A Talk With the Cousin

Psyche sat at a table, legs crossed, and tapped her fingertips on the tabletop. Waiting for her cousin was dull, and knowing Clover, she would be late. Again.

She glanced up at the clock, watching it tick. Clover, where the hell are you. Statement more than question.

There was no reason why the two cousins didn't talk during the school year, besides the fact that Psyche hardly wanted anything to do with anyone. When she finally saw her cousin enter the pub, she stood up and glared. "Where the hell have you been? I've been waiting for a minute and a half!"

"Darwin, I'm kind of late for something, so if you'd please just five me the potion and let me pay you later I'd really appreciate it - "

"Nothing doing, Clove," the American wizard replies, waggling his eyebrows in a way that distorted his face almost grotesquely; she giggles despite herself, rooting even further into her purse as he watche her. Darwin is an average looking man with brown hair and eyes, but he and Clover go all the way back to being pen pals in first year, so she tends to buy things from him rather than the slightly less expensive shops. "Knowing you, you'd completely forget about it and I'd never get paid."

She sticks out her tongue childishly at him, but makes no move to prove otherwise, instead finally taking out a fistful of knuts, a few sickles and a galleon. She counts it out as quickly as she can, passing it across the counter to him; he slides the Wolfsbane over at the same time. She immediately stuffs it in her purse and hurries out, giving him a hasty good-bye as she starts to run towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"Sorry, Psyche!" she calls after sprinting 3 blocks, panting heavily as she leans against he pub's doorway. Luckily the bar is sparsely populated, the only residents a man in one corner who seems shitfaced drunk and Psyche, who is glaring at her for her less-than-five-minute lateness (which for her really isn't that bad). "I was buying my potion and I couldn't find my money and you know Darwin, he's practically a politician." She slumps onto the table, her breathing still loud. "So, um, have you ordered?"

She raised her eyebrows at her younger cousin. "Yeah, you should be. I need to tell you something important. I haven't even told Rena."

She looked at the drunk in the corner. "That's just disgusting," she muttered as he tipped his bottle, looking for one final drop. He placed it over his eye and the drop fell out. Screams were resonating through the pub.

Psyche sat down and he expression softened. "Oh right. I forgot it was that time of the month again. Oh yes. Darwin." She never really liked Clover's friend. "Not yet. I was waiting for you. You go ahead and order."

Clover isn't that relaxed, but when she hears the proclamation she tenses up even more, transferring to the edge of her seat. "You haven't even told Sira?" She watched Psyche carefully. Psyche rarely trusted anyone, and Clover probably wasn't the best person to tell a secret to, but if it was so big she couldn't talk to anyone else..."What's the big thing?"

Clover gives the man a sympathetic look. She had seen the smashed phone on her way in. She had also seen the broken heart necklace that his girlfriend must've persuaded him to wear. "Not disgusting," she murmurs, her voice so soft she isn't sure whether or not Psyche can hear her. "Just sad."

Clover laughed. "When you say it like that..." she giggles, beaming at her unemotional cousin. "But thanks for understanding. Come on, Psyche, Darwin's a nice person! Just because he's American doesn't mean you should automatically hate him." She frowns across the table at the Malfoy before her face lights. "Really? I get to choose? Alright! HEY, WAITER, WE'RE ORDERING!" She yells, waving down a man in black.

"No. And I need you to keep quiet about this. Like really quiet. You can't tell anyone." Psyche sighed, frowning. "I don't think I want to get married to Max anymore. I don't even think he even loves me anymore. He's just been so distant and I don't know what the hell's going on. He's one of my best friends too. I- I don't know."

In all honesty, Psyche felt like breaking down. She felt like crying and screaming and tearing her hair out. But she couldn't. She had a reputation to uphold, after all.

She pretended not to hear Clover. Her cousin always had a habit of assuming the best in people.

"I understand not so completely. It's not because he's an American. It's because he acts like a politician and you know how I feel about politicians." It was sad, seeing how she actually had one for a brother. "Clover! Calm down!" She placed a hand on her forehead, muttering, "I don't know you, I don't know you..."

The waiter came up anyway. Psyche smiled apologetically.

"I promise," Clover swears, for once completely serious about something. "Nobody will hear anything. At all. You have my word. And, um, I'll let you speak now." She shoots straight up at the unexpected news, clamping her mouth shut to keep from shouting despite the distinct lack of other people. "If you're having second thoughts," she says, her voice an octave too high as she forces the noise level to a dull mumbling, "it's natural, and if you want to call the wedding off it's okay. Things like this happen all the time."

Clover is undeniably oblivious; sometimes she can't tell a room is tense when two wizards have broken out in a duel to the death. Sometimes, though, she can read people easily, and she gently touches Psyche's hand in an attempt at comfort. "Don't worry, Psyche. If I can do anything to make you feel better..."

Clover sighs, waving off the statement impatiently. "Americans, politicians, no difference. They're practically interchangable." She laughs at her denial, impatiently waiting for the waiter and beginning to rattle off food and drink before the poor man even takes out his notebook. "Okay, so I want a hot chocolate with whipped cream and five marshmallows, a piece of pizza, a small glass of vodka and a chocolate ice cream. How about you, Psyche?"

"Good." She looked at Clover strangely. She just kept talking and talking. And when Psyche had finally revealed her secret realization, Clover was just- well, she was being Clover. "Call off the wedding," she muttered. "Call off the wedding? Clove, do you really think I would do that? I made a commitment! I have to keep it. The question is what I can do to make Max not want to marry me. He'll be the one to call it off, not me."

Psyche let Clover comfort her for once. "I don't need anything. I just- I can't cancel the wedding. Not now. It's in less than two weeks. I can't do that to him or our families." She breathed deeply. "I need to calm down, that's all."

She shook her head and laughed. "Honestly, you Weasleys and food." Looking at the waiter, she said, "I'd like the biggest glass of Firewhisky I can get. I'm going to need it."

"Well, um, yes," Clover replies awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck. "I mean, if you stop loving someone, you generally call off a wedding, right? It's not exactly a commitment yet...it's more like the step bellow it...right?" She's obviously uncertain about what to say, as she's rarely confident in herself when Slytherins are around. Something about them just makes her feel self conscious. "Um, you could set him up with cheat, and then you could, uh, cheat him, I guess..." Being a Hufflepuff, she isn't that good at explaining plots, and she sits uncomfortably tense in her chair.

"Psyche, it's okay," she reassures, watching her bipolar cousin with a concerned look. "Do what you think is right...er...what you think will work out best. It's fine. Just...yeah...calm down."

"Blame Gramps," she says cheerfully, shooing the freaked out man off to get food. She pouts childishly across the table. "Aw, come on, Psyche, it's not that hard to be around me!"

"I never said I stopped loving him. I just said that I'm not sure if I want to get married anymore." Psyche didn't really understand her cousin's problem. Clover was always so nervous around her and Rigel. And about half the family. Sure, Psyche was a Slytherin. It didn't mean she did anything bad to her family. Well, not that bad at least. "For once, you had a good idea. Scheme. Whatever. It's a good idea."

She sighed. "I'm fine. Really, I am. I'm calm. I'm...a mess," she groaned as she placed her head in her arms. "My life is a mess. Hell, the whole world is a mess and I just need to rule it. Or something. Make it better.

"Believe me, I will." She lifted her head up to stare at Clover. "Says you."