milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Here is a Miniver. He's out of the infirmary, but one might say... not exactly looking spectacular.

He's sprawling more or less in a booth. Possibly he ended up here stopping to rest on his way to his room and forgot to move again. Or something.

There's a little enchanted model dragon skulking around the table and apparently trying to boil the glass of water a rat deposited on the table at some point, which is being ignored in favor of a book, which Miniver is sometimes reading, and sometimes staring off into space distractedly.

Come say hi to the recovering alcoholic.

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"You're feeling better!" comes an excited exclamation, and Miniver is pretty much tackled by a six-year-old who's having some serious issues with her life.

For example, did you know that her parents had been telling her horrible, mean, untrue things? Like how she's a mistake and stupid and in the way? 'Cause she didn't, earlier.

Miniver catches her a little unsteadily, but with a big smile. "Hey, sweets. Yeah, I am. A lot better, actually. I'd pick you up, but I can barely pick MYSELF up. How you doin', kid?"

"I'm okay, 'cept Mr. Paul said that my parents have been telling me horrible things, but I thought they were true and I don't know what to think anymore."

Pout.

"You know Paul?" BIG GRIN. "Paul's one of my best friends. And he's probably right, because Paul usually is right about everything even if it confuses you. What things did they tell you, sweetie?"

"That I'm a mistake an' a problem an' that other things're more important than me."

Which... she always just accepted as fact.

Miniver frowns.

"Well um."

Pauce for consideration.

"My parents told me the same things. Uh..." Only no one ever convinced him it wasn't true. He just sort of accepts that he was nothing but an inconvenience until they got rid of him. But how the hell do you predict the same kind of future to a 6-year-old?

"Paul's probably right," he decides, because it seems like a safe assumption. "Whatever he told you."

"But that means that my parents are mean and cruel and that means they don't love me." the last two words are very quiet and uncertain. She always knew she wasn't their favorite, but...

Parents always love their children... right?

Miniver looks at her. For a long time.

And hugs her.

She'll find out someday, but it won't be from him. Life sucks enough as it is.

"Hey, kid. How about I tell you a secret?"

She perks up a bit. "What kind of secret?"

He whispers to her, "I'm a real wizard now. Draco gave me magic from his world."

SQUEEBOUNCEGIGGLE.

She has forgotten her woes.

"Really? Can you do some now?"

"Ahh, I wish I could, but I need a wand. And I only know one spell so far. Draco says I can get a wand in Tom's world, but I have to meet Tom, and figure out how to get there. I did it with Draco's wand -- made a feather float, I mean -- but every wand is unique to the wizard who uses it and his doesn't work all that well for me. But I do have magic now. And maybe... maybe that means I can stop hurting myself, really for true this time, forever. Like I promised."

She doesn't understand all of that, but he gets snuggled. "Now I can say I met a real wizard!"

"You sure did." He snuggles back. "And if you stay here long enough, or ever come back, I'll show you real magic when I get my own wand. I promise you that for real. Rilla, right? I'll remember that."

She nods happily. "Rilla. Okay!"

He gets another snuggle before she bounces up to drag a bag full of books over.

"Look what Mr. Mark got me! He got me loads of books, and the one you told me about, with King Arthur!"

It's produced and handed to him. "And I wrote my name in the cover and everything!"

Inside the cover, in blue marker, very neatly (for a six-year-old) there is printed the name "Sasha Cornwell".

Cornwell.

Doesn't he know that name?

Rilla... that's a little like... April...

O.O

Headtilt.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. You just... remind me a lot of someone I know."

"Really?" She's never reminded anyone of someone before.

"Yeah." He smiles at her. "My very best friend."

Rilla beams

"You're my very best friend," she says.

It's true, too. And she even said it to someone else yesterday.

Miniver laughs. "I bet I am, kid. I bet I am."

Now where, exactly, is APRIL?

April's in New York. Coming back early this morning, after someone convinces this kid to go home.

"You are," she says solemnly. "And if I never get back, like the Pevensies and Narnia, I'll remember you forever and ever."

This might have something to do with why they clicked so readily.

Miniver smiles at her.

"You know what, kid... I think I know you will."

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