Gumming Up the Works
@ginnypctter
Astoria was far from a regular visitor at the home of Ginevra and Harry Potter -- although her son was, and it was on his behalf that she had come here today. Or perhaps behalf was the wrong word, since dear Scorpius had no idea of his mother’s intended visit, nor of its reasoning. But that reasoning, that impetus, was him, and it was thus for him that she had come -- for his own good, whether he knew it or not. Not much else could have compelled Astoria to step so far outside her comfort-zone as this quaint little cottage that was far, far too close to that awful Muggle village down the road. She couldn’t actually hear any of their noisy, careening cars, but she felt like she could; it made the hair on the back of her neck prickle and her stomach knot...or maybe that was just the fear of what she’d found.
Gathering her courage for both the setting and the conversation ahead, Astoria rapped on the front door and waited, hands clutched white-knuckled around the pearled handbag she had brought with her. When the door opened, Astoria’s shoulders sagged with relief and shivered with nerves simultaneously. “Oh good, you’re here,” she said as Ginny’s freckled face appeared in front of her, which was hardly an appropriate way to greet someone but Astoria wasn’t really feeling up to the usual dance of manners today. “I wanted to...that is, I had a question that...” She took a deep breath, made herself swallow. “There’s something I need to ask you. Please. If I may? About your...” Her voice trailed off and came back as a tight, taut whisper. “About our sons.”
