[gravesend] a half written story without any ending || isaac

Isaac nodded slowly at her comment, needing to be home after this, and even though he wished they had more time together, he wasn't going to ask her to stay out later. It was far past the middle of the night now, and the way she spoke about her family, Isaac expected she didn't want to anger her parents. He tried to keep the disappointment off of his face as he was about to respond, but watching her dip a french fry into the ice cream had him sputtering.

"Did you just..." He blinked; this witch was absolutely mental, "Did you dip a fucking french fry into the ice cream? What are you, some kind of psychopath?" Isaac's words sounded harsh, but there was a smile brightening his face and a laugh threatening to spill over at any moment. Just when he thought Magnolia couldn't get any more unique, she went and did something certifiable. Isaac shook his head at her, still not believing what he had just seen, and reached for a pretzel bite.

"We lived somewhere else when I was a kid, but I could not tell you where," He offered, which even though it wasn't much information, it was a lot for Isaac to share. He never spoke about his childhood, preferring to pretend none of it ever happened versus saying it out loud, but he did many things around Magnolia that he wouldn't normally do. "What about you and Gravesend?" He returned as he watched to see what insane thing she would do next.

“What?” she said casually, a smile on her face as she dipped the half-eaten French fry into the ice cream once again before finishing it off. “My tastes too refined for you?” she teased in a very unapologetic manner; no one could get in the way of Magnolia and the way she enjoyed her food. It was not the most intuitive combination of food but probably the mildest one, it had been a habit of hers for quite some time combining foods that were seemingly mismatched for improved flavor. It probably had something to do with her poor eating habits (she ate way too much junk food) and her body trying to make up for it by giving her strange cravings. Either way, Isaac had not been the first person that took issue with it.

“It’s pretty good actually, perfect ratio of salty and sweet,” she offered as a poor explanation, wondering about what his childhood was like and his father (whose photos she had not seen in his loft) but she knew it had been a touchy subject earlier and she was determined to not pry too much at the moment, she didn’t want the night to end on a sour note considered they’d been doing so well. Sort of.

“Yeah,” she answered, taking another French fry and dipping it into the ice cream a little less this time before offering it to him, “Try it, it’s good,” she offered before returning to the topic at hand. “Uh I think we’ve lived in Gravesend all my life at least, you know my dad used to play Quidditch for the Griffins so since then I guess,” she shrugged it off. “Nice neighborhood but compared to this, the food’s a bit shit and very expensive,” she smiled, “This place’s been around since you were a kid?”

Isaac scrunched his face up at her when she dipped another fry and held it out toward him. It was so weird, too weird, but he wasn't one to back down from a challenge, so of course, he took the abomination from her hand and tried it. And... it was not that bad. Honestly, he liked it. "This is disgusting," He lied, purely on principle, and then ate the rest of the fry. Isaac sat back against the booth seat, and the worn vinyl squeaked some as he moved.

The teenager nodded when she explained her time in Gravesend; he knew about her father and tried to keep the jealousy from his face. Isaac was pretty sure that was the only reason why Hawkins Jr. made it onto the Slytherin Quidditch team, but he didn't know how skilled the second year was because the teenager had quit the team before he could find out. Scoffing when she mentioned it was a nice neighborhood compared to Tilbury, Isaac commented negatively, "Not hard to be nicer than Tilbury," And that was the truth. Still, he also knew Gravesend was an affluent and expensive neighborhood.

"Yeah, I think so," Isaac did not know the history of the place. Besides the fact that the food was pretty good and could get a beer when his aunt worked, he never really cared to. The restaurant had been bought a few times, but the name never changed despite who was in charge. Shrugging, he took another french fry and dipped into the ice cream quickly, hoping she wouldn't notice, and then popped it into his mouth. "Not a whole lot is nice about Tilbury, but I guess this place is alright," Isaac didn't mention that he spent half his days here as a little kid when his mum was working double shifts, and the diner became his daycare.

Magnolia rolled her eyes at him as he made disparaging comments about her tastes for what seemed like the thousandth time: her clothes, her choices, her likes and dislikes, he seemed to have an opinion about everything. At first, she had minded it entirely too much but lately it had not bothered her as much, probably a result of becoming accustomed to it. But, more realistically, because they came from him. Regardless of what he said, he took the French fry and ate it anyway, which was much more than she had expected from him to begin with. If Magnolia only read into what he did rather than what he said, she would have deduced plenty about him.

But there was that pesky problem of her brain sort of twisting things to mean what she wanted them to mean, a part of herself she hadn’t really ever dealt with but had caused her much heartbreak in the past (minimal one-sided heartbreak that the other party normally didn’t even realize). So she needed words but if one closed their eyes and only listened to what Isaac said, it felt more like he was playing a game with her, his win being the satisfaction of knowing he could ruin her reputation in one way or another. It was obvious that he didn’t like her at all.

When he took another French fry she focused her attention on finding her spoon which had been misplaced under a napkin and started to cut up a bit of the apple crumble with it, making sure to top it off with ice cream. “Wow, this is amazing,” she muttered, mostly to herself after she took a bite, almost immediately going in for the next one. This was the sort of quality places in Gravesend didn’t have, this tasted like it was cooked by somebody’s grandma, full of love, not by some patisserie that had gotten his education at some overpriced culinary school and couldn’t make a thing without consulting a recipe. It seemed like something a girl her age wouldn’t notice but she did, her mum was the perfect mother in every sense of the word, and home cooking had been a huge part of her upbringing. It was one of the many reasons she loved being home during breaks and why she normally would rather go home for a meal instead of out for one.

“I like it,” she said with a small smile, not like he was trying to convince her to but she wanted to say it because she did, “So you know,” she looked down at her spoon as she scooped some more of the crumble onto it, “thanks for bringing me here, much nicer than that stupid party, that’s for sure,” she added with a small laugh. “Even the beer here is way better.”

Magnolia either didn't notice or let it slip that he ate another one of her delicious fries dipped in psychotic ice cream because she didn't mention it. Either way, Isaac appreciated the silence of it, and he took another of her french fries as she began to dig into the crumble. There wasn't much going for Tilsbury, but he supposed World's End was one of those rare gems. It was kind of like the makeshift town hall, church, and daycare center. Everyone came here, cheered on the rugby cups, settled disputes, and even had wedding ceremonies outback. It was a community center, in a way, not that Isaac bought into that kind of bullshit or anything.

Halfway done with the food, Isaac had barely noticed how much time had gone by without them fighting. Maybe they just needed something to distract them, or perhaps they were both a little too drink or too tired to bicker; either way, it was nice. If only it could always be this way with the two of them. The Slytherin wished that they got along more because despite how much he pretended, Isaac did like spending time with her. Magnolia was the opposite of bland, despite being a bit of a square, and that was hard to find. Isaac was so bored with his friends and their same old bullshit, but Magnolia was different. She drove him crazy, and she dipped her fries into ice cream, but he supposed he liked those things too.

"Yeah, it is not too bad," He shrugged; it wasn't like he could take any credit for the food or the place, so he just agreed. "That party was shit; I have been to better," Isaac mused, shaking his head, thinking about where they had come from earlier. Magnolia aside, the New Year's Eve party had been a bit of a drag. Or maybe he had just hated it because he wasn't there with her, even though he had told her no when she originally asked. Either way, the teenager was having a lot more fun spending time with her alone. "Glad we left," He told her as he had another mozzarella stick.

He did not really acknowledge her gratitude but maybe it was only because it felt weird to say you’re welcome in a situation like this, where they had sort of ended up here rather than planned it. It wasn’t like they were old friends or perfect strangers coincidently meeting up at an event and deciding to spend some one on one time together. No, it hadn’t been like that at all. Rather, he had scolded her for trying to run off with someone she had just met, and she had yelled at him for not acknowledging her feelings. And that had someone transformed itself into these small moments that only confused her more than they answered questions. So while this was very nice, a completely unexpected part of the long night she had anticipated, Magnolia had to still come to terms with the idea that it might be the first and last time something like this happened.

If anything, what Magnolia did gather from his statement was that he had gone to better parties as in he went to parties all the time and that although she thought she was special for spending time with him outside of that context, it had only been because he was bored and wanted to leave as well. His friends probably wanted to stick around, what better excuse to leave than her? It probably wasn’t fair that she was making all of these assumptions about who he was and what he was thinking but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he felt responsible for her because he knew her from school not necessarily because he actually wanted to hang out with her.

“Me too,” she added, going in for the fries again, unsure if she wanted to ruin this feeling with serious conversation. But she couldn’t really help it, especially not when she had more questions than she had answers to and it was the middle of the night and she was feeling a little sleepy and very confused by what had happened. “You didn’t have to keep me company or anything,” she started, the topic already felt too serious but she was halfway in, might as well set the awkwardness adjuster at max levels, “sort of sucks to have to spend the first day of the year with me, innit?” she laughed it off, it was starting to sound like a pitiful attempt at self-deprecating humor so she ended it with that, letting him take it as seriously or as playfully as he wanted.

"I know," Isaac replied flatly; he knew he didn't have to spend the rest of the night with her; Isaac never did anything he didn't want to. But instead of telling her that he had wanted to spend the night with her, Isaac said nothing and kept chewing. He shrugged when she made a backhanded joke about spending the first day of the New Year with her because he disagreed. Something about Magnolia doubted herself, making a joke at her own expense, irritated Isaac enough to get him to say something, though.

"Not really?" His eyebrow raised as he countered what she said with minimal emphasis. "I mean, you are pretty fun to be around," Isaac wondered if she thought it sucked to be in her company. Magnolia always seemed confident, so he figured that wasn't the case. She was stubborn and headstrong, and she never let him win, so instead of feeling pity that she might have poorly thought of herself, Isaac grew smug. Was she fishing for compliments?

"Besides, someone has to keep you from going home with strangers," Isaac informed her confidently, the smile on his face reaching his eyes. Finishing what was left of his second pint, he thought about going for a third but decided against it. Drinking two back to back without moving around was undoubtedly going to catch up to him soon enough.

“You think I’m fun to be around?” she repeated. Had he actually given her a compliment? the thought alone was mind-boggling enough that she did not realize right away she asked a question he has just answered. If he called her out on it, she would just chalk it up to being exhausted or drunk or whatever excuse she could fabricate to move away from the fact that she did feel a little touched by his words even if he didn’t necessarily mean them as seriously as she might have thought he did. And there it was again, that feeling that there was something they were not saying but they were both feeling, making her feel weird all over again and at a loss for words.

But she had to keep the conversation going, be more believable if she wanted to make him think that this wasn’t as fundamental of a moment as it was in her head. And that wasn’t really hard since what started out as a compliment with Isaac sort of always ended up in an insult and true to form, here he was again insulting her as if she was going to runoff with that stranger. “I knew his name, at the time, so he wasn’t like a complete stranger,” she defended herself with a smile. Magnolia was no longer mad about it so much so that she could actually laugh at herself in the process. But only because she was still internally reeling from that conversation earlier. 
 
“Had you not been a complete jerk about it I might have been going home with you,” she smiled, not meaning anything by it but she did want to remind him that they had been in his flat a bit ago and something might have happened if he’d learned to not bring up things (or better yet, girls) she didn’t like at the wrong time. Magnolia had mostly been in the wrong here as well, but she was not about to take the blame. “But I guess underneath all that, you’re alright,” she went in for the apple crumble again, it was so good, “and you’ve won me over with apple crumble so I see you did have intentions all along,” she brought the spoon closer to her mouth before realizing she hadn’t really seen him eat it and instead she offered it to him, “Want some? It’s really good, you’re missing out.”

"Yeah, don't make a big deal out of it," Isaac said quickly, his words starting to mush together as the beer took its toll. While the wizard knew he wasn't exactly friendly to her, he thought she had figured out what he was doing, spending so much time with her by now. It had taken him a little while to realize it, but he couldn't pretend like he didn't like her anymore. He thought with the conversation they had had earlier, she knew it, but maybe he hadn't been specific enough. Her joke didn't make him laugh, even though it should have.

Instead, he frowned at her, "You did go home with me," He clarified like it was some significant achievement. They might not have hooked up, but it was still important to Isaac. It was still something special because she was the only person from Hogwarts that had been to his flat. She didn't know it, though, and he wasn't going to mention it.

"If I had known all it took was two beers and an apple pie..." His words trailed off because he wasn't sure where he had been going with it. Saying crass things to make her uncomfortable was fun, but Isaac had no intention of hooking up with her meaninglessly. So he looked away slowly, toward the loud bar and the party-goers, and then back to her holding the spoon out to him. "No thanks, I don't like apples," It was something that probably wouldn't have come up in a million years, but it was also the truth.

They had demolished the french fries, most of the mozzarella sticks and other appetizers were gone, and she was making progress with the dessert, which was good because drinking on an empty stomach was never a good idea. Isaac avoided eye contact with her as he watched the bar again, absently he spoke, "I am going to get us some waters," He announced, sliding out of the booth and heading back to the bar. This time he went straight to the counter, pushed his way through the crowd, and told his aunt what he wanted. She obliged, with some curse words, and gave him a pitcher and two glasses. Isaac returned to the table and poured water into the glasses before sitting back down.

"Do you want anything else? They are going to close the kitchen soon.”

Unbeknownst to Isaac, the teenaged girl had already made a very big deal out of it, going as far as to consider how this one little phrase might change their entire relationship. Well not that far, as she was only again reminded of the words he had told her on her birthday, something about never wanting to date her, never, not in a million years, not even if she was the last girl on Earth. Well, he had not said all of that, but he might as well have, it was exactly how deeply Magnolia had taken it to heart.

“For a jacket,” she clarified, trying to minimize everything else that could have almost happened at his flat because she didn’t want her mind to spiral about what they could have been doing instead of sitting here in the diner if she hadn’t been so dramatic about stupid Allison. But he should have realized by now that the girl was becoming an increasingly sore spot for her even though she barely knew her. “Well it’s going to take a lot more than just that next time,” she said in a challenge, wondering if he would take her up on it sometime before they went back to Hogwarts and invite her over again. Knowing Isaac, probably not but a girl could dream, right? When he rejected her (rejection one hundred and something, surely) she pouted but didn’t press the issue, eating the delicious treat herself instead. It was his loss, maybe moving on to spoon-sharing level was too much, too soon. Oh well.

Before she could protest about the waters or comment how nice it was for him to be so considerate he had gotten up, and she wondered if he was doing it because she had said something wrong or because he was ready to get out of there. Maybe she wasn’t as fun as she had been earlier in the night, her charm did tend to run out after a few hours. Even so, she put on a smile when she returned. “Thanks,” she said quietly, taking the water and sipping it slowly. It was refreshing, and a much nicer taste in her mouth than that of all the alcohol she had been drinking all night.

“Uh, no I’m alright, thanks,” she said, “what are you doing after this?” she asked slowly, trying not to be awkward about feeling like the conversation was heading towards a goodbye pretty soon. It was a pity really but at least she wanted to know if he’d go off to find his friend again or he’d call it a night. The girl was nothing if not nosy to a fault.

Isaac sat back down in the booth, picking at what was left in front of them even though he wasn't really hungry anymore, and shrugged at her question. "I figured you had to go home pretty soon? It is almost four in the morning..." Isaac's words drifted off again. He was tired, exhausted even, but also wide awake because of everything that had already happened tonight. He was somehow simultaneously here at this table with her and again reliving each moment. He shouldn't have yelled at her at the party, but fuck that wizard who was going to bring a little home. And maybe he was wrong to bring up Allison when they had almost had a perfect moment in his flat. He couldn't take anything back; they could only move forward, but half drunk and full-on exhausted, he couldn't help but think deeply about all of it and none of it at once.

He sank into the seat, slouching so much that his head was below hers. As he moved, his knees knocked against hers, but he didn't apologize for it. "When does your dad wake up?" Isaac asked quietly, remembering she mentioned she had to be home before he got up to keep her story intact. As he asked the question, Isaac began to wonder if she had meant something else by hers. He always assumed her meaning because it felt like neither one of them accurately communicated what they were feeling. And he was almost always wrong when he made snap assessments. "Do you have something going on after this?" He asked, an eyebrow-raising; it was four in the morning; what else could she have planned? Was she trying to tell him she was ready to go now? Was she bored?

“Unfortunately,” she nodded at his question because it really was a bit of a bummer that she had to go home to make sure that she wasn’t kept prisoner for the rest of her life, her dad really was that sort of person. Then she realized that this conversation didn’t make sense because as Isaac had stated it was four in the morning so her plan was to go home, sneak in and pretend that she’d come from Mavis earlier because she missed her own bed or something sentimental like that, and she’d then sleep off all that drama and exhaustion until she woke up earlier and remembered it all at one time while trying to do something demure like serve herself some cereal for lunch. And then she’d overthink everything and wonder what it meant and where it had all gone right or gone wrong but go back to doing nothing about it.

“Uh it’s been pretty dark out till eight lately so I guess probably around seven or so,” she shrugged, not really sure just knowing that her dad always seemed to wake up before her but that probably had more to do with Quidditch habits than anything else. Not that it ever bothered her because he normally let her sleep in but this was completely different. If she was feeling brave enough, she might even go as far as to owl Mavis and tell her what’s happened, in case her dad became suspicious and called up the young witch himself. Now that was the sort of conflict the girl didn’t want to get into.

“Sleep,” she said with a smile, “I miss my bed,” she added, feeling sleepy just thinking about it. Had circumstances been different, maybe she would have just stayed over at his, not like that but to sleep and it would have been cute, and they would have cuddled, but yeah, that didn’t really sound like Isaac’s style at all. “If you want the hoodie back I can owl it if you’d like? Probably in the afternoon, I can take it ‘round to the cleaners around lunch…” she added, it was a gesture of goodwill, but she also sort of wanted to hear him say that he was okay with her keeping it, she didn’t think she’d want to part with it at all, and she was already planning to sleep in it but obviously would never confess to this.

'Unfortunately' was a good sign, he thought to himself; it meant that she didn't want to go home yet. Isaac didn't want her to leave, either, but he didn't say that out loud. Nodding slowly when she answered, he couldn't help wonder what it must have been like to have parents around in the mornings. Did they all have breakfast together? He assumed so and then shook the jealous thoughts from his mind. Even if his mum tried to have breakfast with him, he would probably have found some excuse to leave, so it didn't matter.

Magnolia's sleepy smile made Isaac smile in turn, mostly when he learned about what her plans for the rest of the night (morning?) were. She was going to go home and go to bed, and he was going to do the same, but something told the teenager he wasn't going to get any sleep. Her questions about the sweatshirt confused him because he had pretty much written the hoodie off as a loss. He assumed she would keep it, girls did that, but the idea of Magnolia wearing his sweater did not annoy him in the way that he thought it would.

"Uh, no, don't worry about it," Isaac said softly with a shrug, "I kind of figured you were going to steal it anyway," He tried to make a joke, the smile still on his face, and then downed his glass of water. If he was going to get her back to Gravesend, he couldn't be drunk. "So, I guess if you are all done, I will go pay?" Isaac asked as he sat back up in the booth, this time, purposefully brushing his knee against hers, and looked toward the bar. Most of the crowd was gone now, his aunt was cleaning glasses, and it was clear that the place was going to close up pretty soon.

“I’m still deciding whether this is the one I want or whether I want to trade again,” she teased, but it was only a half-joke. The sweater she was in now smelled more like her floral perfume than him so for the sake of sentimentality, it made sense to ask for the one that he was wearing back. Then again, she wasn’t sure if that sounded as sweet out loud as it had in her head or if he’d think she was some weirdo for asking for something like that in the first place. But at this rather, she had already said it and now it was up to him to decide what he wanted that to mean. At this point it seemed pointless to deny the obvious.

“But thanks,” she said again, though on second thought the fact that he had given her his sweatshirt only made her upset because it made her realize how much more she actually did like him compared to how little she was supposed to like him at this point in their narrative. She hated that he did things like this, it was almost like he knew exactly what buttons to push and at the right time to get her exactly when he wanted her, wrapped around his finger. But considering how much she had learned about him and how fun most of it had been, Magnolia supposed that she wasn’t entirely upset by the events.

Magnolia felt him brush his knee against her and immediately thought it meant something though the more sensible (almost nonexistent) part of her reminded her that it was all in her head again. Whatever move she thought he was making he could have made ages ago; this was probably her just hoping for something to happen and it made her a little sad thinking about it. “Let me know how much I owe you in sickles,” she offered, “I always pay off my debts,” she smiled, moving to stand up as well. “I’ll come with?” she offered, not really wanting to be left there to mull on her thoughts.

Shaking his head, Isaac laughed when she stated she might want to trade sweaters again; just when he thought Magnolia was done surprising him, she did something completely different than anyone else he knew. Isaac couldn't pretend like he didn't like that about her, though. As he brought up paying, she, of course, offered to pay for her share, but Isaac frowned. "I've got it," He told her, giving her a look like he didn't want to argue about it, but knowing the look would probably not deter her one bit. Magnolia was just as stubborn as he was, it seemed, but Isaac was going to win this one. He knew she didn't have any muggle money, and as long as he never told her the current conversion rate, he figured she would be powerless to stop him.

"Yeah, okay," He said, pushing out of the booth and waiting for her to stand with him as they approached the bar. His aunt gave him a look like she desperately wanted to be introduced to the beautiful young witch Isaac had brought in tonight, but he ignored her. "Thanks," He said unenthusiastically as he placed the notes on the bar and made sure to leave a little extra for a tip. Cheryl had gone out of her way to serve them beer; it was the least he could do.

Turning back to Magnolia, Isaac motioned toward the front door and pretended not to notice that they were the restaurant's last patrons. Isaac cursed at the cold as they headed back outside. It was the middle of winter, but he'd forgotten how chilly it was while they were drinking inside the diner. He was reminded now, and he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his sweater. "Ferry is this way," He motioned, already starting to shiver, "Are you cold?" He asked as they began to head in the direction of the river. She already had his sweater on, and there wasn't much he could do about her short skirt, but he held one arm out anyway in case she wanted to tuck against him while they walked.