June 14th, 1888 — Bartonburg, Hogsmeade

A routine report of suspicious activity had quickly led to an auror presence in Bartonburg in the most unexpected way possible. They had first suspected breaking and entering, but it had quickly become apparent that a criminal ring—led none other than by the adult son of the family there—was the true reason the suspicious fellows had been lurking in the area. The only dangerous part had been one or two combative suspects; for the most part, however, the removed of illegally-enchanted muggle artifacts and arrest of six or so twenty-something men were without much ado. No one wanted to fight three trained aurors.

Edric was outdoors—in the middle of the dark, which make filing paperwork a difficulty—when he noticed that more than a few civilians had congregated outside the gates to their homes.

One familiar face included.

With a quick glance behind him, Edric began to walk in her direction, remaining quiet until he reached her. It seemed that he couldn't seem to avoid her now (not that he wanted to). It made him wonder just how many times he'd crossed paths with her before he'd known who she was.

"Miss Lynch," he greeted amicably, a tired smile on his face.

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— set by MJ! —

It was later than any self-respecting young lady should have been up, but Febby had started a new novel and was rather enthralled with hit. Warm summer air wafted through her open window overlooking the garden, but the late night quite was interrupted by some kind of kerfuffle on the street out front. Without any window to see from her own room, she closed her book, almost relieved for the reason to stop and crept across the hall to August's room.

She barged in without knocking and peered down at the street below through his window instead. It was hard to tell what was going on, but it seemed that something was most certainly happening next door. There was some shouting, she could see people on the street, but for the most part things were unclear to her. Naturally curious and with a flare for adventure, Febby donned her housecoat and slippers and crept outside through the back, through the garden and to the wrought-iron fence that joined to the house next door. It was little more than a gate, but she got a much better view of what was happening. Apparently some of her neighbors were being arrested. That was new.

Briefly she wondered if Mr. Umbridge was  tasked with this dilemma, but didn't have to question it for long as he materialized before her, looking a little worse for the wear. Febby tossed her simple plait over her shoulder, having totally forgotten that she was essentially ready for bed when she'd decided to sneak outside, but it was a little too late to worry about appearances.

"Missed me that much, hmm?" He looked incredibly tired, though unharmed at least. She really didn't want to have to go visit him in the hospital. Febby wrapped her fingers around the pickets of the gate as she leaned forward to get a better look at him, though her right hand protested the motion through her bandaged knuckles.

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He would have likely been more concerned if she'd been looking ready to go out, but he couldn't help flicker his gaze downward to see what she was donning. It was obviously night apparel, and her hair, pretty and in light waves, hung down her back in untidy strands. It seemed that, even when sweating, tired-looking, and probably with one or two visible scrapes, see was more than willing to tease him—and in some way, he appreciated that.

"Terribly," he teased in response, brushing the stray hairs out of his face so he could see her without trouble. "I'd say I'm shocked that you came outside in this middle of this situation—" he said with a glance towards the number of law enforcement officials in the background. "—but I'm not. Not at all."

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— set by MJ! —

Febs chuckled quietly at his assumption, he learned quick. She was also highly amused that he simply played along with her joke. After yesterday she wouldn't have been surprised if he was ready to pretend she didn't exist anymore, even after they'd sort of come to terms with one another. Though that may have not been the case, considering he'd bothered to owl her about the case itself again. Febby hadn't even replied to his last owl yet, having gotten lost in her book right after dinner. That seemed a little superfluous now though as he was standing in front of her. He could have just as easily pretended not to see her.

"I never shy away from an adventure." She flashed him a wide grin knowing he could very well spout some kind of concern about that. "I was up late reading, heard the commotion," Febs explained quickly, hoping to cut out any room for a rebuttal. "Are you alright?" She appreciated he may not be able to tell her much about what was going on, but she was more curious about his well-being anyway. It was a little too late and he looked a little too tired for her to be her normal, obnoxious self so she didn't get too snarky about it.

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Are you alright? seemed to be one of the phrases more frequently exchanged between them—but he did suppose the events of the last two weeks warranted that question. Between her being attacked by a suspect and his jaw suffering from frequent connection with her fist, each other's well-being was an appropriate conversational topic.

"Well you missed the adventure by about ten minutes, I'm afraid," he rebutted with a tired chuckle. He leaned his side against the fence, taking in and releasing a few deep breaths. What he really wanted was to sit down; what he'd believed would be a thirty-minute confrontation with a few punks had led to six arrests. Ugh.

"I think I'm fine," he said, running his hands down his robe-clad torso for any signs of soreness—or worse, blood he hadn't yet detected. As expected, though, there was nothing. "One of the bastards—" Well, fuck, he'd probably said too much just with that. "—well, I was hit with something, but it didn't seem to do any damage. Probably just sparks." It was one of those things he would try to forget about now, and then proceed to completely overreact about the moment he started feeling any pain or discomfort he couldn't identify.

If it ever came to that.

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— set by MJ! —

"That's probably for the better," Not that she would have gone running in this time, she'd learned her lesson there. Febby had no grand delusions of being an auror or anything of the sort, though she would have probably been pretty good at it. Febs was particularly gifted at transfiguration if she could say so and the rest of her subjects hand't been so bad either. Had her mother any inclination to let her work however, it would most certainly not be in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

His nonchalance about possibly being injured struck Febby as both worrisome and familiar; she was exactly the same way so she knew he could easily just be trying to keep it from her. "You think?" Feb's quirked an eyebrow at him, brushing stray tendrils of hair from her face in the process. Though there was no visible damage that she could see at the moment, it was dark and he wasn't even sure. Febs bit her lip, wondering if there was something she could do to help, but wasn't sure what to offer. "I can have somebody bring something out for you? Coffee? Tea?" Febs wasn't sure what else she could do, he probably wasn't allowed to leave everything and come inside, but that was to be expected.

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"I don't know; your punching skills may have been useful," he chuckled, trying to imagine a few twenty-something men being faced with a violent, loud, snarky Miss Lynch. They probably would have froze up, unsure of how to handle such a confrontation (he, on more than one occasion, had). Ha.

Edric was a man, and as such wanted to give no indication that he was in need of assistance—especially when he wasn't even sure he was in need of assistance. Still, the thought of getting a cup of tea or anything down his throat was tempting, and though he said nothing directly, he case a knowing glance in her direction.

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— set by MJ! —

Febs pulled a face when he completely ignored her offer for something from inside. She highly doubted anybody wanted her involved with taking down criminals after her last foray into that adventure. She was all set there. Adventurous as she was, she didn't need to go looking for trouble and she had very well told him that. Besides, he was the only one she'd punched in quite some time.

"I don't go around punching just anyone, Mr. Umbridge." She said with a slight smirk before adding, "Well I could go for some tea to watch the show," Honestly she probably shouldn't, lest she get any sleep tonight, but since he clearly wasn't going to ask for anything, she would just have to bring it to him. "Will you be out here much longer?" That would indicate some coffee for sure.

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Edric turned around to rest his back against the fence instead of his sigh. A chair would definitely be welcome right now, but he wasn't about to ask to intrude upon Miss Lynch and her family's hospitality. Fortunately, she seemed to have a sharp eye for spotting his bullshit, and thus suggested she get something for herself.

"I'll be here for as long as it takes for me to finish this paperwork," he explained, holding up the stack of papers he was still struggling to balance on his palm. "You going to keep me company?" he added teasingly.

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— set by MJ! —

Ah paperwork, that definitely needed coffee. "Sure, you never know, you could still need my punching skills yet, if only to keep you awake." She chuckled. "I'll meet you on the front steps in a few minutes." Oh her mother was going to kill her, certainly. Febby was going to say she was trying to apologize for punching him again by providing a warm beverage to the auror trying to keep their street safe. That should work... or her mother would see right through her bullshit. Either way.

With that she pushed off the gate and made her way back through the garden, up the back steps and into the kitchen. Febs wasn't overly useful in the kitchen itself, but she could make coffee with little trouble. She started the kettle and scurried upstairs real fast to her room to grab her wand and then back down, pausing ever so briefly at the looking glass in the hallway to make sure she didn't look too much like  disheveled mess. Her pride dictated at least that much, though she wasn't exactly sure why.

Moving around the kitchen as quietly and efficiently as she could, she knew she wasn't the only one awake, not with the racket on the street previously, but apparently nobody else was curious enough to actually go take a look. Of course as soon as she thought that Mrs. Harding came waddling her way into the kitchen and Febby explained as she went. Mrs. Harding, ever the saint, pulled some scones leftover from this morning to go with the coffee. Febs collected cups and some fixings for the coffee on a little tray and managed not to spill anything on her way out. She was rather impressed with herself. She flicked her wand carefully at the front door to have it swing open, trying to balance the tray on one hand.

"Still awake?" She teased as she sat down on the front steps and setting the tray down beside her, keenly aware of Mrs. Harding now sitting in the front window watching her with a bemused expression.

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In the short few minutes of her absence, Edric watched as the group of law enforcement officials—some aurors, some not—speaking in a huddled circle. He may have been a tad nosier if he'd have been more alert, but he'd already convinced himself that the action of the evening was over and was beginning to wind down.

He allowed himself to slide down to the ground once he'd moved to the front steps of her home, his knees at an angle where he found finally rest the stack of papers against them without wasting half of his attention on merely balancing the pesky sheets. His quill scribbled away at the papers, but it wasn't too long before the clattering of the tray spooked him right out of the his work headspace.

"Unfortunately," he responded with a grin before his gaze fell to the the treats she'd brought. "Plan on consuming all of that by yourself?" She'd brought far more than just her cup of tea, suggesting she'd  taken pity on him.

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— set by MJ! —

"Mrs. Harding thought we needed a near-midnight snack and coffee. I don't argue with her." No, no, nobody argued with Mrs. H. Even Febs wasn't that stupid.

Febby set about fixing her own cup of coffee with a little sugar, but left if otherwise black,  like her humor. Wrapping her fingers around the mug as best she could, Febby rested her elbows on her knees and watched the rest of the arrest it what was still left of the commotion with mild intrigue.

"Dare I ask what happened next door?" It would be nice to know what exactly she'd been living next to for however long at this point, though sure would no doubt find out in the near future thanks to the newspaper.

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Surely their arrangement at the moment was outside the realm of propriety, but he wasn't very inclined to care after a long day that culminated into yet another night of arrests. Besides, Miss Lynch seemed like she didn't care, and he was very prone to mirroring the moods and actions of those around him.

"Midnight snacks, hm?" he asked, picking up one of the scones and examining it. Anything was better than nothing, which is precisely what he'd had to eat since on his break approximately five hours ago. He took a bite to test it and—"Delicious," he said with a nod of approval. "I believe Mrs. Harding was also the one who made the cookies last week?" He'd definitely have to be writing her a thank you note one of these days.

Her comment on the situation prompted him to glance back towards the scene, where some of the on-call officials were beginning to leave. He was glad that Bartonburg hadn't yet been taken over by the fog; that would have made tonight's call a rather difficult thing to handle.

"Illegal enchantments," he offered as his only explanation. He doubted that offered much context, but he was sure that was the extent of the information he could give. It was better, he decided, to change the topic—not that the events of tonight would be easily forgotten with the commotion still going on around them.

"The fog's come to Hogsmeade." It was a statement, rather than a question. "Do you have plans to leave? Or do you intend to stay here, or...?" Though he knew it was unlikely—most folks of their status didn't have the privilege of having multiple houses they could flee to in times of trouble—part of him hoped she had some uncle or aunt she and her family could reside with until the mystery of the fog was solved.

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— set by MJ! —

Febby took a sip of her coffee, enjoying the warmth that radiated down her hands. It may be summer, but with the sun long since set, she rather thought the night air was a little chilly. Not enough to send her inside just yet, but enough for her to appreciate the added warmth the coffee provided. "She'll be pleased to hear you think so. And yes, she made the cookies as well."

She wasn't hungry, so she left that to him, but she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye when he mentioned illegal enchantments. "Wonderful, guess you never really know who your neighbors are." She was a little surprised, in this section of Bartonburg, but she supposed anybody could really do anything crazy anywhere as long as they were secretive.

When he next mentioned the looming fog, Febby turned to face him a little better, trying to read his face, but wasn't sure she was getting anything helpful. His inquiry caught her a little off guard, but she supposed that was part of his job too, since they were still trying to figure out what it was exactly. "We're staying so far as I know. We don't really have anywhere else to go." Well, she supposed they could go to Uncle Reming's, but knew they all wouldn't fit. "But I'm sure we'll be fine." With the fog now in Wellingtonshire, she had little doubt it would kee creeping this way, but what exactly were they to do about it? "No leads on its origin then?" She asked after a pensive sip of her coffee.

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So she was staying. His shoulders fell as he released a deep breath, but it wasn't one in relief. For some reason, the thought of her being stuck here filled him with dread—for a reason he couldn't exactly pinpoint, though the emotions were definitely strong—and he avoided her gaze, instead focusing on some of the folks across the streets who were peeking over their gates. Perhaps knowing someone living in Hogsmeade who wasn't also a coworker made the mystery of the fog even more disconcerting. Yes, that obviously had to be it.

"No friends in London to stay with?" he murmured in question, his gaze still averted from hers. With all the tragedy in Hogsmeade, he was surprised that the magical population still considered it the ideal place to live—especially during the season. He could never imagine living here himself, even with the laws permitting free use of magic. "... None that they've informed us about," he finally responded, his gaze moving back to her.

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— set by MJ! —

Febby sighed slightly. There really wasn't anywhere for them to go, not the whole family anyway. "I have four siblings and a house full of staff, we can't just abandon ship." She did of course, have a friend or two that she could stay with, but she wasn't about to leave everyone else. Nate couldn't house her entire family after all, that would be ridiculous. He likely would, if they asked, but Febby knew nobody would.

"I'm sure it'll get sorted." It would be highly unlike Febs to start panicking now. So far as she knew the fog itself wasn't inherently dangerous, it was that people would start acting like idiots. Then again, she supposed if the fog were to expand anymore, she wouldn't exactly be going anywhere either. "We'll be fine. You'll be too busy to worry about me, I suspect." He knew very well what exactly she thought of his concern for her. Then again, things had kind of settled after she'd punched him again. She highly doubted he'd have enough time to spare her much thought. She on the other hand would likely be wondering just how he was fairing a great deal... especially if she was stuck at home with no end in sight.

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