| Details for A Stay in St. Mungo's |
| Summary: | While Angelus is staying in St. Mungo's, he has a chat with his mother. |
| Date: | March 27, 1940 |
| Location: | St. Mungo's, London |
| Related: | Changing Tactics |
| Characters |
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Sparks. Another scheme that backfired on him. Do these things never go as he expects them? Angelus, agitated and annoyed, is sprawled out comfortably on the bed of one of the rooms in St. Mungo’s. He’s on his stomach, one arm hanging over the bed as he tap, tap, taps his fingers against the side. A nuisance, that’s what this has all been. Especially the way he’s been treated here - quite appalling! He’s rightly expects people to wait on him; servants have no right to talk down to him or scold him. Preposterous.
Angelus has not been respectful to the Healers. Despite the fact that they are Healers - and might someday need to Heal him - the boy has been insufferable, ordering them around. It’s earned him more than a few harsh words and cold mannerisms. And no one is getting him what he wants!
He isn’t looking at the door when someone else enters. A dramatic sigh escapes the boy. “Who are they letting work here? A bunch of trolls? I asked for-“
Angelus cuts off as he looks up with a condescending twist of his lips. And that expression falters suddenly into a weight in his stomach as he spies his mother standing there, not looking pleased. Oops.
“Angelus,” she says on a sigh. Her tone is impatient, concerned, and trying hard to keep exasperation out of it. “Do you think your father would be pleased to hear you talk like that?”
Angelus doesn’t look sheepish in the slightest. In fact, he’s quite irritated by the presence of his mother. He sits up quickly on the bed, but his chin lifts and he rolls his eyes. “Mother,” he says with impatience, shifting uncomfortably. “Pa isn’t here.” Angeline gives a sigh as she moves over to sit gingerly on the bed, and Angelus turns his head to look at the hand she drapes over his shoulders. “What’s happening?”
“I’m going to ask you that,” returns Angeline, looking serious. A sigh escapes the boy, a distasteful flicker of his lips as he rolls his eyes.
“The school is a joke, Mother. Letting Muggle-born come in, make themselves comfortable, and making up stories to get rid of us.” Angelus glowers down at the floor as he shifts a little, but forces his expression to ease up as he looks to his mother. “Davies, or Bates, or whatever it is she wants to call herself now, we were simply talking and she scared herself into thinking I’d jump from the stairs. Silly girl.”
“Listen,” says Angeline, motherly and stern, but caring as she squeezes his shoulder. “I need you to behave like a proper gentleman, Sweetie. I know this isn’t you.” Angelus looks vexed at his mother’s tone, irked that it sounds as though she doesn’t believe him.
“Mother,” Angelus pipes up, trying to veer away from the conversation. “Who came to the house, what did they do?” In response Angeline lets out a soft sigh, shaking her head.
“Angelus, I need you to promise me you’ll be on better behaviour.”
“Can I attend Durmstrang?” Angelus says, and blinks as he looks at the firm look in his mother’s eyes. He lets out a sigh and slides his gaze away. “I behave, Mother.” There’s a sigh from the witch, but apparently she decides to accept this, because she draws him in for a tighter hug.
“I don’t want to feel the anxiety I felt when I got the message you were here.”
“Mother,” Angelus says impatiently. “What happened with Pa?”
“Auror Lee, Auror Bates, and Auror Cohen came by to search the manor,” Angeline says in a resigned tone. “We’re going to be staying in our cabin for a while,” she says, trying to sound reassuring as she smiles, brushing her fingers against her son’s forehead as she moves a blonde girl.
This hits Angelus hard and he suddenly pops up off the bed, turning to face Angeline. “Why? How can they do that? They allowed…” He hesitates before letting out in a biting tone, “Muggle-born to come into our house and take Pa?”
“Angelus.” Angeline’s voice is warning, and she sighs as she rests her hands in her lap.
“Don’t make me go back. I’ll study at home. I’ll work hard.” Angelus cuts off as he regards his mother’s face as it sags with sadness and he releases a heavy sigh. “Can I at least wait for the weekend to pass?”
The witch nods. “I suppose.” She rises to her feet as she offers an arm out for him that Angelus doesn’t pull away from. She kisses him affectionately on the cheek. “I’ll go and talk to them about getting out of here.” Angelus nods, inclining his head a little to the side as he watches his mother step out. Heaving a sigh, he flops back onto the bed.