Transcending Disaster

[Monty Pendleton]

The reunion, in all, had been a complete disaster. Firstly, Monty and Liselle had had no idea Monty's father had died, and the news had been delivered only once they enquired as to whether he were coming; secondly, Monty's eldest half-brother, Ben, had been paged to the hospital ten minutes after the drinks were poured; and thirdly, Monty had felt so sick with anticipation all afternoon that he couldn't eat any of Mrs. Ellis's dinner. Feeling ungrateful, mortified, and still trying to process the news of his father's death, he finally excused himself from the table and slipped out of the back door for some air.

It was rare for the reality of a situation to transcend the disaster of Monty's imagination, but in this case, he'd scarcely scratched the surface of possibility. Everything had gone wrong. His father's family was nice enough, but Monty felt out of place among them - a fact not remotely helped by his having dressed in very plain, muggle clothing for the occasion. If anything, the clothes only contributed to his anxiety. He'd dressed eccentrically for so long that he'd begun to take for granted the confidence his apparel gave him; without it, he felt about as naked and vulnerable as if he'd turned up wearing nothing at all. In addition to that, Margo, his recently-discovered-to-be niece, looked just about as uncomfortable as he felt. Monty couldn't really blame her. Imagine finding out your batty Potions professor was also your long-lost uncle! If he could have chosen to disappear in that moment, he surely would have.

Venturing a short way into the garden, Monty found a perch on a low brick wall, partially concealed by the low-hanging boughs of an old tree. There he rolled his head back to look up at the English grey sky, blinking back the tears until they formed more quickly than he could repress them. How could his mother not have known her ex-husband had died? Why had Monty thought this a good idea? Why had he ever come back?

 

[Margo Ellis]

When Margo had been told that her long-lost uncle, Richard Layton (now Montgomery Pendleton), had finally reconnected with the family, she'd been far less surprised than she ought have. It was thanks to Margo and Odette's meddling in his personal life that he'd been forced to reveal himself, lest word spread that he was a missing man, or Margo and her friend begin to worry why their Potions professor had run away from home and assumed a new identity. It had all happened a very long time ago - thirty-two years, to be precise - but Margo had to admit that amidst her trepidation at the family reunion, she was relieved there wasn't anything suspicious going on. She'd always been a little intimidated by the eccentric old man; something about his unwavering confidence and excessive good cheer made her uncomfortable in his presence. So when he'd shown up at the house wearing a plain old jacket, shirt, and trousers, his usual, buoyant charm smothered in a layer of nerves and uncertainty, Margo had felt quite perturbed by the change.

A few moments after her uncle excused himself, Margo set down her cutlery and announced she had to use the bathroom. Rather than taking a right in the hall, however, she followed the cool breeze trickling in through the open back door. Outside, she gave the door a hard yank shut; it took a bit of force, else it had a habit of opening again. She couldn't see the professor at first; he was well hidden in a small alcove half way down the garden path. Two steps across the patio, she stopped dead. What if he wanted to be left alone? Honestly, Margo wasn't all that thrilled by the prospect of talking to him, either, but she still felt responsible for what had happened to him, and she'd never had the chance to sincerely apologise. Steeling her nerves, she forced herself onward, coming to a second sickening halt when she caught a glimpse of his face. He was crying. Not a lot, but still enough to make Margo wish she'd turned around when she had the chance. "S-sorry, Professor," she said. "Do you want me to leave you alone?" She'd never seen him like this before. She'd never even imagined he could be like this. He was always so happy, and intense. Now he looked the way she often felt; defeated, and inadequate. "I just came to say sorry."

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Deep in thought, Monty hardly heard the slamming of the back door, or the footsteps coming down the garden path. When he saw Margo, though, he wished he'd been paying more attention; he could have used a moment or two to dry his face and compose himself before his niece turned up. While it was too late to conceal his tears, he brushed at them anyway, looking down at the ground and shaking his head no. She didn't have to leave. Even if he'd wanted it, he didn't feel he had the authority to command her around her own house; but truth be told, of all the people inside that might have come out, Margo was the least he'd worried about. Besides his mother, he'd known Margo the longest, and had come to determine that she was not a judgemental character. Well - he hoped not, anyway.

Confused by her apology, the professor looked up. "What are you sorry for?" he asked, without his usual affectation. He couldn't remember her having upset him, or done anything remotely warranting apology, and he didn't like to think she might be harbouring self-blame over circumstances far beyond her control.

 

[Margo Ellis]

Margo didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed Professor Pendleton had shaken his head. On the one hand, she was glad she hadn't upset him so terribly he resented her, but on the other, she'd never felt so awkward about anything in all her life - not even when she'd tripped face-first in a muddy puddle at primary school. Warily, the Ravenclaw took a seat on the wall nearby. Unlike Monty's, her feet didn't reach the ground; she swung them nervously as she began to explain. "Well, if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be here, would you?" she said. "I made you do this, by being too nosy for my own good. I really do wish I'd minded my own business, Sir. I'm really, really sorry. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't think about your feelings." Margo sighed, watching her feet. It hadn't all been her - Odette had had a hand in it all, too - but she couldn't blame her friend for her own curiosity. She'd wanted to know whether Professor Pendleton was her uncle as much as Odette had. "I'll understand if you don't forgive me."

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty didn't know what to expect of his student, but it certainly wasn't the maturity that came out of her mouth. For a thirteen year old girl, she really thought carefully about the consequences of her actions. Monty let her finish, and then paused for a moment before he replied. "Yes, you're right," he said, not unkindly. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you and Odette; and it wasn't very considerate to confront me the way you did." Though he didn't mean to make Margo feel bad, he wasn't prepared to lie about the way she'd made him feel. "But I've already forgiven you for that. We all make mistakes; in some cases, it's the only way to learn." He managed a small smile. "Thank you for the apology. I think I owe you one, too. I've been a terrible guest." Monty sighed softly. "Do you suppose you can forgive me for that?"

 

[Margo Ellis]

When Professor Pendleton told Margo he'd long forgiven her for what she'd done, a weight she hadn't been conscious of carrying lifted from her shoulders. She didn't like to hear his confirmation of her inconsiderate behaviour, but he was only being fair; besides, she'd already known how he'd made him feel. It had been written all over his face when she and Odette had gone to talk to him in his office. Looking back on it now, the Ravenclaw could hardly believe she'd done something so thoughtless, all for her own satisfaction. Still, what was done was done, and like Professor Pendleton said, she'd certainly learned from her mistakes. At least, she wasn't going to force anybody else to reconnect with their family again in a hurry.

Stricken by his last comment, Margo immediately said, "You haven't!" Given a few more seconds to think about it, however, she realised her uncle hadn't been a very good guest at all. Still, she couldn't blame him. She'd felt almost as awful as him when her mum had dropped the bombshell that his dad had died several years ago. He couldn't expect to feel particularly cheerful after that, could he? Especially not if he'd been expecting to see him. "I mean, OK - you haven't been the best guest, but my family doesn't care about that sort of thing. They're really laid back. Like, seriously, I think they're all just happy to meet you. We all sort of thought you were dead, soo, we're not going to be judging your table manners." Margo kicked her legs, trying to stir up a breeze; even in her dress, the evening was far too warm. "You do look a bit weird, though," she admitted sheepishly. "In those clothes." Normal just didn't suit him.

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty suspected he and Margo had substantially different ideas of what it meant to be 'laid back,' but he appreciate her trying to assure him all the same. His father's family wasn't quite austere, but it wouldn't have taken a very forceful nudge to push them into that territory. The professor looked down at his clothes, agreement evident on his face; he'd have liked to have gone home and changed, but it was far too late for that, now. "I'd hoped they might help me fit in," he explained to Margo. "As it turns out, fitting in isn't my style." He sighed, wondering why he'd gone to so much effort to ensure the family would like him when he was an advocate of individuality. He was nothing more than a hypocrite. Looking up at the Ravenclaw, he smiled. "Thank you, Margo. I expect they're missing you inside. Why don't you go on in? I'll be back in a minute or two."

 

[Margo Ellis]

Had Professor Pendleton really gone to all that effort just to make her family like him? He really needn't have bothered; now that she'd seen him in this new light, Margo decided he was one of the best professors she had, and she knew her family would adore him, too, if only he'd open up to them. "You should just be yourself, Sir," she said. "I mean, I was a bit scared of you, at first, but that was silly. You're not bad, actually." Margo grinned. Hearing her cue to leave, Margo nodded and hopped down from the wall. "You can stay out here as long as you like," she assured him. "Nobody minds. I'll just tell them you needed some air. Oh - and when you come back in, slam the door really hard, or it won't shut properly. Bye, Sir." With that, Margo turned on her heel and headed back into the house, feeling somehow older and more mature than she'd been just five minutes ago. Maybe this was what growing up felt like.

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty tilted his head, yet again surprised by the wisdom that left Margo's mouth. He wasn't pleased to hear he'd accidentally scared her, and he wanted to ask how, so that he could avoid scaring anybody else, but it didn't seem right to mention it. Instead, he he gave the Ravenclaw a grateful smile. "Thank you, Margo," he said. And then she was gone, leaving him to reflect on their bizarre but pleasant encounter. Eventually, after five minutes or so, he returned inside to join his family again; and though he still did not feel as if he belonged among them, for some reason, he no longer minded.

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FIN​

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