2 June 1894 - The Augurey Beak Cafe
Irene Crawley

It was difficult to explain in a letter what had happened, and why Gus was considering what he was – he didn’t know what Irene knew of Sophia’s condition, and it wasn’t his place to tell her. So, he’d been vague enough, asking her to meet him here for an urgent matter, when she had time, of course. He also wanted to see how she was fairing, if she had any lasting effects from her coma, and how he might help her if he could. Everything seemed to have blown up at once, and now it was time to sweep up the pieces they best they could.

The Augurey Beak Cafe seemed like the perfect spot to discuss all of these matters; it was crowded for one, so their conversation wouldn’t stand out, and two, it was a shadier place, so he felt confident that their conversations wouldn’t be heard by people who would spread anything. Sophia didn’t know anything about his potential, and Gus would rather keep it that way. He wasn’t sure if he’d go through with it, anyway.

The very thought of it made Gus nervous, and as he sat in a booth near the front door waiting for Irene, he nervously wiped his hands against his pants before he fiddled with the glass in front of him. Whiskey, because he needed something stronger than water – liquid courage, or whatever the hell people were calling it these days. He’d ordered his friend one too, although wouldn’t be offended if she didn’t drink it. Come to think of it, Gus didn’t know what Irene’s drink of choice was. He’d have to ask her.

Gus kept his head down as he stared at the table, only looking up as someone slid in across from him. Relief spread across his face to find that it was Irene, and not some stranger this time around. He cleared his throat. “Hi. Thanks for coming.”

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True joy seemed hard to come by these days. Irene had returned to her job at the Magical Portrait Gallery once she had fully felt she recovered, and yet it was hard to find that spark that she remembered having all those years. She had reconnected with clients and sent out the proper letters letting them know she was open for commission again, and had received some positive replies; but she knew her works were lacking in something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

It was a hot day outside for once. She tilted her head up to the sunlight as she walked, taking off her hat. Freckles had splattered themselves across the bridge of her nose as her skin tanned to a darker golden brown. Brown eyes scanned the crowd for potential signs of familiar faces - a habit that she hadn’t seemed to kick ever since she woke up - but upon finding no one, she continued onto the Augurey Beak Café where she said she’d meet Gus. Opening the door wafted a draft of cool air against her cheeks, and Irene gave a sigh as she looked around. She spotted him immediately, and raised a hand up to wave at him.

He didn’t seem to notice.

A closer look told her something was troubling him, and Irene quickly crossed the room to the booth and sat down. A smile ticked up at the corners of her mouth as he registered her. “I wouldn’t miss it,” She said mildly, gesturing in askance to the drink that had been occupying the space in front of her seat since she arrived. “Something troubling you Gus Gus?” The nickname slid off her tongue with ease, and a familiar flickering of…something fluttered in her chest as she looked at him.

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as of 20 Dec 1893, Irene's hair is cut short above her shoulders

Even with one of his dear friends sitting in front of him, Gus couldn’t help but to nervously fidget, although Irene’s smile managed to put him a bit more at ease than he expected. It wasn’t like he had killed someone and needed help hiding a body (something he figured she’d help him with, no questions asked), so really, he shouldn’t be as nervous as he was. He let out a slight breath as his gaze raised to seek out Irene’s, although she had always been better at keeping her cards close to her chest than he was.

“How are you feeling after everything that’s happened?” Gus asked, tipping his head to the side as he observed her, ignoring the look she gave the drinks in front of her. He was never a big drinker, unless something major was happening in his life. It had been scary, thinking he was going to lose her, and of course he’d visited her in the hospital every chance he could. But she had woken up and there didn’t seem to be any lasting effects he could see… although Gus would be the first to admit that he hadn’t truly asked her about the coma since she’d woken up.

The professor cleared his throat as he leaned forward to let his elbows rest on the table. “Could you ever imagine me getting married?” He asked quietly, trying to make his expression neutral so as to not give anything away.

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Though her memory had been tampered with, her friendship with Gus, Sophia and Penny remained mostly intact; the closer one of her friends was to Elias, the more murky her memory became. But she hadn’t updated Gus on any of that yet. As Irene settled in, she took a deep breath, preparing to relay everything to Gus. She’d been meaning to tell him sooner rather than later, but there was always a fear of how her news would be received. She’d decided willingly, told Mr. Igao to do what he needed to do; but requesting to having your memories taken from you was never something that should be taken lightly.

Taking one of the drinks in front of her, Irene raised it to her lips and took a healthy swig. The liquor slid down her throat easily, burning as it did so. And she was about to let spill everything (given the large amount of whiskey she’d just taken) to answer his question, when Gus took her completely by surprise. Irene stared at him. Where in the world was he going with this meeting? Mouth slightly agape, Irene searched his expression for any sign of humor. It wasn’t uncommon for them to pull pranks on each other, but it was usually easy to see where the prank was going once it got started. With this one…Irene came up with nothing. So after a moment’s pause, she heard herself say: “You…never really expressed the desire to marry…I suppose…?”

She slid her glass to the side and laced her fingers together. Something told her she’d be needing a clear head for this.

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as of 20 Dec 1893, Irene's hair is cut short above her shoulders

Oh no. Irene was just staring at him, her eyes searching his ace like he might have grown a second head. Now that was a curse he hadn’t been hit with before, and it sounded terrible that Gus didn’t want it to happen to him, ever. He laughed, albeit a bit too loudly that it drew a curious eye for a moment from another table, causing Gus to curl closer to the table. He watched his dear friend before his hand came up to rub the back of his head as he sheepishly grinned at her.

Irene knew how he was, and he never did want to be tied down to anyone or anywhere, but Sophia needed him. Not that he was going to put her business out there, and it wasn’t his to tell. “Well, I guess not.” Gus said after a moment, his own hands dropping to the table. He nervously thrummed them against the wood as he tried to gather his thoughts. “Well, see, I have this erm… friend. And she’s in a lot of trouble, I guess you could say. And well, me marrying her would help her a lot.” This was difficult to explain for a few reasons, although it was mostly because he didn’t want to expose the fact that Sophia was actually pregnant, when they were going to hide the pregnancy to pretend like the baby was his, after they wed.

“I mean, I do love her, just not love love, you know?” Gus blew out a breath. “She doesn’t know that I plan on asking her, and I’m not sure she’ll say yes.” Then he sighed. “I don’t know. It’s a weird situation.” He should ask her how she was doing, but he didn’t want to discount everything Irene had gone through. He’d asked her after, when they could focus on her.

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She had known why Gus hadn’t expressed a desire to marry - but it wasn’t like she could say that in public, so that was what she had settled on. Thinking that he might volley back a protest about not finding the right person so that it might gloss over the ears of anyone who overheard, but held meaning for those who knew the truth. But instead, Gus didn’t protest much. Instead, looked anxious, as if he might pitch a plan to lay siege to Hogwarts and ask her to come with him.

Irene wasn’t prepared for his answer, and quite frankly she was glad she wasn’t drinking or eating anything.

His explanation came in the form of gallantry - because what else could Gus be capable of? - and Irene leaned back, crossing her arms as she listened. One of his friends was in trouble. Marriage would keep her out of it, at least relatively so. Irene frowned, not because she didn’t approve, but she couldn’t help but try to read between the lines. who was this friend? And marrying him would help her how? What kind of trouble was she in?

Obviously it wasn’t something he could tell her, and Irene was….okay with that, though she couldn’t help but feel left out in some capacity.

But Gus willing to marry someone to get them out of trouble? Well, it was only too sweet, and Irene felt a great deal of affection for her friend in that moment. She cast him a soft smile because it occurred to her that maybe he was nervous about her reaction to this news. So she listened to the rest of what he had to say, trying to keep a kind expression on her face. And when he was finished, she let out a sigh. “You really do wear your heart on your sleeve, Gus Gus, you know that?” She responded with a wry smile. “I won’t ask what kind of trouble she’s in, but…” She paused, thinking over her words. “Do you think you could be happy living with her? Having a life with her?”

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as of 20 Dec 1893, Irene's hair is cut short above her shoulders