What are friends for?

[safinnigan]

Date: Saturday, 30 September, 2000
Time: 10:30 a.m.
Location: Trésor Littéraire
Characters Involved: Seamus Finnigan, Charlotte Aurelius, open to others who wish to help clean up
Rating: G, or maybe PG-13 for French invectives

Comments

[elegante_fleur]

Fleur's arm instinctively wrapped around her friend as she whispered in French, reassuring her that this too, would indeed pass.

"Monsieur Seamus." She said with a soft smile that betrayed how thoroughly her heart was breaking, "Zere is plenty of food zere, eef you would but 'elp yourself. Zough I must admeet my skills in ze kitchen are quite poor indeed, but alas it will cure ze 'unger. Charlotte and I will just be a moment."

With her arms still around Charlie's shoulders she attempted to move her into a nearby chair.

"Mon ami." She said quietly as she handed her a soft pink handkerchief. "Eet iz not so bad. We can fix zis." She cooed softly in her lilting French accent, "You were not 'urt, and all zis can be replaced, feexed." She shrugged, "I know eet iz disaster, and you can't see past the mess right now..." She paused and motioned towards the flowers, "But look at ze flowers, just as zey are beautiful, so too will zis place be when we put eet back togezzer." She shrugged, "I'll even 'elp you tweak it again." Her wink was teasing, "I suppose even if I 'ave to play ze pack mule again." She said with a huff. Perhaps her words were silly and useless, but they were said in love for a friend and a desperate need to cheer her up.

[beautesolitaire]

Fleur was such a rock, Charlotte had no idea how she held up with all the stress of this place. She dappped at her tears with the hankerchief, taking a deep breath, shakey as it was. The chair seemingly exploded when she sat down in it, the stuffing coming out of the jagged rips in the upholstery.

She looked around her store for a moment and then to the flowers, sniffling pathetically. She hated crying in front of people, least of all people she most cherished. Tears slipped down her cheeks, "Zose animals ruined it." she hiccuped, "Je ne sais pas ce que pour faire, Fleur." she mumbled, it was like someone had ruined all her hopes and dreams for this new home, "I wish zat I 'ad never left 'ome." she hiccuped, not meaning to upset Fleur with her statement, but all of this was just too much for her at the moment.

She was physically and emotionally exhausted. There was so much to do and it seemed so overwhelming. It was all replaceable, she knew, but the cost of replacing it. She was afraid that her business would go in the hole. She couldn't get anymore money from the lawyers. It was mostly gone except for the small part that was set aside for her estranged brother, should he ever resurface.

"I do not understand what made zem do zis, I 'ave never done anyt'ing to anyone."

[safinnigan]

Seamus set to work immediately getting all of the bookshelves back standing upright. Then he worked his way systematically down the aisle putting as many books back into the bookshelves in as organised a manner as he could. He was much better and faster at this than he might have been before he’d started doing so much research in the Hogwarts Library. He was used to reshelving books and doing it systematically and properly so that Madame Pince would not object to his efforts. Those skills came in handy now, as he worked his way down the aisle putting back scores of books at a time, making sure their spines were facing out towards the customers and that the books were not damaged. The damaged books he placed at the end of each bookcase, creating too large a pile to be good for her business. He could move those wherever Charlotte wanted them stored later.

He had tried to give the French lasses some space, but also did not want to ignore them, so he took a break from his work and went up to the front of the store again, getting his wand at the ready as he walked. Once he was at the front of the store he tapped on the shards in the front window, invoking the reparo spell silently and watching in satisfaction as the shoppe window became whole again.

Then he returned to where Fleur and Charlotte were speaking, bringing another damaged chair for Fleur to sit on. “Canst I be after getting you lasses anything? Me own Mum taught this Seamus to make proper tea, if you’ve a mind for it. Or perhaps something stronger?” He stood next to Charlotte’s chair, patting her on the shoulder and finding a handkerchief in his pocket to dry up her tears. He handed her the small square of fabric, turning helpless eyes on Fleur. He really did not know what he could do to make Charlotte feel better after such an event, but if Fleur had a suggestion, he was willing to try.

[elegante_fleur]

Such awful things had happened to her in her short life and Fleur knew a damaged book here or there was the least of her worries. Her love had been so damaged, that was all she could think about when she looked around at Charlottes damaged establishment. Ruined books almost symbols of her husbands face.

"Shh..." Fleur gently rubbed her hand across Charlotte's shoulders. Too many times Fleur herself had wanted to go home, terribly homesick for the land of her birth and she could sympathize.

But she was at a loss for ways to make her feel better, it seemed Seamus felt quite the same. "Monsieur, you sit wiz 'er, while I make us some tea." Fleur collected herself and sent a weak smile in Seamus' direction. This was certainly a tragedy for her friend and he seemed to relax her.

“Excusez-moi.”

[safinnigan]

Seamus exchanged wan smiles with Fleur as she left to make some tea. He pulled his ruined chair up next to Charlotte’s and put his arm around her, just quietly and simply as a gesture of friendship and care. She was alone in this country as far as he knew, alone and without many friends except for Fleur who she had clearly known for a long time.

He didn’t speak to her, not right away. There was a time when someone felt so alone and sad, so hurt or upset that all you could do if you wanted to help was just be there. That was all he had to offer this lovely French lass. His help and just the thought that he and Fleur were here and she wasn’t alone.

He had heard the last thing she’d said, what she’d said to Fleur as he approached to see if he could lend a hand.

"I do not understand what made zem do zis, I 'ave never done anyt'ing to anyone."

“Aye, lass. ‘Tis beyond understanding.”

How could anyone explain meanness and vandalism? There were those left from the war with anger and bitterness. If they had decided to turn it against Charlotte or Trésor Littéraire, then there would be no reasoning behind it, or at least none that he could explain to the lass. If they had decided that she was supporting a Death Eater, there would be no changing their minds with reasoning either.

[beautesolitaire]

She mumbled her apologies in french for a moment before she looked up at him with a sniffle, big tears in her eyes. The hair was pushed out of her face. She just wanted things to be safe again, to not feel like a basketcase of tears. She hated crying in front of him. It made her seem like a weak female.

"I am sorry, Monsieur Seamus. 'ere I am crying all over you." she hiccuped, sniffling and wiping her nose. She wanted to calm herself down tea would help. Fleur was getting the tea. She took a deep breath, shakey, but deep.

[safinnigan]

Seamus looked around for something to hand to Charlotte to dry up her tears. He didn’t have anything with him, but he still had his wand in his hand from repairing the window, so he tore off a piece of the shredded cushion cover from the chair he was seated on and transfigured it into a delicate white Irish linen handkerchief embroidered with spring flowers in one corner and tatted on the edge. It was an image he dredged up from his childhood, perhaps from visiting his grandmother in Belfast. He placed it in Charlotte’s hand and gave her shoulders a small hug under his arm. Then he smiled at her and laughed a small, rueful laugh.

“Laughter and tears, luv, can’t have one without t’other - and the Irish no stranger to either then, lass.” He paused a moment to allow her to collect herself a bit before he continued. “Be easy then, lass. You’ve a right to your tears. ‘Twas an unfounded attack.” He understood her upset and frustration, her loss, but she was safe and unharmed. He was well aware that it might have been otherwise.