Who: Matt Summerby & Glenda Prewett!
What: NBD JUST YOUR DAILY HEROICS
When: Today!
Where: Some street
She hadn’t the faintest idea how only two people, one with a significantly smaller stomach, could go through an entire loaf of bread in less than half a week. It was as if it had disappeared; one minute there, another completely gone. Rather strange, and even more unsettling when Gleny truly thought about it (was she that busy that the food stock in the house was suffering?). Nevertheless, she had made her decision to put this to rest and buy some more before heading home from the station. Always one to be on top of things, she had already notified the daycare that she would be picking up Tristan a bit later than usual--- much later now with how slow the line was moving.
Letting out a silent sigh, Gleny leaned heavier against the glass window of the shop. This bakery was the best in the area, and even though it was muggle run, that had never stopped it from being her and Tristan’s favorite. In fact, the little place was so popular and so small, its customers had to wait outside in line before ordering. This aspect had never bothered her before, but being at the end of the line did have its trying attributes.
Gleny blinked, keeping her eyes closed a bit longer than necessary--- when a firm grip suddenly took to her arm. When she opened her eyes, an unfamiliar man was standing next to her, pushed close so that their sides touched. Alarmed, and confused, she went to jerk her arm out of his grasp, but that only tightened his clutch. Her eyes went wide as the man looked down at her and smiled strangely.
“No need to make a scene here with all these people around, aren’t I right Ms. Chittock. Who knows what could happen to them,” his voice was cold and low. Stoic, Gleny looked around. He was right, there
were too many people, and he had grabbed the side where her wand was located. Unable to see an opening for an escape or attack (whichever came first), she remained silent. After a few seconds of him watching her curiously, he gruffly began to pull her out of line and across the street. They probably would have looked like normal pedestrians if she didn’t insist on randomly dig her heels into the ground to make him jerk forward and back.
Matthew was in a somber sort of mood. His season had started out great, and while he was finally able to show people how well he could fly, he still hadn’t caught the snitch in a few weeks. What if he never did again? It was hard not to blame his shortcomings on the rest of his team, but when he was constantly getting flown into by the chasers, when the beaters confused him for the other team’s seeker and knocked him out cold, well! It greatly inhibited his ability to fly. It was the price to play to fly, and hopefully by the end of the season (or
more hopefully, the
trade deadline!) another team would want to have him as their own. He had to prove himself, though, and that meant learning how to deal with the poor performances of the Cannons’ players. Matt wondered if some old player had pissed off a witch long ago and a hex had been placed on the franchise. No one should be
this bad.
But! No feeling sorry for himself. Matthew was grateful to be on the pitch, and he had to keep his head up. His jog through the muggle neighborhood was his way to clear his mind; he didn’t have to deal with anyone recognizing him as that wannabe seeker from the Cannons. Out here, he could just be Matt. He could be himself, a hardworking, loyal Hufflepuff who had big dreams and----oof!
“Sorry!” he said, grimacing and putting his hands out to the older woman that he’d bumped into. She whacked him with her purse and continued on her way. Matt sighed; these jogs cleared his mind far too well. He wiped at his forehead and noticed the line outside the bakery. What, were they giving away free cookies? It wouldn’t hurt to
investigate. He made sure the traffic was clear before crossing the street, hoping that there
was some sort of giveaway because he was starving. Matt didn’t get a chance to find out, however, as his eyes locked onto a familiar face. Glenda Prewett! Chittock? Prewett. She was his favorite WWN host, and he’d even managed to talk to her at the last WWN event...even if it was just a ‘Happy Birthday!’ Merlin, she was quite a sight, but her strained expression was concerning. Who was that bloke on her arm? He wasn’t---no, this was definitely not right.
Matt made a beeline toward them, his worry growing stronger with each passing second, and
then he saw Glenda struggling to keep away from the bloke. Not good, not good. Who did this guy think he was, grabbing a lady like that? In broad daylight! The man didn’t seem to notice Matthew making his way toward him (no one usually did), and it was a good thing, too----Matt didn’t think he’d be able to to punch the guy in his jaw if he had.
“Oy! Off the lady!” he shouted, putting an arm between the man and Glenda after he stumbled away. Now, hopefully he wouldn’t have to do more than that, because his fist already bloody
hurt.
“Let go of me,” she snarled, trying her best to kick the man in the back of his knees. Gleny was quite sure she had not felt this level of rage in her life before. How
dare this--- this
man accost her like this! In public! Without even the slightest reasoning as to
why? He obviously knew who she was, which really only showed his complete lack of understanding about--- about--- everything! She had a son to take care of! Not to mention
everyone knew she was bad luck, not good to be around, practically the angel of---
Oh! She sprung back, surprised by this sudden aide. She had not been expecting that, she had not been expecting that at all. Gleny blinked blankly for a few seconds, struck. Struck by.... this wizard that she recognized but could not put a name to. He hadn’t needed to do that...
she had needed him to, but that wasn’t the same thing, helping out a random person on the street. And before Gleny could stop it, the thought that his act was something Gideon would have done creeped into the back of her mind.
She snapped back into reality as her accoster began to fumble toward them again. Not in the mood, and now feeling rather cross, Glenda did not hesitate to pull out her wand. Their backs were to the street enough that she felt comfortable no one would see. Relatively. Honestly she could care less if she was about to be fined by the Ministry, this ruffian needed a clear message that she was not about to play around. Her cold glare and stiff stance might have been lost half hidden behind her rescuer, but it seemed to be enough. After a few tense moments, her attacker turned around and high-tailed it down an alleyway (with a few choice words thrown over his shoulder--- ‘undeserving’ the most complexing of them all).
With that surprising turn of events gone for now, all signs of aggressiveness quickly washed from Gleny’s face. “Are you alright?!” she asked, brow full of worry as she approached this familiar wizard. She wished she could remember his name.
His fist
really hurt! Matthew had really underestimated how hard someone’s
face was, and he shook out his hand, completely bewildered at how much pain was shooting from his knuckles. He must not have done that right at
all. Matt’s eyes had been locked on the accoster when Glenda questioned his well-being, and he looked down at her with a confused expression before he broke out into a grin. He put his hand out (his
good hand) and touched her shoulder, dropping his gaze to look her in the eye.
“Are
you okay, Ms. Prewett?” he said, trying to garner her state of mind. She had to be frazzled, she had to be upset.
He was upset for her. Who knew what that bloke was going to do to her? The thought made his ears red, and he looked back, feeling as if he should have chased the man down. He’d grown too concerned for Glenda and let him get away. At least he’d gotten a good look at his face; with his photographic memory, he should be able to get a good sketch drawn up of him.
Matt’s eyebrows furrowed, looking back at Glenda. A pretty witch like herself shouldn’t be out all by her lonesome, but who really expected to be grabbed onto in broad daylight? A bakery like this one, a
muggle one at that, should not have been a place of concern, but apparently it was.
“Did you get what you needed?” Matt asked, his eyes jumping up to the awnings of the bakery. The long line hadn’t moved at all it seemed. These muggles were far too concerned with their desserts than the surrounding environment!
“I---” she started, again caught off guard by his familiarity. He had addressed her by her actual name, not just her public name-- Gleny’s guilt sunk deeper into her stomach. She basically had no idea who he was while he obviously knew her well enough to know her real
name, one that many simply did not say to her anymore, at that, and---- touching her! He was--- her shoulder---! She produced one of her well-trained smiles for him, pushing down these bubbling thoughts. It was not the time nor place, no matter how anxious it made her.
“Yes, thank you. Thank you! For helping me, I guess I didn’t... I just froze,” Gleny spoke smoothly, putting her hand to her forehead for a moment. To be honest, this-almost attack made her livid more than anything else. After everything that she had gone through because of the Order, an attempt like this, for whatever the purpose, felt more like an insult than anything else. Hadn’t she suffered enough to be left alone at least for a little while? Her bitter thoughts wandered until Gleny reminded herself, again, she had more important things to attend to right in front of her.
“Yes, I mean--- no,” she fumbled, shaking her head slightly. “But...” Gleny was far more concerned with his hand than her spot in the bakery line. What if he had done something funny to his hand? Because of her! Hands were important, you really couldn’t mess them up. “Let me see,” she pointed, then hastily added, “I would feel better knowing that you didn’t completely injure yourself helping me.” Unsurprisingly, her first statement had come out much more like an order than a request. And although she had already slipped her wand back into the folds of her clothes, she did know some simple healing spells.
Maybe talking to him more would help her remember his name! Encouraged by that thought, she beckoned her hand at his and waited patiently.
Matt flushed. Here he was, trying to be a hero, and he’d ended up letting the bad guy go
and busted his hand in the process. And in front of Glenda Prewett, his favorite WWN star! Merlin. He really knew how to ruin a good opportunity. He tentatively lifted his hand to let her take it, feeling red and hot all over. Merlin, at least they were out of sight of the muggles, then this could be
realy uncomfortable..
“It’s not so bad,”
Yes it is!, his throbbing fist screamed, but he couldn’t actually say that. He had to keep some face. “I’ve had worse---bludger to the chin last week knocked me out cold----I---I play quidditch,” he said, before she thought he was some loony getting attacked by rogue balls. But any fool on the street plays quidditch! “Pro! Pro quidditch! I----er.”
He didn’t have a problem telling people he was on the Cannons--it was public knowledge, he couldn’t
deny it, but now that he had to tell Glenda
Prewett that he was the seeker for the most miserable team in the history of quidditch, his tongue got tied and his blush deepened. He was happy to be starting, but it would have been much easier to tell her he was a reserve on a good team. Merlin, he was so ungrateful.
“For the Cannons...but I...” His voice trailed off as she started the healing spells on his hand. Matt lost his focus at the good feeling, in awe that Glenda could perform such magic. He’d always been rather shoddy at charms, and he marveled at her handiwork. He was usually unconscious when the healers did their magic, so it was a very new and interesting sensation. Matt watched her intently, quite impressed. “That’s really cool.”
“Hm?” she murmured, admittedly not fully paying attention to what he was saying until after she had done what she could. Glenda looked up late, and smiled weakly. She had never thought herself to be particularly good at healing, but she supposed that’s what happened when you were constantly surrounded by very capable people who would then go on to join accomplished organizations like the Order, for most of your life. “My friend taught me,” Gleny stated simply, not wanting dredge him through a sad memory.
Glenda took another moment to look at his face, thinking back to his jumbled words. Had he said pro quidditch? The Cannons? Quidditch... Gleny gripped his wrist in an almost excited manner as her mind clicked. Quidditch! Yes, that was it, his face was starting to become much more familiar now
because---
“With Gideon!” she blurted, relieved to finally able to put a face to a name and place.
Yes, she remembered now. He and Gideon had been reserves together on Pride, but had fallen out of touch when Gideon put more time into the Order--- Summers... Summerby! “Matt Summerby!” Gleny brightened, a heavy weight now lifted from her shoulders. She knew this person! He was not a stranger, a friend--- kind of. At the very least it was someone from her past that did not make her feel miserable.
Feeling significantly warmer now, Gleny let go of his wrist to clap her hands together. Vinny had always said he’d enjoyed his time with the Cannons, even though their record had been less-than-desirable. Their reputation as well. “You’re on the Cannons now? Good for you,” she said. Her head tilted slightly as she spoke, and her eyes almost closed from the extent of her smile.
“Yes! With Gideon!” He hadn’t been on the Pride for long (especially since Prewett’s brother came and took the seeker spot), but Matt had liked the bloke. Her husband. Her---dead husband. He would not be dwelling on that at the moment, because the twisting feeling in his stomach told him it wouldn’t be a good idea. Talking about the war was never something Matthew liked to get into because of his own troubled history with it. Too many questions started getting asked that he never felt comfortable asking. But! That didn’t matter now. She had remembered
his name, and Matt’s blush deepened at the thought that he was somewhat memorable.
Or she just had a really good memory. That could be it. Matt did! So---it was quite possible that Glenda Prewett did too.
At any rate, she hadn’t pulled a face at his mention of the Cannons and looked honestly happy for him. That was nice of her, not many people had that much class and composure. Actually, she was looking
very calm for someone who had been accosted in the way she had, and it made Matt think about all the things Glenda had been through in her life that made it seemingly
easy for her to handle something like this. He smiled sadly, involuntarily, and gestured toward the bakery.
“I wish we’d re-met under better circumstances,” he said, his grin widening once the darker thoughts had left his mind. Matt wasn’t one to dwell. “But I think you deserve at
least a cupcake for healing my hand.”
“Oh no,” Glenda started, waving her hand slightly as she spoke. That was out of the question. She hadn’t done much, really, anyway; just what she could. Matt was the one that had gone out of his way in an act of public bravery. Which... no one had noticed. How
had no one else noticed? She glanced back over her shoulder, hair bouncing as she did. This whole thing had been very strange--- why had no one else noticed? Muggles were not, as many believed, that unperceptive.
“You’re the one that deserves a huge cake! At
least,” she nodded, turning her gaze back to Matt with a smile. Now, she would like nothing more than to move on and forget this ever happened. Well, not
this right now, Gleny actually felt quite better now that she had remembered him, but the before--- part. She blinked quickly, shifting her thoughts to ones that made more sense.
“I insist,” Gleny eased, now turning fully to walk back toward the shop. “This bakery makes the
best desserts.” At the very least, something nice had come out of something potentially very bad, and that fact alone calmed Gleny enough to accompany him back toward their new spot in line. “You can call me Glenda, by the way,” she said, in passing. None of this Mrs. Prewett, it made her feel old and sad.
