Now where were we?
Having retreated to southern Ireland in the midst of the terror set upon England by Voldemort's reign, Justin Finch-Fletchley was only able to hear the news of the front lines from afar. Having made a wizard contact in Kilkenny soon after arriving there, he was able to keep up with what had been going on on the mainland via a weekly meeting at one of the local pubs by some of the wizards who lived there and others who had escaped England. They would sit and drink as the week's dispatches were read aloud. Whoever it was that was overcome by emotion was well cared for by the rest.
There was no part of Justin that was glad to be away. All those who had stayed - who were able to stay - were now acting like heroes, regardless of whether they wanted to be or not. The magical community was of paramount importance to Justin, as it was the first place where he was accepted for who he was rather than who his parents were. It was the only thing that he could think of that he believed he would really, honestly fight for. He wanted nothing more than to give back, to be counted among those that stayed, but he could do nothing but be resigned to watching from afar.
For their part, as soon as they had arrived, his parents maintained the illusion that they were on vacation. They had seen what was going on. They knew why they had to leave. However, as soon as they had arrived in Kilkenny, they treated it like a vacation. The disgusting version of the truth that they had experienced in England was just too much for them to continue to live underneath. There were a couple of times after coming back from the pub that Justin didn't even have the energy to battle their escapism:
"Did you have a nice time down at the pub with your friends, dear?" his mother would ask, after hearing him lunge through the door again.
Justin's usual response to this was a clipped "yeah" on his way to his room. This time he had no response. He simply sighed dragged himself to the couch, next to where his mother was sitting. He turned to face her, his eyes watery, biting his lip. She draped her arm around her son's shoulder.
"What's wrong, my love?"
There were a least two dozen answers running through Justin's head, none of which he was able to say without his mom pretending not to know what he was talking about. After about a minute of silence, he pulled his head back and looked into his mother's eyes. He sighed again and said, with all honesty: "I'm tired." Martha Fletchley gave her son a hug.
"Oh, I know dear, you've been having some pretty late nights..." she trailed off before brightening up slightly, and holding her son's shoulders at arm's length "your father's going fishing tomorrow morning at the river - you should join him!"
The corner of Justin's mouth cracked a tiny smile. "Yeah, maybe I will."
And he did.
Through bonding with his parents, he was able to gain a measure of escapism himself. Despite the horrors he would hear about on a weekly basis, he managed to comfort himself by getting closer to the people that he did have. There weren't any arguments about Justin's future or what he "should be doing with his life", nor was there any criticism by Justin of his father's business practices. It was the first time since attending Hogwarts that Justin hadn't spent a summer wishing desperately to get away from his family. While not a complete remedy, it managed to keep his spirits high enough to continue from week to week.
Then, one week, walking into the pub, a beer was thrust into his hand and his shoulders grabbed and his body made to sway back and forth as the smiling faces around him came into focus.
That night, he went straight to his room upon coming home and opened his desk's bottom drawer. He reached in and retrieved his wand, his smile growing ever larger as he examined over, as if for the first time. He never thought that he was going to be able to use it again. He heard footsteps approaching his room, and he turned around - wand in hand, unable to wipe the smile off his face - to see his father standing in the doorway. Edward Finch stood silently for a second, grinning at his son. Justin rose to his feet and walked over to his father. They shared a quick hug, before Justin heard some words he never thought he would enjoy hearing: "Son, we're going to have to talk about the future."
And they did.
Justin's parents decided, ultimately, that they didn't want to return to England. Upon hearing this, Justin began to spill the entire tale, everything that he had been holding in throughout the entire summer, including some tears. He explained about his weekly meetings and about the toll that it had taken on him, but also told them the happy ending - it was over. England was safe again. His parents, in their infinite patience, listened to every word Justin said. Even if they didn't understand a majority of it, they could see that their son meant every word he said. After hearing him out, they explained that they still wanted to stay. This is what it takes for Edward Finch to retire, thought Justin.
He then explained to his parents that he still wanted to go back and complete his final year at Hogwarts. They understood.
This is how he found himself sitting cross-legged on the floor of his London flat, wondering which box to unpack first.
There was no part of Justin that was glad to be away. All those who had stayed - who were able to stay - were now acting like heroes, regardless of whether they wanted to be or not. The magical community was of paramount importance to Justin, as it was the first place where he was accepted for who he was rather than who his parents were. It was the only thing that he could think of that he believed he would really, honestly fight for. He wanted nothing more than to give back, to be counted among those that stayed, but he could do nothing but be resigned to watching from afar.
For their part, as soon as they had arrived, his parents maintained the illusion that they were on vacation. They had seen what was going on. They knew why they had to leave. However, as soon as they had arrived in Kilkenny, they treated it like a vacation. The disgusting version of the truth that they had experienced in England was just too much for them to continue to live underneath. There were a couple of times after coming back from the pub that Justin didn't even have the energy to battle their escapism:
"Did you have a nice time down at the pub with your friends, dear?" his mother would ask, after hearing him lunge through the door again.
Justin's usual response to this was a clipped "yeah" on his way to his room. This time he had no response. He simply sighed dragged himself to the couch, next to where his mother was sitting. He turned to face her, his eyes watery, biting his lip. She draped her arm around her son's shoulder.
"What's wrong, my love?"
There were a least two dozen answers running through Justin's head, none of which he was able to say without his mom pretending not to know what he was talking about. After about a minute of silence, he pulled his head back and looked into his mother's eyes. He sighed again and said, with all honesty: "I'm tired." Martha Fletchley gave her son a hug.
"Oh, I know dear, you've been having some pretty late nights..." she trailed off before brightening up slightly, and holding her son's shoulders at arm's length "your father's going fishing tomorrow morning at the river - you should join him!"
The corner of Justin's mouth cracked a tiny smile. "Yeah, maybe I will."
And he did.
Through bonding with his parents, he was able to gain a measure of escapism himself. Despite the horrors he would hear about on a weekly basis, he managed to comfort himself by getting closer to the people that he did have. There weren't any arguments about Justin's future or what he "should be doing with his life", nor was there any criticism by Justin of his father's business practices. It was the first time since attending Hogwarts that Justin hadn't spent a summer wishing desperately to get away from his family. While not a complete remedy, it managed to keep his spirits high enough to continue from week to week.
Then, one week, walking into the pub, a beer was thrust into his hand and his shoulders grabbed and his body made to sway back and forth as the smiling faces around him came into focus.
That night, he went straight to his room upon coming home and opened his desk's bottom drawer. He reached in and retrieved his wand, his smile growing ever larger as he examined over, as if for the first time. He never thought that he was going to be able to use it again. He heard footsteps approaching his room, and he turned around - wand in hand, unable to wipe the smile off his face - to see his father standing in the doorway. Edward Finch stood silently for a second, grinning at his son. Justin rose to his feet and walked over to his father. They shared a quick hug, before Justin heard some words he never thought he would enjoy hearing: "Son, we're going to have to talk about the future."
And they did.
Justin's parents decided, ultimately, that they didn't want to return to England. Upon hearing this, Justin began to spill the entire tale, everything that he had been holding in throughout the entire summer, including some tears. He explained about his weekly meetings and about the toll that it had taken on him, but also told them the happy ending - it was over. England was safe again. His parents, in their infinite patience, listened to every word Justin said. Even if they didn't understand a majority of it, they could see that their son meant every word he said. After hearing him out, they explained that they still wanted to stay. This is what it takes for Edward Finch to retire, thought Justin.
He then explained to his parents that he still wanted to go back and complete his final year at Hogwarts. They understood.
This is how he found himself sitting cross-legged on the floor of his London flat, wondering which box to unpack first.