September 10th, 1894 - High Street
Emmett didn't frequent Hogsmeade much anymore, but rather thought he ought to at least show his face at his mother's house every once in a while, lest she show up at the ministry to ensure he was indeed, alive and well. He had gotten out of work and left via the Hogsmeade entrance, but was a little early and he didn't want to show up and give his mother too much time to fawn and worry over him. It was a little bit too much these days. He had reached an age and position in life where he could start looking for a wife, and she had seen to his attendance this season, but Em would be the first to admit he was glad that was over for the year and he could focus on quidditch instead.
He had stopped at the Florist Potts to kill some time and pick up three bouquets, one for his mother and one for each of his sisters, hoping to win their favor. He could be a bit of a schmooze when he wanted to and if it got his siters to help with his mother, the better for it. Whichever pretty Potts lady it was behind the till today had put together three lovely bouquets, all somehow cohesive, yet different and frankly Emmett didn't know what he was looking at, but they were sure to be enjoyed by the women in his family. He said as much as he was heading out, waving as he stepped out onto the street. He checked his pocket watch and debated stopping by the sweetshop as well, but ultimately decided against it. If he strolled leisurely, it wouldn't be egregiously early and he could survive.
Setting out toward Wellingtonshire and his parents' estate, Emmett cradled the flowers close to his chest. As he rounded the fountain near the crossroads, he saw a young woman and on a whim, pulled one of the lilies (he thought?) from the top bouquet, careful not to upset it too much and held it out with a smile. "A little pick-me-up?"
He had stopped at the Florist Potts to kill some time and pick up three bouquets, one for his mother and one for each of his sisters, hoping to win their favor. He could be a bit of a schmooze when he wanted to and if it got his siters to help with his mother, the better for it. Whichever pretty Potts lady it was behind the till today had put together three lovely bouquets, all somehow cohesive, yet different and frankly Emmett didn't know what he was looking at, but they were sure to be enjoyed by the women in his family. He said as much as he was heading out, waving as he stepped out onto the street. He checked his pocket watch and debated stopping by the sweetshop as well, but ultimately decided against it. If he strolled leisurely, it wouldn't be egregiously early and he could survive.
Setting out toward Wellingtonshire and his parents' estate, Emmett cradled the flowers close to his chest. As he rounded the fountain near the crossroads, he saw a young woman and on a whim, pulled one of the lilies (he thought?) from the top bouquet, careful not to upset it too much and held it out with a smile. "A little pick-me-up?"