The last few days had been eerily quiet in the Scrimgeour household. There had been no owls delivered, no mention of Annabelle and it felt as though there was a grey cloud ever-looming over the house.

Argus could attribute the tensions in the house to his own actions; he knew him coming home and taking his anger out on his wife - the mother of his unfortunate daughter - wasn't the best course of action but it was all he could think to do. Especially with how Annabelle had acted.

How dare his daughter try to stand against him and defy him. How dare she try to hit him with the stunning spell. How dare she run away.

He had made no attempts to find her though hoped she had splinched herself bad enough during her apparating that she had bled out. And though Media had, rather quietly, suggested he contact the aurors offices to locate her, Argus was not going to. That would suggest he cared and to care for someone who has disgraced the name of Scrimgeour, to Argus, was beyond weakness.

Julius was nowhere to be seen and Media had retreated to her own bubble (through fear of being on the receiving end of the retirees aggressions, no doubt). All that was left was to seek comfort in the one daughter he knew to be a climber and someone whom he could be proud of.

Moving from his office, rubbing his face, Argus quietly approached the room his daughter was situated in holding a small glass of whiskey. He didn't pay too much mind as to what she was doing; he just needed assurance that at least one of his children loved him.

Julius cared for Argus, as much as Argus could tell, and he acted as a son should; though there was always an air of despondency between the two. Being the eldest, Argus had hoped Julius remembered his father from before the attack and not as he was now.

His daughters, however, would only have ever known Argus as he was now. And to him, any sign of affection from Araminta Scrimgeour solidified that he was still a good person, even if he didn't act it sometimes. Her presence seemed to calm him sometimes - and it was when he was around her, he felt reminiscent of what it was to be a loving father (however short-lived).

"What is it you're doing, Araminta?" Argus asked quietly as he stood in the doorway to the room, "I wish to speak with you about a few things."

Before allowing her a response, Argus moved to sit next to her; a rather exceptionally un-Argus thing to do.