WHO: Galvin Gudgeon and Gleny Prewett
WHAT: He brings over muffins and she's moving out :(
WHERE: Gleny's house
WHEN: Today!



Vinny didn't know what he was doing with himself. Since he'd come back to England, he'd given excuse after excuse as to why he was back, what was he doing, what was he up to, but besides helping the Order, he had nothing to say. He had told his parents he'd missed his family too much, but had barely been in contact with them since he'd been back. His sister forced him to go out with her by barging down his and Derek's door, and Davy was off in his own world, giving Vinny a reason not to attempt much interaction.

He knew he hated it, being a hermit, but he couldn't stop himself. There were few things he'd leave the house for, and felt guilty for enjoying the fact that Derek was nearly the same way. His friend and roommate couldn't scold him for not doing a damn thing if he wasn't either.

But, he couldn't help himself but worry about another one of his friends who was living this recluse, secluded life. Vinny had refrained from trying to get too involved in Gleny's life post the terrible attacks on her husband and brother-in-law, but now that her parents had been attacked and she was completely alone in the world save her son...Vinny found himself actually getting up before ten (...twelve) and prepping himself to go to see her. He had attempted some conversation through the journals and had failed miserable, so...now he was just going to knock on her door.

Vinny looked back and forth as the windy day sent chills through him. His jacket was buttoned up to the neck and his hands were buried in his pockets. Hopefully Gleny would actually open the door, these muffins wouldn't stay warm forever. Well. With magic they could, but that would ruin the purpose of his visit.

"Vinny---" Despite not being shocked to see him at her front door, Glenda still found her voice implying a bit of surprise. Maybe because she had been spending too long wrapped up in her own little world, or maybe because at this point it wouldn't be outrageous to assume that anyone would believe approaching her was dangerous on the account that everyone around her seemed to die. But. Either way, the fact was that not much seemed to surprise her, and while she hadn't thought about it, she should have known he would show up eventually.

"Come in," she ushered, stepping aside to let him in. While doing so, her foot hit a stack of boxes. Boxes from her parents house. What had happened Monday was--- just another reason to add onto the list. The very long list of why it was truly unnecessary for her to stay here anymore. The sad truth was that she had buried her husband and her parents within three months of each other, and while that would usually be enough to completely consume someone, people were still dying. At this point, the only thing that she could make sense of was leaving. Leaving this house, leaving this bloody country, just everything.

So she was leaving. She was packing up everything she could muster, taking the baby, and leaving. Glenda wrapped her cloak tighter around her waist as she lead Vinny into the kitchen, a quick glance going over to her son in the other room in his pen. Tristan had discovered an empty box--- least to say he would be occupied for the next few days. That was good, she hoped it would keep him from noticing all the boxes that were full. Not that he would know what it meant anyway.

"Are you--"

Vinny had stopped short as he entered the house, immediately noticing the boxes. He stared at them as if they were land minds, and he slowly made his way to the kitchen. She was leaving? She was moving away? "You're leaving? You--when?"

It wasn't as if he couldn't understand; Vinny understood her need to leave and disappear perfectly. He knew how ridiculously good the idea of leaving everything behind sounded, because then it couldn't hurt you anymore. He had jumped on the chance to leave for Canada and had known that it would not have taken him long to get out of Britain all together even if they hadn't offered him a contact. It had seemed like the easiest and best solution to get over the grief, but--here he was, more than a year later, as completely miserable and depressed as before he left.

"Where are you going?" Vinny couldn't find it in himself to argue with her about it. He wished he wasn't such a coward, that he could tell Gleny to stay without the fear of being called a hypocrite. She didn't need to leave, anywhere she went she'd be all alone, it didn't matter where on the planet you were you---he knew that she would feel alone.

Glenda pressed her lips together in an annoyed way, ready to fight back and defend her sudden decision to leave. Vinny of all people should understand how hard this must be, how difficult it is to live in a home that still smelled of Gideon, emulated him in every way despite being dead for three months. He had no right to judge her, no right to say anything about it to her, nothing. So she gripped her robe tighter, just waiting for the right moment to snap back.

But her anger quickly deflated as Vinny turned to her again, going in a completely different route than she had expected. Her shoulders sagged a little as her clutch on herself loosened. A sudden deep sadness filled her, and Glenda looked down at the ground to recollect herself. This was why she needed to leave, this very reason--- and it didn't alarm her at all that she had become a completely different person.

She was tired of being social, tired of having to constantly deal with people and put on (or at least pretend) a face that showed 'she was doing alright.' To see their faces, even people she didn't know-- it was becoming unbearable. It felt like she was suffocating, with no fresh air left to breath on this entire island.

"Italy," she muttered, pushing some hair back with one hand. That had been relatively easy to reveal to him.

Italy. Not as far away as Canada, but far enough. Did she even speak Italian? From how quickly she answered things must already be set, she Gleny had looked into this and was really going to leave. Vinny stared down at the tiles of the kitchen, feeling hollow, like cheap casing of a body he once enjoyed to live in. He knew he couldn't tell her not to go because he had fled much, much faster than Gleny. It was nearly---not even a week before he signed the dotted line for the Meteorites, he hadn't even given himself a chance to think it over. Gleny had been the one that was the saddest to see him leave, and Vinny found the position he was in right now terribly ironic.

"I hear the food's good," was all he could muster, and Vinny wanted to kick himself. That's all he could say to her? She had cried and pleaded for him to find another reason to stay, and that's all he could say? One of his best friends---Gleny was one of his best friends for---for nearly a bloody decade, and that was all he could say to her? He didn't deserve to be here, or even back in England. He needed to go back to Canada and crawl back into the hole of a life he'd created there. There was no reason for him to be here, if he couldn't help his friends like he desperately wanted to. "And the shopping. And--"

Vinny moved to put the bag of muffins on the counter and he was going to comment on how he'd found the place right by the Leaky Cauldron, when he spotted a pile of pictures waiting to be packed away. On the top was Frank Longbottom, grinning into the camera and his eyes darting darting to the small bundle of blue in his arms. Vinny had met Neville not too long after he was born, and Alice had...she had asked his permission to use the name, as Neville had been on the top of Marlie's baby name list for who knows what reason. The Longbottoms wanted to honor their friend, and how could Vinny have denied them that?

"And no matter what you do you'll see things that make you think of her," he muttered, reaching for the picture. Vinny could perfectly imagine how Marlie would have reacted on the day her best friend gave birth, and he felt his chest constricting at how wonderful of an event it really could have been. "You're going to wake up in the middle of the night hearing her voice, and you'll feel the happiest you've ever been because she's back---"

His mouth twisted, knowing those nights all too well, "And then you fall back into your pillows, more depressed than before because she's not back, and your mind's taking some sick joy in reminding you."

Oh.

This should feel awkward, shouldn't it? Being witness to Vinny's obviously intended-to-be private mutterings. Normal people would find this strange, normal people would find this sad--- but all Glenda could muster to feel was practically nothing. She stared openly at him, and as if frozen where she stood, made no movement. Almost like if Vinny saw even a flash of motion it would knock him out of whatever trance he had put himself in.

Was this her future? Was this going to be her in three years? Still desperately fighting with fresh emotions? Still unable to function properly because one little thing could set her off? Still tortured? Glenda felt her whole body tense up as her thoughts wandered to how horrible the night had become. It was difficult to decide what was worse, Tristan constantly calling for his father, or that every time she lay down the fact was Gideon that was never going to be next to her again completely consumed her. That she knew was never going to go away, night was always going to be unbearable, but--- the day as well?

How was that fair? None of this was fair, no one deserved this! Not even the evilest-- so what had she ever done in her life to deserve this much pain? Such unbearable pain, everyday--- it wasn't wrong to run away, she just couldn't bare it anymore, she couldn't! Look at Vinny---

Glenda pulled her lips together tightly to hold back the fresh wave of emotions upon her. Her cold chest warmed, and she couldn't help her next actions; her arms flew to his chest, pushing herself close to him as she buried her face into his clothes. "Tell me everything is going to be okay," she choked. "Just--- tell me it will all be fine." She didn't care if he had to lie, she just wanted to hear someone who actually understood say it. Maybe it would help her.

"Oh--"

Vinny's arms shook awkwardly by the sides of Gleny and he stared down at the top of her head. He could barely understand her words, but as he deciphered the mumbles his heart sank. This was exactly what he wasn't supposed to be doing. He was supposed to be helping Gleny, and letting her know that she didn't have to be miserable forever. Vinny knew he couldn't physically prove that to her, right now, but he did believe that one day...things would be okay. It was hard to see that far into the future, but at least the tiny glimmer of hope was there. Maybe that's why he came back to fight for the Order; it was something that would lead him closer and closer to that day when the pain would not constantly throb in his chest.

Without further hesitation his arms clasped themselves around Gleny and Vinny held her close. She was his friend, one of his best friends, and she was always going to be in his life. Even if she did move across the continent. He had to let her know that he believed in her, and supported her, and that she and Tristan were going to live a full and happy life, even without Gideon. As painful as it might sound, they were going to make it because...well, because they wanted to. Gleny wouldn't be making any sort of effort if she didn't want to someday feel better. Getting up and doing something was a sign of healing, even if you felt like the biggest coward in the world.

"It's going to be fine," he said, sounding sure of himself for the first time in a long, long time. Vinny let out a sigh, teetering back and forth like they used to in school (Hufflepuff girls liked to cling, it was a fact). "You're going to go and be sad for a little bit, yeah, but...Tristan'll start talking, and running, and he'll be a blast. And then he'll get old enough to get home schooled or something, and before you know it, he's heading off to--whatever school they've got over there.

"And it won't be so lonely, really--we've got those nifty journals," Vinny said, finding it easy to see things that Gleny could appreciate, "and good old fashioned owling, of course. Who knows, maybe we can have a Hufflepuff reunion in Rome, or something. And you definitely won't be alone for Christmas, because there's no way in hell I'll allow that."

Vinny pulled back and looked down at Gleny, his face scrunching into a smile, "You're a helluva girl, Gleny, you're going to be fine."

Despite undeniably wanting to believe Vinny, Glenda couldn't quite get her head to wrap around what he was saying to her. Was she really going to be fine? Really? Because where she was right now hardly felt like achieving fine was going to be difficult. In fact, she had convinced herself that for the rest of her life she wouldn't be fine--- there would never be a moment were she could truthfully say to someone that she felt fine. And neither would Tristan, for that matter. Her son needed a father figure in his life-- his real father-- not to mention had been subjected to things such as house invasion and death eaters while still an infant. His emotionally defunct mother who could barely keep herself together at the best of times, so how in the world she was going to keep him emotionally sound was beyond her.

The thought of how angry she still was at Gideon for leaving her that morning resurfaced, leaving her thoughts to wander. So angry, hurt at both herself and him. If she had only-- how could he do this to her? Them? He promised---

She thought she would have been all cried out by now--- but no, there apparently was more within her. Large, round tears began to fall from in her eyes, and Glenda made no effort to hide them, or even brush them away. Vinny had seen much worse, more inappropriate mental breakdowns than this one; they should hope that there would only be crying on her part this time. But the fact that what Vinny was saying did not make her feel better, despite his best efforts, did not help to this problem. Actually, his words made her feel more miserable. Glenda had no idea what kind of answer she was looking for (maybe not one at all). But this encouragement...

Tristan growing older, keeping in touch with journals, a reunion all made her want to sink away into obscurity faster. For someone who had been very dependent on others, Glenda found herself avoiding social situations entirely now. It was just so much easier to be upset, or mad by herself without someone beside her wanting to help. Was that wrong? Yes, she was sure, but her anger and guilt overrode everything these days.

Eventually Glenda pulled her gaze back up to Vinny to find that he was smiling too much for her liking. Some incoherent mumblings escaped her as she loosened her grip on him, and she slowly began to back away. "I should--- continue packing," she muttered, looking down at the ground as she spoke. "Thank you for the muffins." Her eyes rose up to the opposite side of the room, refusing to refocus on her visitor.