July 2nd, 1891 -  ABC
Augusta Robins

This was a long time coming. Winnie knew for her own sanity she needed to reach out and make time to see her friends. Thank Merlin Gus was generally easy to get ahold of and flexible with times to get together. Winnie's schedule was always all over the place, but she carved out some time around dinner today to make it happen.

The Augurey was a predictable spot to meet, but frankly she liked the food and the company wasn't nearly as stuffy or as shady as some of the other establishments she frequented. In fact tonight it was rather lively with some music and a warm fire burning against the rain coming down outside. All in all it was a good decision. Win had even rewarded herself with a little brandy, just a little, while she waited for Gus to arrive. Food was also on the agenda as she desperately needed to eat. Had she had lunch? That was up in the air. It had been a busy day and she was ready to be off her feet for a little while.

"Oh there she is! Hello darling!" Winnie greeted her friend by standing and pressing a kiss to each cheek before resuming her seat in their little corner booth.

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   Marlena Scamander

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“Win!” Gus exclaimed, once she had barrelled in, shaken off the rain, and greeted her with a broad grin. “Sorry I’m late, did I make it in time?” she gushed, mostly teasing. (Not teasing about being late; in spite of her best efforts, she had never been the most punctual. Or been a natural at reading clocks.) “Right, I need a drink,” she said, sizing up the one Winnie already had to see whether she could sneak her a second before they started on food, “but you promise you won’t dash out on me before I sit down, won’t you?” She raised her eyebrows in warning.

Though she knew what Moony’s job was like, and it was hardly Winnie’s fault. (But Merlin, where did all these expectant mothers come from? Honestly, who was having all these babies? People, apparently, but that whole business was a far cry from the world Gus knew, so. She would not pretend to understand.)

“Well, thank Merlin for that,” Gus added dramatically as she returned to their corner a minute or two later and found Winnie still planted on her chair. Luckily. Gus liked this place well enough, but she didn’t especially want to sit around all night with only her own company.

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Warmed by her friend's appearance and greeting, Winnie could only chuckle and wave off her apology. Neither one of them was very good at timekeeping, though Win rarely had a need for it. "I promise!" She laughed as Gus took off for the bar and came back shortly after to take a seat.

"Barring any emergencies, I'm yours all night." She waggled her eyebrows at her friend playfully. "Been busy, Love?" The pair, though similar in temperament, seemed to live completely different lives, Gus with her quidditch and Winnie with her work, but Win for one was glad they could make time like this to get together. Winnie needed these little outings to stay sane really. She was such a social person that without making time for things like this, all she had was Dory invading her room at the boarding house and though she enjoyed that in many facets, there was nothing quite like chatting with her girlfriends.

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“No emergencies allowed,” Gus pronounced, with a lopsided grin at Winnie’s eyebrow-waggling. She suspected that even when Winnie wasn’t called away by work that she could probably find something or other – or someone – to keep her busy for the night.

Gus sighed, wondering if she was maybe a little jealous about the freedoms of Winnie’s lifestyle. Or of Winnie in general, maybe. Or of everyone she ever met, somehow – she didn’t know why. She was happy with her life, after all. She did what she loved. Had a mother and kind-hearted brother to look out for. People had it far worse than she did. Maybe it was just herself she didn’t always like.

“Oh, yeah, quidditch never stops,” Gus replied, grinning again, “and I never stop making a prat of myself.” She had countless examples of that, but her little flare-up at the quaderash in front of Mr. Ollivander was definitely one. “What about you?” she returned hastily, taking a gulp of her ale.

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Winnnie could only laugh at no emergencies allowed. As if she could control it. The evening should be fine. Her one worry had been what had occupied most of her day and nobody on her current roster should have any troubles tonight. Should being the operative word, but Winnie had faith she would be able to enjoy herself.

"Being busy is by far better than not." Winnie laughed. Quidditch could have been another language to her, but she tried to support her friend as best she could. From what Win had gathered, Gus was good enough at it to make the national team for the World Cup, certainly she was having a smashing time in her regular season. "Oh stop, what have you done now?" The brunette didn't truly believe that her friend could be all that bad at whatever it was she was aiming that self-depreciating comment at.

"Oh you know, it never ends. Keeps me on my toes." She loved it though. Her work fulfilled her and she was never bored, which was a huge factor. Nobody would peg her as the sentimental type, but bringing healthy babies into the world really was a calling and she couldn't imagine doing anything else.

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Winnie sounded like she was ready to admonish her for that, to be the exceptional friend she was and make her be nicer to herself, but Gus didn’t need a barrage of esteem-boosting rebukes. So she just smirked and explained herself lightly, to make a proper joke out of it all. “Oh, you know, getting angry about quidditch, getting angry about being a woman, trying to fistfight ghosts.” She chuckled, although the trouble was, she’d been deadly serious about all of those in the moment. Apparently she had a temper. Who knew. “Just the usual.”

And it sounded like Winnie’s job was very much the usual, too; hell as it always sounded to Gus, it must mean the world to Win. “You think you’ll ever be the one giving birth, or is that too much of a break for you?” Gus teased – or maybe she was asking in genuine curiosity.

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"All the injustices as usual." Winnie could easily sympathize with some of the reasons why Gus might be upset about those things. "But fist fighting ghosts, Cherie, you know better." One of the qualities Winnie admired most about Gus was her guts, but that was foolish and mildly hilarious at the same time.

It was a good thing Win had finished her sip when Gus' next question hit her ears. Otherwise she would have sprayed the table in her mirth. "You have got to be joking," Winnie brought babies in the world, not by her own loins however. "I could as you the same and the question would be almost as equally ridiculous." She teased lightly because she wasn't completely sure Gus wouldn't settle down at some point in her life, but for now, in this moment, it seemed as unlikely as it was for Winnie.

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Gus pulled a face, only half sheepish about it. Sure, she knew better. But in a battle between the things she knew made logical sense and the bursts of uncontrollable, impassioned feeling in her gut, she was quite certain which she was a slave to every time.

And she knew Winnie’s next joking answer made as much logical sense as anything – the question was equally ridiculous: she was a quidditch player and an unmarried spinster (not to mention poor and plain and whatever else dour Jane Eyre and her ilk described themselves as before they found some dashing, equally dour man for themselves in all that fiction) – and this was real life. This was real life, and there was really no hope, if that was even what she was hoping for... but it still produced a pang in her stomach, a little tightened feeling in her chest, to hear it said aloud.

She took an overlong draught of her drink to give herself time to swallow that, and when she resurfaced she was grinning even wider than before. “Oi, no, it’s more ridiculous for me than it is for you,” Gus contested energetically, as though the unlikelihood of motherhood was a badge of honour they were vying for. “You’re in more danger than I am. It’s never rubbed off on you, huh?” She waggled her eyebrows, as if spending time with mothers-to-be and all those newborns was contagious. And then there was the fact that at least Win had romantic exploits to speak of. Gus wouldn’t even know where to start.

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Winnie held her expression behind her glass, peering at her friend casually, as if she hadn't caught whatever it was that Gus wasn't saying. Of course she didn't know for sure if Gus had sworn off settling down like Winnie had, it hadn't exactly come up in seriousness, only in jest like they were right now, but perhaps her friend wasn't completely against it.

"It's nice to pass them off to people who have time for them." Winnie joked. She loved babies and children, but she also liked her free time and her independence. "I can't imagine continuing to work in this field with one of my own, but maybe some day." She shrugged. She had Dory had joked about it, but who knew if it would ever amount to anything. It was highly unlikely. She was already a spinster who was very dedicated to her job. "I suppose nothing is really ruled out," She said for herself and for Gus. "Don't you think?" The curiosity couldn't be helped.

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She felt, at this juncture, that maybe Winnie knew her a little too well. There was something in her look, or the slight questioning afterthought, that was prodding at it – gently enough, but Gus still regretted saying anything.

Or not saying anything. What could she say out loud, though? Don’t you ever get lonely like I do, or do you worry about what your life will be like later, when you don’t have a family, don’t have anyone – or maybe I want it but no one would ever look at me twice or something else sad and self-pitying like that? Gus felt her tongue shrivel up at the thought of it, shuddering at the concept of coming across as sad and pathetic and miserable, because she liked her life, she loved it, and she made sure everyone knew it. She refused to be pitied for it.

And if either of them did have children one day, work would have to come second, so. “No, you’re right,” Gus acknowledged, shrugging with her elbows on the table to make it more exaggerated, more casual, and grinned wide to prove it. “Work comes first. Maybe after my career is over, though,” she said, twisting her smile towards wryness to show she was joking, “if I’m not too old. I’ll need something to do with myself, you know.” (But she had no plans to retire any time soon, so that was that, she probably would be far too old to be a wife or a mother – and besides, Witch Weekly seemed sure that female quidditch players had even more difficulty with pregnancies to begin with. It was a non-starter, really.)

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"As long as you're happy, Love," Winnie encouraged. That was the crutch of it after all. Winnie fully believed in doing what made you happy as long as you weren't hurting anyone else. "And if we are too old, we can buy a house and get a few creatures to keep us busy." Of course Winnie's profession didn't generally have an expiration on it like Gus' did. There was nothing stopping her working in the same field until she physically couldn't handle it anymore. She wasn't sure exactly how much longer Gus had, but she wondered if there were any quidditch players who were in their thirties these days.

"It's good to have a backup plan, just in case." She winked at her friend and raised her glass to that.

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Well, god bless Winnie. It scarcely mattered whether she meant it or not; it was reassuring to hear, all the same. And, if worst came to worst – well, or life continued on the path it was on – Gus supposed she couldn’t complain if she had a house, or a pet, or a good friend or two to count on. At least Winnie was that: Winnie was a necessary staple of her life, so Gus musn’t have done too badly after all.

Buy a house on my salary? She almost joked, but she decided she’d already done too much self-pity for one evening. Best to move on.

“Well, here’s to fantastic backup plans!” Gus said instead, raising her glass in answer with a merry little snort. “And food. I fancy some food, for sure.”

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wrap?

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   Elsie Kirke

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