She couldn't help it; she laughed so loud she had to cover her mouth with her hands to stifle the noise. Lydia was likely passed out from second-hand embarrassment in the shrubs by now, but truthfully she'd forgotten the maid was lurking nearby.

Clearly he hadn't expected her to actually follow through, though in all fairness, he had suggested it. "I have a twin brother, I started early." And a horde of sisters, none of whom she'd ever punched, but with August it had started in the womb and she was pretty proud of it.

Still, this whole interaction left her dizzy. What in the name of Merlin's beard had happened from start to now? February had absolutely no idea what the hell was even going on anymore. Such a wide range of emotions in such a short period of time. "I'd say I'm sorry, but I don't think I am. She chuckled, pressing her lips together to prevent another laugh. "I'm not sure you deserved it either though, are you alright?" The urge to reach out was high, but she resisted and instead flexed her fingers to test the self-inflicted damage.

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The following 1 user Likes February Umbridge's post:1 user Likes February Umbridge's post
   Edric Umbridge

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Edric—probably for the first time since he'd met her—flashed a wide, true, genuine smile. He'd never heard her laugh before, and it was definitely a delightful experience to say the least. (But at the same time, fuck, he was going to be thinking about that for the rest of the day.) Dealing with these sort of emotions wasn't his usual forte; he doubted the momentary bliss would last forever.

"I don't envy him at all," he chuckled, rubbing his palm against his jaw. There was no telling what it looked like under his beard, and in all reality, that was probably a good thing. He didn't really need his coworkers wondering how a paperwork visit had left him bruised—he was already teased enough for minor injuries.

"I'm should be fine, Miss Lynch—unless hearing of my pain would keep you smiling, of course." He tried to lean to the side just a bit in an attempt to catch a glance of her knuckles. "Did it hurt? For you, I mean."

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— set by MJ! —

This whole situation was so utterly ridiculous that February hardly knew what to do or say at this point. She did feel oddly better though- apparently punching him was cathartic for her. A release for all the pent up energy, it was amazing really. Watching him rub his chin gave her an odd sense of satisfaction, but despite not apologizing, she did feel bad. Just a little.

Gently she reached out to prod her handiwork. It was hard to tell with his beard in the way, but he would likely need some ice- as would she. "Of course it did, you've got a hard head." She chuckled and let her hand fall a little to show him her red, irritated knuckles. "But at least I match now." Febs flashed her other hand, though that was already healing nicely. Still, she was flabbergasted at how they'd arrived here, laughing over her punching him for a second time.

"I feel like we should start over. I have no idea what in the name of Merlin's beard has happened in the last ten minutes, but I'm thoroughly confused." No more slamming doors, no punching, no nasty comments. She wasn't ashamed to admit that this whole thing had thrown her so far out of the loop that she'd just instinctively punched him, again. "February Lynch, it's a pleasure to meet you."

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His face went pink, mirroring hers moments ago, as she reached out and touched him. Nope, there was no forgetting today, not at least for the next year and a half—at that was assuming he'd never see her again. Feeling uncharacteristically nervous—Edric didn't exactly flirt with women on a regular basis—he instinctively cradled her fist in his hand and gently brushed a thumb against her swollen knuckles.

"That's definitely going to leave a bruise," he confirmed before releasing her hand. "I must confess, I've never been in a conversation where I had no clue what to say," he added in agreement. He didn't remember a time he'd bickered with a woman—and not just any woman, but the woman he'd assisted just earlier in the week—like he had with Miss Lynch. It was equally endearing as it was frustrating.

"Edric Umbridge," he responded, his smile never fading. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

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— set by MJ! —

Febby hissed out a little complaint as he ran his thumb over her knuckles. The spot was tender, but she appreciated the sentiment all the same. "Oddly, I feel better after that." She admitted as she retracted her hand, setting it gently atop her forgotten book simply for a safe place to rest. "At least we're on the same page then." Since the first time they'd met.

"Was there anything else you needed me to look at, or Lydia for that matter?" Astonishingly, her maid was still standing, though admittedly bright red as she leaned against the fence for support. There was no doubt in her mind that Febs would hear about this later from her maid, but fortunately for her, Lydia wasn't too much older than herself and didn't have the tendency to go running to her mother. Febby would be kidding herself if she thought her mother wouldn't hear about it though. That she was not looking forward to.

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Merlin, he'd gone and gotten himself involved with a sadist. Still, he was reluctant to believe she could really be of much harm, especially since her punches left little more than temporary bruising and a little soreness. (And hell, he'd much have her punching him than being evasive and passive aggressive with him.)

"I'll make sure to remember that for next time—punches soothe the nerves," he teased, picking himself off the ground and back into a standing position. He offered a hand to help her up before smiling. "No, I think that should be all for today. Hopefully the evidence against him will convince the suspect to take a plea deal, freeing you from any court obligations."

When all was said and done, Edric was led back into the house, the eyes of one or two servants following him as he left. He just had a feeling he'd be seeing Miss Lynch again—for whatever reason.

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— set by MJ! —