#substitute~son

The latch sounded in the door as her guest arrived, someone she had been expecting for some time now.  She had brought out the hidden whiskey and bourbon, since Orion would be gone for the day.  She was not one to encourage overindulgence, but she suspected Evan would appreciate the gesture.  Walburga sat in a dress with intricate swirling bead-work around the bodice, one of her favorites that she had worn for good luck.  Kreacher ushered in Rosier as Walburga rose to greet him. 

“Evan, it is a pleasure to have you here.  You must excuse the mess, the house elves have been busy cleaning from the last gala and seemed to have neglected the house.”  Krecher muttered an apology, promising to punish himself and Scroffly in due course.  Walburga waved his protests away and dismissed him from the room.  Swooping back towards her seat, she gestured for Evan to join her.  

“I hope this wasn’t too much of an inconvenience for you.  I know you must be well busy with wedding plans.  Are you satisfied with your match?”  Walburga had never quite respected the Rosier family.  Druella was fine enough, adapting to the prestige of the Black name fairly well if you discounted her roving eyes, but the rest of her family were rather disappointing.  Evan himself seemed to understand the weight of his pureblood heritage, and rose to the occasion of his position as the head of the family.  The Black Family Matriarch didn’t quite trust the Burke girl, her family’s association with the Borgins and her flighty nature not befitting of a woman by Evan’s side.  

“Well, I’m sure you are dreadfully tired of talking about marriage anyway.  I know that I was in the weeks following the announcement of my wedding.”  She leaned forward, pouring herself a glass of bourbon.  “Care for a drink, darling?”