October 3rd, 1888 — Department of Magical Games & Sports

As she made her way down the narrow corridor, the article in question was clutched in her hand as if she were clinging to her very life. After reading it she had, of course, scoured her own office before remembering that she had destroyed the evidence, back when her foolish, love-drugged mind had feared Skeeter would not return her love. Merlin help her, if only that had been the case! This meant that the ball was, infuriatingly, in Skeeter's own court. It was bad enough that she needed his consent to restore things to the way they were, but now Maeve had to depend on his sentimentality having preserved the incriminating letter.

The letter granting her her freedom, and his too.

The redhead had not been to this office since the pair had disapparated to Gretna Green, and she did her best to shove aside the memories of what had transpired there as she shoved his way into his office.

"We're getting an annulment," she informed him bluntly, placing—well, all but slamming—the article down on his desktop. "Where is your letter? That and a couple of signatures, and we can put this misery behind us."

Try though she might, Maeve knew she would never quite clear her poor memory of the time they had shared together, but at least in legally detangling herself from the wizard, she could make a start of it.

  

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

Barnabas looked up with annoyance as she plopped the paper on top of the paperwork he'd been working on. She'd undoubtedly smeared the fresh ink he'd just put down on it.

"Good morning, wife," He said saltily as he read the article, knowing full well that the title would irritate her more than it did himself, "Missed you at breakfast this morning." This... this could be reversed? Oh thank Merlin and whatever forces of fate that had intervened in this! He was not destined to a life of misery and celibacy - arguably the same thing, in his opinion - like he'd thought. He just needed the evidence. But... where had he left it?

Barnabas rifled through the top drawer of his desk, "Of course I do. I'm not an idiot." After several moments of growing panic, he finally withdrew the pink envelope, the letter stuffed inside. He'd thought to toss it out, but something had told him to hang on to it. His manhood, probably, in case the situation was able to be rectified.

  

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She did her best to ignore his jibes—not an easy task, for one so fiery as Maeve. She knew, though, that she needed him on side for this. While she doubted that even spite would cause him to trap them both in such purgatory, she had never considered Skeeter to be a particularly useful man. She would not give him encouragement to behave in any way that was not strictly according to plan.

The seconds seemed to halt as he dug about for his letter, and when she saw the familiar, infamous pink envelope, the auror let out a breath she had not known she’d been holding. There it was, her golden ticket back to the way her life had been before. It was not the damage to her reputation that Maeve cared about—she would not be herself if it was—but the damage to her pride. She would bear these bruises for some time to come, but at least now, they could begin to heal.

“Good,” she offered tersely. “We’ll need to take it to the lawyers for them to dissolve this whole mess. We’re lucky not to have been the only ones affected—we might never have gotten out of it if we were.”

  

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

"I'm ending this fresh hell as swiftly as possible," Barnabas tucked the letter into his robe pocket for safe keeping and rose from his desk, cane in hand. He assumed she was in agreement on the matter. It would be the first and last time that they ever agreed on anything while not drugged with a love potion. He glanced at his dog dozing in the corner, "Queenie, stay." The small orange splotch watched them leave the room without a care in the world - not even so much as a wiggle of her docked tail - and went back to sleep.

He didn't speak as they moved toward the lift at the end of the hall. They'd have to ride five floors up to get to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Would she ride with him or be obnoxious and choose to wait until the empty lift returned for her? As the gate to the lift opened, he hesitated. A gentleman would allow a woman to enter the lift first. But this was Maeve, who hardly qualified as a woman. She didn't even wear a corset most days, something he'd discovered first hand... pun not intended. The thought brought a shameful heat to his cheeks and he chose to step inside at that moment.

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   Maeve Connolly

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As far as Maeve knew, this was the first time they had ever been on the same page. Merlin, it was probably the first time anyone as polarized as she and Barney Skeeter had ever been on the same page. For a moment, the redhead thought to make a sardonic comment to that effect, but decided there was little to be gained—and far too much to be lost—by testing her luck now when her freedom was all but secured.

They moved in silence to the lift, then upwards as it brought them closer and closer to their salvation. When the doors dinged and opened, she moved past her husband to lead the way. After all, this was the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Maeve’s domain.

She tried to ignore the chuckles of those they passed, but a bright red blush crept to her cheeks regardless of whether she wanted it to or not. How she loathed not having complete control over her own body!

Then both suddenly and after an eternity—time, it seemed, was no longer a sound measurement—they were seated before the lawyer, and Skeeter was handing over the envelope, and it was so close that Maeve could taste it.

The auror held her breath.

  

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

Finally, this hell would be over with and he could move on with his life like he'd planned. He leaned back in his chair with feigned ease as the lawyer reviewed the letter. Already, Barnabas was thinking of how joyous it would be to return to his townhouse and sleep in his own bed. He'd have to have his housekeeper wash the sheets first. The idea that his bed might still smell like her made his stomach churn.

The lawyer's face wasn't one of confident reassurance. It was one of alarm. Concern. Amusement. "This is not the offending letter," He said and passed it back over the desk so that they could see for themselves. Without looking at it, Barnabas argued back, "What do you mean it isn't? Of course it is." He snatched the letter from the desk so that he could read it properly. He recognized it immediately with a sense of dread. This had been written by Barnabas' own hand one of the evenings he'd drank too much whiskey and had sent out ridiculous love poems to several women. How it had gotten into his desk and inside this envelope was something he had no answers for.

He let out a string of curse words not meant for the fairer sex's ears - his wife not included.

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   Maeve Connolly

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Maeve suddenly felt very, very cold, her mouth falling into an expression of disbelief. All Skeeter had had to do was show the nice man the love poem and sign a paper and then they could get back to (almost) never seeing each other. It was a perfect, plan, an easy plan, and the idiot had gone and bungled it!

She echoed her husband's courser sentiments.

  

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

While Maeve had gone cold and pale, Barnabas had gone hot and red. This couldn't be. He couldn't be married to Maeve forever. This was his way out! This was his chance at normalcy and finding a real wife!

"Surely, something can be done," He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, "Surely there is something, anything that can remedy this. We were victims of a crime, sir." A crime that many others may have found entertaining, but most certainly not himself - and if he could be judge, he did not think Maeve found it amusing either.

The man steepled his hands together and leaned back in his chair, the glint of amusement still in his eye, "Unfortunately, without proof that you were operating under the illegal influence of amortentia, an annulment cannot be granted. If you are desperate to dissolve your union, I would suggest considering a legal divorce." The implications of the negative effect that would have on them both was left unsaid. He'd be a laughing stock - to say nothing of his reputation. His chances of marrying happily would be years away. And Maeve... her reputation was already poor. She likely would lose her position at the Ministry.

Barnabas had much less to lose than she. He looked at her expectantly.

  

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set by MJ | Kindly tag Prudence Browne in replies

Merlin, did she have to fix everything? His flaccid look said it all: he could do nothing here, and it was now Maeve’s job to save them both from this hell. Fine.

If it took a woman, so be it.

“You’re too daft to be in the law if you believe I’d ever consent to marry this,” she gestured emphatically at the hobbled wizard beside her, her disdain for both men clear in her tone. “If we’d been under the Imperius curse, there would be none of this debating—this is no different. We were not in the least in our right minds, and should not remain married!”

“If we did it for you, we’d have to do it for every drunkard who’d wandered down the aisle,” the lawyer deadpanned in return, seemingly nonplussed by her less than flattering opinion of him.

Maeve reached for her wand, intent on turning the bastard into a goat.

  

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

Barnabas was torn between agreeing with her - he'd never have willfully married the likes of her - and being insulted at her utter disdain and disregard to even refer to him by name. His glare shifted from her to the lawyer in front of them. She had made a good point. Though amortentia was considered more innocent that the Imperius curse, surely the fact that they had been controlled would mean that they were still considered victims of a crime! His anger was revealed tenfold in Maeve, who was dangerously close to losing her temper.

This was good. They could use some muscle in this. Maeve was intimidating, despite her size. What was a lawyer against an auror - female or no?

Apparently nothing, as it would turn out. He seemed entirely unaffected by her outrage. If anger would not make him bend, then surely he could be motivated by something else. Maeve using her feminine wiles was out of the question. She had wiles, surely, but they were decidedly not feminine. Barnabas could offer him the next best thing: money.

The chair creaked as he leaned forward to address the man again, to offer him a bribe that would make it all worth it. He had a decent some stashed away in savings. Living as a frugal bachelor whilst being a department head certainly had its perks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his wife withdrawing her wand and he did the only thing that he could in that moment - he knocked the wand to the floor in reflexes that he'd been surprised he still had, "You're going to get us arrested!"

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   Maeve Connolly

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Her wand was on the floor.

Barney Skeeter had knocked it from her hands.

She stared at the man in disbelief before rising to her feet and leaving the office with a loud huff, stopping only to retrieve the felled wand.

  

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

Barnabas watched her reaction on high alert, fully ready to defend himself with whatever hex she would throw at him once she'd retrieved her wand. A hex did not come, but a scathing look that was equally as terrible did. Once she left, he relaxed into his chair with a sigh of relief. His eyes met with the lawyer's, "You're welcome, you bloody bastard."

  

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