August 09th, 1888 — Umbridge Residence, London

Four evenings had passed since he'd learned that there was a very good possibility that he could be a father in a year's time, and now, on the fifth evening since, he was curled up in bed with February Lynch once again. He hadn't pressured her into doing anything, a silent acknowledgement that he planned to be more responsible until she confirmed she was pregnant or he procured a means of protection in the event that she wasn't.

His arms wrapped around her chemise-clad waist from behind, he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. There hadn't been much conversation since she arrived, but the silence was a comfortable sort—no expectations, no explanations.

"You feeling well?" he finally asked, reaching a hand up to brush her hair off her neck. "I've been worried about you—but I'm sure you're well aware of that by now."

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— set by MJ! —

If she were being honest, Febs felt marginally better after Sunday's dramatic upheaval. Better, but guilty as hell. It was hard though, she still wavered on what they could do, though now she knew leaving was not an option, as much as she still thought it was best. He was determined to prevent it and she didn't have the heart to fight him on it, not any more.

Half-asleep, planning on catching up from a horrible night's sleep last night, she snuggled back into him as she felt him kiss her shoulder. She only slept well in his bed now. Maybe it was the comfort of having him next to her, maybe she was just too tired by the time she got to stay again. She wasn't brave enough to try for this every night and on the nights she was in her own bed she tossed an turned, unable to get comfortable.

"Alright, just tired." She smiled sleepily. Astonishingly, she felt relatively normal. Maybe it was too early, maybe she was just lucky, but she remembered her mother complaining of morning sickness and extreme exhaustion when she'd been pregnant with October.  Most of her hoped that the reason that she wasn't having any symptoms was because she wasn't actually pregnant. With each passing day, approaching another whole week late, the hope was fading though.

That wasn't the only thing weighing on her mind though. Their confession-filled drama-fest had partially revealed why Edric didn't speak of his mother and though Febs knew it was a touchy subject, she was curious to hear the whole story. Rolling over to face him, she kissed his nose. "How about you, holding up alright?"

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Listening to the dullness and exhaustion in her voice, the guilt came washing back over him. It was apparent that her affection for him was not lost, but he feared that a part of her love for him had been replaced with resentment. She was always a fiery, independent sort of woman, and he feared that having her fate in the hands of a man—her love for him aside—might have broken a part of her that he'd grown to love.

He was afraid of losing his Febby, even if that meant replacing her a Mrs. February Umbridge who mindlessly tended to children while he was away. It was the sort of wife he always imagined he'd end up with, but he was sure it wasn't the type of wife she wanted to be. He remembered her writing about her dreams to visit a bookshop in a small French town; it was something she wouldn't get the chance to do in her youth if she had an unexpected child. He wanted her to become his wife by choice, on their time, without it being a necessity.

A smile crept onto his face as she pressed a kiss to her nose. He returned his gesture before he pressed his lips against her forehead. "More mentally exhausted than physically. Lots of paperwork today," he murmured. "On the bright side, I've learned to read messy penmanship rather quickly. You?"

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— set by MJ! —

Febs was all around exhausted, but she had to appear to be otherwise and so kept herself busy. Or at least mentally busy. If she wasn't, she started worrying and that led to unintentional crying fits and she hated being like that. Was being over-emotional a pregnancy symptom?

"That's a good life skill, I suppose." She chuckled. "I read through three giant volumes of old Norse traditions and customs for Fortuna's exhibit, took lots of notes, nothing terribly wild." It probably sounded boring to him, but she was actually really enjoying it. "It's fascinating though, I've learned quite a bit. I won't bore you with any details though." Febs had been one of the odd ones who had kind of enjoyed History of Magic, though she hadn't put much effort into it, so she hadn't done terribly well.

"Oh!" She perked up a little, remembering her last conversation with Lena. "My friend Marlena is going to catch up to me in animagus studies so we can do the rest together." Though that may get put on hold. Possibly indefinitely... Ugh. Well she was going to carry on until she couldn't at any rate. It was something she could look forward to and thankfully was able to put down and pick up again whenever she wanted.

Gently, she reached up to run her fingers through his hair, stifling a yawn with the other hand. Whatever confidence she'd had about asking about his mother was fading, she didn't want to upset him any further than she already had this week, nor did she want to ruin their cozy little night in. Hopefully they would have plenty of these in their future, even if things may not go according to plan.

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He let her talk without interjecting or complaining. It was good for her to talk about anything—especially things she enjoyed—rather than spending the majority of her time fussing about the child that may or may not be growing inside her womb. A pessimist teenager through and through, he'd always been of the opinion that it was much more important to focus on the future rather than the unchangeable past.

"I remember having to study ancient cultures when I was a child. I think I still have the picture books stashed away somewhere in his library, actually," he chuckled, pulling her tighter against him. "I, naturally, have forgotten every piece of information that was in them, and my auror ambitions made pursuing NEWT-level History of Magic impossible."

Despite his heavy course load at Hogwarts, he'd never really been the academic sort. He'd never really fit into any category, really—academics, quidditch crazies, nor the social butterflies. He'd just been...there.

"I did do Alchemy, though; I'm sure I thought it would make me superior to my fellow classmates at the time." He paused. "It didn't. I failed," he admitted sheepishly.

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— set by MJ! —

Letting her worry fade away for a few minutes was a most welcome change in thought. She listened, biting her lip so as not to interrupt. For one, she liked hearing about his time at school and before. And two, she lit up when he mentioned he may still have books on the subject, leaning up a little to look at him, excitement clear on her face. "Do you think I could borrow them? I'd really like to look through them." Certainly picture books wouldn't be too useful for information, but she was hoping the illustrations would be detailed enough to be an asset.

"I can't picture you studying Alchemy," She squinted toward the ceiling, as if she were trying to picture it, head tilted in thought. "Then again, I was nothing but a toddler at the time, what do I know?" The grin on her face was of the teasing sort, eyes mischievous as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. Merlin she enjoyed this.

Febs settled back into her pillow, snuggling in once more as he pulled her in. She'd been ready to give up tonight on asking him what she wanted to, but he'd vaguely opened the door for her... "Tell me more about your childhood?" She asked quietly, eyebrows raised hopefully, though she wouldn't press him if he didn't want to share.

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Edric wasn't sure what Febby could have to gain from his childhood picture books, but was not about to deny her when he had no reason to keep them. "I would be happy to oblige. Remind me later, alright?" he murmured. There were two libraries in the home—one larger one for guest (and his) use, and the one in his father's office that housed all his personal collections, including all his of his oh-so-sacred accounting books. He used to have to ask to go in there as a child, and though his father no longer fussed about it, he still felt obligated to ask.

"Don't remind me how old I am," he said with a tsk. "I'm sure a few of the wealthier boys in my year already had a bastard or two on the way by the time you were born." A sad truth, but one nevertheless. "Though I'm sure a number of them now have a wife your age, so no worries," he teased.

She asked about his childhood, which, fortunately, was much broader than his early years. He had no issue talking about his youth—at least he didn't think so, considering it wasn't a normal topic of conversation.

"Um," he began, clucking his tongue as he tried to find a good place to start. "My father built a factory empire long before my birth, and he always thought I would help manage them." Another pause. "I didn't. I never felt very suited for a desk job—at least at that age." It was still true, even today.

"He's rarely here. Much of his business is done with muggles in their small towns in Northern England. I hardly saw him during my school years, but he provided for us. I lived well compared to my friends, though I suppose I spent more time at their homes than mine," he explained.

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— set by MJ! —

"Oh I will, I still want to see that library." She really did. Oh how she loved a good library. What one held in their library was almost like a table of contents to the person to whom it belonged. It showed their interests, their ideas, their hobbies, all the little pieces that helped to make up a person. It fascinated her.

Chuckling, Febs snickered a little bit when he chastised her. The age gap wasn't something she cared about, not one tiny little bit, but it was an easy thing to tease him about. However, it seemed like he was going to oblige her second request and so she resumed running her fingers through his hair, watching him as he spoke. It was very much a comforting habit for her. His description of his father answered a few of her lingering questions about things that had come up in their arguments. It explained his want for affection and need to prove himself, but she also rather thought it explained why he was so independent and headstrong as well.

She was surprised to hear that much of the family business was with muggles, but pleasantly so. Not that she'd thought him particularly strict on those thoughts, but it was interesting nevertheless. When he finished, Febs waited a beat, nearly chickening out, before she turned wide blue eyes on his and prompted, "And your mum?"

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His mum. Edric, who had been well-prepared to talk about every little detail and every little moment of his childhood, shut up immediately. It brought about a silence different from the one that'd surrounded them beforehand; this was an uncomfortable, tense sort of silence—the sort he hadn't wanted to find himself in with February Lynch. He knew this was a subject she would question him on eventually, especially since he'd let information about her lips from his lips during their argument a few nights ago.

The truth was, he didn't know much.

"Nothing, really," he said quietly, his gaze flickering away from hers. "She left."

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— set by MJ! —

Febs felt as though the air in the room changed the second the question slipped from her lips. She instantly regretted her choice to ask so soon after their last argument. Though he was no longer looking at her, she watched him closely. His entire demeanor changed and she could tell that was likely the root of his side of the argument about her leaving.

Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes and she, not for the first time, thought she was getting to be far too emotional for her own good. "I'm sorry, Love. You don't have to tell me any more, I shouldn't have asked." Regret evident in her voice, she wanted to know when, what he remembered of her, but absolutely would not push him for any details he was not willing to give. Though the notion of a mother simply abandoning her family with no rhyme or reason seemed highly odd and incredibly selfish to Febby, it was perhaps because she'd grown up in a perfectly normal, incredibly loud, altogether whole household. She had to guess there was something more to it. There had to be.

Bringing her hand down from his hair, she brushed her thumb across his cheek gently before tucking her head down and snuggling in. She'd gone and let her big mouth ruin their lighthearted conversation once again and she felt like a fool for it.

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Edric remained silent for the moment, allowing her to apologize and tuck her head into the crook of his neck. He held her tighter, his breathing slow and catching every now and then as he tried to discern the best way to go about this topic. After a moment, he shook his head and made a disapproving humming noise.

"No, no," he murmured before kissing the top of her head. "I asked for honesty from you; it would unfair to not expect the same from me." It wasn't a subject he felt comfortable talking about, but there really wasn't much to it to begin with—and she deserved to know, whether she was the mother of his unborn child or not.

"She...was young. She married my father and wished desperately for his love, but my father was...not very inclined towards romance. She felt unloved, packed up, ran off with someone, and...left me," he explained, nuzzling against her head. "She never came back, wrote letters—nothing. I hardly anything about her. My father never recovered. Divorced but never remarried."

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— set by MJ! —

Wrapping the arm not trapped beneath her around him, she squeezed him gently, closing her eyes in the quiet moment, still feeling incredibly guilty about asking.

When he spoke next, Febs held her breath without realizing. She listened, barely moving, though subconsciously she tried to provide some kind of comfort physically any way she could. It was heartbreaking to hear, though she now understood his reaction the other night a bit better. It made her feel even more guilty.

"Thank you for telling me," She sniffled quietly. "I'm so sorry, Love." She was truly sorry for the circumstances. It sounded like a situation in which everyone was bound to lose. It must have been an incredibly difficult choice on his mother's part, but it didn't excuse abandoning him.

That thought made her feel ridiculously hypocritical.  

Well, now he was stuck with her until he decided otherwise. Waiting a brief moment to make sure he had nothing else to add, Febs leaned back enough to kiss him softly.

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She did not press him further, and he could breathe a sigh of relief knowing that he could trust her not to be the sort of woman who could not take an answer as it was. He nodded quietly as he listened to her sniffles, hoping that she might have been able to relate his current fears and insecurities with the ones that had consumed him in his youth.

He kissed her back softly, then more hungrily, and then not at all. He abruptly broke the kiss and buried his face into her bare neck, seeking the soft of silent comfort that he'd tried to give her nights before.

After a moment, though, he turned his head, both so he could breathe and so he could speak.

"I never wanted be like her—or him, for that matter. Not with my child. Not with my wife."

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— set by MJ! —

Responding to the kiss as it changed, Febs held on until it suddenly ended. Heaving a heavy sigh, she readjusted her position to accommodate him, tucking one arm beneath his head and pulling him in close.

"I know, Love, I know. You won't be.  We won't be; we're already better off." She promised him, absentmindedly running her fingers through his hair. They were already a step ahead, unintentionally and irrevocably in love, that was a good start.

"We'll make it work the best we can." Which was clearly more effort than his mother had been willing to put in. If, in two weeks, she was right and was carrying his child, she'd revisit eloping. Maybe. It would look suspicious, sure, and they'd be under some serious scrutiny, but in the long run would be better for them and everyone else would have to deal with it.

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If it had not been for their limited time on limited evenings together, Edric would have been fully content to fall asleep snuggled into her arms. Her reassurances did little do sway his concerns, but that was to be expected; those concerns had followed him for nearly his entire life and was little that could undo them in such a short time.

"It's times like these where I question my existence," he murmured, the smell of her perfume lulling him for the moment. "I always considered myself an active man with a thirst for adventure, but I'm not unsure I'd be perfectly happy to live an idle life from the comfort of my—our—bed."

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— set by MJ! —

Sighing softly, Febs closed her eyes and leaned her head atop his gently. As tired as she was, she was wide awake now at her own fault. She would likely turn this over in her head a hundred times before she was able to fall asleep. They'd landed themselves in quite the predicament, but oddly, she felt, it had managed to bring them even closer. It was likely the only thing keeping her from letting the guilt overwhelm her entirely.

She continued to run her fingers through his hair, the movement a comforting habit by now. "You're getting awfully existential on me, darling." She mumbled, slightly amused. Things were easier here, just the two of them, no worrying about what anyone else would think or having to care. Shutting out the outside world wasn't realistic, but it was a beautiful respite.

"That is to say, there are ways to stay active in our bed." She chuckled easily this time, her smile nothing but affectionate at his self-correction. Of course being active in bed was what had landed them where they were, but clearly it was too late to take that back and it had been too good of an opportunity to tease him. Plus, if she was pregnant, it wasn't like it could happen a second time on top of that...

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