24 August 1892 — Somewhere in France
@"Marie-Louise Skovgaard"

The plan had been for her to have the day off, but she had gotten pulled away the very last minute on a case that Faustus couldn't bear to tug her away from. And so after a quick conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Bagshot (he'd had to practically dive head first into the Floo to avoid being seen by Marie as she came down for breakfast), the plans had been moved to today.

Thank Merlin Mrs. Bagshot had the same proclivity for machinations as his mother or aunt Hermione. Going to Marie's guardians to ask them permission to marry her had been the hard part; (after the Bagshots had finished embracing him joyously) proposing the plan had been like lighting canon fodder. Kind Mrs. Bagshot had been tasked with making sure she would be ready in time for them to leave, however Faustus had made her promise that she would let Marie wear what she wanted to wear. Merlin forbid Marie felt strong-armed into this entire thing. Though he'd wanted to make this a special occasion, the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel as if she were being dressed up as a doll and made to act out some play.

So it was with his heart in his throat that Faustus stood in the foyer, hat under his arm as he heard Mr. and Mrs. Bagshot bustling down the hallway; a third set of footsteps told him Marie was likely with them. As soon as they rounded a corner, he gave her a grin and winked at her.

---

  

It was unusual for Mrs. Bagshot to intervene in Malou's plans for the day beyond nagging her to attend this dinner or that party. But this morning Mrs. Bagshot had bustled into Malou's room shortly after Malou had risen with grand plans for the day. What those plans were Malou wasn't quite sure, she wasn't quite awake enough to try to figure them out. Something about a picnic? Or maybe a carriage ride? Maybe it wasn't that Malou was tired, but perhaps simply that Mrs. Bagshot was being vague?

In any case Malou allowed her godmother to bustle around her and decided it was not worth it to fight her. Whatever it was Mrs. Bagshot had in mind she quite clearly was not allowing Malou to beg off from. "What about the green gown?" Mrs. Bagshot asked, looking through Malou's gowns. "Or, oh, this lilac one." Malou was only half listening as the maid worked on her hair.

In the end Malou decided on her favorite day dress. It was simple in design in a gorgeous light blue, with accents of lace as its only flourishes. She would have preferred to wear robes, but of what she could garner from Mrs. Bagshot's plans they were to be social and Malou had long ago lost the arguement to wear robes when one was being social.

While Malou ate breakfast in the dining room, Mrs. Bagshot had gone to speak with her husband. Although the moment Malou was finished Mrs. Bagshot was ushering them to the door declaring it was simply too beautiful a day to dwaddle. Malou followed along amused by her godmother's antics, every once in a while she got like this, but it was rare enough that Malou hated to object and ruin the good mood.

Entering the parlor though she was surprised to see Mr. Prewett, hat under his arm waiting for them. There was a grin on his face and then he winked at her. Confusion passed over Malou's face and part of her suddenly didn't want to go on this outing of Mrs. Bagshot's. If given the option between that and Mr. Prewett she'd much rather spend the time with Faustus.

"Good morning, Mr. Prewett." Malou's quiet voice seemed more in contrast with the boisterious voice Mrs. Bagshot had been speaking in all morning (indeed most days) then ever. "I'm afraid you've caught us just as we were heading out." There was a slight frown on her lips at this, and she wondered if he could see the regret in her eyes. Perhaps Mrs. Bagshot would relent now and not force Malou along? Or perhaps she might insist Mr. Prewett come along. She did, after all, seem to be doing everything she could to ensure a match between the two.

  

---

Even over the echoes of the other voices in the foyer — the Bagshots, their butler and a few servants milling about them — Faustus still found her voice clear as day as she caught sight of him. He watched as she frowned at him in confusion, likely wondering why he had shown up when it had been made clear by Mrs. Bagshot that there wasn't a moment to be lost.

His stomach flipped over even more as he realized she thought he'd shown up unannounced in the middle of a busy day. He grinned again. Good. At least that told him the Bagshots were quite good at keeping secrets when they wanted to. If Marie thought he'd simply decided to show up, then she certainly wouldn't see the rest of the day coming. Hopefully that was a good thing - it only occurred to him just now that he hadn't been sure about her position where surprises were concerned.

It was too late now, however. Shoving that seed of doubt away from his mind, Faustus nodded in agreement as they approached. He held out his free arm for her to take if she wished. "It appears I have caught you on your way out." He agreed easily. "You're right on time, it seems."

---

  

Instead of a frown on his lips at her words Faustus grinned. Malou's brow crinkled in confusion at this, surprised by his last of concern. Indeed, his reaction was very much the opposite of what she had expected and Mrs. Bagshot hadn't stopped in her path for the door after her own greeting to Mr. Prewett.

Malou followed her godmother, coming up next to Mr. Prewett who extended his arm to her. She took it, completely at a lose of what to do in this situation as it seemed that Mrs. Bagshot had simply accepted Mr. Prewett as part of the party. Mr. Bagshot nodded his greeting to the other man before following his wife.

Faustus hardly seemed concerned at the bustle around him. But it was that final statement he made that really made Malou wonder at what was going on. She was on time? For what? "Oh?" The question came out softly as her eyes looked up at his to see just what he meant by that. She hadn't known they had plans today, she was quite certain of this. As busy as she was she knew each and every time they were supposed to see each other, she looked forward to them and cherished them. Surely she couldn't have forgotten something in the absense of her day off?

  

---

Total and utter confusion — he hoped he wasn't overwhelming her, and as she took his arm, he quickly put on his hat as they walked to the doorstep and laid his now free hand over hers. Mr. and Mrs. Bagshot walked ahead of them, down the steps and to the nearby carriage that was awaiting them. It was at this point that Faustus ached to simply lean over and whisper to her exactly what they were here to do, to let her in on the plan so that they might be conspirators together in this. But then that would simply defeat the whole purpose of the plan, and he wanted to see her genuine reaction to his plan; and, more importantly, if she would approve of it.

"Indeed!" He said with another wide grin as he briskly led her down the stairs and to the carriage. But before they approached, once they were at the gate, he paused, his hand on the iron to look down at her solemnly, searching her expression. "Do you trust me?" He murmured, his own expression softening. He wanted to draw her in to kiss her, but no such action would be acceptable in public - at least not yet. If it all went according to plan he would be free to show her as much affection as he could.

---

  

Faustus, Mr. and Mrs. Bagshot, they were all acting as if this were all perfectly normal, which left Malou feeling as if she ought to just go with it. It was an usual feeling for Malou, so used to being on her own as she had been, but she allowed him to lead her down the stairs, baffled at the whole thing.

Ahead of them Mr. and Mrs. Bagshot had gotten into the carriage but Faustus stopped her at the gates. For the first time since she had spotted him in the entry way his face was serious. Malou looked up at him, headed tilted ever so slightly to the side in an unspoken question. But then there it was.

"Of course." Sincerity laced her words, her own gaze serious. Time and again Faustus had proven to her he could be trusted and if she were quite honest, next to Fallon, she didn't think she trusted anyone as much as she trusted the man before her.

  

---

It was all he needed to hear; the words were wonderful and filled him with a renewed energy and hope that she would enjoy their day — grinning again (there would be a lot of that today, he supposed), Faustus opened the gate to allow her to cross through before he closed it behind them. As he walked to the carriage, one of his footmen moved to open the door for her; with a flick of his hand, Faustus sent the footman to the back of the carriage, reaching for the handle to open the door and help her in where Mr. and Mrs. Bagshot were already situated.

Once he helped her in and closed the door, they were off, and Faustus was glancing at his pocket watch — right on time.

Putting it back, he turned to smile at Marie whilst Mr. aand Mrs. Bagshot chatted amongst themselves. "I heard you had quite a busy day yesterday at the hospital. I hope everything settled itself in the end?" He didn't wish to bring back any sort of worries she might have about a patient, but he did want to make sure she hadn't had too rough of a day. He knew how it weighed on her if she had a particularly gruelling case.

---

  

There was that bright smile again, this one she could understand, her own lips slipped up into an echoing smile. Whatever was going on, Malou realized, and she was beginning to realize something was going on, she would be alright because she would be with Faustus.

As they stepped up to the carriage Faustus waved the footman away and helped her up himself, the warmth of his hand comforting even through her gloves, his steady grip keeping her from slipping.

In a moment Malou was seated across from Mrs. Bagshot, Fastus taking the seat next to her. It surprised her that Mrs. Bagshot would allow such a thing, but then again, Mrs. Bagshot had been trying every trick in the book since Malou had, in her words, caught Mr. Prewett's eye this past fall. Whatever the reason, Malou was grateful for it, for his reassuring presense next to her, the selfish awareness of his leg so near her's, his ability to speak to her without drawing too much attention from the other carriage occupants.

Next to her Faustus pulled out his pocket watch and she found herself wondering if this had been his plan, or if he had somehow just joined Mrs. Bagshot's outing without much to do. Or had Mrs. Bagshot cooked up the idea to invite him as a surprise for her? In any case it seemed quite likely that Mrs. Bagshot had expected Fautus whereas Malou had not.

A look of surprise crossed Malou's face. She knew sometimes that Faustus found out about her work through members of his team, sometimes through Fallon, but mainly through Malou's own letters and their visits. But given that there hadn't been any aurors in her ward yesterday, nor had she had a chance to write to either Fallon or Faustus, she was surprised that he would know. Again it felt as if perhaps she didn't know the entirety of what was going on but that perhaps Faustus did. And that, she suspected was why he had asked her if she trusted him.

"I did." She murmured in agreement, "They ended up calling me in on my day off, but we were able to settle things by midday." She paused for a moment, wondering just how much he truly wanted to hear, he always did seem genuinely interested though. "Someone thought to charm a school room of children purple. There were too many children for the staff so they called a few of us in from the Charms ward to help out. Thankfully it was nothing more serious."

  

---

It pleased him to see the look of surprise on her face. He liked the way her cheeks flushed, as if it were the last thing in the world that she'd expect him to be interested in her work; and yet he knew it was the single most important thing to her — of course it would be given how after she'd stayed in the wreckage of the Ivy Leaf at Valentine's Day. If it meant the world to her, then Faustus would certainly learn to care about it as much as she did. Or at least care about how passionate she was, given that there was a reason he hadn't gone into healing and had opted for detective work instead. He knew how to enjoy a mystery and enjoy feeling fulfilled by life's work, and that was what mattered to him.

So it was with rapt attention to her story that he listened with delight - at least she had not gotten called away to something much more gruesome, though Faustus was sure he would have caught wind of it had that been the case.

The idea of children being charmed purple, though...Faustus had to laugh at the image of the group of children matching the color of Iris's room's curtains. "Thankfully so," He said, still chortling as the carriage rolled on. "That must have been quite a story the children got to go home to tell their parents!" If Iris or Edelweiss or Mezereon had come home covered head to toe in purple...he continued laughing at the idea of it. He couldn't decide if Iris would be delighted or horrified by it. Certainly Edelweiss would be horrified, while Mezereon would likely want to stay that shade of purple for the next week or so.

---

  

One of the things that Malou loved about Faustus was the way he listened when she spoke. She had spent years terrified of going into the social circles that Mrs. Bagshot wished she would simply because she hadn't expected to find any man suitable in her godmother's eyes that would accept her career. Yet Faustus had never seemed to have any qualms about it, indeed, when he listened it was much the same way as it was right now. With his full attention and not even the vagueist impression that he didn't approve of her career.

"Indeed." She agreed thinking of the children's excitement as they had been returned to normal. The few parents that had arrived were less than pleased. "Although I doubt their parents will appreciate the experience as much as some of the children." Malou admitted, wondering how Faustus would have felt if one of his children had been in the mix.

  

---

In truth, if one of the children came home with such an affliction, his staff would likely drive themselves to madness trying to undo it before ultimately failing and dressing them up the best they could for dinner. Such occurrences were par for the course when it came to living amongst magic-folk and there was usually a remedy for it. Faustus figured he'd still get a bit of a laugh from it all. "Were it me, I think I'd find it amusing before I worried that it might be permanent!" He replied, but giving her a knowing look. "However in your capable hands, I'm sure they'd be set to rights in no time."

Before he could say much further — much less correct the unintended (but much desired) implication that she would be present should his children ever come home in shades of varying colors of the rainbow — the carriage came to a halt and Faustus glanced outside. "Here we are," He announced, getting up to open the carriage door. Donning his hat, he got out and held open the door for the rest of the occupants. His hand came out, ready to escort Marie down from the carriage where she would see a modest flower store in front of her. He intended to let her browse amongst the bouquets before picking out one she liked best.

---

  

His assurance in her skills made Malou smile gently in return. It meant a lot to her that he would trust his children to her in such a case. She hated the thought of having children in her ward, any children, and yet the thought that Faustus might worry less if they were in her ward with her, it warmed her. He trusted her skills, knew she was capable - even with what had happened in June (the very memory which still left her doubting herself and worried over him).

A moment later the carriage rolled to a stop and Fautus - not Mrs. Bagshot or her husband - announced they were there. So it was his plan. Or at least it was certainly beginning to feel like it. Mrs. Bagshot ushered Malou out of the carriage before them and Faustus's capable grip helped her down. She glanced up at him with a smile before taking in their surroundings.

A small flower shop was in front of them, she was unsure why this was their destination, but she waited patiently as the older couple followed her out onto the sidewalk.

Malou longed to lean over and whisper to Faustus, to inquire what he was up to, but with her godmother and Mr. Bagshot between them there was no discreet way to do that. So instead she looked at Fautus and tried not to look terribly confused.

  

---

There had been a reason why Faustus picked this particular flower store, which, of course, wouldn't turn out to be just any old flower store. Brightly colored flowers spilled from every corner of the store, laced with various greenery and small berries — there was even some mistletoe for sale at the counter. But that wasn't why Faustus had wanted to bring her here, of course - far from it, actually. This store happened to be one that particularly imported flowers from all over the world — including ones from Denmark.

They had about 5 minutes to shop around until their portkey activated. Just enough time for Faustus to purchase her some flowers. Stepping forward, he held out his arm once more to beckon her into the shop. "Why don't you take a look around?" He suggested, a twinkle in his eye as he looked around the shop once more.

---

  

Accepting Faustus's outstretched arm, Malou let him lead her into the florist shop. The moment they stepped through the door she could smell the flowers. It was like stepping into one of the fields of wild flowers back home, the ones that snuck between the forests she had grown up around.

Looking up at Faustus's gaze again Malou saw how light hearted he looked. So different from the serious man she had grown use to. But then again he had been smiling more lately. She gave him a smile and nodded her head looking around the store as they stepped deeper inside.

Everywhere she looked she could see flowers of all varieties. Not just those she had seen in the greenhouses at Hogwarts or the gardens of the English. No there were flowers she had seen from Germany as a child, and over there were tulips from the Netherlands. But then Malou stopped in her tracks, her eyes lighting on a boquet with purple Danish orchids, pale pink roses, daises, and sprigs of red helleborine in shades of purplish pink. It was like looking at her childhood again. Her mother had loved roses, but her father, he had loved Danis orchids that grew in the marshlands. They weren't terribly common but they were beautiful to behold. Then there had been the fields of daises and red helleboinre that grew across her homeland.

It had been a life time since she had last seen a Danish orchid, or as the servants called them - cuckoo herbs. Her mother had always had tried to have vases around the house with them displayed combined with roses. The fragerance had filled all of Malou's days and had become a scent she missed in the years she had spent in England. It was the smell of home, the smell of her parents.

"Gogeurt." She breathed as she unconciously stepped toward the flowers. "Look, Faustus," She drew them closer to the flowers, the smell of her childhood reaching up to embrace them as they stepped forward. "These grew near our house in Denmark." She explained, "Father loved them." She reached out to touch the delicate petals. "Mother use to have the servants pair them with roses when they made the arrangements for the house." Her quiet voice had a faraway quality to it as she remembered those days, remembered the love she had felt, the home that no longer was.

How she wished she could take Faustus back to her home with her, to show him all the things she loved. But that home wasn't the same anymore, a home was defined by the people inside not only the structure one had grown up in. Her home was merely a homesickness for a place that had ceased to exist when her parents had died.

  

---

Though he let her walk ahead of him, he could still see the moment she realized what she was looking at; flowers from her childhood that spilled from containers and vases, that filled the air with the most delicate yet powerful perfume. The moment she spoke of one of the flowers (he presumed, since he unfortunately knew very little of her mother tongue), Faustus grinned even more at the lovely lilt her voice took on. And even more as she beckoned him to come closer, which he obliged all too willingly, peering over her shoulder, eager to see the flowers from her perspective. To him, they were quite lovely, but they held little meaning to him, something he lamented as he'd come across this shop in the first place.

But to her, he knew they would mean something much more, and he had found himself wanting to know what. Gogeurt and roses: they would likely prove to be a beautiful combination of flower, and Faustus took note of them as he perused. Over his shoulder he glanced at the shop hand who had been paying particular close attention to the flowers she'd mentioned, and the ones she seemed most drawn to.

His attention, however, was drawn back to her as he noted the slight shift in tone as she spoke of her family. It was somewhat sad and melancholy; something that while Faustus couldn't relate, he knew what it was like to remember on the sweet times that had been lost to the past. "They're quite lovely, Marie," He murmured, reaching out to pull out a small bunch. "Why don't we take some with us?" Just a small bouquet; there would be time later to admire them more.

---

  

It was almost jarring to hear her English name when her memories were flooded with thoughts of Denmark. But it reminded her not only of what had been, but what was. Faustus for instance. And Fallon. And the woman she had grown into. She might never be able to return to her childhood, but she could enjoy her life as it was now.

"Oh-" Honestly Malou wasn't sure what she had been about to say, but the sight of him gathering the flowers stopped her words before they could spill over her lips. Instead a dreamy smile slid over her lips. "Thank you." She murmured instead, feeling grateful to have this reminder of her parents, her home, but also a new memory to connect the flowers to - Faustus. She met his gaze, wanting to lean in and kiss him, but hoping instead that her words held enough weight for him to understand how deep felt her sentiment was.

  

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