22nd June, 1894 — Fairtree Farm Anniversary Celebration, Avalon Glen

Mattie and her father were not residents of the Glen, but they had been guests (well, “guest researcher”, in her father’s case) at the Yarwoods’ and Avalon Glen regularly enough in the last year or so that they both felt quite at ease here. (Well, her father felt at ease in his own way.)

For her part, Mattie had allowed herself to be chivvied into some of the Glynn girls’ company to catch up on gossip and chat – and although this was a celebration, it was far enough from the other events of the Season she had experienced since May that it all felt entirely relaxing. Quaint and homely, in a peculiar country way. She had bought a glass of sparkling apple juice from the refreshment stalls, and had been perching on a low fence with the girls, eventually losing interest in their conversation and choosing to people-watch instead.

“Mr. Orpington, isn’t it?” she called out boldly to a passing face (one she recognised and was, admittedly, a little intrigued by). “The dragonkeeper?” Not one of the ones she had ever spoken to previously; he had been harder to engage with. But she hoped that here and now, whilst he was not working, she would be able to catch his attention.

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Dominic Orpington/Philomena Sprout

  

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The amount of people at the Glen this weekend was not an enormous amount by any standards. But it was still more which meant Dominic had astronomic desires to make himself scarce by the time the festivities were in full swing. At the very least, he stayed away from the newcomers of the crowd while still visiting those whom he’d needed to have a chat with. Shadow, on the other hand, was content to be stopped as often as possible; many of the village children scampered over to the gigantic Pyrenees to pet him, and Dominic was content to leave him be. He’d catch up when he felt like it.

One of the residents had a fence that needed repairing; an elder woman by the name of Mrs. O’Malley whose magic was not what it used to be, and Dominic had offered to come over and help not only repair but completely rebuild it. After leaving Mrs. O’Malley seated comfortably and happily sipping on some lemonade, Dom slung his jacked over his shoulder and made his way to the outskirts of the festivities. Of course, not before he heard his name being called by a vaguely familiar voice, and he turned to see who had interrupted his escape.

He recognized her, that was for sure, but he knew she didn’t actually live in the Glen; just visited frequently enough that her face wasn’t a complete unknown, but infrequently that Dominic had never actually talked directly to her. “Yes,” He replied, pausing and eyeing the company she was with. He gave quick nods to the Glenn girls he knew, his gaze returning to the girl who spoke. They were not an intimidating bunch, but the girl seemed to have an air about her that warned Dominic this would not be a quick interaction. Best skip straight to the point then. “Can I help you?”

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He seemed annoyed or exasperated already, at her interrupting of his trudging – but, perversely, that hardly deterred her from wanting to prod at him. He couldn’t help her – she didn’t need help – but she felt it a challenge of sorts, and didn’t mind if she irritated him about it. He was an enigma, and she had always been too curious for her own good.

“Matilda Farris,” she introduced herself, hopping smoothly off the fence to meet him face on, so that it would be even ruder if he walked away from her now. “I hear you’re a rather difficult man to pin down,” she commented airily, not explaining herself any further. If he wasn’t stupid, he would connect the dots from Farris to the magizoologist researcher. (Her father had made it his business to interview most of the dragonkeepers about the dragons and their work on the reserve, and Mattie had personally organised enough of his notes and heard enough of his complaints firsthand to know much of the gossip, and had gleaned that Mr. Orpington was not a man of many words.)

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She was direct. Though it’d have likely been seen as unladylike in Hogsmeade, up here in the Glen it was hardly something to blink at; so he stared at her unblinkingly, eyebrows raised. “Well, you’ve pinned me down Miss Farris.” In a small place like this, he didn’t have to wonder if she was related to ——— Farris. Though Dom hadn't said much to Farris, he seemed an interesting man who was passionate and dedicated about his research into magical creatures. And for that, Dom couldn’t fault him for.

A deep bark drew Dom’s attention to his left and he saw Shadow loping to catch up with him. Soon the gigantic dog had approached not him but Miss Farris, sniffing the air as if to gauge if she was friendly enough to drool on.

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Mattie just smiled brightly at him, pretending to be oblivious to his stare. “Good,” she said, matter-of-factly. “You might have spoken to my father before,” she acknowledged, and then – this was a blatant lie, but she had no qualms using it to worm her way into conversations, and indulging her curiosity (particularly when the people in question were attractive men) – added, “But I’ve been assisting him, with some follow-up interviews of my own.”

A free pass to be irritating, Mattie fancied – but she had gone no further with this and he had not had time to protest when they were joined by a much keener party. “Well, hello there,” she cooed, carelessly setting aside her drink in order to pet the dog more thoroughly, scratching its head and behind its ears. “Aren’t you lovely?”

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Dom’s brows raised slightly, indicating his surprise. Farris hadn’t mentioned anything about follow-up interviews. Frankly, he felt that Farris had gotten all of the information he needed and then some. Dom watched with indifference as the friendly familiar gladly leaned into Miss Farris, his tail wagging back and forth. It wasn’t much of a surprise seeing as the great beast would try and cuddle a dragon if his protective instincts didn’t tell him they were predators. “Follow-up interviews,” Dom echoed, nudging the conversation along. He didn’t begrudge Shadow for stealing the focus but the more he felt the eyes of Miss Farris’ friends on him, the more eager he was to leave and have this be done with. “About the properties of dragon dung.” He fixed her with a stare, his features carefully neutral as he searched to see if she truly knew the details of his last encounter with her father.

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   Elias Grimstone

He had caught her out, Mattie knew this as soon as he mentioned dragon dung. But – fortunately, she was still petting the dog, eyes cast down at it – there was no need for her to let on about that, was there?

“Well, not quite,” she said sweetly, with an innocent smile as she straightened up. Somehow it was more fun that he had seen through her already; he was not just a pretty face. “My father’s research focus is the creatures,” she explained, holding her ground, “while mine is the more human side of dragon-keeping. You know, for context.” She glanced at the other girls impassively, and as if they were not there, Mattie returned her gaze, eyebrows raised, to him. “We can walk, if you prefer.” While they talked.

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He’d called her bluff, he knew it; but she was too distracted by Shadow for him to really tell from her expression. And yet, even though he’d caught her, she still continued somehow. With his jacket still slung over his shoulder, Dominic sighed. His feet hurt and he wanted to go home, read a book and have a nice cup of tea. But apparently that was too much to ask for today. Instead of having one Shadow to accompany him on his way, he’d have two.

He frowned. Held her gaze for a few seconds. When she stood her ground, he sighed again. There seemed to be no getting rid of her.

With a sharp whistle, he summoned Shadow to his side before turning around. He presumed he didn’t have to tell Miss Farris to follow; she just would. And if she didn’t, then his afternoon would just get that much better.

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Well, that exasperated sigh of his was just charming, wasn’t it? If Mattie hadn’t been amused, she might have been offended – but in spite of his exasperation, his sigh seemed to be an avowal of defeat. And Mattie could work with that.

His dog went to heel, quick on his whistle; Mattie tilted her head, eyes narrowing a little as he turned his back on her, but she strode forwards anyway, determined to keep in step with him no matter how long his legs were or how stubbornly he wanted to be gone from the festivities. If anyone cared to notice, they might wonder where they were going – and that, Mattie could scarcely answer; she was content to let him lead where they walked, so long as she got to please herself at the same time – but, on the other hand, at least Orpington was more of a society name than most people here. If she had an escort anywhere in the Glen, this Mr. Orpington would do quite as well as anyone.

(She thought his profession was a little unglamorous for someone from a comfortable family, so she had to wonder what had drawn him here. Well, dragonkeeping, presumably... but why?)

They had walked for a few moments already, and he had said nothing else. Mattie let the silence settle for a while, just to prove that she could, that she was in no hurry, and would not tire so fast of his reticence. (He could not be so bad as the Head Dragonkeeper that her father had complained of often; apparently, according to Mr. Farris, no one could be as bad as that.) “So,” Mattie declared inquisitively, tucking a loosening strand of hair back behind her ear in the breeze, “What made you decide to work here? Or,” she added innocently (mischievously), “are dragons just particularly drawn to the strong and silent type?”

See, she was all just academic curiosity here.

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Dominic didn’t have to wait long to figure out if Miss Farris would catch up to him or not. Sure enough, the noises of footsteps sounded behind him and he heard (and felt) her fall into step next to him. Well, that was settled, wasn’t it? He wanted to exit the festivities with just one Shadow and instead he came away with two. His Shadow, the giant livestock dog, was extremely pleased to have a second attendee on their little hike, and made a low woofing sound before looking up at Miss Farris and sidling up to her as they walked.

Dominic, for his part, stayed silent. Frankly he had expected her to start chattering away again; he’d just met her but something told him she didn’t stay quiet for long. So perhaps it was with partial curiosity that he let the noises of their surroundings provide the soundtrack to their walk, just to see how long she could go. And of course, she eventually did speak, and rather authoritatively so, as if she had timed out exactly how long there would be silence before the talking would resume.

Her question wasn’t extremely nosy by any means, but if she wanted the full answer, she was going to be sorely disappointed. Besides, if she was a research assistant, that information was easy enough to find. He sighed as they made their way over a bridge with a few slats loose. “I thought you - watch your step - I thought you were a research assistant, shouldn’t you already know why I came to work here?” He challenged, though his response held little contempt or malice to it. “And dragons are usually tend to leave alone whoever is the calmest and quietest, so take that as you will.”

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A small part of Mattie regretted forcing this interaction at all, for it was hard work – every sentence out of him was like pulling teeth. At least the large dog seemed to like her well enough. It was nice to have some appreciation of her presence.

She tsked airily at his retort about her research. (There was, of course, no world in which any of what she was interested in would make it into her father’s magizoology reports.) But he was talking to her now, so that had served its purpose well enough as an in, believed or unbelieved. “Did you know that occasionally in a conversation people may inquire about things they already know?” Mattie said teasingly, reaching out to hold onto his sleeve at his convenient warning about the bridge (and perhaps to put him off, a little, to show him she was not deterred). “To show some polite interest,” she explained, part-sarcastically (he did not care much for politeness, as far she could see), “or to give someone a chance to tell the story in their own words? I may have the facts already,” she pointed out – if she wanted to discover these things, she could have recited to him the year he had started, and what duties he had on the reserve, and something about an old broken betrothal, and so on – “or society’s side, but I thought you might like to elaborate. Or,” Mattie added, with a small smirk and a playful, threatening gleam in her eyes, “I suppose you would rather listen to me tell your life story? Because I expect you came here to run away from something.”

What exactly, she hadn’t yet decided. His family, maybe, or rather the expectations society held at large? He wasn’t a local to the Glen, born and bred like some of the keepers here; and he had evidently had a Hogwarts education, and was from a comfortable family – he could have had an entirely different career. Did he have a deathwish, and was that what particularly had thrown him into the embrace of dragons? Or was he just so bad with people that creatures had been the only way?

And it wouldn’t change anything else, Mattie knew, whether he told her about himself or not, but the fact remained she was curious, and keen to satisfy her curiosity whatever it took. And if he hadn’t realised it yet, he would soon see she enjoyed a challenge.

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He’d held his arm out out of habit, though he should have supposed she would take it if her overly friendly attitude was anything to go by. Didn’t she have other people on the Glen to bother at this time? Why did she have to attach herself to him, he was wondering, but then Shadow gave a well timed boof at her side as if admonishing him for his begrudging thoughts. And of course, Miss Farris was still prattling on. And then she voiced her assumptions and he stiffened, his gaze cutting to her.

This. This was why he’d moved away from the city, away from prying eyes and any chance of someone guessing his affliction or anything close to it and outing him to the entire world. Too many people were too curious for their own good. She was too curious by half; a quarter even, and short of clapping a hand over her mouth, Dominic didn’t know how to make her stop. A spell would do the trick, but he doubted that would have made her mind stop spinning outrageous stories.

Stick to as close to the truth as you can, his mind told him, and he sighed for the umpteenth time that afternoon. She was still holding onto his sleeve. Caught between not wanting to be rude and wanting his arm back, Dominic drew it closer to his person in hopes she might opt for distance between them rather than hold on. “Take your pick. An overbearing father who hated my career choice or - unbeknownst to me - a betrothed whom I did not know nor love.” Not to mention a family curse that could take root at any moment if he killed someone.

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   Matilda Farris

Her father had long since given up on angry looks like that – his cutting, disapproving glares had ceased to work on her at about nine years old, when she had learned imperviousness to them and he had always softened eventually in response. Mattie assumed she could achieve the same effect with anyone, so long as she did not seem bothered by the attempt.

And Mr. Orpington was – feigning or being – grumpy about it, but see, he was still giving her a little of what she wanted. She smiled. “So I must decide if you are more a rebel, or a romantic,” Mattie replied, with a hum of consideration. Both, perhaps, but something must have spurred him more.

Regardless of which was true – she leaned in, casually conspiratorial. “As someone who knows all about overbearing fathers, and who hasn’t much patience for romantics, I hope it’s the former.” He would be far less fun for her if all she was letting herself in for was hearing him mope about wanting love.

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