(1938-12-21) Nothing Left To Catch
Details for Nothing Left to Catch
Summary: Jenny and Duncan have a..less than pleasant talk and Silas has some awkward timing. Choas and angst within.
Date: 1938-12-21
Location: Three Broomsticks Pub

Despite the obvious patina of age, The Three Broomsticks has a warm, inviting ambiance. This character the pub has attained is, no doubt, thanks to the years it has been steeped in the environment of this particular village. Just one evidence of the village's influence on the pub can be seen in the dark paneling inside the building. The wood was once the outer walls of the home that housed Hogsmeade's founding family. Put to good use once again after the founding family bequeathed it to the pub, the paneling has served the pub just as well as it once served Hogsmeade's founders. The Three Broomsticks has flourished under its current proprietor and is always open and ready for a customer or visitor.
The dark wood surface of the floor glows with a polished sheen from much cleaning, and exposed ceiling rafters, which appear to be original, cross the ceiling in tidy squares. Wood tables of varying sizes litter the room, and matching chairs are scattered among them. Several secluded booths fill up the space along one wall. A flavorfully aged mahogany bar takes up most of the space near the back wall with a series of mirrors and shelves of varying heights hanging behind it. Those shelves behind the bar are lined with memorabilia depicting the life and people of the village as well as items which are special mementos to the pub's owner.

With classes out and the majority of the students having left on the first train, Jenny had opted to remain behind with her traveling companion for a quieter ride. So while her things are prepared and waiting and last minute shopping has been handled or at least paused, Jenny's slipped in to the Broomsticks for a drink before she goes, in part because of the letter that's holding a rather tight grip on her thoughts.

Dncan had spotted Jenny the moment he heads out to the pub area from the Inn. He pauses for just a moment, something keeping down that exhuberance of seeing her, so he merely walks to the bar, giving her a nod and smile as he sits, waving her over looking over his shoulder, "Jenny, sit with me?" His tone was a little bit glum. Leave it to the holidays to remind you why you stay away from your overadoring parents.

"Potter," the girl greets, when she realizes that she's been both spotted and more, he's hailing her over. "Sure." But it's a little indecisive, as if she isn't sure whether or not it's a good idea. With an irish whiskey in hand, the tall Chaser trudged over and settled down into a seat opposite the professional beater. At least with all the students gone home or most of them, the crowd inside the Broomsticks was nearly non-existant.

Potter spins his glass of scotch in his hand as she sits down and he looks at her for a few moments after she joins him. "How are you?" He asks, with a shy inquisitive tone. Like something was bothering him and keeping him from being his normal self.

"I'm okay," Jenny replies, sipping at her drink in what could only be considered moderation. "If okay is confused and bothered and generally unsure." Which had her wrinkling her nose. "This really isn't working out, is it? I'm not quite sure how I honestly imagined it would. We never see each other."

He gives a knowing half smile and a nod. He continues spinning his glass on the table in front of him slowly. "No, we don't." He tries to get out here every chance he has. But, not quite able to get out here every hogsmeade weekend, is he?
He sighs at the realization of what she's saying. He was hoping this would have gone a different route. "You ask this right before Christmas break. I guess you can go to France with no guilt now?" He was agitated. It was quick how he turned from trying to hurt, and unconciously taking out frustration on her.
"I'm sorry," he quickly follows, shaking his head and taking down the rest of his drink before puting it back on the table in front of him with a shoft tap.

"How was I supposed to ask you sooner?" Jenny grumps, because that had always been their way, hadn't it? Push and push back. "How do you imagine that I feel? Knowing everything was getting muddled, watching it be and yet…not knowing how to fix it either. I wish you were there. I wish you could be there or I could just be out here, that it'd be alright to kiss you before your games and you didn't have to be some secret. Or wishing sometimes that it was you, who was there to pick me up when I'm feeling terrible."
The girl sighed, "Because I can see the moments, the little steps that lead to this point and it's simple and its stuipd and it makes me needy, because I guess, it's just the notion of having someone who can be there, to reach out and touch. And then I feel guilty and then the little voice in the back of my head gets angry and suggests it shouldn't matter, because you wouldn't have looked at me if it hadn't been for her breaking your heart."

Push. Retort push. "You couldn't. Training is dreadfully taxing on time, and I couldn't be here all the time. And you-" He pauses, she finishes with her speaking of when he would and would not look at her. "Don't you dare say that." Even if it was true, he didn't want to believe it. Because if she was just a rebound from he ex, it was never meant to be in the first place. And that hurt just as much as it not working out if it wasn't, since he can't fix it now anyway.
"Then whatever, run away to paris," he stands up, his fingers leaving his glass as he takes a step backward away from the table. "Have fun." He was done feeling sorry for himself. Burn me once, shame on you. Burn me twice, have to re-evaluate my choices. … there's got to be a shorter version of that phrase. He'll think of it later. But he doesn't walk off just yet, waiting for her to at least have something to say.
Please tell me not to go, ask me to come with you.. ask me to stay here, something! His mind disagreed with his actions.

"Why? Because it might be true? You're the one who told me you didn't think of me until she'd crushed your heart and you still had my letter. It's not as if I get these ideas in my head without help, Duncan." The frustration had lent itself to her tone. "And instead of trying to disabuse me of any of them, you'd rather tell me no and when I don't buy that immediently then you'd rather walk away. Because that just..what, is it easier? Or do you just not care what it is I do?"
There was a glimmer of hurt there simmering in her eyes, a slow burn that for the moment, stayed slow. "Or do you just not care enough to fight anymore? And I am not, incidently, going to Paris. At least, I don't think I am. I'd never fit in there, anyway." She'd a letter that said she wasn't good enough, after all. And never would be. Just something more to add to her guilt.

Duncan turns around. "You think.." he was being self critical at the moment. He'd stopped pushing for the moment, "Maybe I was never in it becuase I'm scared? Like I don't want to be hurt any more? When you said you were going to France, I think I shut you out.." he shakes his head at himself. "Because if you go then, I wanted you to have fun, no lie. But.." he trails off, lifting a hand half-heartedly towards her and unable to say anymore for lack of stuff to say.

"So what about before I told y….," at that point, Jenny seemed to just give up. "I think, that if you can sit there and tell me you were never 'in it' because you were hurt before, then all I ever was to you was something to screw, while you waited for someone better to come along. Because that whole, 'in it' statement far proceeds me making any mention of going to France, you've just summed up our whole relationship like that." The girl frowned, bottom lip tucking in to worry between her teeth.

Duncan shakes his head again, sitting back down, "No.. no that can't be it." He was really bad at this, as always. He crosses his arms on teh table in front of him. It might now be apparent he'd been drinking a lot.. and he smelled like whiskey. The one drink he tried to stay away from becuase it put him in such a down mood, even if he was on top of the world. "I just.. maybe I'm scared we'd make it.. y'know?" He was slurring a bit, too after that double of scotch was downed so quickly. His eyes close and his body shivvers once. He looks at her with concern.

"You're scared we'd make it? That's…the best you've got? Honestly?" Jenny asked with a hint of a frown. "Out of everything, that's it? And you know, I get to be the villian, don't I? Why not, I brought the Lowe girl to heel, by a bloody request. Not force, no blackmail, just a simple fucking question that apparently makes me a terrible person, as if no one in the world is incapable of saying no and I want…something of substance. Don't you? Doesn't the idea of more than a stolen weekend here and there sound like something you would want?"

"You're scared we'd make it? That's…the best you've got? Honestly?" Jenny asked with a hint of a frown. "Out of everything, that's it? And you know, I get to be the villian, don't I? Why not, I brought the Lowe girl to heel, by a bloody request. Not force, no blackmail, just a simple fucking question that apparently makes me a terrible person, as if no one in the world is incapable of saying no and I want…something of substance. Don't you? Doesn't the idea of more than a stolen weekend here and there sound like something you would want?"

Duncan listens to her speak, not knowing the situation with this Lowe girl she mentioned. Her final question makes him just nod solemnly. "Yes. Yes it does." He lifts his eyes from the table to meet hers. "I do want that. And we just.. fly off into the sunset, leave all this crap behind." He had a moment of weakness. And it showed. "I'm sorry. Running isn't my thing, but I've never met up with something I've not been good at.. except this sort of thing." Love? Relationships? He was showing his squishy inside in public. Noone else was in the bar. Okay, so the false security of being alone in an empty bar, but it was a small step. But he was still unsure, she'd be able to see it.

"Well you seemed pretty fucking fine at it with Carter," Jenny all but spat. "Pictures of the pair of you in the papers, are you still hung up on her? I'm not trying to twist things, I am not but I just…I don't want to just be some bedroom styled toy and that's all things amount to when seem to get together. We drink, we go to bed. The weekend's over. And if you want the whole, fly off into the sunset thing, maybe you should attempt a gesture of romanace or something. Something other than, 'hey I see you're upset, let's go to bed', because that makes me feel just about as special as some bloody fangirl who's soul purpose in life is to say she rode a professional dick."

Duncan breathes deep and looks frustrated. It's like she struck on something very deep. His romantic side was not at all developed. But, as she finished, he gradually returned to a state of looking somewhat defeated.
He nods. "You're right. I'm terrible at being romantic." Was he turning a bit red?
"Your christmas present is.. something I thought about cancelling. I guess I hoped you would come back France into my arms, but that's two-faced of me." He was looking at the table in front of him. This was a very delicate part of him. "I'm sorry. /That/ is just… what I learned of romance." More red. "But Your present was going to be something different.. you want to know what it is?"

He was making her feel guilty. Actually, it wasn't very hard work at all. She'd been feeling guilty for days since before she'd tried to tell him she felt confused. "It's not two-faced, I mean, spiteful is the word I would have used but…that doesn't make it any less deserving. Or rather, me undeserving. I didn't mean to make you feel bad, I just…I don't know, D. And while it wasn't my intention to start caring about him, it's just…sort of happened that..I've come to. No matter what I do, someone ends up hurt. Maybe I should just go home for Christmas, stay by myself." At least she was out of that silly uniform. Still in trousers, perhaps, but…there were frills. She looked almost, …nice.

Duncan nods. "And you can't blame either of us. It's a terrible situation. You have something there that I'm not able to do." He reaches into his coat pocket, actually smiling hearing that she cares for someone.
"Someone's always going to hurt. I'm just glad you have someone there now that can catch you." Out of the inner pocket of the coat he wears he produces a small envelope, like one that holds a small card. He sets it on the table, and slides it over to her. "I expect this will be better used for you two." Inside, would be two tickets for the Premier Carriage Rides in the park in London. Set for (not purposefully) two days after she would be returning from France.
He stands again, smiling down at her. "If anyone is going to hurt, I don't want it to be you. I don't blame you. Since you know what you want. I'm still.. learning myself." A sigh in that pause he makes, but puts on a strong smile. "Jenny, if we're to part ways, I want it to be amicable." His mood had changed, like a great weight had been lifted. And that is exactly how he feels. "You just taught me something, that's the best gift ever." He pats his other coat pocket, and the letter that's in there, "And you'll always be with me."

"You don't understand," the girl's smile was oh so bittersweet. "There is nothing to catch. And that it's so bloody easy for you to just, let go? I just, I don't understand how. I used to go to sleep dreaming about what things would be like for us when I finished school, or just…quitting early to be with you. About being something that you could proudly say that you were with. But it feels like the friendship is easier for you. That the relationship? Is…well, whatever it was."
She hadn't picked up the envelope, just looked at it there on the table and when she does get around to it, it's going to feel like an absolute punch in the gut. "But hey," an attempt at a smile, it failed to reach her eyes or warm her face. "Glad you learned something? I think I did too. Maybe you should just, go with him to France for Christmas, he'd never had one before, not a proper one. It's set up to be something…traditional and enjoyable and…and and I should just go."

Duncan shakes his head, "So, what, you're saying you want this? Or something more? I do want something more, as I'm sure you do too. Do you think we could be that? I'm broken, apparently. I have problems. You don't deserve the crap we're going through. I don't deserve someone like you!" He didn't even realize he was shouting. His own shallow views and propensity for the physical was a scar he still bore from good ol Carter. He didn't ever take enough time to heal from that. "I need more time before I'm something someone deserves. You.. you're already-" He stops, he can't say it for the lump in his throat, and he turns halfway to the door, "You look nice, Jenny. Frills work for you." A smile, and he's turning to head towards the door again towards the Inn.

They say if you speak of the Devil, he may appear. At least Muggles say that. Most current witches and wizards might say that of Pringle instead… but today, it would be Silas Meliflua. He had searched much of her common haunts in Hogwarts, and not finding her there, thought of the next best possible location: Hogsmeade. Specifically, the pub. And so it is that he pokes his head in, at that precise moment.
He's, as always, it seems, dressed to the hilt, although it's travel wear, not as much winter wear, this time. House colors all the way through, complete with runic, embroidered snakes slithering all over the place, emerald leather gloves, and matching boots. Of course, he does have a well-worn knapsack over one shoulder, the top flap loose enough that a white-furred, black nosed snout can poke out every once in a while, sniffing the air.
His smile is wide as he catches sight of Jenny… and then less so as he sees Duncan. And drinks. And shouting. And Jenny in frills. For, apparently, Duncan. He coughs, face going beet red for a moment, enough so to show the tiniest shadow of a bruise under his right eye — nearly healed. "Bad timing," he states, blinking, his voice flat.
Sadly, no context for him here.

Men. What Jenny heard was, 'this' clearly wasn't something more, else he'd have said he wanted this. Not made an alternative that was better. And he was shouting. It's not…been the best of weeks. There's a letter burning a hole on the inside of her robe pocket that proves, without a doubt, she really isn't good enough for anybody and the longer she has to think on that, the worse it's making things. In her mind and occasionally, for those around her.
"Join the club," the girl drawls out, when he talks about not deserving her. "Only that's a bit fucking backwards, because I couldn't even do right by some party boy. But I mean, thank you for teaching me the lesson. You screwed her and she broke your heart. So…that's a great lesson to pass around. The cost of innocence is happiness. Merry fucking Chr—-," oh look Jenny can yell too. And! There was Silas. Frying pan, meet fire.
"Can I please get a bottle of Bells over here?" Served like..yesterday.

Well… Silas truly finds himself in a quandary. Immediately, he sees eggshells all around, each potentially hiding something explosive underneath. Coughing slightly, face still heated, he walks toward the two. Somewhere, bells strike the top of the hour.
"Jen. Hey… glad I found you!" Yes. Just stick to the plan… pretend that he didn't just witness… whatever is happening here. "Potter," is offered as a greeting to the older, young man.
He looks back to Jenny, "I've… been looking for you. We… don't have that much time left before our train leaves, if we don't want to have to find some other last-minute means of transit home. I've already arranged for our bags to be waiting for us at the station… and…"
Another head pops out of his knap-sack. A rather furry one at that, looking for the familiar voice. However Silas managed that, without bloodshed, is a mystery. Silas offers another slight grin, "…someone else was looking for youas well."

Found her? Like she was missing? And there went stupid bells chiming the hour and remarks on the train and.. "Mephy." Stupid ugly sharp clawed tempermental cat. Just the sight of it helped to make things…better. Her arms opened too, so that the crushed face looking creature came digging its way out of the napsack with little regard for the fact that it was a pub and padded over, until it'd crawled, heedless of its claws, up her front and into her arms as if she were a lamp post. "Mephy," the furballs name was breathed again, a little softer and with the kind of telling hitch to her voice that suggested more than anything she was holding on by a slim thread of control to her composure.
Jenny cradled him close, as if that might help ease things. Silas was stealing away her drink with talk of time and leaving and being forced to make other arrangments and Duncan was… It would be beyond rude, to simply go home from the station but home is where she wanted to go right then. Not France, not someone else's house. Not…anywhere but just, home. Her bed. Her room. Her…quidditch posters, of which Duncan took a star role in most. Duncan.
"I have to go. There's room on the train." The offer was extended in Duncan's direction, before she picked up the card that was left on the table, that too, cradled in close and tucked into the inner pocket of her robes.

He was so torn. He stops when she yells, yes, please, push me away. I pushed, you push back, and this can be the last time we butt heads. "Yeah, be mad at m-" On the train? With her?
Great, another chance. Half of him was delighted she suggested this. The other part of him was.. not? He didn't know at the moment. Had he just broken them off? No.. maybe?
"Sure," what am I doing? I'm terrible to her. I shouldn't.. "Yeah." Once again, she pulls, he pulls, in the anticiple of pushing they have against one another. A horrible meeting of their personalities in synch. He'd stand and wait for her by the door.

Duncan blinks, "Oh man.. I'm forgetting my stuff…" He reaches up to smack the side of his head and walk towards the Inn entrance. "I'll.. um.. meet you at the station!" He says, breaking into a trot towards that door, dissappearing out the door. Stupid man.

Silas smiles a bit at Jenny's response to Mephy. He knew that had been the right choice, at least. Of course, there is more than a little glimmer of shock in his eye when she invites Duncan along with them. That… was definitely not something he had expected. But, rolling his shoulders a bit, he decides to roll with it.
As he watches Duncan leave, he turns back to Jenny, smile still there, "I'm sorry if I interrupted things. That wasn't my intent. I, just… I'm eager to start all this. To spend some time away from the school, with you… even to meet your family, as daunting as the thought is."
He looks to the door, "Shall we?"

Bottom lip between her teeth, Jenny nods, failing at Silas' never failing nice nature. Her ability to pretend at the moment is…lower than low. It's nonexistant. "You're fine," and he's…well he's Silas, isn't he? Helpful, supportive and in turn, innocent in all of the ways that she isn't. There is nothing short of disaster looming ahead.
"And yes. I suppose we shall. There's the train, to think about." And the bottle of Bells that she's paying for and summarily, much like her cat, taking with her.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License