Closing my eyes, remember how we were like
Gold, when you see me
Hi, if you need me
Babe, that's the way it was
That's the history
Blue, how we used to roar
Like an open fire
That's the way it was
But that's history

He had come with good intentions. Things had been rough between the two of them for the past several months, that much was true, but he was doing his best not to carry that weight into this conversation. Thom was even trying to forget the more recent slight of having embarrassed himself by arriving alone to a party his wife had already declined the invitation for. Viewing it charitably, he supposed perhaps she had seen his forwarding the invitation to her in the first place as a gesture meaning he intended to leave the matter in her hands — which was, in fact, what he had been trying to do. In his opinion, however, the 'matter' left in her hands should have been responding to invitations and making pleasantries and doing the bare minimum of what was expected of any society wife, not making excuses and hiding in the country house.

But he wasn't here to berate her for not having attended the party. As embarrassing as it had been, it was over now, and dwelling on it would hardly help Hannah move on from this paralyzing isolation she had surrounded herself with. Given how recent that particular awkwardness had been, though, it was imperative that they start the season out on the right foot. While the debutantes might not start their cascade of debuts for another month or even two, the Quidditch season began next week, and Thom intended to fill his social calendar almost immediately, which meant that Hannah really had to be ready to do the same.

He'd come to the country house unannounced, and after dealing with a very surprised servant, had been ushered into the parlor while someone went to find out where Mrs. Pettigrew was and whether she could be pulled away from whatever she was doing. It was ridiculous, he thought, to need to be announced in his own home, and even more so to wait in the parlor with a tray of tea biscuits like he was an unexpected guest or a traveling salesman, but he wasn't particularly inclined to waste an hour prowling around the house and grounds looking for her. It wasn't as though he knew what she did with her time, these days, so he wouldn't even have known where to begin.

After what seemed like a monstrously long time to be kept waiting for anyone, much less his own wife, she finally appeared. Thom attempted a genuine smile, though it was a bit tight with impatience after having been left alone in the parlor so long. "Darling," he greeted briskly. "How are you feeling, today?"