02-20-2017, 08:22 PM
Her schedule at work being what it was these days – and Mason being far too grown-up for her to need to check up on him every week – she had somehow managed to go from New Year till the middle of February without seeing her son once. Which would never do. He didn’t need checking on exactly but Morwenna didn’t equate knowing he wasn’t dead with knowing he was taking care of himself and so she had suggested, using her most official Ministry note-paper, that he should make an appearance in her dining room on Thursday evening.
Of course she had become accustomed to using the term ‘I suggest’ at work when in fact she meant ‘I insist’ so when having the table set that evening she hadn’t hesitated to set a place for Mason too. He would likely be punctual so she had given the cook very specific instructions and no sooner had she poured out a glass of wine for herself that she heard the telling noises of an arrival in the hallway.
“In here dear, you’re perfectly on time,” she called, casually filling another glass with cabernet sauvignon without missing a drop. It was expensive and would probably be wasted on her son’s palette, but it would do him good to drink something with a little more finesse than whatever was served at the castle these days.
“I do hope the headmaster didn’t give you detention for taking a night off?” She asked with a smirk as he came into the room, lifting her glass to her lips as she took him in and decided that yes, he definitely needed feeding up.
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Mason was a pretty self-sufficient creature by now. With his thirtieth birthday come and gone and several years teaching under his belt, he sure felt like an adult. So what was it with everybody checking in on him lately? Between Professor Wiltingham making sure he received a St. Valentine's present and now his mother beckoning him home for a weekday dinner, Mason wondered if people though he may have actually gotten lost in one of his greenhouses.
He was, of course, more than happy to go home and visit his mother. He'd been home a weekend last month to tackle the Tentacula that had attacked Miss Simpson, however his mother had been at the Ministry and he'd missed her entirely by the time he'd finished and had to return to Hogwarts. This time however, as he entered the house and hung up his cap and cloak, he could hear her call out from the dining room.
"Won't know until I get back later this evening." Mason joked affectionately as he bent to kiss his mother on the cheek in greeting. Frankly though, if he were being honest, Headmaster Black terrified him still to this day. Having the man as his potions professor as a child and even now as his boss, the man was the epitome of intimidating. "You started without me, I'm wounded." He smiled as he took his seat. "And you've been well, Mother?" He assumed he'd know if it were anything to the contrary, but he was also sure she'd like to torment him a little for going so long without seeing her.
Chuckling Morwenna took a happy sip of her wine, letting the kitchen know that they would soon be ready to eat with a ring of the bell, and settled back into her seat as she drank her son in.
“Barring the odd bit of nonsense that winter insists on inflicting upon us all I’ve been remarkably well, thank you,” apart from the various aches and pains that she was grudgingly beginning to accept were a symptom of age she couldn’t escape, but she didn’t feel the need to trouble her son with those complaints. He would find out himself one magical day so best not to frighten him now! Especially not when she had something else entirely she wanted to gage his opinion of – something she considered much more important that the crumbling state of her youth.
The Department was in need of a new Head and Morwenna was determined that within the next year it would be her. Mason’s opinion wouldn’t change her ambitions but she would much prefer to have her son’s blessing before she began to make her move at work.
“In fact I’d say I’ve never been better,” she added with a glint in her eye as she imagined finally having possession of the better office that didn’t have a slight smell of sardines. “And what about you? You look like you’ve lost weight so I take it the Headmaster is cutting costs by serving you all nothing but porridge?”
Suffice to say, Morwenna was even less impressed with her son’s employer than she was with her own.
Bury me with this set by Bee <3
As Mason relaxed into his chair, he eyed his mother speculatively. Sometimes he worried about her, here in the house with only their staff for company. Miss Simpson sometimes stopped by to see to the greenhouse as well, but he doubted she had time for visits herself. Then again, Gemma had always been a social creature if he remembered right. Either way, he knew he should get home more often to see her, but it was more difficult than he liked to admit.
He also realized, she was probably perfectly fine. She enjoyed her work, which he would never quite understand, but at least it kept her busy for the most part. "You don't say?" Mason raised a curious eyebrow when she said she'd never been better. He took a sip of his wine and nearly chocked when she mocked the headmaster again. What a formidable match they would be.
"Long hours in the greenhouses will do that to a man." Not to mention, at thirty years old now, Mason rather thought he'd finally managed to lose some of the last bits of baby fat on his face. Of course he did forget to go to the Great Hall for meals every now and then, but she did not need to know that. "No complaints though, you know there's little else I'd rather do." Mason did thoroughly enjoy his job, even if it was non-stop and taxing at some times. His social life was pretty non-existent, which he was sure vexed his mother a little bit, but Mason wasn't overly worried.
Teaching had never an occupation that Morwenna had objected to per say, and as long as Mason was happy then she knew she ought not to complain, even to herself, but she sometimes wished he hadn’t opted for Hogwarts. For one thing she had precious little love for the Headmaster and was firm in her belief that he probably treated his staff as badly as rumour had it he did his wife, although she doubted he was using his female staff as such expensive brood mares.
For another it was also far too close for her to be able to justify the length of time between Mason’s visits and try as she might Morwenna couldn’t help but dwell on that in the long and lonely dark nights. She sipped from her wine again and tried to banish the miserable thought – she was determined to be in a good mood tonight. Mason was here and there was no point wasting his presence on sorrow that could be easily dealt with by more wine later on!
“I know dear,” she replied with wry affection, shifting in her seat to get more comfortable. There was hardly need for formality with her son and she had opted for much more comfortable robes this evening; in fact she felt rather louche by comparison to her usual Ministry wear and the feel of expensive fabric was a pleasurable novelty. “I only wish I shared your feeling of contentment,” she confided, leaning forwards in her seat. “I intend to shake things up a little at work as soon as I possibly can. Mr Flint has got to go and I want his office.”
Bury me with this set by Bee <3