July 23rd, 1888 - Belby Residence, London

Aria Belby

The full moon hung in the sky. Or it would, in a few hours, something that they were all well aware of yet were also not acknowledging. Begonia was antsy, but this was a separate issue - with the fog in Hogsmeade, there was less to do with the season. With less of a season, she had nothing to do. With nothing to do, she had taken up embroidering again, and she did not enjoy embroidering.

The after dinner conversation had Begonia in the parlor with just her niece. She was stabbing the fabric of her embroidery repeatedly. In theory it would eventually be flowers. How did people find this soothing? She nearly stabbed herself in the index finger when Aria got to the crux of her story.

"You saw a mugging?" Begonia said. She did not sound horrified; instead she sounded rather jealous.

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Aria did not like full moons. They made her think about him and his betrayal towards their family. To be a known werewolf was one thing, but it was forgivable; divorcing her mother and altogether abandoning their family was not. While her Papa's natal family had altogether ceased to speak of him, they'd fortunately spared his children—Aria included—from the same fate. Thus, she sat in the parlor of her grandparents' home, her Aunt Begonia at her side, while she (unsuccessfully) attempted to embroider a crescent moon into her handkerchief.

She stopped about halfway through to spill the story she'd been burying for the last three days, and much to her relief, Aunt Begonia didn't seem upset—at least not with her.

"Yes, and this - this hot-headed, pig-faced dunce assaulted me in his oh-so-heroic attempt to save me! Grabbed me by the wrist and everything!" she huffed, slouching back in her chair.

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☙ Post Log ❧

Begonia leaned forward in her chair. "So someone else saw it, and tried to help, but wasn't very good at it," she said, "But. What about the person who was mugged? Did you see anything from them?" She did not much care to ask about the supposed dunce; he was much less interesting than the crime itself, as far as Begonia was concerned.

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Aria mirrored her aunt by leaning forward in her chair, her face twisted in frustration as she struggled to remember just exactly had been going on when the ginger asshole interrupted her.

"I'm not really sure what was happening," she admitted, but leaning a little closer, she added: "I'm not sure it was just a mugging, though. There was one man on the ground and one hovering above him, but when that man saw us, he had murder in his eyes," It was terrifying, but she wasn't going to admit that.

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☙ Post Log ❧

"Well, did anyone die?" Begonia asked. Secretly, she was going to be rather disappointed if no one had (at the very least!) almost perished.

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Aria sat back in her chair dramatically, staring off into nowhere as if she'd come to some great epiphany.

"I almost died, Aunt Begonia." The ginger-haired freak almost died, too, at the hands of her. If she ever saw him again... "But I suppose the man didn't die. I think I would have seen it in the Prophet, unless..."

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☙ Post Log ❧

Begonia tilted her head at her niece. Her embroidery was all but forgotten, and sat limply on her lap. "Did he try to attack you?" she asked, "I suppose he may have been scared off by all the... people." Or maybe Aria was being a tad dramatic; Begonia wasn't sure.

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Aria's gaze became more focused and her breathing much deeper as she tried to remember back to the moment: the colors, the passersby, the ginger-kidnapper-demon-man, and then the criminal himself.

"He stood up once he heard us," she said, "and he started coming towards us. I think - I think he would have done something if we hadn't gotten out of there."

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☙ Post Log ❧

Begonia was sure that they had burned through salacious details of the story, which was a bummer at best. "Well I'm glad you're okay," she said, and returned to her embroidery.

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