8pm on August 20, 2011

The Sellaphix Family's Home
34 Upper Montagu St
Marylebone, London

The Sellaphix's home is a narrow rowhouse on a mostly muggle street - they do have a few Wizarding neighbors living discreetly nearby.  The house is modest, well kept if not a bit untidy.  With only one parent living there some of the housework has gone neglected.  On the lower level are a kitchen, small dining room, more 'formal' living room, and a family room with cozy chairs and a Wizarding Wireless set up.  Upstairs has two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small office. They do have an attic and cellar but neither are very hospitable.

The WWN played on although no one was really listening. In the kitchen, 14-year-old Frank Sellaphix worked on a late dinner. Figaro, his older brother, an assistant at the Daily Prophet, had to leave for an overnight shift. Zelda Sellaphix was on the small brick patio in the back garden.

She'd just lost her temper with Frank, shouted at him about some egg shells left in the sink. He'd yelled back about her. She'd retreated to the garden to shakily smoke a cigarette. She was still shaken from what she'd done to Briggs the night before - she'd nearly killed him, out of nowhere, like a witch possessed - what was to stop her snapping and... she couldn't finish the thought.

Since that night with Kurby Bagnold, things had gotten steadily worse. The headaches had come more frequently, her left hand was all but useless, and she was losing time. Kurby was right. Elixa was right. Frank and Figaro were both right. She should have been in St. Mungo's days ago. But she was almost as afraid of facing what was happening, as what was happening itself.

And so she'd sent off an owl to Kurby Bagnold. Because he'd asked.

Traveling to Muggle neighborhoods, even on a night like this when the moon was well into its waning, always made him feel uneasy.  Kurby apparated into the back garden with a loud crack. 

He'd been lounging at home when he'd gotten the owl, its letter sealed with the wax scarab beetle stamp of Sellaphix Apothecary.  It hadn't taken long to read it.  In fact, it had taken much longer to dig up several days' worth of Daily Prophet back copies so that he could figure out what exactly it was that he had missed in the aftermath of the full moon; what it was that had spooked her enough to send him an owl.

After that, he hadn't wasted any time in appareling over.

The rain from earlier that day had given way to a damp evening, but it was still warm enough that he hadn't bothered to grab a cloak.  The lights were still on inside the kitchen of the narrow little home.  Zelda Sellaphix was standing outside, backlit by the glowing windows. 

Kurby silently stepped up onto the brick patio, hands tucked into his pockets. 

It seemed blithe to ask after what had happened, to inquire about the break-in at the store.  If things were well in hand, she wouldn't have owned him.  The last time that he'd seen her, she'd been shaken by the strange pain that had struck her, but still insistent that things were okay.  How that physical ailment connected to a break-in at the shop, though, he hadn't the first goddamned clue.

He settled for raising his eyebrows at her, watching her carefully in the darkness.  "You all right?"

Frank heard the Apparition crack and rushed from the kitchen to the back door, his wand drawn.  The wizard standing next to his mom in the growing dark was Kurby Bagnold, a family friend.

Frank looked older than he was tonight, his face a bit grim. He lowered his wand and let out a sigh of relief.  It was the family business to keep family business close. There was much he'd want to say to Kurby about what had been happening. Fill in details about how she hadn't been herself, how sometimes she didn't come home from the shop at all. That she was having headaches and that something was wrong with her hand. She was hoarding reagents all over the house.

How she'd thrown a glass at him a few minutes ago over eggshells.

"She's not fine," he said. He lingered for a moment, then went inside.

Frank came out, then went back in. She didn't look up, just kept her face an icy emotionless mask. She felt if she moved or had a thought, she'd fall apart. She hadn't wavered when Rafe was taken. She wasn't going to waver now.

Alone with Kurby, she gestured silently with the cigarette before starting to say something. But the facade cracked, and her lined face twisted into unusual agony.  She started to cry and it felt like her voice would come either in a whisper or a scream.

"It's bad," she managed to whisper.

"I think... I think it was me. I think I wrecked the shop." She swallowed hard.  "I don't know if I've been poisoned or I'm losing my mind, I ... I think I could hurt someone."

Briggs. Frank. Herself?

"I don't know what's happening." 

He'd never been one to shy away from confrontations, but somehow, staring down a rampaging werewolf felt a lot less complicated than dealing with this.  Even the worst sort of full moon produced a relatively simple decision-making tree.  Helping Zelda Sellaphix had no clear path to follow to a solution; no easy method for deciding what he should do.

The younger of Zelda's boys had poked his head out.  Kurby followed him with his eyes as he spoke up and disappeared again, and then looked back to Zelda. 

She wasn't all right.  He didn't know what this meant -- this talk of wrecking her shop, of losing her mind -- but Kurby listened silently, alarmed.  For as long as he'd known Zelda Sellaphix, she'd always been in control.  Even when Rafe had been arrested because of their idiot dogsbody, she'd barely seemed to let it outwardly phase her.  Seeing Zelda so vulnerable and frightened somehow felt more wrong than anything else could.

He didn't know what was happening, either.  But he did know that taking some sort of action sure as hell sounded like a better option than continuing down the current path, which was not doing anything.

He started toward Zelda.  "Let's go find out," he said firmly.  "You want me to apparate there?"

Zelda twitched backward, almost imperceptibly.

"Where? Apparate where?"

She tucked her left arm tighter under her other arm.  He meant St. Mungo's. He'd suggested it last week and she'd refused.  What was she supposed to even say to them? What if they informed the Aurors that she'd vandalized her own shop? Was she supposed to tell them about her apparent attempted murder of Nathan Briggs, a wizard she had more than enough motive to kill? And what about Frank. It was more than a week before he was back at school.

"They can't help me. What could they possibly do? I could get into trouble. Frank can't be on his own."

She took another desperate drag from the cigarette, shaking her head.  It was easy to imagine what would happen if she went with him to St. Mungo's, but much harder to know what would happen if she refused. Would he try to force her? Would he report her?

Zelda snapped her gaze at him suddenly, her eyes just for a moment blazing with suspicion. He works for the Ministry. She'd just admitted to filing a false report, to being a possible threat to others.  The dark look faded almost as quickly as it had come, and she turned back to staring at the bricks.

"You just can't understand.  I'm sorry, I don't know why I owled you. This was a mistake."

Frank hadn't returned to the kitchen; he was listening with his ear pressed against the crack of the back door. He and Figaro had already been over this with her. She needed help! If she had to stay in hospital, he'd just stay with Fig. What was she afraid of. He hoped Kurby could convince her. Maybe it would make more sense to her coming from someone other than family.

He was trying not to think of their fight in the kitchen and didn't dare admit that he was afraid of her.  It was horrible to think that she would - no. He wouldn't think it.

Frank took a deep breath and became resolved. He wasn't going to lose his mum as well as his dad. He left the door to send an owl to Figaro at the Daily Prophet. It wasn't far to fly, and Figaro would be able to Apparate back.

Fig , you have to come home right away. Kurby's here and mum won't go to Mungo's. - Frank

The werewolf hunter raised his eyebrows, appraising her silently.

He knew what would happen if he tried to force Zelda Sellaphix to seek help, whether at St. Mungo's or anywhere else.  She wasn't the sort who forgave or forgot.  Making a decision like that for her, bullying her into coming with him, likely meant an end to one of the few friendly interactions that he'd maintained well into adulthood.  He hadn't apparated here tonight to force her to do anything.

But somehow, this didn't seem like a minor problem that could be so easily dismissed.  She'd owled him for help.  That in itself meant that something was wrong.  Zelda had admitted that the situation was bad only moments before.  If he let her call an end and abandon the conversation where it was, how much worse was the situation going to get? 

"Your kid said you're not fine," he pointed out.  He stepped to the side, shifting away from the porch, so that the light from the house was firmly behind her and he was half-hidden in the darkness.  "You said you're worried that you might hurt someone.  You want to wait longer to see if you do?"

She dropped the cigarette and sank down into a rusty patio chair. She wrung her hands hard. He was right. The incidents had only escalated and day by day she felt like she was losing more and more of herself.

"I threw a glass at Frank," she said. "I don't know why. I've never done that before. Never anything like that. Ever."

She was silent for awhile, only wringing her hangs, silent tears trespassing on her cheeks. Her mind raced trying to go over and over the details to make some kind of explanation. She wrung and wrung her hand, trying to wake into it some sensation. What if, what if, what if, what if. She dreaded the hospital bed, the bright lights, the strange clothes, and all the questions. Having to say it all out loud.

"We can go. I should get a few things. And someone will need to stay with Frank."

She got up and looked for him in the dark. Her own shadow stretched across the grass, touching his figure like an eclipse's umbra.

"Come in."

Zelda turned and went inside, leaving the back door open behind her.

He waited for a moment, watching as she started inside.  Once her back was towards him, he reached for his wand, transferring it to his front pocket, where at least it would be in easy reach.  Silently, he followed her up and into the house.

Kurby had only been inside the Sellaphix family's home a few times, and only once or twice since Rafe had been arrested.  He entered into the small kitchen, which had the look of an evening interrupted, dinner still in the midst of being prepared.  From the next room, the tinny sounds of the WWN drifted in, playing the merry jingle of some advertisement. 

"I can owl Rosheen," he offered after Zelda.  It was a Saturday night, but his younger sister was just as likely to be settled at her flat.  Given the circumstances, she would probably be willing to entertain a teenager for the evening.  He'd owe her for it, if it meant one less excuse in the way of Zelda agreeing to visit St. Mungo's.  "You want me to see if she can drop in?"

Frank had made no attempt to conceal that he'd been eavesdropping when his mother came inside and passed him silently in the hall, Kurby following not far behind. He fell instep with the werewolf hunter.

"I don't need a babysitter, Kurby" he said, keeping his voice low. "I should come with you. I can help."

Zelda had gone upstairs, and Frank started to gather a few things - a coat from the hooks on the wall and his bookbag. He sat down to put on his shoes.

"Figaro's on his way." Frank nodded to Kurby reassuringly.

Frank was feeling hopeful for the first time in awhile. Everything had been going in circle before, but now with Kurby here, with his mom upstairs packing, maybe things were finally moving forward and this could all be fixed.

Kurby blinked as the kid fell into step behind him and spoke up.  Up close, Frank looked older than he had expected Rafe and Zelda's youngest son to be, in a way that made him feel much more ancient than he probably had a right to.  The last time that he remembered seeing Frank, the boy hadn't even been at Hogwarts yet. 

"If a babysitter is what it takes to get her to go, then you get a babysitter," he told the kid, keeping his voice equally low.

Frank was already bustling about, grabbing things, pulling on his shoes.  The werewolf hunter sighed, eyeing him for a moment, and then glancing up the stairs after Zelda to make sure she wasn't yet back within earshot.  The last thing he needed to deal with on top of this mess was having to entertain a kid for hours at St. Mungo's, but he also knew the Sellaphix boys had been through more than most.  If he had a legitimate reason for wanting to tag along...

"How exactly do you think you can help, then?" he asked, regarding Frank warily.  "It's goin' to be sittin' around and waitin' more than anything else.  I can tell the Healers whatever they need to know."

Frank sighed and scratched the back of his neck. He hated being the youngest sometimes, but nothing was more counterproductive to establishing an air of maturity than having to remind everyone that he was fourteen and not a kid anymore.

Frank only remembered meeting Kurby a few times before today. He was friendly, but not like some crazy uncle who brought sweets or anything. Seemed rather stoic, to Frank. He knew he was a friend of his parents, and so knew not to ask too many questions of him.

But Kurby was right. Clearly, Kurby knew Zelda well.  There'd be no convincing his mum about Frank staying, and there was no use having another fight.

"No, you're right. I'll stay. But, I want to know what's going on. And someone needs to stay with her."

He didn't doubt that Kurby would handle it, but it felt wrong not to make sure he knew.

"And she doesn't like orange juice."

The crack of what must have been Figaro Apparating in the garden stopped what might had become a litany of instructions.

Crack!

Figaro Sellaphix Apparated into his back garden and trotted across the grass into the back door. He should never have gone into work. They'd been surprised to see him, what with what had happened, so no one cared a lick when he was rushing out the door not more than an hour later.

He found Kurby and Frank together just outside the kitchen.

"Kurby, hey."

Figaro was nearly as tall as Kurby Bagnold now. It had been awhile since they'd seen each other and Figaro was glad he was here.

"Maybe you can talk to her," he said. "Never listens to me."

"Kurby already did," Frank informed Figaro. "She's upstairs."

Figaro looked between Frank and Kurby. If Zelda Sellaphix was agreeing to go to St. Mungo's - "wait, what happened? She alright?"

He couldn't help but smirk a little at Frank's last comment.  No orange juice.  He'd been about to give the kid a nod when there was another crack of apparition from the backyard. 

Kurby glanced back towards the door, his hand dropping casually to his wand.  He only relaxed when he saw Zelda Sellaphix's older son come trotting in.

They were good kids.  They probably couldn't help but become so with Zelda and Rafe for parents.  It made him feel a little out of place, seeing them so old.  Figaro had graduated from Hogwarts now, he remembered hearing from Zelda.  He towered over his younger brother, and was well on his way to matching Kurby in height.  How the hell had they grown up so fast?

"I think it's sorted," he told Figaro, eyebrows raising, as he glanced up toward the ceiling, as if doing so would let him see all the way through to the upper floor. This was starting to take a little long for his liking, although not quite enough so to warrant barging upstairs.   "I told her I'd go with her to St. Mungo's.  You two going to be all right here?" he asked, looking between the two boys.  "Figure they might keep her overnight."