Written for the HSWW: Challenges & Assignments
Task, Swimming, Backstroke: Write about someone on bedrest.
6 December 2010
"Good morning." Rolf always started the day with the same line. It went downhill whenever he conjured the laden breakfast tray or made a food analogy. Some gypsy in Romania suggested they head home for the holidays and enjoy the last leg of the home stretch.
Luna imagined herself as these gigantic yeast rolls Rolf's grandmother used to insist on leaving out as she prepared a fancy dinner. She got confined to this bedroom, and her due date wasn't exactly the end of her sentence; Newt Scamander said this came seventeen or eighteen years later, depending on whether they got a good son. Luna got bigger and bigger, and since she broke the rules, she couldn't attend the opening ceremony of the magi-zoo.
"Luna, come on." Rolf sat down on the edge of the bed and set down the tray. "It's almost over."
"It's not fair, and I'm not hungry." A cup of hot cocoa stirred itself with a soft peppermint stick. Deep down, really deep down because Luna never considered getting this big, she understood he tried to help. As of today, and yes, she counted every day, she sat at three weeks past when these kids supposed to come. She swung from guilt to depression, and she guessed Rolf avoided her like dragon pox. Simply eating because it was there, she tore off a yeast roll and dipped it in her hot cocoa. "What's it like?"
Rolf, a pudgy dark-skinned man comfortable in his own skin, shrugged into a coat. He helped himself to eggs. Rolf still balanced work and assignments, yet he made it home to make Luna and his grandfather lunch and dinner. He proved a talented funny writer as the Chief Consulting Magi-zoologist for the Daily Prophet and the chair of the Scamander Foundation, he juggled a lot of things at once, and the London Magi-zoo finally got approved by the right sponsors.
"The outside?" Rolf placed her fork on her plate.
Luna glared at him. The sides of Rolf's mouth twitched, and although he might not have might the jape, he reaped the benefits of it. "When do I get out?"
"You're not imprisoned, Luna, and you've got a cold." Rolf ducked when Luna tossed tissue at him. She could have resorted to the crying thing or the petty name calling thing. Yet she didn't know how to stop either once she hit her stride. Charlie Weasley jokingly accused her of smuggling two cantaloupes onto the moon calves exhibition last month, and she bawled like a fat five-year-old. "What do you want?"
"I asked you already," she said, offering him a hand. She went to use the bathroom, something she did constantly. Rolf helped her pull on a dark blue maternity dress, and he pretended not to know what she talked about. He helped her with shoes.
"They'll come when they are ready, Luna." Rolf rested his hand on her back.
"I hate you." Luna didn't mean it. Rolf, annoyed now, said she reminded him of a child who didn't get her way. Patient and reserved, except when it came to the Scamander Foundation, Rolf insisted he bent over backwards for her and everyone else. Luna knew she wasn't herself lately, and everyone cut her slack, but she deserved to be there by his side.
"Maybe Grandpa is sleeping," he said, a hint of a smile on his lips.
He shrugged this off when the old man, dressed in cargo trousers and his vintage peacock blue coat. Newt Scamander said he was bored beyond bored, and he obviously wasn't going to miss this. Newt moved slower than slow these days, but he was still alive and kicking. Rolf conjured a light shawl and blanket and waited for Luna to sit down.
"Rolf," she said, crossing her arms.
"Either we have the best day of our lives, or you can sit here all alone and get angry at the world," said Rolf, not backing down. Luna settled down, resigned, and let him take care of her. He grabbed her handbag, stuffed her potions inside, and left the bedroom. "I might've gotten you an early Christmas present."
"You're Jewish," Luna countered evenly.
Newt wiped his spectacles on his Scamander Foundation t-shirt and replaced them on his face. When they got into the sitting room, Luna beamed. Charlie Weasley studied two t-shirts laid on the coffee table. He decided on the one advertising the Scamander Foundation with the Niffler paw prints scurrying down the back. He'd grown his hair out and shrugged when Newt said Charlie made himself at home anywhere.
"What's up, Grandpa?" Charlie claimed the couch and embraced the old man.
"How're things, Charlie?" Newt obviously wasn't Charlie's grandfather, but Charlie kind of found himself in the Scamander family when he pegged Rolf as his best friend. Newt claimed him.
"I found out why the Welsh Green can't see," said Charlie, clapping his hands together and wincing at Rolf before he explained why. Rolf wasn't going to like this. "The traffickers who found Finn? Phineas? Blinded him."
Luna, horrified, turned from Rolf, to Charlie, and back again. Charlie explained why he'd been damned and determined to get an answer. He travelled from Romania, to Ukraine, to somewhere in Arizona, back to Romania in the past three days. He helped out with the magi-zoo because Rolf was his Scamander. Rolf dropped everything to help out Charlie, and Charlie considered Rolf his sixth brother. Rolf, shaking with fury, stalked towards the fireplace.
"Rolf," said Newt, sighing deeply. He'd seen a lot in his time, Luna knew, and the repeated shocking storylines no longer surprised him as anything short of sensational. Newt pointed at Luna.
"I found Finn in Phoenix," said Rolf. He'd reached up and grabbed Floo Powder; he slipped through his fingers and onto the carpet. "I flat-out asked them! If they sweep this under the rug with the Dragon Research Bureau, Grandpa … Phineas needs me."
"Your wife needs you," said Newt, ambling over like a crab and placing a hand on Rolf's shoulder.
While the boys bided their sweet time, Luna had gone into labor twice. The first time it happened in August at the Heartstrings Sanctuary in Romania, Luna didn't even grasp what happened around her. A month later, after Apparating to Cairo, she fell into a panic and Rolf insisted the healers follow a plan to the letter.
"She's not supposed to worry, and I don't know about you, but Luna looks pretty worried to me." Newt siphoned the Floo Powder off the floor and it flew into his outstretched hand.
"She's got you," said Rolf wildly, desperate for a helping hand because he didn't know what to do. He grimaced apologetically at Luna and waved wildly at Charlie. Charlie got to his feet, all thoughts of the magi-zoo forgotten. "My hands are tied here, Luna, and Phineas .. . he can't be shuffled around reservations, and those poaching buffoons will claim he's dangerous. If anything happens, I'm an owl or a Floo away. I can't. It's Finn."
"I get it," she said sadly.
"You look nice, momma," said Charlie, kissing Luna on the cheek. "We'll be back."
"Yeah." Luna, troubled, stared at the place they Disapparated. Neither her nor Newt said anything for a long time. She closed her eyes. Luna didn't understand a lot about a lot. She admitted her ignorance, yet she didn't understand why people aimed to tame a dragon. She got up, swayed shakily on her feet, and sighed when the old man guided her over to the couch.
Newt conjured a coffee and another hot cocoa. "Queenie's recipe."
"Your grandson's nothing sort of amazing," said Luna, enveloped by the peppermint and the warmth. They clinked mugs. "He's lucky. I'm lucky. People don't show this level of devotion."
"Thank you." Newt took the compliment and scratched Mauler the Kneazle behind the ear. Mauler dropped a dead mouse on Luna's non-existent lap. Newt picked it up by the tail, swung it, and tossed it back onto the ground as Mauler and Hoppy, the three-legged Kneazle fought over a bit to tide them over for breakfast. "If you feed a cat or a Kneazle, they sometimes haunt for you. Tina used to scream."
"Oh." Luna watched Mauler savor the tail last, like spaghetti.
Newt set his coffee aside, drafted an owl to the Scamander Foundation, and dipped a quill into ink for her to sign after he added his initials.
"Why me?" Luna took it.
"Not that I mean to scare you, dear, and please wait on Rolf to return before you decide on one being three," said Newt, his face lighting up. "But your signature is as powerful as his."
"I'm his wife," said Luna, setting the quill aside and attaching it to an owl's leg. It flew off. She paced the sitting room, worrying herself to death. "He's different."
"He's a father," Newt kept things simple. Over the last week, Rolf had bustled around the house and put things in order. Newt laughed so hard he wiped tears from his eyes, and he fell back onto Rolf's given name. "Nesting. Newton cares about things and people do deeply, he gets tunnel vision and focuses all his energies and this person or this creature."
"Charlie." Luna smiled as the old man built a fire by hand and knocked her up a second breakfast and clearing the dishes out of the bedroom. Luna helped him and made eggs and fried potatoes. She frowned. "I've been awful, haven't I?"
Newt said neither yes or no; Luna took this as a good answer, and it occurred to her he needn't say anything. She could do light housework, so she cleaned the kitchen by hand simply to have something to do. They lived in Newt's house, and he'd bequeathed Tina's old New York apartment to Rolf because he didn't want it. Luna, conscious Newt watched her, wondered if he studied her or simply got lost on a task.
"You're not an ordinary girl." Newt pulled himself away from his thoughts.
He'd paid her this compliment before on her wedding day almost five years ago. She'd married a man nearly nine years older than herself, but Luna saw something in Rolf even then. Newt picked up an article displaying Luna, draped in a flowery dress in a market in Diagon Alley. Rita Skeeter, no doubt, had some lovely commentary about Luna's appearance.
"I don't want to know what that says." Luna happily let her body got you hell after seven months or so. Newt tore it in half and tossed it into the kitchen fire. He tossed the unopened hate mail along with it, but a Howler from a Millicent Hooper commented, "…she drops a calf or two" before he got rid of all the evidence. Newt, his skin translucent as paper, tore open his hand in his hurry. Luna, wiping her hands hastily on a dishtowel, dashed over to him. "Grandpa."
"It's fine. Get up." Newt sighed when she squatted awkwardly and tapped his hand with her wand. "You're crying."
"I'm not," she lied, guiding the bandages as they shot from her wand. They patched Newt up perfectly. He thanked her. Luna usually brushed off commentary, especially when it came from the likes of Miss Skeeter's poisonous Quick Quotes Quill, but they stung. Newt stroked her cheek sympathetically. She shook her head, blinded by sudden tears and leaned on the old man.
"This angered Rolf this morning. It wasn't you," said Newt, though Luna failed to see whether Rolf disguised his emotions. Newt patted her on the back.
"This is the press release on the day the magi-zoo is slated to open," said Luna, snatching a letter from the flames and reading some nasty allegations about the Scamander Foundation. She laid out the crumpled paper, weighing her options. How did Tina used to phrase this none too delicately when Rolf used to bang his head against the wall trying to get someone to listen? "Blowing smoke up a dead horse's ass?"
Newt, unable to help himself, laughed. Luna tossed a handful of powder into the fire. She played the stupid girl card and invited Rita Skeeter over for a civil chat. She could do little more than fan the flames, but she refused to let this really catch fire. Luna could do little to repair the damage. Minutes later, ironing out the wrinkles with her hands, Luna sat down, placing one foot behind the other.
Rita had aged considerably, and whatever magic the Siren Solutions youth line promised backfired on her face. Luna noticed Newt retreated into his nest, his office for a moment before parking his butt in an armchair. Rita clutched her handbag.
"You look …" Rita left her niceties back at the office.
Luna pretended to check the line from the fan mail. "'A woman who's never going to spring back to anything less than gloriously fat.' You hurt people. And you don't even care."
"And you're surprised," said Rita, turning to compliment Newt on his house with her next breath. "It's lovely."
Newt pretended not to hear her.
"I told you once this paper exists to sell itself," said Rita. In truth, she'd told Hermione Granger this before her fall from grace as special correspondent to gossip columnist. Rita watched Luna carefully as she rested her hand on her belly. Rita sounded as though Luna overlooked something painfully obvious. "Your husband works for the paper."
"His cubicle is right across from yours," said Luna, drumming her fingers on the armchair. "I bet you didn't think twice before you said these things."
"Oh, are you all exempt from criticism?" Rita scoffed, muttering something under her breath Luna didn't quite catch. She caught words like "weirdo", "breeding", and "nonsense." "Your father writes for a manure rag, and you expect people to take you seriously because of some 'Scamander Foundation'? Rolf thinks people actually care …"
Luna breathed in and out, trying to remember some meditation routines she'd learned while in Romania. She closed her eyes, letting Rita talk as though her skewed opinion shaped the world. Newt didn't interrupt.
"You're not even listening to me," snapped Rita. "People should be licensed to breed."
Newt held up a hand. "That is quite enough, thank you. I would appreciate it if you left, Miss Skeeter."
"People ought to be genuinely kind to people," said Luna, staring Rita down as she heaved herself to her feet. "But you're so busy tearing people down, you don't even see them. You want call me fat? Fine. I'm an unfit mother? All right. But if you go after my husband in any way, so help me God, I will shut it down. And if you ever go after my children …"
"Mrs. Scamander," said Rita, adjusting her spectacles and dropping her friendly tone. "When all of this blows over, Barnabas Cuffe will think nothing of your complaint."
"What a stupid woman." Newt tossed a book on top of another.
"Miss Skeeter, let me break this down for you. Barnabas Cuffe is married to Sarah Scamander, who has a hand in the Scamander Foundation. Rolf's Aunt Sarah loves him. One day, you will pick the wrong person, and you will pay for it." Luna noticed Rita stopped fidgeting with her hideous handbag. "My husband is the Scamander Foundation! You want to play this game?"
Rita muttered about a letter from the editor.
"I need to lie down," said Luna, spent without doing anything physical. Newt asked Rita to leave and helped Luna to bed. She changed back into her night things and relaxed when Newt tucked her in. "I should be taking care of you."
"Get your rest. Sarah's going to lose her mind," said Newt, placing a pillow behind her back. He chuckled to himself as he backed out of the room and disappeared into his nest. "You're my favorite."
Luna, touched, picked up her papers on the bedside table after they shuffled themselves. She drafted an owl to the Scamander Foundation and worked on small tasks before she nodded off. When she woke up, Newt was fast asleep in Rolf's reading chair, and Rolf sat on the bed and massaged her feet.
"Aunt Sarah says you shut down Gossip Girl." Rolf pumped lotion into his hands and held up his left one. Luna left him hanging. "Charlie says you're like a momma Vipertooth. Pulling the Sarah card?"
"What's up, momma?" Charlie, leaning against the doorframe lifted bags of takeaway. He said the next part unnecessarily. "We got food."
Luna snuggled next to Rolf when he kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed with her. Charlie took a lid off a soup container and told her to eat up. Soup, especially a hearty noodle soup like pho, hit the spot on the good and bad days. After solving the whole Phineas thing, Rolf ran a few quick errands and cut a few corners to get the good stuff.
"Intercontinental Apparition isn't taken lightly," said Luna. She read the label from some place hidden in New York City. She kissed Rolf on the cheek. "You went all the way to New York for me?"
"There's a chocolate cheesecake with a Freezing Charm cast upon it in the kitchen." Rolf took the win, draping his arm over her shoulder. "Charlie told me to get you good stuff, although Percy's probably going to slap me with fines. Any news with you and the old man?"
"I'm fat. It's in print." Luna warmed when she tasted the broth. Charlie enjoyed what she assumed was a private joke, though he jarred Rolf's memory. "What is it?"
"Oh, the Foundation sent me an owl about this," and Rolf, showing her a letter he'd received. He offered a demonstration; he flipped her off with both hands. "Kaspar and Louis Philippe say answer Miss Skeeter straight-faced with a pair of these."