haunted

After their conversation at the wedding, it was evident that the two of them needed to get away for some time, to get to know each other. She had been gone for too long, the death of her brother still affecting her, and the last thing he wanted was to cause any issues. They were to marry and he wanted a marriage that would work, based on respect, loyalty and understanding.

It was the morning after their first night in Spain, waking to the rising sun, that he made his way out onto the balcony, enjoying what little was left of warmth of the year, sat with a mug of coffee. The night before was cordial, a little talking, and he was fine with that.

His head turned to the sound of footsteps, a smile on his face when she appeared. "Morning. Did you want something to drink?" There was a house elf that lived here, and he did bring his along to help with the chores whilst they were in the manor. "I can have breakfast made for you, if you are hungry." Thorfinn went to stand up, stepping around to pull one of the chairs out for her.

Still though, Matilda owed Thorfinn to give it a chance. So when the prospective of Spain was mentioned, Matilda willingly accepted. A bit of space and a new destination. It might be just what they needed.

Feeling recuperated, perhaps it was the rest or the morning sun but Matilda was in good spirits. Making her way to the balcony, she smiled softly as Thorfinn greeted her. "Morning, sleep well?" Taking the seat that Thorfinn pulled out. "I might take pancakes, and perhaps a mimosa. We are on holiday after all."

A good listener, Emmeline had always been that if nothing else. "And when have I ever bothered to see you as someone with a fragile state?" For a moment her eyes focused on a point beyond Matilda's shoulder, reminded of the time when the other witch had disappeared after what had happened to her brother. Where there once had been two people, now there was only one. A duo that had become a sole wanderer. "There's no love lost between your mother and I. She's never considered me her niece, and I never saw her as an aunt beyond the formality." Brutal honesty, among family this close it seemed to be okay. That, and the fact that her aunt could no longer see her as lesser than them.

In all her grief, Matilda couldn’t recall if she acknowledged any of Emmeline’s emotions. Emmeline was Christopher’s cousin, and the trio had spent a significant amount of time together growing up. At the mention of a fragile state, Matilda found herself glancing at her hands. “I think, it’s undeniable that I was in a bit of a fragile state. But I’m better, I think the bit of space worked wonders.” She found herself explaining, taking a breath. “Not that it mattered, my parents required me home…so here I am.” Leaning back in the armchair with a chuckle. A laugh that further deepened at Emmeline’s obvious disregard for her mother. “And here I was, thinking you two were the best of friends.” Matilda jested, tilting her head.

“Surely, you have a staple drink.” Matilda raised an eyebrow. Switching inbetween beverages sounded messy, “I quite like Prosecco,” Even with Prosecco’s reputation as a poor man’s champagne, Matilda was fond of it. Especially when a raspberry was added. “So you change drink dependant on mood? How thorough.”

The witch made her way to the North Side of Diagon Alley, walking into Madam Malkin's shop. She had hoped either Leta or Matilda would be there, the two were incredibly talented, and most importantly, knew what her style and taste were. "Tilly, dear." The brunette exclaimed with relief as she was greeted by the other witch, walking over to the counter and leaning forwards, a smile on her lips as she explained the reason behind her visit. "So glad to find you here because I need a gown. I have a dinner, a very important one indeed, and I could use your help if you could."

Standing up from her station, Matilda approached the other woman for a hug. It had been a while and Matilda had always been fond of Agatha. She always had impeccable taste. “A gown? Well, you’ve come to the right place.” She smiled, “what style of gown do you have in mind? What’s the occasion?” It seemed invasive but to capture the perfect dress for Agatha, Matilda had to know the setting.

She nearly flinched at how cold Matilda’s voice was. So different from the warmth they had once shared any time they had run into each other. She straightened at the question, feeing irritation rise within her at the insinuation. “I’ve always been this caring.” She corrected. “If I were nosy I believe there are far more intrusive questions to ask than simply asking how you are.” She understood Matilda may have been going through a tough time, but she refused to be talked down to all the same.

"Speaking of weddings." A hand places at the small of her back. "My mother informed me she has set up an appointment with Agatha. Do you want to be involved or do we want to leave it up to our mothers to handle it all." A beat. "I'm in your corner Tilly. I'm sure this isn't ideal for you, but I want to make you comfortable in it all." There was no denying the attraction in felt for the brunette, but the physicality part of their relationship rested solely on her.

She found herself easing into his touch, the discussion of wedding arrangements was at least something that peaked her interest. Having worked in Madame Malkins, Matilda was well-accustomed to witnessing mothers fussing over their children's wedding plans. Furrowing her brow, "No, I want to be involved." She clarified, "Agatha and I work well together, I have no doubt that our mothers can be convinced."

At Thorfinn's next comment, Matilda blinked, unaware of how to respond. Matilda had a tendency to look at life through a practical focus, it was fairly pedantic. "How are you in my corner? You have no idea what I want." She shook her head, "Currently, you are no more than a family friend who I've been advised to marry. If you want comfort , we will have to spend a bit more time getting to know each other. And certainly, a lot more time will have to be spent together before I believe you are truly in my corner."

Taking a breath, she softened slightly. "Let's go back inside and get this over with, and then we can take it from there."

God knew he'd had enough fuss of his own to handle, lately. Matilda knew some of it, but not all. She was one of the few people he'd told about his wedding before it happened, knowing she would not see the announcement in the Prophet, and that it would hurt her too deeply to hear the news from elsewhere. It had taken considerable effort to break from his cold stupor for long enough to send the owl. For two weeks, he'd shut out and shut down, unwilling to do anything except tend to Alecto's injuries and serve the Dark Lord when summoned. It had been an automatic method of self-preservation, fuelled by anger and the inability to process turns of event too dramatic for even his high threshold.

After informing the elf to send a pot of tea, he joined her in the comfortable chairs beside the fire. His home was not warm. But it was practical and had been enough for him as a bachelor. Now, he and Alecto were searching for somewhere more suited to a family. He refused to raise children so close to Muggles.

He had not expected her to express gratitude. It was unnecessary. Considering her with stern intensity, he spoke frankly but gently. "I would like to think we've become true friends. I wrote to you through my own pleasure. There is no need to thank me for it." Following the path of her fingers, he arched an eyebrow and accepted the package, casting her a briefly intrigued glance before unwrapping it. The sight of the item stirred unbidden emotions, and he exhaled slowly, sweeping his thumb across the cold metal. How often he had seen this in Christopher's possession. They had once discussed the runes and debated their meaning, amiably agreeing to disagree.

"I cannot accept this, Matilda," he said, though his eyes lingered on the object with a curious mixture of sadness and admiration. "It's too precious." Looking back up, he was glad to see the tea had arrived, appearing silently on a small table in front of them. He gestured to it. "Please, help yourself."

In the months of their correspondence, Matilda had enjoyed his updates of the recent goings on in their society. And in a position where Matilda felt so disconnected, she reckoned the pair had become close through their letters. And Matilda was overjoyed to hear of his recent nuptials, albeit a little surprised as the haste. But that, she reckoned was none of her business. Accepting the tea with a small smile at the elf, she lifted her tea cup, dropping in two sugar cubes and allowing the spoon to stir slowly.

“I know,” Matilda nodded, “but not many people took it upon themselves to write.” It was true, even some of her friends who Matilda held dearest hadn’t bothered to pick up a quill. She couldn’t blame them, her departure had been sudden and the explanation of her location had been discreet. Rabastan had become a friend to Matilda, he had begun as one of her older brothers closest friend checking in, to somebody that Tilly cared for. It was strange how life worked out. Watching carefully as Rabastan opened the parcel, taking in the pocket watch and examined the runes. “Christopher would have wanted you to have it.” Matilda explained, “you know how much he loved his runes.” She chuckled, feeling fondness for the time they had rather than anger at it being cut short. “Besides, what would I do with a pocket watch?”

Leaning back in the chair, Matilda lifted her teacup and took a sip. “So, tell me.” She raised an eyebrow, “how is married life treating you?”

“I’ve always found it best to dress as you want to be treated. Clothes are very important, but I think you might know that.” He remembered where he had seen her, he had been in Madame Malkin’s enough lately. “Doesn’t the fact that it is before noon make it even more tantalizing. You have never craved something the smallest bit taboo, a sweet before dinner perhaps?”

"I think we agree on that note," She nodded in acknowledgement, "People underestimate how fashion can influence a first impression.” Fashion had always been a passion of Matilda’s, there wasn’t many aspects of her life that she could control, but her style was always one of them. “A sweet before dinner, perhaps. Alcohol before noon? I might have to be convinced.”

He snorts. "I would rather be content if I did not have to partake in another conversation all night." The blonde moves to stand beside her. "You know we can leave whenever you want."

"Thank goodness, I thought you were coming to fetch me. " Smiling softly as Thorfinn came to stand beside her. "I reckon we'll have to get used to it, regardless of how monotonous it is. Everybody loves a wedding, it seems."

It was clearly wedding season, everyone around falling into the same pattern of either supposedly finding love or abiding to their parents' wishes. Athena wasn't exactly in the mood for weddings, considering she'd recently turned down the chance to have her very own, but that didn't mean she wasn't ready to drink herself out of the misery. Sitting by the bar, she'd chosen not to engage much, until a familiar face popped up beside her. Taking one big gulp from her glass of firewhisky, she put the glass down and turned towards the other witch with a polite nod of her head even though she felt like misbehaving rather than being polite. "I hear congratulations are in order?"

"There seems to be a bit of wedding fever in the air."

She could tell as she grew close that already she was too late, and with a sigh of frustration she took a moment to consider what her next option was. She supposed she could try to mend them herself? It was then she spotted a familiar figure walking away from her, not missing how her steps seemed quick. It took a moment to recognize Matilda, it had been a while since she had seen her and she had heard the reasons she'd left for some time. "Matilda?" She called, hoping to chat. They may have not been close, but she at least wanted to speak with her, to see how she was.

She picked up her own pace, hoping to catch up with her in case she hadn't heard her. She called her name once more as she got closer, though she stumbled to a halt at the response she received, the cold look on the other's features. She shook her head as Matilda mentioned the shop being close. "Th-that's alright. I wasn't going to ask you to make an exception or anything." She assured her, a frown on her lips. "I just wanted to say hello. See how you are?"

Matilda did not seek to rekindle any form of kindred conversation with Lily Evans. Perhaps, in the shop, she could look past it. Embark on basic conversation to find out her assignment. But for her own protection, as the two women stood outside Madame Malkins, she resigned to getting as far from Lily as possible.

"Hello." Matilda's tone cold, and matter of fact. "How I am? Have you always been this nosy?"

It was with a peculiar sense of responsibility that he'd remained in contact with Matilda. He didn't dwell on the logic. Simply, he chose to ensure she was as well as could be, through respect for Christopher's memory. Their correspondence had been regular and he had kept her informed of everything she wished. He had omitted much, too. There were some things that he could not share, and some personal details that he thought too trivial to divulge. The witch had enough burdens. She did not need updates on his tedious personal affairs.

So when she arrived, a lot had changed. He welcomed her readily, light-heartedly scolding her for not giving advance notice so that he could arrange for her to arrive by floo or apparition, instead of by doorstep like a common muggle or an unwanted visitor. "I'm well," he told her, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek, before showing her into the sitting room. "And I'm happy to see you. Would you like a drink?"

"Too much formality would have caused a fuss," Matilda waved him off, taking off her coat and passing it to Rabastan's house-elf. "Although, it is quite rude of me to arrive unannounced." She clarified. Grateful for the heat of the sitting room, after coming in from the changing of the seasons. "Good, I'm glad. It's very good to see you." Matilda smiled at the knowledge of Rabastan being well. Making herself slightly more comfortable by sitting on one of the armchairs.

For months, Matilda had dreaded returning to London, but it was becoming slightly more comforting as she reunited with friends. "A tea, please." A tame option, but she hadn't quite gotten a grasp of her emotions mixed with alcohol. It was better to be safe than sorry.

It was particularly early on a Sunday, establishments around Hogsmeade were only beginning to open their shutters. Matilda had been one of the first customers in Madame Puddifoots. "A nip? You're quite alright." Matilda couldn't help but chuckle, "It doesn't matter how high the shelf is when it's before noon." Eyes flickering to the bottle before returning to his face. "I'm surprised, you are far too well dressed to be both an attempted trespasser and a thief." Hoping the hint of humour in her voice was evident.

With a nod Emmeline stepped aside, allowing the other into the flat that very few others got to venture into. Well, still a place more people got to see than those she allowed within the confines of the manor. The manor in question had become a place recently avoided by the brunette. “How long have you been back to London?” There was almost a hint of warmth in her voice, slowing growing with each passing sentence. The type of tone reserved for the most part for those closest to her.

Stepping into Emmeline's flat, Matilda felt a wave of comfort. The warmth of her apartment welcomed her like an old friend, an appreciated heat when compared with the cold nip outside. Beginning to take off her scarf, Matilda's shoulders relaxed and tone brightened. Matilda had always been fond of her cousin, regardless of the tense relationship between their fathers. "A few days," Matilda clarified, "I wanted to tell you but I didn't want to spur any expectations incase it was still too much. A failed return would only cause further the whispers about my so-called fragile state." A statement that left a sour taste in her mouth, it was particularly unfair that grieving her brother was considered to be a weakness by the verdict of her parents.