Someone choose who's left and who's leaving

[consumptivewife.livejournal.com]

*The boxes are ready. Bernadette Crouch has avoided looking at them. Instead, she stares into the face just as freckled, waxen and thin as her own, half-smiling. She's had Winky prepare one of her son's favourites - cucumber sandwiches - a small platter of tiny squares arranged in an artful swirl. She has soup, which she's always found easier to ladle around and neglect without raising her son's concern, without reminding him of her systematic absence. She just wants to enjoy the spectacularly rare moment when she is vibrant enough and Barty still enough for them to enjoy a peaceful meal.

She fiddles with a cracker, lank straw hair falling over her shoulders. She's quiet, not out of lack of conversation, but simply because she enjoys listening to her son babble on, something he's remarkably good at.*

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[mad-actually.livejournal.com]

*Barty returns her smile, always secretly just as blissful about these moments as his mother. He continues his story, which so far hasn't made a great deal of sense, but neither party seems to mind.*

- Regulus didn't believe me about the gremlins, but than he found the teeth in his bedpost - the proof was undeniable.