Who: Danielle and Donovan
What: Disowned...
Where: The Rookwood's flat
When: Tuesday afternoon
Status: Completing in comments



Danielle hadn’t bothered to change out of her robes from work after her shift had ended. Her hair was sitting high on her head, a mess because she’d been needed on the mediwizard team because of a quidditch ruckus in Godric’s Hollow. People and their games, it really astounded her. She was dirty, and had been clocked in the head pretty hard herself by one rather burly, drunken wizard who after Danielle had placed a sobering spell on, promptly fell on top of her.

It was just one of those days.

She rubbed the bump that was forming and pulled off her robes, grimacing as she realized the scrubs she’d been wearing underneath were also filthy. Danielle let out a breath and sat down on the little bench under the coat hanger, not feeling as if she had the energy to make it to the bedroom to change. Lost in her thoughts, she stared through the opaque window that was on the side of the front door. A blurry figure began up their steps, and Danielle smiled as she felt the wards allow the person in without a problem.

“Hello,” she said to Donovan as he opened the door. Danielle stared up at him, knowing she looked a mess but feeling content. It was lovely to come home at the same time; it meant she didn’t have to be long without her husband. She noticed he didn’t have his briefcase, however, and her eyebrows knitted, “Did you come from work?”

Donovan looked like he had been through the ringer as he stepped through the door to the flat he shared with his wife – his wife… The title still sounded so strange to him, but he had a feeling it had a lot to do with the fact that it was still really new, and they hadn’t had the actual ceremony yet. He hadn’t been able to refer to her as ‘my wife’ in public yet, but he knew that she was legally Danielle Rookwood, and he loved that she was.

Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t truly appreciate it as much as he usually did as he unlocked the door, emotionally drained because of how he had spent his day. For some reason he even forgot what time her shift was supposed to end, and was actually surprised when he heard her voice coming from…the closet?

“Hi.”

He closed the door behind him, rubbing at the inside corner of his eye as he slowly stepped forward, approaching her.

“No.”

His answer was short, but he sounded disappointed by the fact that he hadn’t come from work. He would have preferred to be coming in from his job than where he had actually been – or more specifically, what had taken place at that location. He offered her a hand to help her to her feet.

The concerned expression stayed on her face as she rose to her feet, and Danielle didn’t hesitate in probing for more answers, “What happened?”

Her hand rose to touch the side of his face, her eyes jumping to try and get a read of his expression. If Donovan hadn’t come from work, where could he have come from looking so tired and upset? Everything seemed to be upsetting her lately, but she’d been keeping in good spirits in front of Donovan, who really was the only person who could honestly make her happy. Her brother still hadn’t confirmed if he would be attending the wedding, and that stung so much, thinking that her own flesh and blood wouldn’t---

---hm. Danielle let her mind rest, and she placed her hand on the side of his neck in comfort. She had a feeling she knew where her husband had come from.

He knew the questions were coming – he knew she would be asking why he looked so tired, like he hadn’t slept for the last couple of nights. Truth be told, he actually hadn’t, seeing how he knew what he had to do that day, and had been thinking about all the possible outcomes, which kept him awake. Never once did he tell Danielle though, because she already had enough on her mind as it was without him worrying her about going to see his parents. He hadn’t even talked to he about arranging to speak with her brother, because if things ended badly, than she’d only get more upset.

He lowered his eyes as he felt her hand on his face, his lips pursing together as he thought for a moment on answering her question.

“I don’t know where to start.”

The words were quiet, but as he looked up to her, it became clear to him that she knew where he had been without him having to say a damn word about it. He clenched his jaw, his throat tightening as he thought about what had just happened, those metallic eyes of his expressing quite clearly that after seeing his mother and father, after confronting them for the first time since his engagement to Danielle had been announced, something was now broken in him.

He let out a wavering heavy sigh through his nose, lifting his hands to be placed on either side of her face, pulling her in towards him so he could press his forehead to hers, his nose brushing against hers. He just needed to be close to her, and breathe her in as he closed his eyes.

“…it’s been a long day.”

Danielle frowned, wanting to wash away all his worry with a swish of her wand or a kiss of her lips. It confused her endlessly that now that they had finally been able to be together, it seemed like the rest of the world was enjoying making them miserable. She’d never expected her brother to doubt her relationship with Donovan, she’d never expected his brother to pull him into his death eater matters, she’d never...sometimes Danielle felt like she was being punished, even if she’d never voice that out loud.

She’d broken Donovan’s heart, she’d stolen him back from a girl she didn’t even know, and...he’d basically been disowned by his family, because of her. The guilt Danielle felt about that would never go away, and her conscience was a constant, heavy weight on her shoulders. The same questions always swirled around in her mind when she thought about his family; would he have been happier, marrying the pureblood girl? Cecilia? Was his life going to always be missing something, with her?

Danielle let out a breath and kissed him quickly before wrapping her arms around his neck, wishing that she could just stand there and hold him until the pain went away. When these thoughts came to her, she had to remind herself that Donovan had been given every chance to leave her, but he’d done the exact opposite. He’d married her, and promised to be with her for the rest of his life.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she offered, kissing his neck before burying her face against him. Danielle wanted him to, she always told her patients that it was better to let their emotions out than bottle it in, but Donovan was a special case. If it hurt him to talk about it, she would never mention it again.

With his arms around her, he pulled her in close, his face buried in her hair as he tried to wipe his mind clear of every memory he had acquired within the last 5 hours or so. His eyes shut tighter when she spoke, but he wouldn’t answer right away. Instead he just stood with her there in silence for a second longer, eventually dropping his arms down to rest his hands on her waist, pulling back in order to look at her. He still didn’t say anything, just tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, eventually leaning down to press another kiss against her lips.

Stepping back, he found her hand, guiding her down the hallway in order to lead her to the couch in their living room.

“…wait here.”

He kept hold of her hand as long as he could even as he started walking around the couch to make his way into the kitchen. He would rummage around in the cabinets, and would emerge again with a bottle of firewhiskey in one hand, two glasses held between his fingers in the other. He took a seat beside her, placing the glasses down onto the table. He would then work on opening the bottle.

“I went to my parent’s house this afternoon…but something tells me you already knew that.”

His eyes met hers for a brief moment, but then went on to pour them each a drink, though he added a bit more to his own serving. He definitely needed a stiff drink.

“I arranged to meet with them a few weeks ago. It took a bit of convincing, but after the 20th owl they finally agreed to see me.”

She ignored the glass, staring at Donovan with wide, worried eyes. Danielle barely nodded to acknowledge that she’d figured out what had transpired, her lips pressed tightly together as she listened to Donovan’s story. He’d been trying to get in contact with them for a while, and they’d finally responded. That should have been good, if she’d known about his requests, and if she’d known about their agreement to see him, Danielle could have found something to be optimistic about. What kind of people allowed you to come into their home if it was going to ended up poorly? Why put yourselves through that?

But as it was obvious by his demeanor and the fact that he had a glass of firewhiskey in his hand, it proved that his parents had invited him back into their home with the intention of letting him know that they still disapproved, or---maybe---Danielle didn’t know what to think. Maybe they’d made him feel guilty about taking the stand against Augustus. Maybe they’d sent him on another guilt trip, maybe....it was so hard to stay optimistic, and Danielle just wrung her hands tighter on her lap.

“I’m glad you tried,” she muttered as he continued, still eager to hear what had transpired next, but she needed him to know that she was proud of him for being so strong. Danielle still couldn’t have a full conversation with her mother before getting angry at how the woman had tampered with her life.

“Yeah…”

He trailed off, unable to say anything more than that. He appreciated her words of encouragement, making him feel like he hadn’t gone so far for nothing – that he had tried. Her perspective on things was always very different than his own – sometimes it was for the better, other times for the worse.

He grabbed the glass of whiskey he had poured for himself, staring down into it as he spoke.

“I don’t think we spoke a word through lunch. I think the bloody house elf got better conversation out of my father than I did.”

With that, he lifted the glass, hovering an inch from his mouth as he spoke.

“Little did I know that sitting in uncomfortable silence would be the highlight of my visit.”

With that, his lips touched the glass, and he’d actually down the entire ‘dosage’ of firewhiskey in one shot, wincing as it burned his throat on the way down. He then reached for the bottle, pouring himself another glass. He’d need it, if he was going to continue on.

“They treated me like a stranger in their home…like I was an inconvenient guest, who should have been grateful for their hospitality.”

He started twisting the newly poured glass of whiskey on the table, still focused on the drink. It was easier, to talk about this without looking at her. It was one or the other – as soon as he saw the way she was looking at him, he’d stop talking altogether. He didn’t like feeling like he was being pitied…but this was one of those rare times when he desperately needed comfort. It wasn’t fair, asking for that from Danielle, with the circumstances being what they were, but he couldn’t handle this on his own.

“…I asked them if they had gotten the invitation to our wedding. Things just….went downhill from there.”

He took another swig of his drink, but left some in the glass this time.

“One topic lead to another… Over and over again, I’d hear the same things from my father: ‘You’ve caused us so much shame, Donovan.’ ‘You’re a disappointment, Donovan.’ ‘Augustus is in Azkaban, because of you, Donovan.’” He shut his eyes for a moment, hearing his father’s voice ringing in his ears even as he repeated them out loud. So much more was said – things about her that he would never dare repeat.

’The filthy mudblood means nothing more to us than a stain on our family tapestry, Donovan.’

Opening his eyes, he looked down into his drink.

“My mother never said a word…not through any of it. She just sat there, and watched.”

This damn near hurt more than being berated by his father for two hours. He shot back the rest of his second drink, just to begin pouring a third. He was already feeling the effects, but he wasn’t nearly drunk enough to fully cope with re-experiencing the worst of it by telling Danielle.

“….I tried telling them how sorry I was. How I never meant to cause them any pain, or humiliation…how I did everything I could, to keep Augustus safe…” He felt a little guilty admitting that to her. He knew what his brother was – what he had done, but he was still his brother. He loved him, and it hurt knowing that the only other choice he had was to take a bullet that wasn’t meant for him, just so Augustus didn’t have to go down alone. “I told them that even though they might not be proud of some of the decisions I’ve made in my past, that I was still their son...”

He stared into his glass, his jaw tightening again as he tried to keep himself composed - as he swallowed to try and ease the knot in his throat.

“He looked at me like I’ve seen him look at so many others…with a look of complete and utter repulsion, like the mere idea of it made him sick. Then he says two words...”

He stared into his glass, swallowing again, though it wasn’t enough to stop his voice from breaking as he repeated words that tasted so bitter on his tongue.

“‘Not anymore.’”

Again he downed the glass of whiskey, needing to get that horrible taste out of his mouth. He just needed to not feel the sting anymore. Those words had cut through him like a million tiny razors, but what really made him bleed was looking over at his mother, hoping that she would finally say something on his behalf - her silence tore him open, and the way she looked away from him just added insult to injury.

There was literally nothing she could do for him about any of this. Danielle never felt more helpless than when they talked about his family, about their beliefs and rules. It was one thing to not like your child’s significant other, but it was another to despise what they were enough to completely disown your own son. Her logical mind made her immediately question how much they truly loved Donovan to begin with, but she would never question that out loud, she would never put even more doubt into his mind about how important he had been to them.

But he meant everything to her. She’d gone those five years without him, distracting herself with her work, and the months they weren’t together here in England Danielle couldn’t keep her heart from aching to be with him. Donovan was her soul mate, if she could force her mind to believe such a thing. There was no way to logically explain the feeling, unless you went into the human psyche and that was a field she had no desire to dive into and---

Danielle let out a strangled, quick sound and slid off the couch to her knees, to push herself against the side of Donovan’s leg. She wanted him to look at her, but she was going to go to him because she was the reason behind so much of his pain.

“I promise you, Donovan,” she choked out, forcing herself not to cry but her voice was betraying her feelings. Danielle grabbed his hands, pulling them away from the glass she’d been letting him use to bury his emotions for far too long, “I promise I will never give you a reason to regret your decisions and I’ll---I’m working my hardest to be perfect for you, I---know I’m not---but for you, I can be.”

He felt the cushion move when her weight shifted, seeing her lower herself down to the ground out of his peripheral vision, even though he continued to stare down into his glass, finding it was still too hard to look at her directly. He didn’t have much of a choice though, when she pulled him away from the only distraction he had, his eyes turning to meet hers, feeling another rush of powerful emotions build in his chest as he searched those big, bright eyes of hers, listening to her make him promises – telling him she was working her hardest to be perfect. His brows stitched together, his head starting to shake midway through what she was saying, getting a more secure hold on her hands.

“…don’t you get it?”

He looked away from her face, turning his attention down to their hands. He was definitely a little drunk, after downing all that whiskey so quickly.

“Danielle…you don’t have to try to be perfect…because to me, you already are.”

His eyes met hers again, moisture building along his lower lid, threatening to spill over at any moment.

“Don’t for a second think that you have anything to prove to me…don’t feel like you need to change, or think that you could ever make me regret any of the choices I’ve made.”

He lifted a hand to be placed on the side of her face, his voice tight again as he spoke again.

“…all I wanted was for them to see you like I do. To love you, like I do.”

Her shoulder shook as his words brought more tears to her eyes, and Danielle smiled because how could she not? Her husband, her husband loved her unconditionally even with all the trouble their relationship had brought them. His parents might never speak to him again and he was still telling her that it was worth it. Danielle knew that if she was in the position that she’d give it all up for Donovan, but it was so hard to believe that he could for her. She believed him, she didn’t doubt him, but to accept that herself was always so daunting.

For the rest of her life she’d be living with the fact that her husband had been disowned. Their children would never know their grandparents and would be seen as blotches on the Rookwood tapestry. They would supposedly be sullying the name, and while it was terrifying to think about how hard that was going to be to deal with, Danielle knew she’d always come back to him.

She nodded quickly, moving in between his legs. Danielle straightened her back to be at eye-level with Donovan and she stared into his eyes, nodding and nodding to silently tell him that she understood. That she’d appreciate his love and devotion. Danielle couldn’t hold back any more; she pushed forward and kissed him roughly, her hands letting go of his only to pull him closer to her.