WHO: Joy & Rosalie Diserafino
WHAT: Random meetings
WHEN: July '78
WHERE: London
NOTE: Rosalie → Doom

Don't get her wrong, Joy didn't go out shopping anymore for fun. After the first rag had come out about her, with all those pictures, she--well, you didn't know where they were hiding or when they were snapping shots of you and--just suffice it to say that she didn't enjoy going out as much as she used to. But she knew (now, at least) that she couldn't lock herself up in the house and avoid the stores in favor of depriving herself of things she needed, Finn needed, Cormac needed (because all her pigging out as not totally her fault).

Normally, she would have just hung around the house until Finn came home and make him at least go out with her. She didn't just like the not being alone, it helped in that the papparazzi hated it when they looked like they were getting along... in other words, when they were looking boring. However, only a few days into Quidditch pre-reason, Joy had realized that there was no more just waiting for Finn to come home. Pre-season took up a lot more time than she had thought it did and not only that, but he was always worn out after a long day of being out on the pitch. She knew by now the look on his face that said he just wanted to collapse on the couch with dinner and watch some football and that he didn't want to deal with her dragging him out. Joy knew by now that if they wanted to get anything done, seeing as he was now back working, she was going to have to go out and do it herself.

It was a new and extremely disturbing feeling, this sense of responsibility, and yet the idea came to her completely naturally. It was just like the thought had just come to her one day, laying around and trying to paint her toenails over her (ugh, freaking huuuuge) stomach, and she had decided to drop everything and just... get up and go out. She had picked up some quick, instant sorts of foods for dinner the next few days--and something else. Glancing down into her bag, Joy caught sight of the cookbook she had grabbed as a last thought while checking out.

Could you imagine it? Her. Making an attempt to learn how to cook.

Of course Finn was going to laugh at her when he saw it, so she had decided that she wasn't going to show it to him. Shouldn't be difficult to practice with him not being at home and--well, even if she was unsuccessful, it would give her something to do and--and okay, so maybe Joy kinda wanted to be able to do something truly motherly, being all four months away from having a son and all. Not that she really had much hope that she could succeed, don't hold your breath, but--oh, whatever, she could put it up to hormones if she really sucked it up.

Yes, she would definitely hide it from Finn, she thought as she exited the grocery store and started off down the street. But still... she was being ambitious, and she was proud enough of that--proud enough to get ICE CREAM! Gleeful over her own personal achievement of the day and the convenient placement of this ice cream stand she had just spotted, Joy made her way over posthaste and settled herself in the back of the sort queue. Right behind a slightly older blonde girl with moderately long hair.

A familiar slightly older blonde girl, even from the back.

Too bad she didn't realize it until too late. Oh dear.

Rosalie ran a hand through her hair as she waited in line, unwittingly almost knocking the girl behind her in the face; Rosalie was even less witting about the fact that this girl was her sister. Touching her hair at all was a tricky proposition, since she was already holding a half-eaten cone in one hand; luckily she was coordinated enough to manage. There weren't any folk sayings about how Bleeding Hearts Always End Up With Melting Cones, but she was in the running to start one. She'd purchased it and been back at the office before having to come back--the Auror in question had a bad enough day without having to see her eating an ice cream cone that he could not have, and the look of pining he'd given her snack was enough to break Rosalie's heart. So here she was, waiting in line for his while eating her own, scowling at her generous pushover spirit and hoping he'd finally sign and return that stack of bloody files she'd been hounding him about.

Oh, Rosalie's mind was on a lot of people, but it certainly wasn't on her younger sister Joy. Unfortunately, when she tried to adjust her hands to look at her watch, her fingers slipped, and the napkins were.

Joy did not squeal when the napkins fluttered around her--they were just paper after all--but she did squeal when she saw their owner turn around to pick them up. Ohhh shit, how could she have not even realized that hair, that--stupid, she was so stupid! Joy caught one of the napkins from the air and positioned it casually (meaning not at all) in front of her face as she picked up the rest for Rosalie before she could reach them.

"Here, here! Sorry, ma'am--here!" she stuttered quickly, pushing them back into her sister's hands and turning around to walk off briskly. If she was lucky, Rosalie would not have noticed that it was her and not suspected her at all by the sudden and very strange exit she had been making, but oh Joy knew she wasn't that lucky, she felt the eyes on her back and fuck--she had hoped that she could avoid seeing her sister until... well, she didn't know, but at least until after Cormac was born or something! Wasn't this a position to catch her in, wearing her mistake, the reason they hadn't spoken for months, right under her Psyke Smith maternity clothes?

Never. leaving. the house. without Finn. EVER. AGAIN.

"Joy!"

--was not what Rosalie felt when she identified and pursued her younger sister out of line. It had taken her a long puzzled second to pick up on it, sure. She'd wondered what reason the petite pregnant woman could conceivably have for holding a napkin over her face like that. It wasn't until the speedy exit that her mind caught up with her eyes and she thought to follow. Rosalie hoped desperately that she was mistaken and felt that was a good possibility. Sure, this girl could run from what was due her just like Joy could, but Joy couldn't be nearly so massive, not--

But it had been a long time. The older sister's face was an equal cocktail of pain and confusion. She didn't know why she was following, she didn't know if it was her, and she didn't know what she'd say if she caught up, but she was following, certain and speaking nonetheless. "Joy?"

Of course she had seen her, of course she was going to follow her. She shouldn't have spoken, that probably gave it away, she should have shut up and not said anything and just left because of course she was going to recognize her voice and oi she was calling after her now and this wasn't good, this wasn't good at all. She really didn't want to talk to her sister right now. And what if there were papparazzi? They'd have a blast putting a story to these pictures, or maybe they'd even hear what was going on--Merlin, why had she left those sunglasses of Finn's on the kitchen island? They would have done her a whole lot of good right about now.

Taking a deep breath, Joy took a moment to steel herself beause the footsteps behind her obviously weren't stopping and she knew that Rosalie was not going to stop. Forcing a smile onto her face, the younger of the sisters halted and spun around as cheerfully as she could.

"Yes?" she asked, her voice coming out high and tense. "Oh, Rosalie! I hadn't noticed that was you!"

"Oh?" She replied, in a sentiment that could have been cutting, but was really only perplexed, as she stood there watching her younger sibling and ignoring the steady trickle of vanilla over her fist. Her small mouth was actually hinged open, moving around words that defied her. Joy Diserafino; Merlin, it could be Joy McLaggen if those dratted rags (which she enjoyed for their every insight but this one) were correct. She was extremely pregnant. She was panicking. She'd wanted ice cream obviously--how strange it was trying to put together pieces as if by spell-o-tape when she'd spent the months before snooping in every aspect of Joy's life!--and now she was flitting about as tense and golden as a snitch.

At this juncture she could not achieve anything like comprehension or remorse. Her eyes, still wide, read nothing but shock. "How are you?"

Well, that wasn't what Joy had been expecting. She had anticipated something more like an angry lecture, or a lecture of any kind really, one of those ones that Rosalie was so good at giving that always made her younger sister feel like a complete tool. Joy didn't particularly think she deserved any kind of lecture--if she said so herself, she thought she was doing pretty bloody well with her situation. She was living with the father of her child, actually making an effort to be friends with him, she wasn't going out partying at all anymore just for the sake of her baby, she was taking care of herself, she--she even had a job that she hadn't fucked up yet.

So why was she expecting a lecture? Well, Rosalie had never been particularly proud of her ever, so why shouldn't she find something to lecture her about now? Or maybe she would just kick her out again.

Okay, so those thoughts might have been Joy's attempt to rile herself up enough to get mad at Rosalie again, because she wanted her to deserve the angry lecture for once, but--no, it wasn't working. Not when she was being nice, she--damn it all! "I'm fine, just out getting something for dinner," she answered, with none of the malice she had hoped she might be able to muster. Guh. "You?"

It was a thing of shrill beauty when two edgy Diserafino women spoke airily and with exclamation points. Rosalie tried to look relaxed but succeeded only in shifting her shoulders, then returing to her original posture. She was overcome with the strongest urge to either hug or shriek at her sister, perhaps simulteaneously. It was the bump that did it. She wanted to knit booties and pull hair; mostly she just wanted to wave her arms in such a manner that her ice cream would be tossed upon the lapel of an innocent bystander.

Ice cream for dinner? Well that can't be the most responsible of pre-natal... but that self-righteous train of thought fizzled and died, which was probably for the best.

She looked down at the bag, and attempted an "Oh!" of comprehension as she distractedly licked a line of vanilla off the back of her hand. But she did not comprehend. Joy had not brought many consumer goods into their own household that weren't woven from expensive natural fibers or bottle shapes wrapped in discrete brown paper. That Joy was holding cooking materials now might have fractured her mind in several places had she not, in the confusion, seized upon the one explanation that sounded cheerful and plausible: "Finn has a cook?"

Joy blushed instantly at the question because Rosalie had to know that even if she had spent the months that they hadn't seen each other learning how to cook, she probably would still be dismal at it. She remembered a time when they had still been living together when Rosalie had forbidden her from cooking because she almost burned down the kitchen... well, it wasn't her fault Daddy had always had a personal chef! It wasn't like she'd had a mother like Rosalie to teach her those things, oh no--but she wasn't going to get bitter about that now. It was neither the time nor place and completely off the subject at hand.

"No, ah... he doesn't, but..." Joy hesitated, feeling like an idiot even though she didn't know why. "Well, he's been out late a lot and we never really eat very well because he doesn't cook either" --albeit the fact that when he tried, he did better than her-- "and I was going to try to maybe make something... I don't know. I'm trying to learn."

She didn't add the fact that she'd probably have to call Elena or Tibs in tears when she burned the food. Rosalie didn't need to know that.

"Oh, well that's... that's very dear of you," Rosalie said blankly, which was her way of willing up a space that might otherwise have been filled with surprise--surprise to a degree which her sister might have found insulting. Joy was cooking now? Was she using 'try' in the way that Rosalie used it, a shorthand for being modest? Did Joy cook better than she did, where she and her father's child eating luscious home-cooked meals every night? Her frantic suspicions were less than logical but more than concerning. When she'd demanded that Joy try life without her, Rosalie had never prepared herself for the possibility that she might succeed.

For the first time Rosalie realized how awful that was. Then again, objectively, Joy's food would probably be pretty awful too.

She attempted to work her face into a cheerful smile, but that usual sense of politics didn't work here. "Are you, um, having any luck?"

Joy wondered if she should lie rather than completely admit that she was horrible and embarass herself... well, but she really hadn't tried yet, so it wasn't like saying she was dismal at cooking would be the truth... she didn't know yet, so it wouldn't be a total lie... "I think I'm getting there," she answered with a small, no less relaxed than before smile. "But I think just about anything right now is better than eating cereal seven nights a week, so I guess I'd need a third opinion. Cormac's really getting tired of cereal."

Joy tried to force out a laugh, but it didn't come up very well. At least not like her normal, happy, excited, borderline-annoying laugh. To avoid her sister's gaze, she looked down and rubbed her ever-growing stomach adoringly, as if she was looking straight through herself and right at her son... it was a lot easier to imagine, these days. He was becoming like a real person as the months went on and he didn't even look like a shrimp anymore!

Suddenly feeling a little more consoled, a little more content, Joy found it in herself to look up at Rosalie again. "So uh... how about you? How are things going?"

It felt like there was a wall between them, but that wasn't exactly true; there was a person between them, not an irresponsible concept: a little child person who would actually be born in the way that little child people often were. Rosalie had thought she knew something about melting from the ice cream dripping from the side of its cone. She knew nothing about melting. Watching a little sister stroke her stomach and the nephew, the Cormac within? That was melting. It left a painful metal taste in her mouth; it felt like it'd been squezed up from her throat, and something was still squeezing because it was difficult to breathe.

"It's, um..." she tried to find a word. "It's work," she chuckled intangibly. It was the same work it had been five months ago, if more dangerous and a touch less satsfying. "I got a cat?"

"Oh, that's cool. We got a pet too, a dog--Donnelley," Joy answered, the adorable face of their tiny puppy popping up in her mind and further lifting her mood. "Finn brought him home one day, kind of as practice, I guess. I think we're doing good, he seems happy!"

Joy was quite proud of that, that they hadn't killed their dog yet and that he liked them and was excited to see them and all that. Of course she knew that a dog was a far cry from a human baby, but it was something. She'd have liked to think that it meant that she wasn't a total fuck up as far as the mothering thing went. "And work--I've got a job now, too. It's just as Finn's assistant and it's really kind of, well... it's kinda cover-up" --she said that in a whisper, she had to be vigilant of who was around-- "but I think I've been doing it well!"

So she wasn't trying to boast.. well, maybe she was a little. Some little--big--part of her wanted to show her sister that she had been wrong. That Joy Diserafino could buck up and do things and be responsible when she wanted. That she was growing up.

She smiled at that--weakly, and even a touch bitterly, and without knowing why. "Well, um..." she tilted her head trying to articulate pride she didn't quite feel, "...good for you!"

Rosalie nodded. She was committing all that she could to this exclamation, including a small go-get-'em gesture with the cone hand, and yet it still felt empty, like if you shook it only one or two things would rattle inside. Even her smile was complicated: her cheeks were dimpled, but her lips were tight. She'd taken to breathing through her nose. She was an awful person. This was exactly what she would have wanted, but it felt like there was ice cream in her veins now, cold and sticky. "I mean, cooking, and then dogs, it's... well. I'm glad things are looking up."

Joy had the sudden and inexplicable urge to bite back "No thanks to you", but she somehow managed to stop herself before she said it. Truly, she was mad at Rosalie still for what she had done, and her sister deserved any cruel words she had to throw the other woman's way, but more powerful than that anger was the desire to not argue with her. She didn't want to fight now, even if this wasn't really talking and it was awkward and strange, she missed speaking to her. She was even a bit relieved right now that they weren't ripping each other's heads off.

Maybe she could put it off to hormones later (like she did most things nowadays), but maybe she really was growing up. Maybe not just responsibility-wise, but emotionally as well.

That was a scary thought. "Yeah, thanks," Joy answered, a strange note to her voice--not over Rosalie, but the thought that had just swam through her head. "I'm glad you're doing well, too. And... how's Daddy? I, ah... I haven't seen him since before I saw you and..."

For a bit Rosalie stared back at her with the same blankness she'd worn at the start of their conversation. Daddy? It took some time for the pieces to connect in her mind. Of course Joy couldn't have known that informing him of Joy's pregnancy had come in the same breath as blaming him for it, that she was estranged from everyone and their pet rabbit these days. She couldn't have known. Who would have told her? That Rosalie hadn't had their father growing up made her slightly cavalier about blaming him now--and after the way he'd treated their mother, she didn't have much sympathy for him.

"He's doing alright," she assured her, which was the truth as she knew it; their contact had been strained, but more frequent than her and Joy's, and he would have mentioned if something had been seriously wrong. She could not vouch that he was happy but could vouch for his health, such as it was. "We're not really... we don't talk that often, you know. But he's doing alright."

Joy gave a small sound of relief at that. Maybe even more than her sister sometimes, she missed her father. They had always been so close and she had always been his little princess and when he had also forsaken her for her mistakes, it had broken her heart. Joy imagined, however, that facing Christopher Diserafino again would be much harder than this was. The look of disappointment on his face when she'd told him of... of all this and... well, it had been a little too much to bear. She didn't know when she would ever have the courage to see him again.

Some Gryffindor she was.

"I'm really glad to hear that," she admitted quietly. Joy almost added 'tell him I send my love', but thought better of it immediately. No, her father was angry at her enough already, for Rosalie to tell him she thought of him might make him angrier. "And Mother?" The complete formality of the title and her more reluctant tone of voice said that Joy really didn't care how their mother was, but she would ask for Rosalie's sake. She didn't blame the latter for loving her--after all, she had actually been loved by their mother.

A slight color rose in her cheeks at Joy's tone, but she wrestled it down into her stomach again. Their mother was a topic best left to... well, as infrequently as possible. When their opinions differed between a resourceful, nurting, clever woman and a selfish, abandoning devil slag, how was there to be any reconciliation? "She's in Austria," Rosalie nodded casually, unwilling to lend more than the minimum, polite emotion to that statement. She knew why she was there, but while she knew Joy would know, she didn't expect Joy to understand; though if anyone in this family was to feel compassion for a woman who'd followed her boyfriend out of the country..!

"How's the baby?" she asked carefully. "Is everything...?"

Joy hadn't expected any more than she was given and honestly was quite glad that Rosalie had the foresight to not say any more. She had to know that her sister only asked out of courtesy, that she could care less if their mother was dead in a gutter somewhere... people would say it was cruel, but anyone who knew their mother (apart from Rosalie, of course) knew that the sentiment was mutual. Merlin, but she hoped Cormac would never feel that way about her--she hoped she never gave him a reason to.

"He's fine," Joy said, glad to be off the topic. "Growing a lot... I think he's going to be a big boy, like his dad. We named him Cormac--if you didn't hear, I mean. After one of Finn's relatives and... yeah. Cormac Gianni McLaggen." She seemed to almost glow at saying the name. It was astounding how purely happy it made her.

Rosalie followed her off the topic with as much uneasy enthusiasm as she could. Now that they were speaking of the baby as a certainty instead of a mistake, her mind was filled with a flurry of responsibilities and possibilities; things she had not been expecting when she left for an innocent ice cream cone that afternoon. She didn't know how she felt about the fact that she was talking to her sister again. Well, she did know: she felt badly. She knew that she shouldn't, but she did. She felt small and frantic and disconnected--like the worst thing she could have run into today was perspective, and now she had it in spades.

"Oh! I had a goldfish named Gianni." That didn't in the least minimize her enjoyment of the name, but she still regretted saying it, and hoped a sheepish half-smile, half-wince would beg enough apology.

It wasn't exactly the response Joy had been expecting, but Rosalie was obviously as uncomfortable with talking to her as she was talking to Rosalie. She figured she could let it slide for the sake of getting along, act like she hadn't really heard it. "Yeah, it's Italian... An Irish name and an Italian name--Finn's Italian too, did you know? I'm convinced Cormac's going to be the most handsome boy ever."

She laughed quietly, still a little nervously and realized that she was out of things to say. It didn't used to be this way, she used to be able to never stop talking to Rosalie, but things had changed... Joy wondered if that would never change again, and stomped out the thought quickly. That was just too dismal to think of. She needed to make amends with her sister, not only for her, but... Joy took a deep breath and pursed her lips for a moment, looking Rosalie in the eyes, all seriousness.

"Look, I know we're not... well, we're not great friends... right now, but--I'd like you to, um... you know.. be around? You don't have to, it's just--well... if he's got an aunt, he... I want him to know you, Rosie. If you don't still, you know... hate me, or something."

There was only so much that could be expressed in an accidental meeting between estranged sisters, even if one was glowing with pregnancy and the other one was absently gesturing with a melted vanilla ice-cream cone. Five months. Rosalie knew things had to have happened to her in five months, but while everyting in Joy's life had changed and matured, Rosalie wasn't sure she had anything to show for it but a new desk in the same location and three failed flatmates who'd all tried to get out of paying rent.

So Rosalie was touched by the offer, because she knew that she wasn't the one in a position to make it: that Joy had been hurtful but Rosalie had been wrong, and she'd messed up in ways that she couldn't blame on youth or intoxication. There was a subtle shift in her face, a quiet inhale she tried to make casual, and a hitch in her voice when she stopped blinking and spoke. For all her peaceful advice to others she'd never been good at receiving grace. She smiled weakly. She wanted to touch her on the shoulder or something, although probably not with the melty hand. She closed her eyes.

"I don't hate you, I don't, it was just... but, hey," Rosalie said warmly and gingerly, "What could it hurt to try and get in touch again."

Joy allowed herself feel a little surge of hope at those words, and she smiled at Rosalie, genuinely this time. "Maybe you could come to dinner one night," she suggested tentatively. "I can't tell you without my planner, but Finn's got some days off every once in a while... you could meet Tiberius and Elena, too--that's his brother and sister-in-law. I think you'd like them, Tibs reminds me a lot of you."

She wasn't truly sure if a dinner invitation was too fast or not, but it was the only thing she could think of. And at least then she could show Rosalie her life now, introduce her to Joy's new 'family' and maybe, in time... bring her into that fold. It couldn't hurt, right?

"What do you say?" The way she looked at her implored the other woman to agree... Merlin, she wanted this more than anything right now. How nice would it be to be back on good terms with her older sister?

She steeled herself against the glowing panic that these words stirred in her. What could it hurt trying to get in touch again? Quite a lot, she feared: at the moment they lived on opposite sides of a narrow but peaceful membrane, but a rupture would be horrific. And what if they thought of Rosalie the things she probably deserved, but could explain? And what if she had to defend herself against them? What if those other people cared half as much for her younger sister as she did?

What if they assumed they cared more?

Oh, that Auror who'd begged her out was not getting any ice cream! He would be lucky if he got so much as a passing glance over the next few days. Putting her on the spot like this. She swallowed and lifted the edges of her lips into a smile. "I think I'd fancy that very much. Or--you know. We could have lunch or something first." She smiled sideways and added quickly. "Not that I don't trust you to cook, but, you know, I haven't had much excuse to go to Papa Bellini's..." This wasn't entirely true, she got take-out from the Italian restaurant around the corner from their flat at least once a month, but the location seemed... comfortable. A lot less threatening than meeting the New Guard.

Joy laughed shortly. "Oh, trust me, I wouldn't be cooking. When Finn and I want something good, we ask Tibs and Elena--or one of them brings something around, they do that a lot. Tibs has really taken care of us, he's my god of ice cream." It amazed her after she said it that she hadn't actually indended her words to prove to her sister that she had another person to watch after her that wasn't her. Now that she'd said it, that's how it sounded, but--no, she was just really grateful for Tibs and Elena being around. Joy figured that they deserved to be raved about to anyone who would listen.

"Lunch would be good, though, if you think dinner is too much... just with Finn, maybe, then? I know you guys, ah--that you met that once when you came around, but... yeah, I heard that didn't go great, but maybe... yes, maybe that would be better. You guys can meet under better circumstances before you meet the rest of the family."

Joy was sure that Rosalie and Finn would be able to find a way to get along. After all, when they met, he had still been grappling with the stress of her moving in, and the very new idea that he was going to be a father and--well, and her sister was far more level-headed than her, so if she and Finn got along, surely he could handle Rosalie, right? Right. She had to tell herself that it would be okay. It would.

"Oh, well, I'm... I'm glad to hear that." She was glad that her sister was taken care of. She was glad she had people to talk to, to... feed her, since it seemed like that was required; it was just too much for the present. She divided her lips in a bittersweet smile. If you'd asked her at any point before this conversation if Rosalie wanted to meet the god of ice cream, her answer would have been an overwhelming yes; now she felt inclined to dislike him for no good reason, and had to chide herself harshly to the contrary.

She tilted her cone to avoid some nasty dripping. It was interesting to grow gradually aware of the world again, of--time; she had a meeting to organise, a world of Things That Were Work to keep rolling smoothly. Rosalie nodded sideways, backtracking and holding up a hand of assurance. "Or dinner. Really. I'm flexible, I'm... open. Whatever's good for you two." It was the numbers that got her, not the location or timeframe.

She thumbed behind her, apologetically, her shoulders slumping. "I have to get back..."

"Oh no, lunch is fine!" Joy said quickly. Honestly, she would agree with anything at the moment to make Rosalie happy... well, not anything, but she would at least take her lunch suggestion. "Anyway, Finn's less irritable during the day than when I've had to pluck him up off the couch at night," she added, jokingly and with a small wink.

She was about to add something more when Rosalie made her motion of leaving. Joy frowned, but nodded understandingly. She had to get back too, of course, but only because there was a really good soap coming on soon. It seemed there were still some things that would never change between the two sisters.

"Yeah, that's alright, I should go too," she said, pushing her purse up on her shoulder. "I'll, ah... I'll check his calendar when I get home and owl you with some dates, alright?"

"Yes!" she assured her. "Yes, that would be lovely." And it would be lovely. She would will it lovely. Everything in the world would be gloriously rose-colored, the stars would sing in the sky, the spaghetti would be amazing and all would be just so civil that it made them ache. Oh yes; that was exactly what would happen. It would happen that way because that was the only way it could, since anything less would probably kill them both.

She smiled and resolved herself into cheer. It didn't work completely, but it allowed some hope to creep in and help dilute the dread. "I will see you soon then!"