Party Poison

After the incident in La Petit Dragon in which Osmund had given his mother's boyfriend the slip, Fergus had done well to not let Osmund out of sight. He was a muggle after all and upon losing Osmund in that previous instant, was immediately filled with confusion as a stranger in a new place. Osmund had tried to make it seem like an accident, when he had finally found himself with the man again, and Fergus had believed him and forgiven him. However, now he was taking extra precautions so it wouldn't happen again.

But Osmund was a thirteen-year-old now and knew the streets of Amethyst alley well and what he didn't need was some daft muggle like Fergus to act as a babysitter for him. He didn't know why Helena didn't trust him enough to go on his own and wasn't enjoying a moment of this experience. He needed to get away from Fergus again and then finish up his shopping without the man. But the question was 'How?' His answer came as a herd of people approached, swallowing the odd pair in its mass and giving Osmund the perfect cover to bolt and hide within the nearest shop. He did so without looking at a name or anything and soon found himself tumbling inside a sweet smelling shop, taking down a display of chocolate frogs as he fell to the ground. He didn't care that he had just made a scene of himself or that he had created a mess. All that mattered was that he was away from Fergus. From the floor, lying face up, he cheered to himself.

Credit to MCR for the title

Finlay Donaghue was munching on licorice wands and chatting with the young witch running the register. She had to be at least five years older than him but he gave her a charming smile in the hopes his treats would be free. He had taken to trying to charm every woman he could. He liked to practice this skill at every possible moment, even though he was still at the stage where girls were the last thing on his mind, but that didn't stop him.
Although Finlay was startled by the boy suddenly crashing through the shop, he couldn't help the high-pitched giggle that escaped his lips at the sight of the dark-haired boy sprawled across the the floor. He stepped away from the counter and went to the boy. "You-" he giggled." Okay?" He reached out to help him up. After he lent his help he wiped his hands on his pants. "Finlay Donaghue." He held out his hand.

There were many important items Persephone required to get before she could disembark to school, but none of them could be nearly as important as replenishing her stock of candy for the year. Allowance had been saved up during the summer and the young girl had even taken it upon herself to work extra chores for her neighbors to earn some extra spending on candy. She accepted a shopping basket at the door and began to fill it with a variety of candies from hard candies to soft, chocolate to fruity.

By the time she was ready to cash out with her mighty hall, the basket was somewhat hefty and she struggled to carry it over to the counter, not even making it over there before someone had clambored in and knocked over a bunch of candies, making a mess of the place and surprising Persephone enough to let her own basket drop. Her candies scattered among the floor, mixed between boxes of chocolate frogs. She frowned at the mess as someone went over to help the boy who had fallen. "Looks like we've got a big mess on our hands."

His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling as he found nothing of better use to do with himself than to just lay there. He had already achieved what he had come there for and more, for the worse, and didn't feel the desire to deal with anything else. Around his head, he could hear the faint croaking of charmed chocolate frogs who had broken free of their boxes when they had fallen and were now hopping around.

Someone had came to his aid and, slightly in a daze, he accepted the hand that was offered. Perhaps he had hit his head when he had fallen since his head felt fuzzy as he looked around at the mess of whimsical candies sprawled on the floor. He didn't feel like moving and cleaning up the mess he had created and therefore instead turned his attention to the boy speaking to him. "Osmund," He started with his own introduction, his expression somewhat blank. "Osmund Hollow."

There was a third member of the party who had stood on the side lines with displeasure painted on her face. She seemed to have dropped her candy, which seemed to exceed the amount that was in the display that he had knocked over. He had made a mess of the shop and panning from the girl to the boy and then finally to the glaring stare of the shop hand who waited at the cashier with expectant eyes, Osmund scowled. "Fine. I'll deal with the mess."

At the boy's name Finlay's mouth fell open. Osmund Hollow, the half-brother he had never met. By Merlin's beard how was it possible he could just casually run into him in a candy shop? He'd waited his entire life to see this mysterious boy sired by the same father but he couldn't do more than stare open-mouthed at the boy. He was shorter than he imagined. "You're shorter than I imagined." He hadn't meant to say that aloud but there it was, for everyone to hear. He coughed loudly to try and cover it up to the point it seemed he was having a fit. His throat burned and he knew he was embarrassing himself but he couldn't stop. He turned away from the boy before he could do anymore damage.

The boy that had initated the whole mess did little to nothing to help clean up, so while formalities were taking place, Persephone dropped to pick through the candy on the floor and regather her purchases from before. This sure was a mess, but it was hard to be mad when chocolate frogs were hopping so freely about, occasionally landing on her hand, then jumping away again. She loved candy, especially when it acted so magically.

A sort of reaction occurred between the first boy, whom she now recognized to be Finlay, the boy she had met in the pub before, upon hearing the new boy's name. Osmund, he was called. He seemed like a strange bloke and perhaps Persephone didn't blame Finny for acting thus. He had, after all, barged into the shop with the utmost urgency and wasnt even here to buy anything. It seemed to Percy that he was running from something. Perhaps the cops? He looked like maybe he had killed a man.

She wanted to ask and get to know the strange boy, but suddenly Finlay was caught in a coughing fit and took priority. With a handful of candy in one hand, she rose from the floor and went over to pat Finny's back while he coughed. "Are you okay?" She asked, her eyes flickering over towards Osmund to see if he wore a look of similar concern. "Didja swallow a chocolate frog or something?"

The young boy introduced as Finlay was a bit peculiar in his reaction to his own name. Osmund had been aware of the fact that the last name of Hollow was somewhat legendary among purists but after a few years of attending a school where most people didn't seem to care what name you possessed as long as you were good at what you did, he had given up on that idea that he was anything special just by a name. He smiled to himself for a moment as he prided himself. He was a Hollow and for once he was special enough to be recognized by a name. This smile disappeared quickly with the next thing that had come from the boy's mouth.

Short? He wasnt short, was he? Who was this freshmeat of a boy calling him short? "Pardon?" Osmund replied, slightly annoyed. He thought the boy was admiring him, but now it seemed to him that he wasnt living up to Finlay's expectations. "What do you mean I am shorter than you expected?" Suddenly a coughing fit ensued by the boy, but Osmund didn't care. He wanted answers. "Did you know my father or something?" Archibald Hollow was a man of an intimidating height. Perhaps Finlay's family was a friend of his father. Maybe even business partners. However, no such answers were coming from the boy as only coughs could be heard. Frustrated, Osmund stepped back and folded his arms expectantly as the girl who had dropped her candy before and whom Osmund had nearly but forgotten her rushed in and tried to help Finlay out. He wanted answers.

Persephone's patting only made the situation more awkward, especially when Finlay tried to smile weakly at her in greeting. "I'm fine." He said even though he was still coughing a little. Finlay didn't know how to reply to the boy's- to Osmund's- questions. In fact, he'd prefer to not answer at all, or rather to just melt into a puddle of humiliation on the floor. He gently pushed Persephone aside and straightened up. "I just meant... yeah you could say I know your father." His confident facade had long fled the building and he felt a little lost without it.

It appeared that the boy hadn't been choking on one of the loose chocolate frogs after all and had just somehow been upsetted into coughing. Perhaps he had choked on his own spit, persephone understood that problem well since it seemed to her she always started to do so as soon as she was in the middle of a long story. Finlay had brushed her off, showing he was fine, but Percy was still concerned. She dropped what candy she had in her hand into her basket and then went to the shopkeeper to ask for a glass of water. Returning, she found the boys back to the same conversation before Finlay had started coughing.

"Here you go. Don't drink it too quickly! We wouldn't want to lose you," she teased as she handed over the cup to the boy. Her eyes turned warily over towards the long haired boy and suddenly she was laughing. "You are short!" She exclaimed, noticing that she trumped the boy by a few good inches. She recognized him as one of the older students in her school and that just made it all the funnier.

Finlay was startled but accepted the glass Persephone handed him. He took a support and then immediately spurted it out at Persephone's words. It made the situation a little less awkward for him and he started laughing, water running down his chin. He was way past the point of caring about his appearance as he usually did and wiped his mouth on his shirt. "Percy, that's," he laughed. "Rude." His laughter seemed near-hysterical at that point and he was bent almost double, clutching his sides from laughter. The situation was very stressful for him even if no one knew why and it was getting to him. "Shorty." He giggled.

So the boy did know his old man, which answered many questions in Osmund's head. Suddenly he was a bit more okay with the situation, though he still wanted to know more. He wondered if Finlay had seen his father recently, for Merlin knew it had been years since Osmund had seen him. He wondered if Archibald ever mentioned him. Was he proud of him? He never answered his letters so Osmund didn't know. "Have you...ummmmm...have you talked to him recently?" He started, but suddenly the girl was back again and this time with water. Osmund rolled his eyes. She was starting to become a figure that was always there at his inconvenience.

His face reddened as she suddenly addressed him, calling him short. He wasn't as embarrassed as he was irritated by such children poking fun at him like that. She didn't scare him at all! But as he approached her to show that, he only proved her point when he found himself looking up at her. "I'm not short!" He argued. "You're just tall!" But it was no use for the pair if kids were cackling away at his height.

"Okay," Finlay conceded. "You're not that short." He huffed out a breath. He didn't want to make the other boy too upset, considering the circumstances. But that was what brothers do right? Get on each other's nerves? "Did you say something before about ou-your father?" Finlay still wasn't sure what to do in this situation. Should he come out and say it or continue as if hr didn't know, or claim that he was just a family friend and flee? He was almost positive there were no guides or charts on what to do when meeting the half brother who doesn't even know you exist.

He wanted answers, not to have an argument over his height. As far as he was concerned, he was a decent height for his age and would be even taller, once he finished puberty. The girl was just tall, that was all. She was taller than any of the other girls he had seen her age.

Nonetheless, to say in the least, Finlay had backed down from the argument, which gave Osmund hope that the laughing girl would as well. He made a mental note to stay away from that one, for she seemed entirely out of her mind.

Another wave of relief spread through Osmund as Finlay brought back the main point; his father. "Have you seen him?" He repeated, eagerly. "Like, recently. I was wondering..." He broke off. He was starting to sound like the petty boy seeking for affection that he was, but had always done well to hide from the world. However, there was no not finishing that sentence and he continued. "Does he ever talk about me?" Did Archibald secretly miss him but couldn't take him back because Helena wouldn't let him? He needed to know and he prided himself with hope that perhaps it was Helena's fault that he had been detached from his father. Perhaps she had been intervening on their letters.

Finlay laughed bitterly at the other boy's question. It had been a long time since he'd seen his father, and even then it'd been a visit of maybe half an hour, really just a hand off of.money into a trust fund and an uncomfortable silence spent fidgeting on the couch. He still got sporadic gifts from the man, with notes 'you're really getting big' attached to a new broomstick he didn't want, or too-big trousers he could never dream of fitting but sometimes brought out from the back of his wardrobe and pulled on, tripping over the cuffs. He had heard the man mention Osmund a few times, detailing the growth of the older boy. "He did talk about you, a little. Like you would talk about a hobby or a pet." He hadn't meant to come off so mean, but he did want to wound to boy that he considered the real child, that truly belonged.

It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to realize that something was going here between the boys that wasnt entirely spoken about and not did it seem that it was about to be out in the open. One thing was for sure, Persephone could feel it lingering in the air and it was making her feel awkward.

"So yay! You survived that...coughing...fit...thingy," Persephone started, coming into the view of the two boys. She could tell she was no longer relevant in the conversation and was looking for a way out. "My candy!" She exclaimed and ducked down to pick up the rest of it. "No need to help! I've got it! Well, except for the chocolate frogs." She wasnt going to bother with that. She only wanted what she was going to purchase. After collecting her purchases, she hauled the basket to cash out and then passed the pair once more as she left the shop. "I'll see you guys later, alright?" She gave a smile and then left.

The presence of the girl had been nearly forgotten about as he focused on the prize. Finlay did seen to know his father, as a family friend, Osmund supposed. He was starting to think that Finlay was in the same position as he was, blood status wise, and no doubt his father would choose a prestigious family like Finlay's to be acquaintances with. However he didn't care too much about making friends with his father's friends kid, though it would probably be impressive to the man, as much as he wanted to hear what his father had said about him.

His posture picked up as Finlay confirmed that Archibald was talking about him to others. His heart raced as he eagerly listened to what had been said only for his hopes to come crashing down before him. He spoke of him like he was a pet? "What....what's that supposed to mean?" Osmund asked, half-heartedly, but he knew the answer. He was just some treasure to be polished and shown off. But wasnt being put on a pedestal something like being loved? It seemed to be the only form of love Osmund had ever received. "He's proud of me, though. Right?" He asked, feeling his composure melting from his face, slowly like a burning candle. "He must be if he talks about me like that!" His heart was weighing heavy in his chest as he desperately sought some sort of confirmation that some part of Archibald cared about him. Why did Finlay have to describe the man's affections thus and make him feel this way? He was content just a moment ago before he had spoken.

Finlay didn't know what to say. His father had never expressed any outright proudness for Osmund, just remarks that any parent would comment upon, like a birthday or passing grades. It never contained any true affection, just bare minimum love that came with having a child. Finlay decided to mention something he'd heard the man say once, just a small thing. "He said... you play guitar?" He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. Just the thought of the dead-beat he called father made tears of frustration brim. As he'd grown older the joy he held during his visits had grown to contempt. He'd realized that parents weren't just people you saw every once in a while, as he watched his friends' father teach them to ride brooms and show them tricks with their wands. "Don't worry, I know how he can be. He's not a great dad."

His head dropped and he could feel the corners of his mouth, usually straight and unconcerned, uncontrolably down. For years now he had been starving for his father's love but had been able to keep himself together and distract himself. However every emotion of sadness, of not being wanted, bubbled to the surface of him and Osmund had to let the bangs of his long hair fall into his face to hide himself if the tears that were pushing at his eyes were to fall. Nothing. Finlay paused as if trying to think of a way to put it gently. Everything That Archibald had said about him to Finlay probably happened awhile ago and now the man no longer cared in the sloghtest.

The boy's mouth opened and suddenly he was speaking again. Osmund couldn't believe what his ears were hearing. "He...he said that?" Osmund had only started playing guitar a few years ago and the only way Archibald would know about that would be if he had read his letters to him. "He reads my letters!" Osmund said somewhat happily to himself.

Who was this boy? He knew his name was Finlay, but how was it that it took til now for Osmund to find someone who knew his father like Finlay did? How was it that Osmund had never heard of this boy, not even his last name, if he was such a dear friend that Archibald told him about his own son? Osmund was about to ask when the boy said yet another peculiar thing that was oddly personal. "He's a great father! He's wealthy and a secure man capable of great things! Don't you dare say things about my father like that! Who do you think you are that you can judge such a powerful man!?" Osmund snapped, always being protective of the man whom he had envisioned as powerful and great and everything that he always wanted to be. So what if Archibald never visited, never wrote him letters!? He was still a great man at the end of the day and the problem wasnt him! "He's not a lousy father! I'm a lousy son!" And that, Osmund was convinced, was why Archibald wouldn't love him.

Osmund was really starting to get on Finlay's nerves. How could he harbor such love for his- their- father? He'd thought that maturity and intelligence increased with age but the older boy seemed to be severely lacking in these departments. Again he struggled internally about revealing the truth. Would it help or hurt the situation? Osmund seemed to be set on making the decision for him. How dare he question his judgement of the man? The other boy's self-loathing was the final straw. "He's not a great father! I... I know because he's my dad! You're my brother..." His shout tapered off into a whisper. He felt frustrated and angry and sad all at once, and he couldn't tell who he was more upset with. "Your father had an affair with my mom and she ended up with me. He treats me like a dirty secret he has to hide. He pays off my mom so no one will find out. But at least I have a trustfund, but it's no like my mom's family isn't rich." He laughed bitterly. "So yeah, he's not a great dad."

Osmund was bewildered by the other boy. To think that a stranger could so confidently rag on his father like that! It was an abomination, that's what it was! And even after Osmund had snapped and stood proudly defending his old man the boy didn't back down from his accusations. Somehow, and in the most unexpected way possible, the boy had defended his point as well.

"Brothers?" Osmund repeated, dumbly. His eyes were wide with shock. There was no way that could be true. Surely this boy was talking metaphorically or something. Perhaps Archibald had taken the boy under his wing and became a father like figure to the boy who was ungrateful in return. "Impossible." He wouldn't believe what the boy said was true. If he had a brother, he would've been told, right? And though Finlay was noticeably younger than he was, it wasnt like his age was young enough for him to be a product of a relationship with a woman after his father and Helena had divorced.

The argument wasnt even about the questionable quality of Archibald as a parent. Now all Osmund could focus on was getting away from the truth that him and this boy shared the same father. An affair, the boy cleverly concocted to answer his unspoken reasoning from before. Osmund laughed as his 'brother' finished his spiel. "Yeah right. I'd treat you like a dirty secret too since you are a liar!" He spat out the last word bitterly. "I don't know what kind of mad man you are to think that this is actually funny, but this joke is sick! My father is a great man and he would never do any of the horrible crimes you have accused him of!" He felt like the room was spinning. Though his mouth rebels against this truth that his father had an affair and the evidence was standing clear as day in front of him, his heart knew something was wrong. The details that Finlay knew about him. He really did know his father. Osmund just didn't want to believe what he had been told.

Finlay could understand the other boy's disbelief. If he himself hadn't been raised with the knowledge of his parentage he wouldn't believe it. It wasn't that he didn't think his mother capable of such a thing, but that he wouldn't wish such a childhood on anyone. To grow up with a mostly absent father and a mother that preferred the company of other aging socialites to her own child was a miserable way to grow up. Osmund's laughter hurt and the words he spat made Finlay want to crawl into a hole and stay there until term was over. Instead he did the only thing his body knew to do in such a situation: he cried. Great big fat tears rolled down his cheeks and snot bubbled out of his nose. "You're a prick and I hate you!" He back away quickly, tripping in his haste and running out the door.

Osmund didn't even know what he wanted from the other boy. For him to say it was all a prank and laugh and Osmund would make a note to hex the lad when he saw him in school? That seemed like a nice impossible alternative to what would really happen. It was undeniably the truth that the two boys were related but Osmund wasnt about to give in and start calling Finlay brother.

His arms defensively went to fold across his chest as he finished yelling at the boy and stood back to watch his reaction. He knew he said some harsh stuff, but his eyebrow still raised in confusion as the boy's previously charming face was askewed by tears and snot as the boy started to cry. Seeing the boy's pain neither concerned Osmund or gave him pleasure, but as Finlay ran off, calling him names, Osmund replied nastily with, "yeah the feeling is mutual, you little shit!" 

His heart was pounding in his chest as he continued to turn over the news in his head. He wasnt good enough for his father so that the man went elsewhere to find his perfect family. That was the message that was coming across loud and clear to him and if Finlay really was the preferred son, Osmund promised to hate the kid and make his life miserable.