Closed RP: Susan is Not Happy (and when Susan ain't happy, NOBODY is happy)

[usethepoker]

((Backdated to February 10, just after Stephen's popcorn-letter))

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[charlesmacaulay]

... Right. Well, what could Charles expect? This was Henry Winter. He'd kill anyone. He'd tried to kill Charles. He'd probably try to kill Charles again, if he got his hands on a scythe like that, once he'd finished with Susan. Camilla would be out of danger and Henry would be Charles's rival again, their brief unlikely alliance dissolving, and Henry would want Charles dead.

Actually, Henry probably still wanted Charles dead. Charles couldn't say he didn't want Henry dead right this very moment, either. The only reason it suited him for Henry to be alive at the moment was because no one else could keep Camilla out of Susan's way.

Gritting his teeth, he wrote back:

Henry,

I can't say I much like that idea. Anyway you and Milly are going to be far away from here.

Charles

He thought about the sword under Susan's bed. He thought he might have to go and get it himself. He sure as hell wasn't going to tell Henry about it.

He didn't think about the fact he'd actually called his sister by her pet name in a letter to her husband.

[h_m_winter]

Henry, had he known about the sword, would have had some serious doubts about Charles's ability to actually use it--not in a technical sense, but in his willingness (or lack of it) to actually kill someone. Not just someone, even, but Susan, human or not at the moment--Charles hadn't really wanted to kill Bunny, despite the blatant need for it. Left to his own devices, he never could have shoved Bunny off that cliff, and Henry was certain he wouldn't be able to use Susan's own theoretical spare weapon against her. He'd get cut down like so much ripe wheat.

Later, Henry would be very, very annoyed by that accidental slip, by Charles using his pet name for Camilla, but right now he was too busy trying to get everything the hell out of there to really even give it any cursory thought.

Charles,

Just a thought. We'll be heading out in a moment.

-Henry

[charlesmacaulay]

It really was a truly accidental slip. Charles didn't let himself use that name much in front of other people at all, unless he was too drunk to notice what he was saying. He was so agitated now, and so beside himself, that he simply had written what was in his mind, and that was how he was thinking of her. He was thinking of her by that name.

All he wrote was:

Good luck.

Unsigned, no salutation, a quick scribble. He wondered how on earth Henry was getting her to go anywhere at all without stalling or asking questions. He wondered where they'd end up, and when he'd see them again.

He'd go get the sword as soon as he'd talked to Ryder.

[h_m_winter]

Henry folded all the letters up, shoving them into his briefcase. They didn't really have time to pack much of anything, unfortunately--not with how quickly they had to move.

"Camilla," he said, pulling out a suitcase. "We have to leave, and please don't ask questions. Just get whatever you can carry into this." He pulled some spare clothes--socks, underwear, fresh shirts--out of his half of the dresser, laying it neatly in the suitcase despite his hurry. Henry was a tidy man, and even the threat of a vengeful incarnation of Death wasn't enough to break that instinct.

[c_macaulay]

Camilla wanted very much to ask questions. She understood that when Henry spoke this way, moved this quickly, there really wasn't time. He didn't waste effort on anything. He'd explain when he could, she was sure.

If they only had time for one suitcase ... well. The situation must be very, very bad.

It was in situations like this that Camilla proved most reliable; and it was only from Henry that she could take orders this way. Had her brother tried to tell her we have to leave, and please don't ask questions, she would have demanded an explanation.

"All right." She did what Henry was doing. "If you tell me where we're going, I might be able to Apparate us there," she suggested. It was merely that, a suggestion. If he'd told her it was vital they scuba-dive to the bottom of the lake, she would have gone along with that.

[h_m_winter]

He paused just a moment, and then, incredibly, he went and took out a map. "Fort William," he said. He'd wanted to drag her somewhere as remote as Ben Nevis, and that was the nearest town. Even if Susan somehow did find a way to evade Odin, Ryder, and Charles, it would probably be a long while before she found her way to such a remote area of Scotland.

He knew how crazy it sounded, but it had to be that way. They had to go there, and they had to go now, and then, just maybe, he'd explain. Once they were safely stuck away from Hogwarts, if such a thing were possible.

[c_macaulay]

Camilla studied the map for a moment. "That's not too far away. I've managed Side-Along Apparition over a farther distance than that, when I took Susan to London for shopping. We can't Apparate on Hogwarts grounds, though. We'll have to get off-campus first."

Then she had to bite her lip to keep from asking a question.

"It would be easier if I had a picture," she said instead. "But I think if I concentrate on the map that should be good enough."

She didn't ask about the luggage either. If three pairs of socks, three pairs of underwear, some pajama bottoms, and an old tennis sweater weren't going to suffice for Camilla's wardrobe, then Henry had best speak up.

[h_m_winter]

Off-campus. Which meant going out onto the grounds. Where Susan was. Somewhere.

...Dammit.

There was no helping it, though. It was to be hoped that Henry was wrong, and that Susan's weapons wouldn't work on the grounds, but it wasn't something he was willing to stake his life--or, more importantly, Camilla's life--on. He wanted some way to sneak, to hide, as wholly unlike him as that was, and there was almost certainly no way to hide from such a creature.

"All right," he said. "Pack everything warm you can fit in here, and bring your wand. I don't know how long we'll need to be away."

[c_macaulay]

Warm clothing, check. Camilla found what she could, as quickly as she could, and then things for Henry too. She took over the domestic end of things. She tried to find room for his bathrobe and failed. She did, however, find room for many packs of cigarettes, stuffed here and there in the cracks between folded garments.

"What about Mister Whiskers?" The question had to be asked.

[h_m_winter]

...Of course. The hamster.

"I don't think we have time," he said. "If everything works out, we might not have to be away long." Or so he devoutly hoped. "I'll explain everything later." Much, much later, preferably when everything had...done whatever it was going to do.

Henry was still packing while he spoke--more sensible things like sweaters, gloves, money. They probably wouldn't have time to change most of the wizarding money, but they had the checkbook, at least.

[c_macaulay]

Satisfied with the cold-weather clothing she'd packed, not to mention the cigarettes, Camilla retrieved a pair of snow boots from the closet. This time of year there wasn't snow at Hogwarts, but maybe there would be in the mountains, if that was where Henry planned on going from Fort William. She tugged the boots on over leggings. She looked as though she planned on going skiing.

She noticed then that he had the checkbook. "That's not the only checkbook," she said. "That's just the joint account." And promptly dug out another checkbook from inside a desk drawer. "This one is Nana's money," she said. "What I came here with." It was all non-wizarding money, proper and easy to access. She tucked it into her handbag. Then, as an afterthought, she chucked a bar of soap into the handbag after the checkbook.

"All right," she said. She was breathing a little quickly; she was a little flushed with the nervousness and the hurry of it all. "I'm ready." And she wouldn't ask any more questions, not now. Asking about Mister Whiskers had been risky enough, and she thought it practically pained Henry to have to answer that one.

[h_m_winter]

Henry really was intensely grateful she wasn't really questioning him--he was tense enough, since he had no idea where in hell Susan could be, or what would happen if they were to run into her out on the grounds.

"Good," he said, and then, as if somehow underlining the unspoken fact that this was, in fact, really bad, he kissed her as he pulled his coat on. "All right, let's get off the grounds, and don't stop for anything."

He picked up the suitcase, scanning the hallway before leading Camilla out. There probably wasn't any way to escape Susan if she came looking for them, but he doubted she would. She would very likely have bigger fish to fry.

[c_macaulay]

That definitely drove home how serious the situation must be. Camilla slung her handbag across her chest like a bandolier and, wand at the ready, followed Henry, her hand in his, her fingers interwoven with his fingers and knotting tightly.

She didn't once give a thought to her brother. Mister Whiskers, yes, but not once to Charles. She was thinking about how they were going to get off the grounds, and what on earth it was that they were trying to evade, anyway. They weren't moving stealthily. That would have been too slow. They were walking briskly. It's like we're afraid of missing our train, Camilla thought incongruously, and bit her lip to keep quiet.

In her mind she held the image of the map. Fort William. That's where we're going. As soon as they were off the grounds, that was where she would take them. They wouldn't splinch. She was positive of that much. She knew what she was doing.

[h_m_winter]

Henry, for once, was giving though to Charles--wondering how he was faring in his bid to...somehow control Susan. It was an undertaking that took more than a little courage, as even Henry had to admit, and though his own life would be made much easier if Susan were to kill Charles, he couldn't help but have a little respect. Which in itself was almost enough to herald the end of the world.

It was freezing out, but the moon kept everything from true darkness. He hurried them as fast as he dared, always watchful for a black silhouette with a scythe. A lesser man than Henry would have had their nerves frayed by the exercise, but this was Henry, who, as the old saying went, had no nerves to speak of. He didn't stop until they'd made it into Hogsmeade, and then he turned to Camilla. "Fort William," he said, though whether to remind her or himself, even he wasn't sure.

[c_macaulay]

The walk to Hogsmeade was for Camilla an exercise in absolute faith. She had to trust Henry knew what he was doing. She had to trust Henry knew what he was looking out for, because she didn't know what they were fleeing, if they were fleeing; she couldn't be vigilant against a specific threat. They could not stop to investigate every crackle of branches, and she could not know what merited panic.

She did not think to search the sky; she did not catch the brief and bizarre display of Wednesday's flight silhouetted against the moon. All the while she walked, she was concentrating on that map Henry had shown her, trying to orient herself spatially in relation to the point they'd want to reach via Apparition. Concentrating this way, distracted, she let Henry lead her along. She didn't want to let go of his hand. What he'd done before they left had unsettled her thoroughly. You didn't kiss someone goodbye if you were going with them, unless you thought the both of you might not get there in one piece.

He stopped her and she realized they'd gotten to Hogsmeade, the familiar main road of the village rising with its quaint little buildings to either side, everything unfamiliar and ghostlike now to her. He reiterated their destination the way she imagined a commander might give his pilot the necessary coordinates.

"I'm not going to splinch us," she assured him firmly. It wasn't an easy spell, and she wouldn't have wanted Henry to do it on his own, but she knew she could handle it. He had to be able to trust her, too. "You'd better let me hold the suitcase, though."

God forbid the suitcase get left behind. She'd lose all his cigarettes that way.

She took the suitcase from him, and wrapped her other arm about his waist, and focused. Destination. Determination. Deliberation. She'd had a very good tutor, someone she'd hired off-campus. She'd approached it the way she might have approached flying lessons, except this was better because it didn't rely on a machine. Machines were fallible. Machines could crash. This relied only on Camilla's will; and Camilla was nothing if not willful.

Focus. Then nothingness, briefer than brief. In her mind, the map, and the utter conviction what mattered most in the world was getting to that place.

In a blink they were there, on the outskirts of a town of not inconsiderable size. Mountains loomed above.

"Well," Camilla said, looking about with satisfaction, setting down the suitcase for Henry to take when he was ready. "I hope there's a decent hotel here."

It was then that it really hit her how completely unplanned all this must have been. Henry would never have set out on a trip without first making reservations!

[h_m_winter]

No, Henry wouldn't have done such a spontaneous thing without a very desperate reason. Part of him was relieved to be here, so far away from Hogwarts, but another part wouldn't relax until something had taken Susan-as-she-was out of the equation, one way or another. Camilla was safe, though, or as safe as he could make her, and that was what mattered.

"I'm certain there is," he said, taking the suitcase. "I don't know how long we'll have to stay, but I'm sure we can find somewhere decent." He'd owl Charles as soon as he could, to see if he could get some kind of update, some idea of what the hell was going on back there. He still didn't dare tell Camilla just what was going on, for fear she'd try to Apparate right back to the school and thus get herself utterly killed.