 02. angry
She was going to punch Lydia Proudfoot in the face.
How dare she take up Jonathan as her History partner during this study group! Who did she think she was? Everyone in the entire school, in all of bloody England knew that they had been dating for over a year now, so who did this...this bitch think she was? And to sit right in front of her like it was nothing at all! Megan wished to rip every last strand of hair out of Lydia's head, she wanted to strangle her with her green and silver tie, she wanted to---she wanted to---
Megan pursed her lips as hard as she could, realizing she could not cause a scene. She was a prefect, Jonathan was a prefect, and if she behaved like a raging, jealous, hormonal driven teenager, she would surely lose all her shots at becoming Head Girl next year.
But it would be worth it, it wipe that smirk off of Proudfoot's face.
Her partner had been rattling on about the third century's eighth goblin rebellion, but Megan could pay no mind. All she could think about were the ways she could backhandedly torture Lydia Proudfoot. All she really needed to do was tell Professor Sprout that Proudfoot had said some terrible things to her during lunch, and her head of house would believe her in a second. It's not like it would be that much of a stretch, as the girl was a Slytherin and a very rude one at that. Megan straightened her shoulders, stiffening her back to gain her full height as her idea began to form in her mind.
"Shut up, Archie," Megan muttered, slapping down his hand, which had been waving in front of her face to catch her attention. She took only a second to pass her glare onto him (which silenced him fully), and continued her attempt to bore a hole into Proudfoot's head with her eyes. Wandless magic could only go so far, but Megan had the will.
"Oh, Jonathan dear," Proudfoot's voice rang out in the quiet library. Megan felt as if it were nails scratching down a chalkboard, and her lips twisted in a snarl, "You've got something in your hair, let me get it for you!"
"OW!"
Megan had lurched forward so fast that she'd forgotten her feet were twisted around the legs of the chair, and she'd caused herself to smack straight into the table. Archie was immediately calling for assistance, but Megan had already settled herself by the time Jonathan had come around to check up on her. She immediately dismissed his concerns, her eyes still locked onto Proudfoot's back.
Bloody table, interrupting her murder of Lydia Proudfoot.
|
 03. sad
Megan couldn't understand it, how her home could be dark in the middle of the day. Even though the shades were open and the sun was shining in, the walls of the house were sad. There was no other way to describe it, it was sad. Her home was sad, she could feel it through the walls, resonating down the hallways. It hadn't been a happy place in nearly three weeks, and while any effort to change that had been limited on her part, Megan was beginning to understand that she needed to be the one to fix things.
With Susan and Sam asleep in their playpen (and after a picture was taken, because it was such an adorable sight), Megan slowly made her way up the stairs. Her hand trailed along the wall, fingers etching along the texture of the wallpaper. Megan liked having things in order, and under control, but it felt like the past few years had been nothing but surprise after surprise, and most not as pleasant as her son. When she couldn't control things, Megan couldn't fix them. Did that make any sense? She supposed a person could be able to find some sort of solution to a problem they couldn't fully maintain, but Megan? No, just the idea of heading into a situation where her control wasn't a full 100% sent her into a manic tizzy.
But, since Edgar Bones and his family had been murdered, Megan had been forced to take hold of the reigns of one of those terrible surprises surrounding her loved ones.
Megan had loved Edgar like her own little brother. She'd known him since before his Hogwarts days, and had been to every one of his birthday parties. He had shared secrets with her about Jonathan and Amelia, feeling like a grown up for being able to trust her. She always picked Edgar's side to be on, and battled his older siblings in any sort of game they played. Megan had loved Edgar, nearly as much as her own brother, and was probably closer to him than she and Macon would ever be.
When he died, her world had frozen and shattered, but she'd somehow managed to pick up the pieces. Her husband, however, hadn't been able to do the same.
She peered into their bedroom, surprised that Jonathan wasn't in there. Megan crossed to his office, and when that was empty she paused to think. Had he left? The house was so quiet, it was a good possibility. No, he would have told her, though. Even through his depression, Jonathan still remained a good husband. So he was here, somewhere, she just had to find him.
The soft creaking is what led her to the nursery, and Megan leaned on the frame of the door as she watched her husband slowly rock back and forth. His hair was long and unkempt, and she was sure his razors hadn't been touched in weeks. Jonathan Bones looked a terrible mess, and his wife couldn't think of anything to make him happy once more.
He noticed her after a few silent moments, and stopped his rocking. Megan entered the nursery and moved to the crib to smooth down some of Sam's blankets, and prop up the plush animals in their proper places. It was easy keeping her kids' rooms and toys neat because they were still too young to make a mess, but Megan dreaded the day when both were walking and talking and shrieking and making messes---who was she kidding, her babies were not going to behave that way. They would be fine, and know when to clean up after themselves, and---
"She was pregnant."
Megan stopped her mental ramble (something she'd found herself doing a lot in her house's silence) and turned to Jonathan slowly. He was hunched over in the rocking chair, feet planted on the carpet to stop the motion. Jonathan had barely spoken since his brother's death, and Megan couldn't figure out what he was saying. But she didn't have a chance to ask, "Gilly, she was--pregnant."
Her hand went straight to her chest. She hadn't known that, had---anyone known that?
"How do you..."
"He told me, Edgar---he told me," Jonathan barely managed. He dug his elbows into his thighs as his hands covered his face, and Megan twitched to move closer, but--something told her that her husband needed to say what he wanted to say before she could interrupt. "A week before, he told me, because---I had told him first when we were---having our boy and---"
Jonathan threw his hands down, sitting back and looking absolutely lost, "How---I can't---there aren't...my little brother--" He looked angry now, and Megan stepped closer, "I---it was my job to protect him, all his life and---Amelia never let me---so Edgar was..."
Megan hurried forward, clambering onto Jonathan's lap and pulling him into her. Jonathan's breath was harsh but he didn't struggle against her hold, "My little brother...I couldn't do anything for him, Megan..."
He pushed closer and Megan tightened her grip. It was all she could do, for now.
|
