November 3rd, 1894 - Greengrass Residence

How Noah had gotten wrapped up into being the errand boy today he had no idea. Surely his mother would have rather done it? Still, He had dropped something off to Delilah and the children earlier and now he was sitting in Jemima's parlor feeling wholly out of place and fidgety. It felt weird that she lived here with the entirety of the Greengrass family, but he supposed that with two unmarried sisters still, this was where they ought to be. Honestly he wasn't sure how that all worked and he was hoping in a year or so, he would be able to find himself a place to rent instead of being under his mother's constant supervision. It wasn't as bad as he made it out to be, Noah just wanted the room to spread out and tinker to his heart's content, and he felt like he couldn't do that to his satisfaction in his parents' home.

He was thankful when Jemima came in and he stood to greet her. "Mama sent me with a this box." He motioned to the decently-sized box at his feet. Things of hers from the house no doubt, but he hadn't been told explicitly and he hadn't asked as it was none of his business. Noah ran a hand through his curls, not helping their state of constant haphazard disarray. "She also asked me to check in on you, so I suppose I am to report back to her if you've anything to share." He chuckled; they both knew he would likely forget anything that wasn't a major piece of information between here and home.

Sitting back down, he supposed it wouldn't be too bad to stay for a few minutes, even if he had a host of things he would like to be working on back home.

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Jemima Greengrass

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   Jemima Greengrass

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“Oooh,” Jemima said eagerly, showing more obvious keenness about the box at his feet than her brother’s presence. She didn’t want Noah to think she had missed him in the slightest, because that would only give him leave to be a thorn in her side about it. “It’ll be my winter things, I expect.” She pulled the box towards her own seat and made a fuss of opening it, though the winter clothes and gloves and scarfs she had inadvertently forgotten about when packing away her life in a (miserable) frenzy to move to Bartonburg hardly made the most exciting of parcels.

“If I had anything of consequence to share you can be sure I would tell Mama directly, rather than entrust it to you, Noah,” Jemima remarked, in an easy bickering tone; she managed to refrain from rolling her eyes, but of course her brother would only remember anything she said weeks or months later, and only pipe up with it when it was grossly irrelevant. Unless it was about some strange muggle artifact she had lately encountered. Then he would be listening intently. Well, as intently as Noah ever could.

“But you can report to her that I was an excellent hostess, if you like,” she carried on, only comfortable being quite this childish because her husband and in-laws were not in the room to witness it. (She would obviously have been on her best behaviour then.) Never mind that Jemima had not offered him anything to eat or drink, or even asked how he was yet – she was currently too busy pulling out an old pair of her earmuffs from the box.

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   Noah Farley

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"Fair enough," Noah conceded about his mother and sister communicating on anything of importance. It was still a little weird, seeing Jemima as the hostess in her own house (sort of, from what he understood anyway). Expected, in the long run, but she wasn't that much older than him and he hardly felt old enough for any of that nonsense. Even with the discrepancies between the expectations placed on men and women, Noah felt hardly capable of being graduated from Hogwarts most of the time, let alone an adult with a full-time job and responsibilities. He was glad his time to settle down was a long, long way off. If ever, really.

Noah tutted with a slight smirk, "Asking me to lie to mother is quite the stretch, not even tea, hmm?" The absence of refreshment had not gone unnoticed, though Noah was hardly one to fuss over. He wasn't even sure how long he would stay. Probably long enough to be a nuisance. It was more fun that way. Plus it would be nice to ascertain for himself how she was doing. "Will your wardrobe hold it all?" He teased. The box wasn't that big nor cumbersome to carry, but he knew it had been lightened and expanded on the inside to accommodate the sheer amount of winter clothing items in there.

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“You’d better hope so, or else I’ll be getting you to ferry all my summer things back,” Jemima teased, light-heartedly. If it were anyone else she might have taken it as a coded remark, something about the Greengrasses’ house – her house; she was a Greengrass too, after all, no matter that she still needed to remind herself of it more frequently than she probably should by now – being smaller than their own.

She pulled out a handmade winter scarf with far worse knitting than she remembered, and wrinkled her nose. Maybe she would leave that one. There were still some nice cloaks and winter boots in here, which was fortunate. Jemima had not recovered a great deal of confidence going shopping alone, so she would make do with old things until she saw something she really loved from the window and perhaps managed to hint to her husband that she would like something just like it. One day she would have the confidence for that, she thought.

She peered at Noah appraisingly, and then softened towards him. “You can have tea, I suppose, if you promise not to spill it,” she said, in mock-warning (although Noah would); and then he would not need to lie to mother. “How are you, anyway?”

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Noah grimaced appropriately at the thought of being a pack animal for his mother and sister. He had far better things to be doing. "I can make it fit." He was good with charms after all. A little extension charm on her closet and all would be well. At least he was getting tea out of it.

"Well enough," his chat with Mrs. Darrow seemed to have been necessary and he was trying, but Noah had never been a particularly organized person. "Busy," that was truer, perhaps. "Tinkering, work, things of that nature." Nothing out of the ordinary for him. For as extraordinary as he was, at any rate. "I've been working on a magical metal detector of sorts." He was quite enthused about it, but knew his sister would not be.

"And you must give me something else to report back to Mama, or she'll just send me again." Anything, just a snippet, a token of information. Anything.

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