blame on me .

WHAT I OWE:

CURRENT:

Date: July 2nd, 1979 Location: Macmillian/Greengrass Manor Tagging: @julienmacmillan​

It felt like so much had happened in the past two months, and Cordelia was feeling rather exhausted. From the explosion in Diagon Alley, reuniting with Julien after, and the two being brought to, and joining, The Order, then all of the training and things to go along with it… Well, it had been busy. Too busy, truly, and Cordelia wanted nothing more than to just go back to curling up with her fiancé and pretending the war wasn’t happening.

But obviously, they couldn’t just do that.

Having been thinking over the idea for awhile, Cordelia was sure of her choice, when yet another letter from her mother arrived that morning. She’d been out in the garden when the owl had brought it to her, and she sighed softly at it, taking it and tucking it into the pocket of her dress without reading it. Standing, she made her way towards where she knew Julien was.

“Jude?” She called out softly to him, “Do you have a moment?”

--

JOINING THE ORDER WAS NO EASY CHOICE. Julien had never been a fighter, unless you counted going after a fire-breathing dragon who was trying to protect her eggs a fight. He’d never been great with knowing the right time to react in battle when another person was on the other side of a wand. Still, he knew when to make a right choice; he knew when his wife needed to make that right choice. And, in the end, Julien would follow her until the end of time. 

He’d just put the wyrms to sleep when he heard Cordelia’s soft voice down the hall. “Shhh,” he said, carefully stepping up to her and putting his fingers to his lips. As quietly as he could, he closed the doors to his nursery behind him, before leading Delia down the hall and to their dining room. “First time they’ve been asleep all day.” He explained as he waved a hand and tea started pouring for them on the table.

“From the look in your eyes, I feel like this conversation might go well with a cuppa.”

Petra chuckled a bit and tilted her head. “Mm. Never got a chance to meet him, unfortunately, but she was enamored.” It felt so wonderful that she’d had chances nobody else had. “Thad and I decided while the girls were still in school that we’d give them a chance to properly date and have careers and such. I know I appreciated the opportunity to. I like to think that it was not having any of that over their heads that let them turn out so unique from each other.”

At his declaration of her being like a sibling, Petra couldn’t help the way she turned into the touch, pulling Julien into a hug. “I got closer to my siblings after, or I’d say the same. I’m looking forward to having you around for a long time this time around Julien.” She winked as she pulled back. She linked arms with him. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

The tattoo parlor was a little ways into Knockturn Alley. When they landed, Petra identified it quickly and rushed Julien in before they caught too many glances. While the shop had the same gloom as everywhere else, it was visibly clean and looked comfortable. Petra chatted with the artist a bit, introducing Julien. The man seemed very used to moral support coming along, although he did comment that a brother-in-law was an odd choice. But soon enough they were all settled and the artist got to work on her lower stomach. Petra winced occasionally, glancing up at Julien as she did so. “Sure I can’t talk you into anything? I’m sure Cordelia would find a niffler that runs around very funny.”

A small laugh followed those words, and he shrugged ever so slightly. “I suppose I know the feeling well,” Julien said, looking over at her with a wink. “But, I think it’s nice to know that in some variation of our futures, they’re allowed to make their own choices. That families change.” Then again, it was nice to know that, in the future, they were able to have those opportunities. Those options. Julien knew he was grateful for them himself, even if his opportunities were more out of reluctance and not knowing what to do with him. He was not like his older brother or younger sister. He was not dutiful, in any sense of the word. He felt as though he needed to help Cordelia, and now Petra, but it was because they were there for him. His family was never. 

“Ah, well, there we can both agree,” he grinned. “I would quite like a bit more time myself. I suppose I should steer clear of Diagon Alley on that day.” But, then they were off, and into Knockturn, into the very place that Julien had been when all of it had happened. He would never tell her, but it was one of the first times he’d been fully back in Diagon; the first time he’d walked down the cobblestone streets and into Knockturn. It was a strange feeling, but it felt less terrifying with Pet there.

During the summers and times away from Hogwarts, Severus Snape was often found in The Apothecary of Diagon Alley working his way up from apprentice to where he was now. Mostly, the main help as a practicing potioneer under the guidance of the shopkeeper, who mostly kept to himself or searched for ingredients. As Severus climbed the ladder to organize the brews on the top shelves, a familiar face appeared hough the window, down Diagon Alley. Julien Macmillan. A ghost to Severus - bringing him back into this new reality they had all been thrust into.

Getting down from the ladder, and adjusting his tunic, Severus blinked as Julien made his way into the shop. The kindness and aloofness was almost surprising. Not because it came from Julien - that much he expected - but because hardly anyone ever had that regard for Snape when they spoke to him. It nearly made him smile. Nearly. “Frost?” Severus echoed the word as Julien continued to described the situation. Puttering around the shop, Snape’s eyes glanced around until he found a thin, round, and bronze tin. The small laugh made Snape’s lip curl into a small smile, “This bitterroot balm should suffice. However, if you’re still getting burned…” his voice trailed as he lingered over one of the shelves and plucked a large vial, “a drop or two of murtlap essence would be beneficial. Simply combine the two and apply it to your hands before working with the creature.”

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Following the shopkeeper, Julien couldn’t help but notice just how happy the other man seemed to be with his potions. It was a nice change of pace, to see someone who actually cared about their profession. However, as soon as he thought it, a small chill ran down his spine. Bloody hell, he was starting to sound like his mother. A grin followed as he held out his hand for the ingredients, carefully inspecting them to make sure it would be enough. “Ah, perfect,” he said, holding it up to him. “I’ve put an ad in the paper for an assistant, and it seems they do not like getting frostbite. Or burns. Thank you for that.” 

The joke was small, but it was enough to say goodbye to. That was, of course, until he heard it. An explosion. Julien’s entire world felt as though it were spinning on a top. His eyes flickered to Severus’, but his mind was spinning, and before he knew it was sitting, crawling backwards on the floor and into a shelf of potions. Luckily for him, nothing fell, but he was unable to move, the panic setting in as he remembered the last time he was here. “No,” he whispered, hearing another crash come from outside. “No, please. Not again...” He trailed off, eyes frantically searching for anything that might ground him. And then he thought of her. Of his Cordelia, and he was looking at Severus Snape with all the apology he could muster. He couldn’t think of anything else now, though, and he was quickly on his feet, eyes searching the other’s face as he tried to formulate words, Cordelia at least keeping him from that place of panic. “I’m... I’m sorry. I just... I really need to find my wife.”

The world was chaos; absolute bloody chaos, and Julien quite preferred not even looking out the window at this point. Maybe that was cowardly of him, but he had his animals and Cordelia to look after, and it was a good way to keep his mind off the inevitable. It was why, then, that he had put the ad in the paper, and why he’d perked up when someone had actually answered. No one, in the past, was quite interested in his line of work, but seeing the McKinnon name on a piece of paper declaring her interest had him intrigued. So, he hired her. If it went south, it went south, but Julien didn’t have time to look for someone new.

Besides, she showed up on cleaning day. 

“Have you seen Willow?” he asked, wading around the water in thick overalls that also acted as a guard against any unwanted, er, Kelpie remains. “The little one. She likes to hide among the seaweed.” Marlene was behind him, being a good sport, which was a great sign of an assistant. Of course, she had a lot to learn, but that wasn’t something that had ever bothered him. If no one ever helped him, Julien would have remained in the library for the rest of his life. It was better to hop right in.  

Quiet for a moment, Cordelia watched Julien and felt her heart ache. She’d forgotten about the niffler being pregnant; it had been so long ago for her, and so much had been happening, that it had slipped her mind that it would be this year. But seeing Julien with it, and being reminded of their own child, it was an ache that felt worse than before. It was a joy too, of course, but an ache nonetheless.

His question had her wondering, though it wasn’t what she was focused on. “Perhaps?” She spoke faintly then, “If it’s happening at the same time, and the same way…” Though not everything had been the same this time, and that had her wondering too. Would it be the same? Could it be, after all this?

She held the paper close still, using it almost as an anchor, but relaxed at meeting Julien’s eyes and made her way over to sit in the seat. “Yes,” She spoke then, laying the paper out some so he could see, “According to Miss Skeeter, the Minister is dead. There’s also an article saying that the Ministry is going to make an announcement today, so then her article has to be correct… She seems to know what’s going on with that, at least.”

Taking a deep breath, Cordelia ran a hand through her hair, before adding, “I am worried. I… I have to tell you about my mother’s visit, Jude. What she said… What she asked of me.”

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

The shift in topic was almost painful to witness, and Julien could feel his stomach sinking even as Cordelia shifted it to the newspaper. He was never quite good at conflict, although he was always level-headed when it came to it. Battles, he supposed, were never his strongest suit. Not like his family members. But, then again, he had skill with a wand. At least comforting Cordelia came naturally, which was not something he’d ever expected. 

“The Minister is dead,” he repeated, almost numbly. That was a thought he hadn’t truly considered. Well, it had crossed his mind, but he figured he would really deal with it if it were to happen. Julien clucked his tongue and then looked at her. “Not to say you don’t care, but that isn’t what’s really bothering you, is it?” 

And there it was, the fear in her eyes, the way she held back when talking about her mother. Julien tucked some hair behind her ear and then met her eyes, knowing, almost, what she was about to say. He didn’t want her to say it; didn’t want to know what horrors her family had committed. Of course, his own wasn’t much better, but they had in the past stayed out of such matters. Luckily for him, his parents had never been pushy in that area. They didn’t understand Julien, and he didn’t understand them. It was easier, as long as he was fulfilling his duties, to keep them at arms length. 

Gently, he pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. “Whatever your mother asked of you, we will navigate together,” he said softly. “If you choose to go along with it or not. I’m here to support you.” He pulled back and met her eyes. “You know I’ve always... I’ve always found logic to be easier, and I admire that you always follow your heart. But in this case, I think you’ve got to listen to your head. What’s it telling you?”

The potions shop’ bell chimed as Julien stepped into the dingy shop. He always found his eyes having trouble adjusting in this place, but it was necessary, sometimes, to come when an animal was sick or similarly unwell. Today, he needed something for a new creature, his blue salamander, who he couldn’t touch without the help of frost gloves. Of course, he’d almost asked Cordelia to go for him, like he’d been doing, because of his fear of returning to Diagon Alley. But, he was brave today. For the first time in a long time, Julien felt as though he might be able to step out into the world.

Still, he was lost in his own thoughts, unable to stop himself upon bumping into none other than Severus Snape. “Just the man I’d like to see,” he said, managing what he hoped was a jolly green and not a sleep-deprived one. Bloody hell, he really needed an assistant. “Do you happen to have anything to help with frost? Particularly touching it. I’ve, uh, I’m working with a creature that’s impossible to pick up unless... Well, you get the point, I assume.” A small laugh followed, and he waited, anxiously, for Severus to point him in the right direction. 

When: April 1st, 1979 Where: Julien and Cordelia’s Home Who: @julienmacmillan​

Cordelia’s hands were shaking as she read over the paper. Rita’s column might be gossip, but she had so far been right, and very concerned about the Minister, at least. And, of course seeing that the Ministry was going to have an announcement that day too… well, then there was only one thing that could have happened. The Minister of Magic was dead. Which only made Cordelia even more fearful.

She’d been trying to ignore it as best she could. She had her husband back, and spending time with Julien, and with Petra, and with Floretta… it all made her forget almost that there was a war, that they were in danger, that she’d have to choose a side eventually. She had done well in ignoring her mother’s attempts at visits and the owls she’d tried to send, but this piece of news… this made everything that her mother had said and done even more real.

And she knew now that there was no more pretending. There would have to be a side picked, and she would have to finally tell Julien what her mother had said, what she’d done, and what her mother wanted her to do. Because, if she were truthful, her mother was scary and Cordelia was afraid of what she would do now, of the lengths she’d go to.

Folding the paper back up, Cordelia made her way out of the library and down the hall, towards where she knew Julien was. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the doorframe and then stepped in, a soft smile on her face as she saw him, and for a moment she hated that she’d have to tell him all of this, wishing they could just stay in their peaceful bubble.

“Jude?” She spoke softly then, “Can I speak with you for a moment about something?” She held the paper up a little, chewing on her lip.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

The niffler was pregnant.

Julien hadn’t forgotten she would get pregnant this year; hadn’t forgotten the babies that ran around the house like mice. He certainly hadn’t forgotten all the jewelry they’d stolen and the treasure trove he would be able to find much easier now that he had the help of the past to guide him. Still, he’d forgotten when, and now she was flopped over on the table, obviously pregnant and Julien, like before, was completely unprepared.

It was silly, maybe, to think of his own child. Their own child. How unprepared he was the first time around, and how he missed that feeling of uncertainty. He couldn’t help but feel that excitement now, as he tickled Daphne’s toe with his pinky finger and watched her wiggle back and forth with a sniffle. Jules heard Delia’s entrance but only just processed what she’d said as he reached into a bag full of cheese and held it out for his little friend.

“Little Daph here is five months until due,” he said, as way of greeting, watching as she hungrily took the cheese as if it were gold. “Do you think they’ll all be the same as last time?” A small smile came across his lips, but as he looked up at Delia, the smile slowly slipped away. By the worry in her eyes, there was something quite wrong.

Carefully tying up the cheese bag, Jules called a couple of stools over to the table in front of them, as well as a tea pot. “Cinder would you like green or black?” He asked, over his shoulder as he met Delia’s eyes, gently patting the seat in front of him as the tea poured. Cinder, bless her, asked for green, carefully wiping her hands free of the food she’d been preparing for their pregnant niffler friend. “The Prophe has you worried?” He asked, noticing the piece of paper in her hands. “More news on the Minister, then?”

Cordelia smiled lovingly at him as he sank back down, holding onto him and squeezing his hand gently. “I am,” She stated, grateful for his agreement, “And I promise you, my love, if anything changes, I’ll tell you at once and you can yell for the Healer as loudly as you want.” She grinned softly, teasing him just a little, hoping he would calm and not worry as much as he saw her joking with him.

Her heart ached slightly, however, when he said he wasn’t as strong as her. She knew it was meant to be a joke, but the thought of him not being strong, of him hurting, it tore at her heart and made her fearful. “Stubborn as always, of course,” She tried to tease him again lightly, nuzzling into him and just relaxing with him, closing her own eyes before his words made her snort and giggle.

“Poor Cinder, trying to feed any of them, I don’t think she knows what to do sometimes,” She chuckled out softly, “I’m sure she’ll be eager for us to return home, as soon as we can. I also think I’d prefer to be home resting in our own bed, instead of here.”

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

There was a tinge of madness in his tone, he knew, but after having this chance handed to him, he wasn’t about to throw it away. There were Healers on every corner, and still Julien didn’t feel safe. Would this be the rest of their lives? Would this fear and paranoia remain forever? He’d gone about most of his days a Macmillan, free of any worry or care. And while that was wonderful, he was realizing now how naive and utterly fanciful it felt.

And, if he were being truthful to himself, how he longed for it.

“I’m only stubborn when I’m absolutely correct,” he said, voice tinged with the softness of humor. It wasn’t entirely a joke, though, as Julien often found his stubbornness when he knew his opinion was the right one (a fact, as he’d known the word). Still, in this moment, he allowed her to relax. Allowed himself a moment of calm, as he settled beside her, gently playing with her fingers trapped within his own.

A small nod followed her request and he kissed her forehead. “Tomorrow,” he said, gently. “At least that’s what the Healers have said. We’ll visit Pet, and then go home. Cinder will, I’m sure, jump for joy at the sight of us.” At the mention of Petra, Julien looked over his shoulder to see a Healer going into her room down the hall. A deep breath followed and he kissed Delia’s head. “Speaking of, I’m going to go check on her now. If anything happens, just call for me, alright?” And with a quick kiss to her forehead, he hurried off down the hall, to see if the Healers had any updates on Petra’s condition.

Petra couldn’t help the way she burst out laughing at the comment about them. “Daphne would be. Tori would be absolutely scandalized. She was always so proper. She was dating the Malfoys’ son, last I remember of that time.” Despite her grin, there was a sadness to her expression.

She looked at the animals in front of her so that she didn’t have to meet Julien’s eyes for a moment. “You know, it’s…strange, how I assumed that it would just happen like it had before. I was sort of looking forward to them being babies again, as if it was a sure thing.” She chuckled again, humorlessly this time. She looked up, realizing how her words could be taken. “Don’t start with the guilt, alright? It was just reflexes and chance. And I’d still save Cordelia again if I had the chance. You all are family to me, and not just my marriage.”

“The Malfoy’s son,” Julien repeated, a small smile forming on his face at the thought of Pet’s daughters; growing, falling in love. “They sound rather opposite, in the best of ways. I would’ve loved to have met them.” And while he felt a bit melancholy, the words weren’t hinged with the same sadness. Longing, rather. Joy for Pet, that she was able to live that life.

Edgar tried to smile at Julien’s supportive joke ––– he really did ––– especially when he didn’t try to push or pry the subject of Victoria any further, but, unfortunately, it came off as more of a pained grimace. “I appreciate it,” he rumbled softly, “but it’s fine. I’ll figure it out,” a lie, “so you really don’t need to worry about little old me, yeah?” 

It might have sounded a bit off, but honestly, for a long time, he hadn’t thought he’d see his friend so utterly besotted, either. From the time the two had first met, Julien’s biggest and only love had been the myriad of creatures their world had to offer. If nothing else, Edgar had always pictured him marrying his work. Not to mention that, for the longest while, him and Cordelia didn’t get along at all. Rowena, love sure was bloody fucking weird sometimes. “I’d say we deserve some good things in all this weirdness, don’t you?” It’d be a reprieve, that was for sure. “And oh, Felix and Amelia are fine. We’re ––– well, we’re kind of sticking close to each other ( or more like they were sticking close to him, he’d noticed ), after everything. But we’re good. They’re good. What about yours?” 

Scribbling in his little notebook, Edgar made sure to include everything he’d need to get Julien’s request down to the letter. “I get it,” he replied absentmindedly. “I think it’s sweet. And also very you. She’d be nuts to say no.” 

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

It wasn’t like Julien to really worry, not in the slightest. He assumed most people took care of themselves, and reserved his worry for his own short-comings, and for Delia who he found himself worrying about more than not these days. Still, when Edgar said not to worry, a little bug told him he might need to be even more so worried. “All I’m saying, is if you need me, you know I’ll be to your door in a second,” he said, shrugging. “I’ll even bring Jackie to cheer you up.” His niffler was a sweet little thing, even if a bit annoying at times. 

A soft smile followed at the mention of Edgar’s family, though. Amelia and her strength. Felix and his charm. They were always a trio, the Bones, and a part of him was glad that he’d never been around to see them ripped apart. Of course, he was more thankful to be here now. Given this second chance. At least if Vic was going to be a right pain in the arse, Eddie had his siblings. “Like glue, as the muggles say,” Julien said, shrugging ever so slightly. “But you three were always like that. It was hard to find you without Amelia stuck to your side.” That much, at least, was true. 

At the mention of his family, Julien shook his head. “No,” he said, honestly. “I mean, I don’t know what they’re up to, and I’m afraid to find out. Quite frankly, I’m certain they turned to a certain dark side after I was gone, and I don’t... I’m not ready to face that.” He nodded his head ever so slightly, looking down at his fingers as they tapped on the table. It was impossible not to smile, at the thought of Del, and so he was, smiling softly, despite himself. “Well, I wouldn’t be able to do it without you, anyways. We make quite the team.”

Petra licked her lips nervously, not fully sure how to explain. It hurt to explain, but she knew that she needed to. “I…before. After you died, I had two girls. Since that’s not happening this time around, I want to get something for them. Also to cover the scars on my stomach, but that’s secondary.” She looked at the graphorns instead of Julien, unable to meet his eyes. She hated being this vulnerable.

She pulled a piece of parchment out of her pocket, where there was a sketch of the tattoo from the artist already. “Their initials. ‘D.C.’ in laurel for Daphne Colette and ‘A.A.’ from hawk feathers for Astoria Anthea.” Petra took a few settling breaths before she continued. “I couldn’t tell him it’s for them, obviously. It would…it would be good to have someone else there who knows they existed, at least.”

Julien paused as Petra spoke, wiping his hands on his trousers as he listened to her story. With a small pang, Julien realized just how much he missed in her life; how much he’d lost in that space between. Still, his heart hurt for her, and he played with his fingers, knowing that his sympathy wasn’t necessary. Petra wasn’t telling him her story for his pity. 

Cordelia shook her head quickly, though she was sure that wasn’t exactly going to help. Still, she held onto Julien, not wanting him to move away at all. “No, Jude, I’m fine. I promise, okay?” She reached up to stroke his cheek gently, smiling as he snuggled back into her. Truthfully, it was just a dull ache that she was sure from where she’d been waking up, and it was going away quickly.

Her heart sank, however, as Julien spoke and she moved her hand to his, squeezing it tightly. “You don’t need to worry right now, my love,” She said gently, “And I know what you mean. I didn’t think I would be able to live without you either, but I had people there, just as you would. You are just as strong and stubborn as I am, you know.” She kissed him again tenderly, “But right now, we don’t have to worry, we can rest, yes?”

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

The promise was enough to have him settle back down beside her, although, of course, his mind was still at sea. Julien didn’t know how to keep this worry down, and it was a new feeling. He was never one to be quite so over the top in his worry; never the one to be overprotective. Julien liked space, and allowed others to have it as well. He found this newfound fear and cautiousness, to be rather annoying, but he hoped she wouldn’t mind. “You’re alright,” he nodded, agreeing and kissing her head. “But if anything... if you’re not feeling alright we call the Healer, alright?”

A deep breath followed her words, knowing they were right. And still. He felt the anxiety gnawing his stomach; weighing down his chest. No longer could he live in the dark, he realized, with a start. If he were to survive this war, Julien knew he’d have to pick a side. Whether he wanted to or not. “Not quite as strong as you my love,” he said softly, meaning it to sound like a joke, but it was the truth. He kissed her head and closed his eyes for a moment. “I don’t know how to rest now, if I’m being honest. That, and I keep thinking of poor Cinder feeding the horklump its dinner.”

who: @julienmacmillan​ when: march 23

Petra had been out of the hospital for a few weeks now. She’d moved her things out of the flat slowly, saying goodbye to it for a second time. The previous evening, her team had thrown her a proper goodbye party. She’d gotten to talking to a few of her teammates about random things after the alcohol was flowing. In particular, she had a long conversation with their reserve seeker, a young man with a magical tattoo of a snitch that flew around his body. While she didn’t share her ideas with him, ideas still settled in her head.

The next afternoon, after her hangover had settled, she made her way to Julian’s place. After being directed by one if the house elves to where he was, she rapped her knuckles on the door. “Are you busy? ‘Cause I’m cashing in - I helped you with a scheme, not it’s your turn.” She winked and walked further into the room. Her smile faded a bit as she tried to figure out how to talk about this. “First off - a judgement on whether I’m being crazy or it’s just that our family won’t approve. I want to get a tattoo. I already found a good one on recommendation from my teammates and may have been owling with them about the design already.”

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

A month had passed since the terror of the Valentine’s day ball, and although the days had passed, Julien still didn’t feel quite safe. Nothing really had happened; no more attacks, no more disturbances. The Minister’s health was still in question, of course, but the Death Eaters, and the Order, had remained quiet. Thankfully. Julien didn’t think he could bear another minute of thought into those two groups, not after what they’d both had done; not after what had happened to Petra.

That morning, he’d been feeding the graphorns when he heard a careful knock on the door. His smile brightened at the sight of Pet, although his stomach still ached at what she’d done for them. “Nothing too pressing today,” he said, sighing. “Although in a few weeks I believe my newest Fwooper will be looking for a mate so...” He paused at her words, his own tumbling off as she mentioned a scheme. “I don’t think that’s mad at all,” he said, shaking his head and leaning against the wall, wiping his hands free of the remains. “I’ve always admired the art in them, although I’m rather too indecisive to get one myself. What were you thinking?”

He knew it would come up at some point, but even so, Julien’s outright mention of his wife’s whereabouts had Edgar’s shoulders tensing up, though he tried hard to hide it as to not give anything away to his friend’s keen gaze. “No. She hasn’t. Not yet.” And he wasn’t going to look for her, either. Not that he was going to tell Julien that ( or anyone, for that matter ). He knew how the other man would react, and he wasn’t at all in the mood or right headspace for the very pointless and concerned lecture he knew would follow. 

“Yeah, of course. Don’t mention it, Jul,” he said with a quick, dismissive wave of his hand, just glad for the change of conversation. “I know how moon-eyed you are for Cordelia. I’m happy to help you with this, you know? However I can.” And he truly meant that. If nothing else, seeing the blond so happy and excited was more than enough for him. 

Edgar nodded slightly as he reached out for the larkspur and held it gently in his hand ––– giving it a thorough look over. “No need to butter me up, you sod. I’m already doing it,” he teased with a small grin. “Though the sweet compliment really makes my heart flutter about.” He turned the flower over to catch all the different nuances of colors that Julien pointed out it him. “Hm. I just might need an extra day to get everything just right, but it’s definitely doable. That okay?” 

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Almost instantaneously, from the look on Edgar’s face, Julien knew he shouldn’t press. While he was lucky enough to have his Delia back with him, he couldn’t imagine the pain that Eddie was going through without Vic. A deep breath caught in his throat, and while he wanted to make his friend feel better, he knew better than to try and show pity. He wouldn’t want it right now either. “Right, well, if you need me to send a Nibbler after her, you say the word.” Vic did, after all, love jewelry. Was always wearing new earrings, every time he saw her. 

A snort followed his words, and he shook his head ever so slightly. “Can you imagine? Never thought I’d be this... bloody sappy over someone. But she’s...” A sigh followed, particularly dreamy and not so uncharacteristic that it would sound out of place. Still, for a long time, Julien thought it would just be him and his creatures for all time. “Anyways, I still appreciate it. I know with everything going on it can’t be the most important thing... How are your siblings, by the way?”

Julien’s smile followed Edgar’s words and he nodded ever so slightly. “I felt a little bit of sap couldn’t hurt in the end,” he teased. “And that sounds perfect. Truthfully, I Just wanted to get her something different from last time. Her old ring was my grandmother’s and it’s lovely but it’s not... I don’t know. It’s not right. She deserves something that’s hers this time around.” He shook his head. “Never thought I’d have to propose twice.”

“She is,” Cordelia agreed with a soft chuckle, “Always there to help. I think you’re right, she does seem like the pegasi.” She hummed softly, after him, just enjoying them being close, enjoying getting to do this. Merlin, how had she survived all those years without him? Sometimes she truly wondered how she’d managed, without him, without Petra, even will all of her plants and travels. “I think having a dinner for her would be a wonderful idea, even if she doesn’t know what it’s for,” She agreed then.

Julien’s words made her return the kiss just as deeply, lovingly. She felt she could go on for ages, waxing poetic about how much she loved him, and all the reasons why he deserved every bit of love possible. But right now she was more focused on kissing him and sending the love through that; later she would tell him all of the things she could.

The shock on his face at her next words, however, made her blush, turning a bright red and looking down a little. “I wasn’t in the wrong house,” She had to snort and laugh at him then, kissing him once more before she continued, “I didn’t think of it as being like a Gryffindor… Just that I had to do the right thing, because it had to end at some point, and after all I’d lost… I wanted to get rid of those who’d caused it.” Was revenge a Gryffindor trait, she wondered, or was it showing her family’s Slytherin background?

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There was something so small, so gentle, in planning their coming days. Before, Julien wouldn’t have thought twice about these little moments; would have kept moving about his day without lingering. How could he ever pass these moments up again? How could he take for granted the moments where they were able to be together, to plan, to live? It made his smile widen, if that were even possible, and he gently kissed he cheek. “We’ll have to find our best china, although I’m sure Pet wouldn’t mind either way,” he laughed. 

Still, the thought of Cordelia fighting, being a battle, made his stomach ache. He wondered what she’d choose now, now that they were back. If it were up to him, he’d remain here; he’d stay by her side and make sure Cordelia were safe. If that meant fighting with the Order, because she was fighting with the Order, than so be it. He would make it work. He’d always been rather poor at duelling, but his healing abilities might make him of some use.

The hardest part, maybe, was that she’d grown into a woman that he hadn’t gotten to know. That hurt, like a dull knife to the abdomen. Julien swallowed and pulled back, gently pushing some hair from her face as she spoke. “And I suppose those would be... those would be the Death Eaters?” His family, the Macmillans, of course had their own involvement with the dark group, but in his mind it was never quite as involved as the Greengrasses. He knew that marrying in, knew that they were involved in this darkness, but he chose to forget. Now, he supposed, he couldn’t. “That’s... Well, I can’t imagine that decision, and how you had to make it. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”