Chapter Text
Ruth decides to return with Eileen to Cokeworth in the end. She knows she promised, she knows it’s important to Eileen that she retrieve the watch, yet she also knows this could make or break the future she comes from. She isn’t a Gryffindor like her best friend, like her mother. She doesn’t jump head first into things. She’s cautious and thinks her paths through before deciding. Even so, she can’t help but frown in incredulity when Eileen puts out her hand upon reaching the front door of her home on Spinner’s End.
“Give me your wand,” she orders.
Ruth tightens her grip on the smooth wood in her palm. “Pardon?”
The woman rolls her eyes at her – as if she’s the daft one . “That wand was bought for you under the pretense you would use it to retrieve my father’s pocket watch. At the moment, you are doing no such thing. So, I want the wand back.”
Ruth presses her lips thin and thinks, ‘I could just apparate away right now.’
Eileen narrows her eyes and Ruth suddenly feels terribly uncomfortable, as if the woman in front of her is reading her mind. Stepping forward in a threatening manner, the other woman says, “I have disapparation wards on the house.”
She blinks. “How–” only to cut herself off before she can finish her question. Ruth knows how. The woman performed legilimency on her! Balling her hands into fists, she growls, “How dare you!”
“You’re the one breaking your promise!” Eileen shouts back.
Ruth’s eyes go wide, livid and ready to hex this bloody bitch to next Sunday. “I am not! I don’t break promises!”
“Then why have you come back to Cokeworth with me?” Eileen demands.
Ruth is about to yell about the future and the delicate situation they’ve found themselves in when a small voice from behind says, “The kitchen is clean, Mother. May I go out?”
Her head swivels around to look at the tense little form standing just past the threshold of the door to the house. Eileen, for her part, does not look at all at her son. Instead, she continues to glare at the side of Ruth’s head as she replies, “You may. If I find you are lying, I will be telling your father when he comes home, Severus.”
Severus nods. “Yes, Mother.” Then, without another word, he closes the front door behind him and sprints past them to who knows where (Ruth puts her money on Lily’s house, or wherever they go to meet each other).
Sighing, Ruth lets her shoulders fall in defeat as she says, “Look, I came back here because I need to think . There are a lot of angles to be considering here. If you just wanted the watch for a sentimental reason, I wouldn’t be bothered at all to retrieve it for you. However… From the way you’ve talked about it, you plan to give it to Severus so he can raise his standing in Slytherin.
“I don’t know if I can abide by that. It might ruin the future–”
“–Or make the future you know!” Eileen buts in, face mulish and angry.
Ruth closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Right,” she says, “or make the future I know.” Offering her palms up to the woman across from her, Ruth asks, “Can’t you see at all where I’m coming from?”
Eileen looks away. “We should go inside. We need to change into Muggle attire before a neighbor comes by and gets an eyeful.”
Ruth lets her hands fall to her side in what would look like to any outsider as defeat. Yet, that is far from how Ruth feels. She has only known Eileen a short time, but she thinks she already understands her quite well. The change of subject is the closest to a “yes, I can” she’s going to get from the other woman. Eileen does not like to be wrong and will avoid saying she is at all costs.
-v-v-v-
Ruth laughs. Picking up the toaster she had transfigured from a clod of dirt outside, she hands it to Missus Wroth and says, “I don’t even know why I bought this. I don’t even like toast! I guess I got a little carried away…”
Eyes admiring as she inspects the clunky silver box, the older woman flashes Ruth a grin. “Oh, we all do that from time to time. If you don’t end up using it, I’m sure you’ll find the right person to gift it to eventually!”
She smiles back, thinking once more that she really likes Missus Wroth. There is no doubt in Ruth’s mind she is the nosiest bird she’s ever encountered, but it’s all very well meaning from what she has witnessed. She wants to know about Eileen to better help her when she finally decides to leave her husband (which she feels is inevitable, even if Ruth is uncertain). She likes to chat with the Donald’s family down the road because she knows what it’s like raising six children and when she hears they’re short on money for this or that, buys them more bread or pencils for the children and leaves it on their doorstep. She likes visiting with the Humphrey Widower on Butcher Lane because she knows it brightens his day and he likes to gossip with her because it makes him feel like he’s a part of Cokeworth and knows the people of it even though he can hardly leave his bedroom most days.
She’s such a good woman – perhaps even great – and Ruth knows as their chatter about her day out with Eileen comes to an end that Missus Wroth will be able to give her desperately needed insight on her current dilemma. Taking a page from her mother’s book, she dives head first into the conversation. “What would you do if you could give someone something that could change not only their entire life, but everyone’s lives? But what if you couldn’t be sure if that change would be for the better of not just them, but everyone in the world? What if it made that person’s life better, but ruined everyone else’s? Would you give it to them?”
Missus Wroth’s smile melts off her face. Expression serious, she begins to sway where she stands and turns her gaze to the world outside her kitchen’s window. “What if this something changed everyone’s lives for the better, including the receiver?”
Ruth does her best not to roll her eyes. Surely Missus Wroth sees the answer is an obvious one? However, the stretching silence tells Ruth the older woman is waiting, wanting to hear her answer. “Of course I’d give it to them then!” she finally exclaims, unable to hide her annoyance.
“How good are the chances, you think?” Missus Wroth continues, unbothered by her tone.
“For that good outcome, you mean?” Ruth asks, unsure if she’s understanding.
The woman nods. “Yes, that’s what I mean.”
“I’d say the chances for either outcome are fifty-fifty right now,” Ruth admits.
Missus Wroth makes contemplative noise and turns more fully toward the window. “What’s your gut say?”
Ruth’s mouth fell open. “I’m sorry, my gut ?”
The older woman looks back at Ruth now, expression stony. “It seems quite obvious to me the math isn’t going to give you an answer, so what do you feel , Ruth? Does the idea of giving this thing to this person tie your inside up in knots? Or does it feel like something you ought to do?”
Ruth pauses, thoroughly thinking over Missus’s Wroth’s words. She really isn’t the type of person who listens to her stomach. She’s always thought one made better decisions with their head rather than their heart, but since her mind’s failing her at present…
Ruth takes Missus Wroth’s advice. She considers Eileen and Severus. Eileen’s so prickly, so quick to lash out and think the worst, but, even so, Ruth knows a person would have to be blind not to see how much she loves her son. She only wants the watch to make his time easier at Hogwarts. Giving a little urchin like Severus that watch, a connection to a noble bloodline, will make him far more palpable to his snobbish housemates. And Severus…
Ruth knows him best from the history books she read as a girl. He’s a Death Eater, a hero, a contradiction. He died for love, but from all accounts nearly hated the very person he dedicated his life to saving. As for the little boy she’s briefly met… All she’s been able to think while watching him is he deserves better. A better home, a better life, a better mother .
As easy as it is to see from talking to Eileen that she loves Severus, she does very little to show it to the boy. She’s cold and hard and curt with him in all the ways that urge Ruth to report her to the proper authorities. A person shouldn’t treat their child like that. Even when around a stranger like her. It’s wrong, wrong, wrong .
Ruth whispers, “He deserves a better life than what he has.”
Missus Wroth sits back down beside Ruth. “I think that’s your answer, dear.”