October 12th, 1888 — Ministry of Magic Offices, the Lift

He'd been married for two weeks and of course, everything had gone to hell in a hand-basket. Barnabas hadn't been surprised when he'd finally recovered from his amortentia-stupor, but his wife had decided to hold a grudge instead of make the best of things. He'd been kicked out of their marital bed and forced to sleep in a separate room - in a home that she shared with her entire family no less! This matter of dispute wasn't even private between them. Her entire family knew and it was highly likely that word had traveled fast. He'd been getting side-eyes from his colleagues all week. Everyday there was a snicker behind his back. Thus far, none had actually had the gumption to tease him to his face. Likely it was due to fear of Maeve's wrath (the damned woman refused to call herself a Skeeter, even though that's what she was) rather than fear of Barnabas' reaction.

Annulment wasn't an option thanks to her (besides, they'd lain together so he couldn't very well leave in case she was with child) and he hadn't quite gone so far as to think about the consequences of an outright divorce. He was stuck in this hellish life until she either came around and decided to be a proper wife, off herself and free him or run off like the wanton woman she was and allow him to live his life as he'd planned.

Crankier than ever, Barnabas entered the lift that morning with a scowl on his face. The lift stopped at the next floor and Barnabas shuffled to the side to make room. As luck would have it, the person was none other than his aunt. His face warmed and he struggled to meet her gaze.

"Good morning, Aunt Morwenna," He greeted stiffly, ready for the barrage of judgement and teasing that would undoubtedly befall him. He didn't blame her for it. If the situation had been reversed, he'd definitely have had a thing or two to say about it. That didn't mean that he liked having to deal with it.

  

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set by MJ | Kindly tag Prudence Browne in replies

Were it not for the sheer amount of people she had been forced to correct of the assumption that she was his mother Morwenna would have found the recent development in her family deeply entertaining. Barnabas has always been the least affectionate and most ambitious of her nephews and yet, probably the most like Max and therefore the most like her, so she couldn’t quite bring herself to be too critical towards the boy.

On the other hand she had never publically entered into a verbal war with a redhead only to later marry her, so she probably did have the upper hand morally.

“Good morning dear,” she greeted, her face a picture of neutrality, a skill honed to perfection through recent debates in the Wizengamot. It was marginally less difficult than trying not to spit in the eye of Lucius Lestrange.

“How’re thing?” She asked lightly, turning her head towards him as though she were expecting no less than an update on the liveliness of his dog and a vague mention of his mother’s health.

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   Aldous Crouch

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat

Well, this hadn't quite been what he'd expected. Perhaps she didn't know? Unlikely. Things went around fast at the Ministry. It was fueled by magic and gossip, much like the Pendergast School for Young Roses.

"As one would expect," He said guardedly. He'd meant for that to be all he'd say. That's what a gentleman would do. But this was his aunt, who had known him from childhood and likely had hoped he'd marry well - or be happy, at least. It gushed out of him as if propelled by an unnatural force. "When you've been hi-jinked into marrying a sham of a woman with the most horrendous disposition."

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   Benedict Sterling

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set by MJ | Kindly tag Prudence Browne in replies

Her lips twitched in amusement at the comment but Morwenna immediately felt what she was sure to be the first of many sparks of defensiveness towards young Miss- the newest Mrs Skeeter. She didn’t know her well, or very much at all really, but she had certainly noticed the young woman when she had vehemently opposed Barney’s ridiculous notions about duelling and she had heard from a number of her colleagues that the girl had a temper.

Morwenna liked her. Every description she had heard of Maeve Connolly prior to this had been entirely positive in her estimation and she was only sorry that the girl had married the least agreeable of Martha and Max’s children.

“I take it the honeymoon period is well and truly over then?”

Perhaps she ought to get to know Maeve better? At the very least she would love to hear what choice words the auror had about her new husband!

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   Benevolence Crouch

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat

"The honeymoon period went up in flames the moment the amortentia wore off." He was so consumed with his misery that he completely missed the dip in his aunt's sincerity. "The idiot's gone and lost her envelope so we can't even annul the bloody thing."

He'd thought maybe she'd come around to making the best of it. They were married after all and the only thing that would free them is a divorce - which likely would cause even more of a scandal. So much of one that she'd lose her perilously held position at the Ministry and he could kiss his dream of one day becoming Minister goodbye. Now they were in purgatory. Did he just move out and continue with his life without the hope of marrying happily and having legitimate children? If she wasn't going to come around, he certainly wasn't going to waste his life sleeping in his own room at her parents' house.

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   Elladora Black

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set by MJ | Kindly tag Prudence Browne in replies

Morwenna rolled her eyes scathingly, though she had to admit she felt a smattering of sympathy for them both; they were well and truly stuck, and without any affection on either side – according to a slightly hysterical Martha at least – it would likely make for an unbearable household. And if she had it right then they didn’t even have the benefit of solitude to help them reach an accord.

“Martha says you’ve moved in with her family.” She didn’t pass comment upon the Connolly’s familiar arrangement as much as she might have liked to. Partly because she didn’t wish to give her nephew the impression that she was especially on his side, but also because she had heard more than one person in the Ministry muttering about their traditions being typical of Fenians and Morwenna had soundly rebuked each and every one of those people. She did so hate to be seen as contradictory with her opinion.

“I hope you haven’t been so critical of your bride in front of any of them?”

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   Prudence Browne

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat

Had he been so critical of her in front of her family? He couldn't quite recall. They had had some public skirmishes, but surely she'd been just as scathing as he had - if not more so. If he'd said anything remotely cruel, it had 100% been Maeve's fault for provoking him. She knew just what to do to draw his ire, no matter where they were or whom was present.

His arms crossed over his chest defensively, leaving his cane propped up against the back wall of the lift, "I've been the perfect gentleman, no need to worry about my manners. Albeit, the living arrangement is most uncomfortable. They've put me in my own room until I can the situation sorted out." He didn't mention that he'd chosen not to return to his townhouse yet for the sole reason of irritating Maeve.

  

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set by MJ | Kindly tag Prudence Browne in replies

“I’m glad to hear you’re behaving yourself,” she said in her most auntly tone, as though she was congratulating him on getting through a term at school without receiving a detention. Honestly, it was all she could manage not to ask whether the overall speed of their relationship meant the family ought to expect an addition soon – she doubted he would see the funny side of the potion-related haste.

But Merlin, what if they were? From what she had heard the potion had been all-consuming so she was relatively sure that the two of them would have, well, done some consuming of their own. She couldn’t prevent a bark of laughter, but she forced herself to cough at the same time in what she considered a fair attempt at covering it.

“I can’t imagine living in such a communal way again, I don’t envy you that,” she added, it being the most sympathetic thing she could honestly say, although hers was less an issue of personality and more that once a month she might eat her mother-in-law.

  

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat

Her cough was met with vague concern. Had she taken ill? She worked with magical creatures and she was getting on in age. There were plenty of diseases that she could catch. Dragonpox, for one, though a cure had been found for it and it was not nearly as serious as it had once been. She was older and thus, more susceptible to it. The cough was gone as suddenly as it had come. He surveyed her as she spoke, but all seemed well. She wasn't about to keel over in the lift. He didn't need to worry about being found with his aunt's lifeless body when the doors opened.

"Some traditions are ridiculous to continue to observe," He said in grim agreement, "And now I'm stuck with it until I can figure out a way out of this." Because surely, there was some way in which he could get out of this awful situation.

  

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set by MJ | Kindly tag Prudence Browne in replies

As sympathetic as she might be about his newfound living situation that did not excuse the fact that it was his own stupid fault he had found himself married in the first place. From what she had been told there had been any number of letters sent out and yet there were only a few reckless marriages as a result, one of which, she knew from Ministry gossip, had been between a couple that were all-but courting anyway.

Had there been something between him and the young Miss Connolly prior to the letter? Something other than the seething hatred she had assumed most young ladies felt after ten minutes with her nephew. Thank god Mason had more sense!

“Divorce is out of the question of course,” she said, less thoughtful of the social stigma than she was recalling the eleven years before Hogwarts when confession had been the highest form of magic she recognised. “You’ll just have to wait for one of you to die of old age I suppose,” she added grimly, chuckling to herself entirely at his expense.

  

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat

"A most delightful prospect, thank you Auntie," He said dryly, not at all amused by her tactlessness. Up until just now, he'd believed she was truly sympathetic to his plight. Instead, she was laughing at him. What kind of an aunt laughed at her nephew's entire life going up in flames? She wouldn't be this amused if Mason had been the one to find himself in such a situation. The lucky bastard was too busy with his nose in a pile of dirt and blustering about with obnoxious children to have ever been on the amortentia-criminal's radar.

One would think that she would have high hopes for her nephew. If not a marriage filled with love (even Barnabas knew he likely wouldn't get that) but a marriage that was secure, respectable, suitable... pleasant even, and would at least result in a child or two. With the rate things were going, he was going to die alone and childless with a paper wife and nothing else.

  

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set by MJ | Kindly tag Prudence Browne in replies

“Oh dear me,” she laughed, unable to stop herself in the face of his utter lack of amusement. It was definitely not the time to point it out to him but he reminded her more and more of Maxwell each and every time she saw him; all that pomposity and stiffness, such a marked contrast to the ease of his brothers. Were they not so like their mother then perhaps his likeness to his father would not be so notable?

“Cheer up, it’s not all doom and gloom. Miss Connolly might make life all the sweeter if you treat her as she deserves,” she said with a pointed look as the lift opened on her floor, fairly sure he had been truly awful to the girl thus far. True, she was equally sure Miss Connolly gave as good as she got but that was besides the point. "Just be a little kinder perhaps?"

She left him to dwell on the thought, almost entirely sure that he would do no such thing.

  

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MJ knows my soul rings to the rune of this iconic hat