Owl to Susan Sto Helit (closed RP for Susan and Charles Macaulay)

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

((Backdated to just after Henry Winter and Camilla Macaulay's wedding.))



Charles was antsy and bored and wearing a trench in the stone floor of his room from pacing. He needed distraction, somebody to talk to so he could avoid thinking about the honeymoon. Camilla would come back, yes, and his plan could go forward; but for now the fact that she was with Henry, on a honeymoon, was driving Charles crazy. But drink he would not, not after the last time. That just led to mistakes, and Charles refused to make mistakes. Not now. Not this time.

Which mean he couldn't go to Francis. Francis would just encourage him to drink. Or more. More was not a good idea. Richard was out, either - Charles was in no mood to deal with his unrequited melancholy over Camilla. This did not strike him as ironic in the least.

Charles was at a loss: he needed somebody, a friendly face. Someone who could take his mind off of what was likely happening in a hotel room in Mykonos. It occurred to him, somewhat belatedly and after some thought, that there just might be someone who could do that.

Susan. Camilla's friend and maid of honor.

Granted, he'd only just met her, but he'd liked her. Really liked her, not in a sexually predatory way but as a potential friend, and Charles had forgotten how good simple friendship could feel. It had been years since there'd been anyone who was just his friend. She'd seemed to like him, too. Maybe she'd be willing to help take him out of himself, stop him from sabotaging everything he wanted and ruining everything he'd risked.

Maybe she'd know what Camilla was doing.

With this in mind, he sent her an owl, carrying a bag of mini-marshmallows:

Susan,

Come to Hogsmeade with me for some hot chocolate and a change of scenery?

Charles

((Edited for more clarity on Charles' thinking. Shouldn't affect the actual RP at all. :) ))

Comments

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Now that the wedding was over, Susan felt like she could let herself go a little. She'd been operating at something close to a fever pitch since Halloween, doing her (admittedly not very helpful) best to make things as easy for Camilla as she could, all the while trying to assimilate much of what had hit her on Halloween. Between that and her bouts of Dreamless Sleep-potion sedated unconsciousness, she was thankful indeed when Camilla and Henry were safely away, so she need do nothing at all.

Doing nothing at all was not something Susan was accustomed to, though, and as a result she was soon both bored and lonely, as well as tired. Charles's owl was a surprise, and definitely a welcome one--she'd liked him immensely, which was rare for her, and it occurred to her that with his sister away, perhaps he was as bored and lonely as she. So she dug out parchment and jotted an owl back:

Charles,

I like the sound of that. Where should we meet?

-Susan

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

(( Okay, substitute!Charles reporting for duty. I'm not going to change anything in the post Penny wrote, but there may be minor inconsistency between what she wrote and what I play.))

At Hampden, Charles had favored local holes-in-the-wall, places his friends would never be likely to turn up; places where the matronly barmaids would think he was a Mormon missionary because he was wearing a suit. He hadn't ever gone to Hogsmeade for the purpose of painting the town red, but if he were to frequent any place there, it'd probably be the Hog's Head.

He could make a good impression when he wanted. There were ways and ways of making a good impression, however -- there were subtleties of perception to consider. Things one person would find indecorous, another person might find quaintly bohemian, or excitingly dangerous, or not in any way remarkable.

Susan was a woman with black-and-white hair who wore black to a wedding where she was the maid of honor.

Charles wrote:

The Hog's Head. I'll meet you in the Ravenclaw common room and we can walk together, if that suits you. Doing anything this afternoon?

- Charles

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Susan had heard of the Hog's Head--it sounded a lot like Biers, her favorite pub back on the Discworld, where nobody paid undue attention to anyone else. It certainly had to be better than Madam Puddifoot's, she thought, with a wry smile.

Charles,

Sounds like a good plan to me. No, I haven't got anything planned for this afternoon; honestly, I'm a bit bored with Camilla and Henry away.

-Susan

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

Common room at 3 pm, then? It gets dark earlier and earlier.

-Charles

When he showed up, he was neatly dressed if a little threadworn: one of Francis's old suits, altered to fit, and the same white dress shirt he'd worn to the wedding, with a very nice tie that also had once belonged to Francis. However, one thing was conspicuously absent: he wore no kind of winter coat or gloves, no hat, nothing against the Scottish winter chill.

He was whistling Camptown Races. "Hullo," he said cheerily.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Charles,

That works for me. See you then.

-Susan

Susan normally paid very little attention to her clothes, but even she realized that actually going somewhere necessitated something other than her worn skirts and shirts (many of which bore a few interesting stains). She did have some decent clothes, and after rummaging in her closet had actually managed to procure some--a soft cashmere dress that she couldn't remember buying. Black, naturally, along with her rather worn cloak (she really did need to get a nicer coat, sooner or later) and gloves.

"Hi," she said, immediately noticing his lack of winter attire. "Aren't you going to be cold?"

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

Charles gave a pleasant little laugh. "Fair point. Maybe the pub hasn't stocked up on firewood this early in the winter. You're smart to have bundled up."

Which wasn't the answer she was probably expecting, but she'd see soon enough what he meant.

"I don't guess it's very cold in Greece even this time of year," he mused, his smile fading to a somber look. "Cold enough though. They weren't planning on snorkeling or anything, were they?"

Of course they weren't. He just wanted to see if Susan knew what they were planning on doing. Besides the things he didn't want to think about, that they didn't have to go to Greece to do -- that he was sure they did all the time anyway. He'd actually cussed Henry out for it once (drunk outside the classroom, ranting: isn't that what you do to my sister every night? His attitude then had been a mistake, Charles could see that now, a tactical mistake, though eminently understandable and reasonable surely.)

He had turned away from Susan as he said the last, and he was waiting for her to join him before setting off down the corridor. It was convenient this meant she wouldn't see his face when he spoke of the honeymoon.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

"I go outside quite a bit," she said, following. "I learned the hard way that Scottish winters are rather damper than where I come from, and that damp seems to sink right into your bones."

Susan had very little idea where Greece even was, but she'd been given to understand that it was in a place rather warmer than Scotland. "I doubt it," she said. "They both seem to be museum types. Can you imagine Henry trying to snorkel in a suit?" She couldn't--the idea of Henry in casual clothes or some kind of swimsuit just Did Not Compute. Susan herself had never really thought of the other aspect of their lives, even though she had certain intimate knowledge of Camilla in that context, at least. That, however, was definitely not something she was about to impart to, well, anyone. The thought that Charles might have ulterior motives for asking was not one that occurred to her at all--much like his sister, he could be disarming without even trying.

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

Well, now, that mental image was well and truly amusing, and therefore eminently welcome. Charles chuckled -- a lower echo of his sister's familiar sweet little chuckle. "No, I guess not. Poor old Henry. His idea of fun might leave something to be desired. When Camilla was a kid she'd probably have swum halfway around the island. Guess she's really grown up now."

No condemnation implied, but more than a little sadness -- and the clear implication Charles didn't necessarily think that growing up was the be-all and end-all of human achievement.

"The museums must be something, though," he continued, walking along companionably with Susan, leading her up to nowhere other than the Room of Requirement. "Lots of fascinating ancient things. There are temples on the nearby island, you know. Delos. A lot of history there."

Charles knew about having a lot of history.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

"From what I saw of Camilla as a child, I'd believe it," she said. "Did she tell you about the incidents with the chocolates? She and I both turned into children a while back, thanks to those damned enchanted chocolates. A boy made her angry, so she climbed up into a tree and wouldn't come down, despite Silas's pleading." The memory of the giant monk entreating Camilla to get out of the tree was one that made Susan smile even yet.

She thought she vaguely recognized their way, but only vaguely--she'd only been to the Room of Requirement once, for the wedding itself. "I have to admit, my knowledge of this world's history is spotty at best. I've read a bit about the Napoleonic wars, your First World War--quite a bit about that--but beyond that I know very little."

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

... Yes, Charles remembered very well one of the incidents with the chocolates. He hadn't known about the chocolates themselves at the time. He'd simply come across a seven-year-old Camilla, wandering the hallways, like a ghost materialized from his memory by magic -- and, of course, it was magic. He hadn't been able to tell little Camilla that.

"She didn't tell me the part about the tree," he said, sounding more nostalgic than anything else. "She used to climb trees like a raccoon when we were kids. I always thought it was because she didn't want to be left behind. But I did know she'd turned into a child a while back. We played Go Fish." He chuckled. "Don't tell me she dragged you into something too. And I feel sorry for the little boy, whoever it was."

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Susan laughed. "Go Fish? It would have been better for everyone if we'd all found something as innocuous as that. She didn't drag me into anything--unfortunately, I got into enough trouble on my own, leading a little squad of other children to attack the Whomping Willow with croquet mallets." Hey, it had seemed like a good idea at the time. "Needless to say, we lost."

From the sound of it, Charles had seen Camilla even less than Susan had, lately. It made sense--Camilla and Henry had both been insanely busy with wedding plans, and Susan knew full well she was worse than useless when it came to that sort of thing. While she had actually missed very few people in her life, she could nevertheless understand the feeling.

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

"... Okay, I know what the Whomping Willow is, but why did you lead an attack on it? What did it ever do to you?" He affected a tone of mild reproach. "Good thing we have a decent hospital wing here." Charles knew that from firsthand experience, unfortunately. "Ah, here we are."

He walked in front of the door the requisite three times before opening it to reveal a Room of Requirement quite different from the festive chamber where the wedding had been held. It looked like a big warehouse full of forgotten things, or like a particularly capacious attic. "It's just a passageway," he explained, holding the door open for Susan. "The point of it's here," following her inside and letting the door close before crossing the room to a wall hanging behind which was --

-- another door.

Which led to a real passageway, this time, and where they ended up was the upstairs sitting room of the Hog's Head Tavern (http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizworld/places/hogs_head.html#inside).

"Here we are. There are guest rooms down the hallway. They're not recommended very highly. But if you ever wondered what was upstairs in the Hog's Head, now you know."

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Susan smiled, slightly wryly. "A friend of mine and I attacked it (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1177248.html#cutid1) this last Valentine's Day, and it was unreasonable enough to defend itself," she said. "My child-self thought revenge with a croquet mallet was perfectly logical. Then again, my child-self was also five years old at the time." She'd been a violent little thing, when angry--all the more so because all that violence had been compacted into a creature three feet tall.

She watched, bemused, as Charles paced in front of the door to the Room of Requirement. She followed him through the strange, warehouse-like room, and actually laughed when they emerged at the Hog's Head. That was a trick she'd never even heard about, let alone seen. "Now I see why you didn't need a coat," she said, glancing up and down the hallway. "How on earth did you find out about this? I had no idea, and I know a fair amount of little tricky shortcuts through the castle."

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

"That doesn't answer why you attacked it in the first place, just removes the event a step," Charles pointed out, amused (his amusement, and his frank curiosity, so much like his sister's).

He led her down the stairs and into the main room of the tavern. All told he was rather pleased with himself. He'd elicited a reaction as favorable as he could hope -- a real laugh, even. In a way he really was innocently proud of having found out this little secret passageway, and wanted to show it off, the way he and his friends had once showed off Francis's country house -- something special, only shown to the initiated, like a treehouse.

"Never ask a lady how old she is, and never ask a gentleman how he knows the fastest way to the cheapest bar in town," he said with a mischievous (and quite boyish) grin. "Question is, did you remember the marshmallows I sent you? Because I think they've got cocoa but I wouldn't hold my breath waiting for fixings. Cinnamon's right out."

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Susan's memories of why the tree had been attacked were hazy at best--something she had inhaled had made her not only unable to shut up, but unable to filter what came out of her mouth. "I don't really remember," she said. "I popcorned once, and the first round of chocolate-induced childhood--I've gone through two, now--made me forget even more. Something to do with one a prank pulled at the party, that irritated me immensely."

She smiled again at his prevarication. "All right, I won't ask," she said, and actually produced the marshmallows from her pocket. "I figured these might be necessary. I dno't know if the wizarding world even has proper marshmallows." The Disc certainly didn't; she herself had only discovered them through Shaun.

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

"Maybe not proper, but magically delicious," Charles quipped, then smacked his own forehead showily. "Of course -- you wouldn't know the commercial. It's an advertisement for a cereal for kids. We did watch television when we were kids, you know, even if you wouldn't know it from the way my sister acts nowadays. Anyway the cereal's called Lucky Charms, and it's got multicolored marshmallows in it. Little crunchy ones. I don't know that they'd be any good in cocoa. But the catchphrase for the cereal was 'magically delicious' because of the marshmallows, because they were supposed to be put there by a leprechaun. See, where I come from, we don't have Care of Magical Creatures. Gosh, the wizarding world probably has debates over leprechaun rights or something."

He pictured leprechauns picketing the first wizarding grocery insensitive enough to stock Lucky Charms.

"I'm babbling," he said, scratching the back of his head with a rueful smile. "Too glad to have company for my own good. Why don't you sit down," gesturing to a table with not so much grease glazing its surface as the others in its vicinity, "and I'll go see about some cocoa. Want schnapps in yours? I don't imbibe strong stuff myself, these days."

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

At least Susan knew what television was, and what commercials were, or she would have been utterly lost. Cold cereal was not something she was really familiar with, but she could follow the thread, more or less. In any event, he'd made her laugh again, which was quite an achievement. "Crunchy marshmallows sound vaguely...wrong," she said, taking a seat. "I wonder if the real leprechauns did it on purpose." The table was no greasier than the counter at Biers--rather less so, in fact; Biers had to contend with all sorts of foreign substances unheard of even in the wizarding world.

"Yes, please," she said. "Not much, though--too much alcohol kills the chocolate." She found herself wondering why he would have quit drinking--her own tolerance being what it was, she couldn't understand most people's reactions (or likes and dislikes) concerning hard liquor. She just hoped she wouldn't make a massive inhumanity-caused flub, as she so often seemed to do. If she did, perhaps it could be blamed on alcoholic cocoa.

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

Too much alcohol killed the chocolate? Too much alcohol killed a lot of things. That was the whole point of too much alcohol. Charles sauntered off to the bar, where the bartender -- as grizzled as the tables were greasy -- gave him the requested cocoa. He probably thought the doctored-up cocoa was for Charles and the straight stuff for the lady. In truth Charles wasn't finding it hard to refrain. He liked being in a bar, even when he couldn't drink, the same way he liked being around Camilla even when he couldn't touch her. Bars felt like home. Camilla felt like home.

"This one's yours," he said as he placed a mug in front of Susan. "A middling shot of peppermint schnapps is in it. I'm reasonably sure it really is peppermint schnapps and not, say, mouthwash." And may Susan never learn that Charles actually had drunk mouthwash a time or two. "When you drink in a place like this," he explained once he'd sat down across from her with his own cocoa and could lean across the table to speak in a near-whisper, "you're serious about your liquor. And about not being cheated."

He was pretty sure Milly would have complained to her friend about her drunken reprobate of a brother. May as well get it all up front.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Bars were also home to Susan, in a way--well, one bar was, and this one was rather like it. At Biers she didn't have to try to be normal--at Hogwarts the idea of 'normal' was not nearly so onerous as in Ankh-Morpork, but there was still a standard. Here, her instinct told her she didn't have to try.

She laughed as Charles gave her her drink. "I know," she said, just as quietly. "This place reminds me of my favorite pub back home. In Biers, it always paid to order something clear, because Igor--that was the barman--would stick almost anything on the end of a cocktail stick." Occasionaly the regulars would place bets as to what disgusting thing they'd find next.

Susan herself was not one to talk of being a drunk--some of the stupider things she'd done here had been done under the influence of quite a lot of alcohol, not to speak of how much she'd drank when Stephen had been most pointedly Not Speaking to her. Both Shaun and Liz had been rather appalled, even knowing her tolerance.

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

"Some time you're going to have to tell me your most alarming garnish story," Charles said. "For now, we've got marshmallow garnish, right?" Amiably he pushed his mug in her direction so she could drop mini-marshmallows into it.

"What I really like about a place like this is no questions asked. You have the money to pay, you have the sense to keep from getting in fights, you can stay as long as you want. No one cares where you came from. No one cares why you're here." He spoke with a kind of measured calm, a little lighter than words like that might be expected to sound -- almost as though he were talking about someone else and not himself. Maybe he was. He'd hit rock-bottom in Texas and he was building himself back up, wasn't he? For Camilla. And to show her and Henry both who was really the better man. He'd been self-disciplined for quite a few months now, with only a couple of trivial exceptions marring his recent record. He'd done this once before, after Henry Winter had died and the twins had gone back to Virginia. But Camilla hadn't made it worth his while in the end. She'd been too cold. He'd needed warmth from somewhere.

He was stronger now. He could make enough warmth for himself and his sister both; he'd warm her too, melt her.

"I'm glad you remembered the marshmallows," he said, looking up from his cocoa to meet Susan's eyes with a candid sad smile. I'm glad you're here.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

"Most alarming? I don't know, it might put you off your drink entirely," she said, dividing the minimarshmallows until both their cups were obscured by them.

Charles might as well have been describing Biers itself. "Exactly," she said. "Everyone will leave you alone--you don't have to put up a front for anyone." Once in a blue moon she had to deal with a bogeyman who was new in town, and thus didn't know any better (at which point they learned better, pretty damn quick), but beyond that she could enjoy her drink and her time in peace. Susan herself had hit rock-bottom on Halloween, when she'd actually degenerated into near-murder, and while she felt no need to quit drinking, she could, if she'd known, understand the sentiment quite well.

She knew nothing of Charles's thoughts concerning his sister, but, much like Camilla, his smile was infectious--it was warmer than Camilla's, too, without the strange aloof quality that infused so many of Camilla's. "Of course I did," she said. "I've discovered that cocoa isn't proper cocoa without them." It really was an odd thing, that she could feel so comfortable around him when she'd really only just met him--she hadn't really realized that it was because many of Charles's unconscious mannerisms were very much like Camilla's. It gave the impression that she'd known him much longer than she actually had.

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

"Well, I don't have any objections to improper cocoa," Charles volleyed back, the sadness fading out of his smile (had it ever been there?) displaced by the sanguine good humor of which he was intermittently capable. "Cocoa that doesn't have to put up a front for anyone either."

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Susan was fully aware that she herself often didn't stop to realize just what some of the things she said might sound like, and she thought that perhaps Charles did the same thing at times, too. Certainly he didn't look as though he'd meant it to come off as it had, and it made her smile.

"No, indeed it does not," she said, with a gravity that was somewhat betrayed by the undeniable amusement in her eyes. "It's its own excuse, really. Normally I only drink cocoa when I'm extremely out of sorts--it's nice to have it when I'm not, for once." Well, all right, that was a lie, but it was a white lie, and therefore all right. In a sense she was putting up a front, just not in the way she ordinarily felt compelled to do--though she didn't know it, it was much the same sort of front as Charles himself often projected.

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

No, he was the very picture of well-meaning innocence, clear gray eyes empty of guile. It was why when he did say something that could be taken with double entendre, the remark could be so devastatingly effective. Did he mean it? Did he not? Did it matter? In truth, like his sister, Charles didn't have to try. The twins made their careless way through the world like a cat in a china shop: graceful, yet prone to wanton destruction.

And sometimes unwittingly goofy.

"Scotland in wintertime is enough to make any warm-blooded animal out of sorts," he joked. "I went to college in Vermont. I got to like any and all hot drinks. It's good one of us isn't out of sorts, anyway, at least. I'll admit that Camilla's wedding took a lot out of me." Which was true. "You know, like the day after Christmas. It's a bit of a letdown. All the excitement's over." Which was ... less true. He essayed a sip of his cocoa and found it not so hot as to be rendered undrinkable. "And I have to say I'm a little jealous --" which was true -- "they're soaking up comparatively more sun in Greece, whereas here I'm starting to wonder if the Hat has a spare stash of mittens and scarves anywhere around."

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

"Where is Vermont, exactly?" Camilla and Henry had both mentioned it in passing, and while Susan knew it was in America, that didn't tell her much. So far as America went, to her mind, it was a big blob of a continent across the ocean.

She sipped at her cocoa, unwittingly giving herself a marshmallow mustache, which she wiped away somewhat sheepishly. "It was rather...draining, wasn't it? Especially coming so soon after Halloween--were you affected by Halloween, at all? Camilla and Henry didn't even know about it, but some of my friends and I most certainly did." Lucky them. "I hope they're enjoying Greece, at least, even if I don't really even know where that is, either."