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[tillyvance]

There was no doubt that Matilda and Thorfinn needed to spend a bit more time together before their upcoming nuptials. It had all seemed so sudden. her return and then the notice of her engagement. Matilda should have expected it, with her brother's death the parents would have had to establish their status somehow. Marrying off Matilda was the only option left.

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."

where: manor in spain who: @tillyvance

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.

[tillyvance]

Not many understood the intricacies of the Vance family, it seemed only those involved had a knack for navigating the choppy waters. Between the two brother’s disdain for one another and Matilda’s mother disregard for Emmeline, it was lucky that the three cousins grew to be close. Growing up, Matilda never understood the true reason behind the family fued, it was only as her exposure to the outside world grew that Tilly recognised the slight differences between the two women. Differences that Matilda never regarded as important enough to lose out on a relationship with her cousin. Matilda held Emmeline dear to her heart, and her parent’s opinion would never change that. Shedding her coat and placing it on a hook, Matilda made herself comfortable. Finding it particularly easy to slip into a position of comfort with her cousin.

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.

“Quite a lot…” Matilda agreed, smiling gratefully at the mention of tea. “How have you been? I’m sure London has been a lot more eventful than the country.”

Oh the familiarity of that statement. If the chance was given to hide something, sweep it under the rug and, even better, alter the perspective of everyone around then the Vance family would do it. How bizarre it was. Perhaps that was why she fit in so well with the other purebloods, even prior to the revelation. The Vances, purebloods that knew how to act like the sacred twenty eight without ever having been part of it. Well, as far as the brunette was aware of it. "Right. I'm not surprised, but then again, I've had my fair share of time dealing with that." A shrug as she offered a seat to her cousin, flick of a wand in the direction of the kitchen to set up water for tea.

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.

"Tea should be ready in a moment. We'll catch up. It's been a while after all." Something told her that this was a meeting between two souls that had carried their fair share of burden. "I'm much has happened in the past year." - @tillyvance

[tillyvance]

“You seem to have perfected the art of day drinking, isn’t that something?” She couldn’t help but laugh, her face transforming into a slight grimace at the man’s mention of tomato juice. “Somehow, straight vodka sounds more pleasant than a mixture of tomato and alcohol.”

“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.”

Antonin looked at the woman thinking if he could play on the vice she mentioned to convince her. “You could always combine the two, though people usually go for savory rather than sweet when it comes to breakfast drinking.  I’ve never really cared for tomato juice I’d rather take my vodka straight, and haven’t given into a hangover yet.  My parents would be ashamed if something so simple debilitated me.” He thought a moment before speaking on the subject of drinking again.  “Truly finding a drink for all times or specific times is a matter of trial and error as mood change quickly so too do desires even for something like food or alcohol or clothes though it’s harder to change outfits as often as one might wish.”

[tillyvance]

Getting back to work was a welcome breath of normality for Matilda. She felt at home in Madam Malkins, surrounded by sketches and the finest fabrics. Not to mention her colleagues had become some of her closest friends, surrounded by likeminded people and creative minds only spurred her own passion. Having been absent for a while, Matilda hadn’t quite been assigned any significant tasks yet, instead working on the more everyday tasks in the shop such as altering hems and repairing and renewing old fabrics. So when Agatha walked through the door, Matilda immediately set her current project to the side in anticipation.

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.

A letter had come her way, one that she couldn't deny she had eagerly expecting. Whatever was to come out of it, she couldn't know just yet, but that didn't mean her hopes weren't up. The undeniable truth was that Emir and her had been reconnecting as of lately, the witch finding it delightfully easy to be around him, to feel that things between them might still be-- even after all these years. Obviously she hadn't shared these thoughts with anyone other than Narcissa so far, not even daring to speak to Alara about it. But one thing was for sure, she needed a gown, a special one.

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."

[tillyvance]

“Caring,” Her tone mocking, paired with a snort, care, is that what this faux concern was meant to indicate? Was this how muggleborns got what they wanted? Act concerned until they got close enough to harm. A year ago, Matilda would have entertained it, but back then she was a fool, untainted by the war and the terror in its midst. Flicking her hair behind her shoulder, Matilda tilted her head upwards. Looking past Lily with disdain. “Forgive me, but I don’t believe your intentions are caring. Nor do I require any sympathy from you.”

Lily didn’t understand the hardened expression on Matilda’s face as she turned to her. She racked her brain, wondering what she could have possibly done to deserve such a response, but came up blank. Had she offended her in some way? She had always done her best to be warm and kind to everyone she came across, there was hardly a negative bone in Lily’s body. But something had changed. Was this what her brother’s death had done to her?

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.

[tillyvance]

It could have been much worse, Matilda reckoned. She could have been betrothed to somebody who longed for nothing more than to spend hours entertaining a crowd. Perhaps a few years ago, she also would've enjoyed the ceremony. But having only just returned to London, Matilda wanted to ease herself in before becoming a spectacle. Clearly, her parents had different plans.

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."

Thorfinn glances over his shoulder to the doorway that led back inside. The thought of going back inside to deal with mindless conversation gave him a headache. His attention turns back to his future wife. "We will, but I'm fine pushing it off a little longer." They would already have to deal with the dinner between the two families ot celebrate this union.

"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.

[tillyvance]

Matilda was grateful that Rabastan was so welcoming. Being raised in a society where formalities were pushed upon you meant that arriving unannounced was more of a hindrance than a welcome surprise. “I appreciate it. Fuss is not my style.” Matilda agreed with a chuckle. Although she was well aware that she wouldn’t make a habit of arriving unannounced.

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?”

"You are always welcome, announced or not," he told her seriously, though he curtly laughed before continuing. "And I dislike fuss. It would have caused nothing of the sort. I simply would have made the arrangements, and that would have been that."

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."

[tillyvance]

"Emmeline is my cousin," Matilda confirmed with a nod, the man in front of her must be one of Emmeline's friends or at least an acquaintance. Antonin Dolohov , Matilda recalled from his earlier objections to the door being closed. In that moment, she made a mental note to ask her cousin about him. Dolohov was a name she had heard of, of course.

"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.”

"Logic has nothing to do with it, but perhaps I'll let the door stay closed for now." Antonin looked at her as the words ran through his mind. "Are you of any relation to Emmeline Vance?" He looked at her hand unscarred. The wheels slowly clicked in his mind. Was he being mocked or would he be in on the joke. He let his smile slowly shape into something more presentable like pressing a set of clothes.

“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?”

[tillyvance]

Matilda breathed a sigh of relief upon the realisation that Thorfinn wasn't coming to fetch her back for another round of tedious conversation. The ring was just about on her finger and suddenly, her afternoon had been spent discussing centrepieces, dresses and venues.

"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."

If he had to have another conversation congratulating him on his engagement, there was a high chance he was going to hex them, and he could only imagine what Matilda was going through. He was not one to intrude but when he saw her go outside, he couldn't help but follow behind her. Thorfinn wanted to make sure she was okay.

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."

[tillyvance]

Matilda felt utterly out of sorts, a betrothal had landed at her feet with barely any notice and just a matter of days before a spectacle of a wedding. She should have suspected something was afoot when her parents requested her return. Sure, Matilda may have been preparing for a betrothal since her graduation, but that didn't mean she didn't deserve a bit of a warning. Distancing herself from the crowd, Matilda headed to the bar. She was debating ordering herself a drink when a familiar voice broke through the crowd. Matilda recognised the other woman as Athena Greengrass. Pulling a tight smile, Matilda nodded. "It seems so.."

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

where: zabini/travers wedding who: @tillyvance

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?"

[tillyvance]

Her shoulders tensed, a conversation that once would have carried itself with ease, now felt stifling. Matilda once would have turned a blind eye to Lily Evans and her kind, deeming them harmless albeit pitiful. Now? She recognised the real danger. Fake niceties would not distract Matilda from the hard truth. She would not allow herself to come to Christopher's fate.

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?"

Lily had been telling herself for days that she needed to make it to Madam Malkin's. She was in desperate need of a few new robes, as well as mending on the ones she had. It was difficult to keep her work robes in good condition when the war had her in the middle of conflict far too often. The amount of holes and burns on her robes seemed almost impossible. Alas, as was always her luck, a mission had kept her working late. Still, after she had wrapped things up she rushed for the shop, hoping maybe to catch them before they closed.

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?"

[tillyvance]

Rabastan had been one of Christopher's closest friends, before Matilda had tended to look at Rabastan as one of her brother's friends. Ever since his passing, Rabastan had become a great friend to Matilda. And in her absence, he had been her eyes and ears into London and the recent happenings. Perhaps Matilda's penmanship had been slightly lackadaisical during her retreat, and at first she had been embarrassed that she allowed her grief to spill itself onto pages and be sent to another living soul. But Rabastan understood the height of loss, and as correspondence continued, her grief became diluted. Of course, faint memories propped up every now and then but she appreciated the change in conversation, Rabastan was her foot in the door in not becoming wholly disconnected from their world. Without his updates, Matilda was not quite sure that she would have been able to return to their society with such ease.

"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.

"I wanted to thank you, for writing me." Matilda acknowledged, a vulnerability that Matilda tended to have difficulty with, but it was genuine. "You were a friend to Christopher, and I know he would have be eternally grateful for how you've been a friend to me." A sentence that before, would have devastated Matilda to speak aloud now seemed as easy as taking a breath. Reaching into her bag to bring out the wrapped pocketwatch. "I brought you something, call it a small token of thanks."

Rabastan was not easily affected by death. It was part of life. He observed it logically, and in the course of his darker duties it had become nothing but a standard process. Watching the light leave dying eyes brought him neither joy nor sorrow, but merely the cold recognition of a job complete. Yet every now and again, he was struck by certain losses. Christopher's passing had been one such rare occurrence. The news had thrown him. The knowledge that he would never see his friend again, that he had been robbed of his good nature and company, weighed upon him like a knife in the back. He dealt with the grief in the only way he knew; by channelling it into a rage that consumed him. Throwing himself more fiercely than ever into his work, he ignored all else until he'd calmed enough to turn his thoughts to Christopher's family, and in particular the sister he'd so dearly loved.

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?"

Moving to pour himself something alcoholic, he watched Matilda discreetly. Her absence had concerned him. He was pleased to find her looking well, and he hoped her apparent health was more than skin deep.

[tillyvance]

who : @thorfinnrowlex

where : the zabini wedding

Was this the intention of her return? To be paraded around as the future Rowle matriarch? It could have been worse, he was handsome at least. Matilda just had to hope that he wasn't entirely useless, she'd hoped that her parents had done some research beforehand. Nothing seemed darker than a lifetime of tedious conversation. So far, it wasn't going terrible. But still, Matilda couldn't focus on anything other than the pit of dread in her stomach, this was her first party since returning.

She just needed a touch of air, a moment of quiet, before returning to the prowling eyes. Matilda had only begun to feel her shoulders relax when she heard footsteps in the courtyard. Trying to avoid an audible groan at the sight of Thorfinn.

"Tell me that you aren't coming to fetch me for yet another conversation about our engagement. I've been paraded around that room countless times already."

[tillyvance]

"It seems that one doesn't quite adhere to your logic." Matilda pondered, tilting her head slightly to look at the man. Scanning him from head to toe in a brief second. "Perhaps," She shrugged, the man looked around the same age as her brother, perhaps there paths had crossed before but Matilda couldn't recall when. Her mind was far too scattered at Christopher's funeral to remember every passerby, "Matilda Vance."

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.

“No door is closed to Antonin Dolohov.  I simply choose not to open it.  Just like one can never have enough assuming they can hold their drink.”  He looked at the drink in the woman’s hand then to her almost familiar face.  “Don’t I know you?”  He curled an eyebrow while he fished out a flask, swirling it, making a face at the smell then drinking from it anyway, one nip then two before putting it away. He wore a smart dueling costume which somehow, likely magic was far less disheveled than the man who wore it.  His lips curled as he smiled the smile of the drunk, but there was no further evidence of intoxication on his face. “Seems like you could use a nip yourself, but this is all spoken for top shelf taken personally from the Malfoy estate at great personal expense.  Not to me of course, but I’m sure they paid very dearly for it.”

[tillyvance]

who : @xantoninxdolohovx

where: outside the white wyvern

Matilda found Sunday mornings particularly blissful, she had gotten into a habit of spending her Sundays on a stroll while visiting relatives in the country. What had started as an attempt to get out of the house and far from a mundane breakfast conversation had became quite therapeutic. Something to clear her head and give her a bit of clarity for the week ahead. She was determined to upkeep this habit upon her return to London, and so far, it had been successful. Besides, with a flat near hogsmeade, it meant her walks could be accompanied with a earl grey tea from Madame Puddifoots. This only elevated the experience.

A takeaway cup in hand, her peace was somewhat disturbed by somebody pulling at a handle of the White Wyvern, much to little success. "Typically, when a door doesn't open, the establishment is usually closed." Matilda chirped up, amused by the actions. "Besides, it doesn't look like you need anymore."

[tillyvance]

Matilda echoed a small laugh at her cousin's expression of not having to announce herself. It seemed to be all Matilda had been practicing for the past few weeks, and upon her impromptu return home, her parent's seemed particular about how Matilda's return to London would be announced without too much speculation. That seemed typical for the Vance family. To keep as much under wraps as possible. Matilda was aware that Emmeline had also faced the brunt of those actions. "Emmeline, we are both well aware of my mother. She seemed to prep a script to tie up my departure in a perfectly neat bow." A weak joke, accompanied by an even weaker smile.

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.

"To catch up, of course." There was nobody that Matilda wanted to connect with more than Emmeline, "There is no urgency..but I would particularly like to hear about your year. The countryside doesn't offer much conversation."

It was always a shock to realize just how much time had gone by in nothing more than the blink of an eye. Or, at the very least, it felt that way. The moment Emmeline opened the door to find herself face to face with her cousin Matilda, the witch realized that months had gone by, and she hadn’t even noticed it. Life had been hectic, an ever-lasting flow of matters that needed attending or solving, curses that needed lifting and of course, the downward spiral of other matters the young woman would have rather avoided. Truth be told, Tilly may have been the one blessing amongst the many curses. “Tilly. You don’t have to announce yourself; you know?” Though it would have been nice to have been aware of her cousin’s arrival.

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.

For a moment she allowed silence to settle, offering the other the space to speak. All the while her own mind drifting. Did the other know of the news? No, that didn’t matter right now. “You said you hoped I had a bit of time. What’s that about? Did something happen I should know of?” Was it something with the family? - @tillyvance

[tillyvance]

who: @lilyxjxevans

where : diagon alley

Her wand tapped at the shutter of Madame Malkins, sealing it shut for the evening. She had worked particularly late, hopeful to avoid hours of solitude in her apartment that seemed particularly cold since her return. Placing her wand back in her bag, Matilda begun to head up Diagon Alley, choosing to floo rather than to apparate. Simply to take up a bit more time.

A familiar flurry of red hair seemed to edge closer to Matilda. A sinking feeling overtaking her. Her first encounter with Lily, her former friend who sometimes had requested Matilda's assistance with stitching and repairs. Lily was not Matilda's close friend, but there was a warmth between the pair in conversation. Of course, that was prior until Lily's kind depicted their true colours to Matilda. Aiming to avoid the other woman's presence, her pace increase and her head held high. Matilda had all intention of ignoring Lily Evans. Until a voice beckoning her attention made her stomach drop.

Matilda froze in her tracks, glancing at the other woman. "Lily." Her tone curt, "The shop is closed for the evening. I can't help you."