, it was more than possible for both of them to silently agree that it was not Mia who had teased Scott about his missing front teeth, but Maye. Now, wether or not Maye was even actually there that day, Scott couldn't seem to recall. And all he actually felt like remembering, was how he quickly thereafter ran into the bathrooms to check his cheek in the mirror. By that age, Scott thought all girls wore lipstick like his mother- and that their kisses left huge and embarrassing marks on your face.

So almost as by instinct, when she turned away, he rubbed his right cheek fast and subtly. He shouldn't have. The sudden movement seemed to be Mia's cue to snitch the leg off of his chocolate frog. Scott's mouth fell open, and probably made a gawky noise.

"I bought these you know. You're lucky that you even got a mutilated one out of me." Then she snorted.

Thief thief thief.

"I've realized." Scott said, imitating crestfallenness. And although he didn't think she'd take any more, he popped the rest in his mouth just in case. He grinned at her with brown teeth.

"Precaution." He said, the word muffled behind the melted chocolate he now decided to swallow.

And following those lines, he quickly downed the other two remaining beans straight from the package. A risk move, one knows, but the lion on his chest shone bright.

A few seconds later Scott was spitting a bean-and-saliva mixture all over the floor, and wished he'd saved his chocolate frog for last.

Mia laughed and looked at Scott's mixture of chocolate and beans on the floor. Never the squeamish one, Mia just laughed.

"Precaution. Right. I guess you were made for Gryffindor. Foolishly brave. Foolhardy."

Mia rolled her eyes and smiled at her new word. Foolhardy she quite liked it. Her eyes focused on the mess before her and she whipped out her embroidered handkerchief. She let out a pearly white smile, and gestured toward the mess, waving her handkerchief wildly before handing it to Scott in a rather sarcastic manner.

"Mop that up, wont you."

Mia snorted and pulled a piece of a dark brown Chocoball. She bit into it and chewed, turning her head so that she could survey the room. It was black and clean, and Mia liked it. The smell of old books permeated it, and Mia...well Mia liked it. She swallowed and crossed her legs, debating what to say. She decided to brag, just a little.

"You know, I'm a writer now. For the Fanged Post, the Slytherin Newspaper."

Mia smiled and stared up at the high ceiling.

"I've made something of myself...I've succeeded. Grandmum will be proud once I write to her."

Mia turned her head to look at him.

"Have you written to her? Grandmum?"

"Mop that up, won't you?"

Scott made a face at being called something he didn't understand, but took the handkerchief from her anyway. He was sure there was a spell that would do the job for him, his dad used it all the time, but there was no use trying to remember it now.

"You know, I'm a writer now. For the Fanged Post, the Slytherin Newspaper."

Scott smiled, although she probably didn't see that because his face was turned to the floorboards between which saliva made its way.

"I've made something of myself...I've succeeded. Grandmum will be proud once I write to her."

Made something of myself.. Foolhardy.. Scott grinned to himself. She talked like an adult, he always found that funny. He hoped she wrote that way in this newspaper of hers, that's almost something he would read.

"Have you written to her? Grandmum?"

Though this had him turn around. He sort of threw the handkerchief to the side, and wrinkled his nose-as if actually trying to remember wether he had or not.

"No-o.." He said eventually. "I haven't. I always forget. I write a lot of letters to mum and dad but I've hardly sent half of them! That, and it smells so bad there. In the owlery, I mean."

He thought for a moment of what it would be like to do write to his grandmother.. though he'd only ever done so when he was little, because it was considered adorable when small children who could barely hold a pen wrote the family's Christmas card. Merry Krismas. He could hardly write that now.

"I don't think I'd know what to write." He admitted. "What have I made of myself?"
The question didn't sound as rhetorical as he'd imagined, and embarrassed he added: "I'm foolhardy!"

Mia laughed at his use of the word foolhardy. Obviously he had no idea what she meant. Mia tilted back and stared up at the ceiling, trying not to laugh. He could be so...silly at times. A wiry nervous boy, trying not to offend everyone.

"Recklessly bold, or rash. Irresponsible, impulsive, hotheaded, impetuous, bullheaded, daredevil, devil-may-care, madcap, harebrained, precipitate, hasty."

She stared down at him on the floor.

"Thats what it means."

Mia pivoted herself and looked down at the sandy-haired boy on the floor. She cracked a small smile.

"And you have made something of yourself. You made friends. Close ones. Bonds. That's more I have done."

Mia turned away and smiled sadly, knowing that he couldn't see her face. That he didn't know what she was going through. Maybe he did know. Maybe he sensed it in his weird Scott way. She was lonely. She didn't make friends easily, like he did. She made acquaintances easily.

"Tell her that. Tell her that you made friends. And that you are making excellent marks. And tell her that you're in Gryffindor. She loves you. She's not going to send you a Howler for doing something wrong. She's not a monster."

"Of course not! I know that." He said to her. "And you know I might.. About the marks, anyway, because they're better than I'd first expected and I know she cares about that sort of thing. Would be nice to tell her, I think."

Then he took a little longer look at her and could see she was sad. She was smiling, but that's something people do, Scott's noticed, when they're secretly sad. It's a very terrible sort of sad because it makes it harder for people like him to know what's wrong, or what to say. All he could really know was that he didn't like her face as it was now and that he wanted her to smile.

"Though when it comes to my friends, I think I should get their names all sorted out in my head before I even begin to try and to spell them!" He said. "Arabella and Mardella. Would you believe? Might not be hard for you but to me that's.. well, difficult. Very! Although I might not be trying my hardest. I'd say I'm saving it up, you never know."

He looked at her and smiled as best he could. He didn't know why she was sad.

"If I did write about them, maybe Grandmother would invite my friends to Lancashire as she does yours?"

Mia didn't know what to respond so she just laughed. That was Scott. Trying to make her feel better by criticizing his own skills. He was...something. She just nodded and looked up at the ceiling. The walls seemed to cave in on her and she shivered. She knew it was just a hallucination, the doctors said low blood pressure combined with gastroesophageal problems, so Mia waited for the world to bend back to its normal shape. She was sick and tired of everything. Grandmother, this room, her life, but she couldn't show it. He would worry. She didn't deserve someone like him. She knew that. But he was there. Through the toxicity, he was there. She blinked and looked back at him, looking him up and down. He must have noticed her absent mindedness by now, but she had to distract him. Pointing over at the cello in the corner of the room, Mia smiled at him.

"Remember how much Mum, or your Aunt Marisa, forced me to play instruments? And how I hated every single second of it, but you'd crack jokes while I'd practice so that it was all ok? And during the recitals you'd make funny faces at me? And when I picked up two more, you.."

Mia smiled and blinked back tears. Her voice trembled and she cleared her throat.

"I wish we could go back to that."