Family, Duty

[Astrid Parkinson]

July 14th

Her department—every inch of it—had been hard at work at the World Wizarding Market, and Astrid Parkinson was no exception. Even with the knowledge that her youngest child remained amongst the missing, or perhaps because of it, the witch with her protégée were hard at work clearing the rubble. Most of the grounds had been cleared up in the days since the accident, and the department head was confident that today would see the last of the damage seen to—and hopefully, the last of the missing returned home safely.

But Zelda stopped in her clearing, wand dropping back to her side. Remaining focused for a moment longer, Astrid levitated her chunk of rubble into the vanishing box before turning her attentions to the young witch, confused.

“Zelda, what seems to be the matter?” she asked in a businesslike fashion, but warmly (for Astrid, at least).

@'Zelda Fisk'/@'Cassius Lestrange'

  

[Zelda Fisk]

Once her head injury was cleared enough that she was cleared to use a wand, Zelda had been brought in to work on clearing the rubble. After the previous two days of this, she had gone from 'never seeing a body at work' to being largely indifferent to most of the corpses. She had yelled at aurors who really didn't know what they were doing at a scene like this, transported living victims to St. Mungo's, and nearly stepped on someone's missing hand.

The rubble was almost completely cleared, and Zelda was alongside Mrs. Parkinson. She lifted a chunk of rubble - a beam from the ceiling, and found herself confronted with a body. It still took her a moment to recognize it.

She knew him, although not as well as the rest of the family. He was younger, but still had similar facial features to his eldest brother - and to his mother. Zelda's wand arm dropped to her side and she reached two fingers out to search for a pulse, although the boy was clearly dead. His skin was so pale it was nearly blue, his features too peaceful - and he was starting to get that distinct smell. 

There was no pulse. Not wanting to alarm Mrs. Parkinson yet, Zelda held her palm under the boy's nose, but it was not warmed by his breath. Stark disappointment settled in Zelda's lungs.

Mordred Parkinson was dead.

And Zelda had to tell his mother, who she adored and respected fervently, who did not deserve this.

Zelda stood up over the body and looked at Astrid. "Astrid," she said with trepidation, the situation and their closeness leading her to drop formalities, "I found him." 

  

[Astrid Parkinson]

Him—Mordred! Elation filled Astrid but she deflated almost as soon as. Zelda’s tone was not fitting of a joyous discovery; there was no glee in the younger woman’s tone. Astrid steeled herself for the worst.

“And?” she asked, almost breathlessly.

  

[Zelda Fisk]

Saying it made it real. Like magic, words would speak their reality into being, and then they would just be here, looking at Astrid's dead son.

She remembered the death of her mother and screaming into Konstantin's shirt. 

"He doesn't have a pulse," Zelda said. "I'm sorry."

  

[Astrid Parkinson]

That she knew before it had been said softened the blow. Astrid had never been an overly demonstrative woman, but she still felt her breath straggling, her pulse racing, and a lightness to her head as she became keenly aware of the fact that there was nowhere in this hell to actually sit down. Still, she stood firm, giving a solemn nod of acknowledgement to the young witch before becoming overwhelmed and swooning into the darkness.

  

[Zelda Fisk]

Well, shit.

She could go get someone else to revive Mrs. Parkinson, or she could try to do it herself. She had never revived someone from a faint before, but she also seriously doubted that Astrid would want a stranger to see her in a faint - so Zelda it was.

Zelda left the dead Mr. Parkinson to scurry over to his mother. She knelt down next to her mentor and whispered, "Rennervate" with a wave of her wand.

  

[Astrid Parkinson]

Astrid remained unconscious.

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   Annabelle Bones

[Zelda Fisk]

Did she have any salts? Zelda avoided fainting by half-assing her corsetting, but tended to accumulate any number of things in her pockets. She fished through them and finally found a small bundle of smelling salts. Frowning, Zelda held them underneath Astrid's nose. How did she do this again?

  

[Astrid Parkinson]

Reluctantly, consciousness flooded the witch once more, anguish stabbing her heart as she remembered all too quickly what had transpired here.

“Miss Fisk, I-I think we ought…” she trailed off as she sat up, uncertain just what they ought to do.

  

[Zelda Fisk]

Zelda, still crouched on the floor next to Mrs. Parkinson, flicked her eyes over to Mordred Parkinson. She had told countless people of their dead loved ones in the past few days, but this was completely different.

For one thing, she knew Mordred. He was a little serious and very young, but he had his mother's eyes.

"I can finish getting him out," she said, thinking as she talked, "And then we can get a stretcher and take him home. Would that be alright?"

  

[Astrid Parkinson]

“Y-yes,” she answered softly, feeling as adrift as a forgotten ship cut loose from the shores.

  

[Zelda Fisk]

"I'm sorry," Zelda said, although that had never been any comfort at all when her mother died.

She stood up and turned to face Mordred Parkinson. Zelda crouched down over him and with a careful sweep of her fingers, closed his eyes. She was sorry for him too, and with a flick of her wand and a muttered spell began the slow careful work of unburying him.