Inside the McBoid Cottage
6:33 p.m.



The previous day Duncan had spent his time hiking with and later talking to Kurby Bagnold. Overall it had been a fun, mostly relaxing, outing. It had also been very illuminating regarding his niece’s current behavior.

Moira had always been reserved but for the past two weeks she had seemed more withdrawn than usual. She wasn’t even talking to her horse about anything that had happened. Nothing about the late night excursion with the Sellaphix lad, nothing about the fight with him, nothing about the werewolf, and nothing about the muggles who died that night.

Duncan knew his niece. While she wouldn’t say as much, he knew Moira had raked herself over the coals and carried any blame to be had. Even when she was a wee lass she had always been harder on herself than anyone else, partly because of what happened to her mother.

Sitting on one of the dining chairs, deep in thought, the Scotsman looked up when Moira arrived home from work. When she saw him and his somber mood her expression turned wary. “Moira,” he greeted.

”Duncan,” came her reply. He watched as she crossed to the dining table to sit across from him instead of going straight to her room to feed her niffler. ”You spoke to Bagnold.” It wasn’t phrased as a question.

“Aye.” Duncan waited a few moments, flicking his wand towards the kitchen and two cups of tea drifted over to land on the table in front of them. “Were you ever going to tell me or your dad?”

Moira was fiddling with her cup, staring down at the tea and not answering. No, she hadn’t planned on telling either of them. She had planned on shouldering everything by herself and not asking for help. He hoped she had confided at least a little bit to the friend she spent the night with a few days ago. Considering her present reaction, though, he couldn’t be sure.

“I’m not angry, Moira. I wish you both had used a little more sense but,” He shrugged and took a drink of his tea. He couldn’t say ‘everything turned out okay’ because it hadn't. The kids weren’t necessarily the ones to blame, even if they played a part. Who knew what Tawse would have done if the WCU showed up and subdued the werewolf before it reached the zoo.

The young witch was still staring at her tea, waiting for his reprimand no doubt. Now that he knew what had happened there was an obligation to his brother. “I have to tell Angus you know.” Moira glanced up then back down again. ”Aye.” She didn’t offer any explanations or any excuses.

“Any thoughts you want to add for when I do?” Silence stretched for a few moments. ”I screwed up. That’s all there is to it.”

‘I’, she had said. Not ‘we’. With a sigh, Duncan shook his head. “Aye, some bad decisions were made, but you were trying to look out for your friend. That is not bad.” Still no answer except for a slight frown.

“I’ll be glad to teach you more of what I know. Maybe it will help if anything ever happens again.” A small nod. There was no sense trying to get her to talk. Pushing any more would just cause her to withdraw further. “Alright, drink your tea and go on.”

Moira drank her tea in one go and got up from the table pausing just long enough to say an unspecified, ”Thank you.”

As she retreated to her room and Duncan stayed at the table, now waiting for his older brother. For that conversation, beers would probably be better than tea.