June 14th, 1892 — Hogsmeade, somewhere a little more quiet and less bustly

Poppy was glad there was only a week or so left until her coming out ball. It had been a sad day, her last at Hogwarts, but at least she’d had a moment with June and Ida to commemorate their time together as friends. Poppy hoped that over the coming years the three of them would stay friends, though she knew they could never possibly be as close as they had been. Not really. Especially because in truth, all three of them ran in slightly different circles. Poppy tried to shake the thought from her mind and scooted closer to June for comfort.

This was their first week of freedom and there was a lot to do yet leading up to both their coming out balls! Poppy’s was this week and June’s was somewhere in the very near future as well. They both had their attire long since selected, but Poppy had insisted today that they poke around and try to find a new ribbon to match her dress. She wouldn’t be wearing it of course, that evening. No, mama had pulled out a very fine selection of diamonds and pears from the family vault to tuck into Poppy’s updo for the ball, but for her own sake - and to find an excuse to see June - Poppy had made a thing of it.

In truth, she was nervous. They both were, in a way, but fussing and fretting and distraction certainly helped Poppy keep busy enough to not think about the flutter of doxy wings against her intensities should she… fall, or make an imbecile out of herself that evening. As such, they had embarked upon Hogsmeade with a pair of maids in tow. June had just scampered off to the apothecary in search of… Poppy knew not what, but it left the brunette to her own devices for awhile.

She had just meandered away from the main street and stepped to the side, in a slightly grassy patch under a tree, when something black caught her eye. It was… moving around her feet. Poppy’s heart beat quickly and she lifted her skirts a touch only to see a snake slither back under them. She shrieked, bloody murder, and practically jumped into the arms of a passing stranger. It was a man, she thought, from the feel of it - but that was so far from her mind as Poppy practically collapsed into him. “There’s a snake under my dress,” she hissed, trembling. “Please, please be rid of it!”

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Owen Beauregard & This, because foreshadowing muahaha

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© Fox

Owen and Lottie were the last Beauregards at home, and while it was strange for the mere fact there used to be six of them there all of the time, ever since Elsie had gotten married, the house was extra quiet. Not to mention he felt like his mother was always looking at him like he should find something to do.

When quidditch was in session, he had plenty to do to keep him busy, but as that was not the case at present, he was left to his own devices. He wasn't a member of any of the local clubs, but he did have friends in town, and he was free to come and go at most them as his mates were either in similar positions or had a day off here and there where they could hit the pub and visit. His chaperoning duties to Lottie were minimal at best, as he was not the best at it and their housekeeper or a maid could also be employed for such excursions, Owen found himself with a lot of free time on his hands.

Which had led him to the Broomsticks to have a pint with a friend, before he was due to pick up an order of new quidditch gear at the Quality Quidditch. He was between the two when a piercing shriek echoed across the High Street and he suddenly found himself with an armful of dress and young lady. "Miss Dashwood, we have to stop meeting like this." He chuckled as he did his best to steady her, while already searching for the aforementioned snake's whereabouts. "Under or in your skirts?" The former would be easy to handle, the latter, well, that would be tricky.

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   Poppy Dashwood

Upon hearing the gentle voice of the man - yes, that was certainly a male’s tenor - she’d latched onto, Poppy couldn’t help but grasp tighter. It was a sweet, comforting voice if vaguely familiar. She didn’t recognize it until she paused long enough in her panic to glance up at his face however, and even then it took a moment for recognition to dawn. Once it did, she gasped. Owen Beauregard, her spider savior from a few years back!

“Oh how embarrassingly dreadful!” she hissed to him under her breath. “I am not always so helpless Mr. Beauregard, I assure you!” Poppy could have wailed from the idea that he thought her such a fragile thing. She was not! Poppy Dashwood was made of sterner stuff, it was just spiders and snakes that found a way to undo her! Unlucky for Mr. Beauregard that he just happened to pass along whenever she most needed him.

It was at that moment that the snake decided to wrap itself around her ankle and Poppy just about collapsed into a sobbing mess. Managing to keep it together only just, the girl lifted one hand from her tight hold of Mr. Beauregard’s broad chest and gestured frantically. “It’s down there!” She explained, unhelpfully, but she wasn’t sure what he meant by in her skirts?! (The very thought pressed a red hot blush against her cheeks.) “Please, can’t you do something?!”

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Owen Beauregard & This, because foreshadowing muahaha

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© Fox

Honestly Owen knew that Miss Dashwood was not some waif of a girl who fainted at the drop of a hat, but their meetings didn't have an amusing sort of pattern to them. Not that he minded, he tended to like being able to play the knight in shining armor when the chance popped up.

Down there was not exactly helpful and she didn't give him much to go on. Not to mention she was clinging to him in a way that didn't give him much range of motion, but if there was indeed a snake under her skirts, he could certainly see why she was so panicked. "Alright, alright, I will get it." It might be highly embarrassing for one of both of them, but he rather thought her need to be rid of the snake overwhelmed her sense of propriety at the moment.

With that assumption in mind, Owen did the only thing he could think of, he promptly lifted Miss Dashwood off the ground, to see if he could find the snake without the mess of fabric in the way. Unfortunately since it was around her ankle, he couldn't exactly see it. "Are you quite sure there's a snake down there, Miss Dashwood?" Maybe it had slithered off already and she hadn't noticed?

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Poppy Dashwood was no damsel in distress. In fact, had she the choice between Mr. Beauregard or June going under her skirts for this, she frankly would have preferred the latter knowing that Juniper would be both efficient and amused. As it was her cheeks were already so flaming red, that it was impossible for her to burn any brighter. When Mr. Beauregard actually lifted her up as effortlessly as he might lift a broom, Poppy about died.

Tiny hands scrunched into the fabric of his clothes to the point where she was determined never to let go. Why oh why had she endeavored to jaunt in this direction in the first place! Mr. Beauregard’s question then made something terrible curl up in Poppy’s stomach and the girl frowned, pointedly, and looked about as shrewish as Poppy Dashwood was likely to ever get. “Yes!” she exclaimed, desperately. Why on Earth would he imagine she might make this up?! “I can feel it curling up my leg!”

Now there was a predicament she didn’t want to imagine. Holding said leg as still as she was able, Poppy hoped not to jostle the snake into a bite. How dreadful that would be to get little fangs sunk into her ankle, or worse, thigh, and need medical attention. Feeling slightly swoon-y at the thought, Poppy felt her lungs constrict in anxiety and her corset suddenly felt too tight.

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Owen Beauregard & This, because foreshadowing muahaha

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© Fox

Owen found Miss Dashwood's grip on him almost laughable, but they he saw the real panic in her eyes and decided that he wouldn't dare laugh until after this was over. "Alright, alright, let me see if I can get it." This was going to be crossing a line certainly, as he was going to have to wind a hand into her petticoats, but as his other was quite securely holding her up and she seemed near hyperventilating, Owen rather thought she wasn't going to mind.

"Just, hold still." It would be best if he could take it by just below its head, but if that was up her leg, that was going to get highly inappropriate for a public place. Perhaps magic would make this go more smoothly. And he wouldn't have to put his hands anywhere that could compromise Miss Dashwood in such a public forum. Retrieving his wand from his pocket, Owen mustered up his concentration (magic was not after all, his strong suit) he made a quick flick of the wand and sought to summon the snake from the layers of skirts and petticoats. 

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As she held onto Mr. Beauregard for dear life, Poppy hoped against hope nobody would find her in such a terribly brazen position. She was entirely in his arms and under any other circumstances, the very thought would be enough to make her reach for a fan! (He was incredibly handsome after all.) Today however, as Mr. Owen Beauregard lifted her like a feather and reached for his wand, Poppy desperately hoped that he could manage to assist! And multitask, she supposed.

“I am holding still,” the brunette tried, watching the wand tip move left and right. There was a gentle flick and then slowly Poppy felt something tingle and tug free from her leg. A breath caught in her throat as the head of the serpent appeared from under her skirts. Turning away in disgust, Poppy settled her free hand gently on the back of Mr. Beauregard’s head. His hair was surprisingly soft and she focused in on it to keep the swirling feeling from her stomach. If her fingers started to card through his locks nervously, it was an unconscious action.

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Owen Beauregard & This, because foreshadowing muahaha

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© Fox

Watching to see if his spell was a success, he saw the head of the snake appear at Miss Dashwood's hems, thankfully on the ground before it made a beeline for somewhere that was not up his company's skirts. Satisfied he'd managed to do the job without dropping Miss Dashwood or making it worse, Owen was momentarily distracted by the sudden feeling of a hand at the back of his head.

She was still clinging on for dear life, but he hadn't anticipated that. "You should now be snake free, Miss Dashwood." Owen had watched it disappear into a nearby garden where it belonged. The gentle reminder she was now safe should have been reason enough to put her down, but it wasn't him that was still holding on tightly at the moment. He was distinctly trying to ignore the feeling of her hand in his hair.

"And hopefully no worse for the wear?" Owen highly suspect he would have known if she'd been bitten or anything more serious like that.

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   Poppy Dashwood

Poppy held tightly to Mr. Beauregard’s head, fingers still carding through his soft locks anxiously. She didn’t realize until he commented that the snake was disposed of and an immense sigh of relief escaped the girl. Releasing her death-like hold on the poor gentleman, Poppy let her hand slide gently to settle on the nape of his neck as she waited for him to set her down. “Oh goodness, thank you,” she gushed, leaning back just enough to level him with a grateful smile.

The proximity of his face to hers, and his face to her… well, bossom, made Poppy blush then. Red heat rose up in her cheeks and stretched all along pale skin. She’d never been quite so intimately familiar with a man before! Merlin above, what a scandal! He was so sweet too, to hoist her up without so much as a care. Poppy felt overwhelmed by gratitude and embarrassment all at once then. Her fingers tangled back into his hair without her realizing.

“Er, thank you,” she said softly again, blush still warm on her features. “Are you sure it’s quite gone?” It wouldn’t do to be replaced on the ground only to face the same fate all over again now would it?

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Owen Beauregard & This, because foreshadowing muahaha

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© Fox

Owen really was a smidge bewildered by his luck and how he always seemed to be getting Miss Dashwood out of trouble. He didn't exactly mind, though he did wish the poor girl didn't have to deal with quite so many creatures. "All gone, I promise." He had seen it scamper off into the greenery nearby.

He moved to put her down, bending down a little more as she had her hands firmly gripping his hair. He cleared his throat, unsure of the feeling settling in the pit of his stomach at the sensation. "Alright then?" He managed, releasing Miss Dashwood back on to her own feet and trying not to smirk too much about it. "You really are a creature magnet aren't you?" He teased lightly, hoping she wasn't too sore about it.

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Poppy released her hold on Mr. Beauregard as he gently bent to set her down. A heated blush scampered across her features like the swipe of a paintbrush, even as she gazed at him gratefully. From this still too close distance she couldn’t help but notice the brown of his eyes in the sunlight. He was… as handsome today as he’d always been. She settled a hand on his arm unconsciously then, gathering her wits, and upon realizing it her blush heated, and the girl took a step away, quickly.

“Ah, so it would seem,” she managed, tucking a stray curl that had come displaced behind her ear. “Thank you, Mr. Beauregard, really and truly.” She offered him a small, embarrassed little smile. “I do promise to keep my creature incidents to myself in the future,” she teased, gently. “I’ll wear out your gallantry all at once otherwise.” Her gaze caught a little on his features again and Poppy laced her fingers tightly together. She couldn’t believe she’d latched onto his hair like that.

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Owen Beauregard & This, because foreshadowing muahaha

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© Fox

Oh, I don't particularly mind." Owen assured Miss Dashwood with a charming smirk. "It is my pleasure. Truly." Really, he didn't mind. Though it was quite humorous, he was sure Miss Dashwood did not think so. Owen didn't want her to think he felt obligated or inconvenienced by their continued run ins. In fact he rather enjoyed them, even if it generally involved him removing creatures from her general vicinity.

"My gallantry knows no bounds, in fact, I would thoroughly enjoy a little promenade to find your chaperon if you will?" He offered his arm with another smile. It was a little forward, sure, but he meant everything in the most harmless manner. Owen might have been a bit of a young gun, a little brash and a little rough around the edges, but he tried to be a gentleman where applicable.

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   Poppy Dashwood

At Mr. Beauregard’s sweet reassurances, Poppy felt herself flush a little. He was being awfully gallant for her sake; she should make sure to indicate to him that she appreciated it. Perhaps she would send him a small note of thanks, maybe even include some bonbons. Accepting the offered arm, the brunette grinned despite herself. “I should very much appreciate that,” she replied, gratefully. Yes, bonbons indeed.

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Owen Beauregard & This, because foreshadowing muahaha

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© Fox