23 December 1891 — Longbottom Christmas Ball

The holidays may have been upon them but it was certainly not a peaceful resting time for Faustus. Between buying Christmas presents and work, he’d scarcely found time to breathe between everything. To say that he’d been looking forward to the Christmas Ball being thrown by his aunt was putting it mildly, if only for the fact that he knew the children were going to have a good time, and there would certainly be someone there whose face he knew he’d be pleased to see. Ever since seeing the worried expression pluck at her features during Dorset’s hospital stay, Faustus had had the most peculiar feeling that might have been half of what had been gnawing at him for the longest time. There was a sense of familiarity, something he hadn’t felt in a long time, and it was certainly perplexing him.

There was little time to dwell on the matter however. Iris was absolutely wound up at the prospect of Christmas being only a few days away, and he had been working to make sure all their gifts were in order.  Mezereon wasn’t far behind his sister in excitement and Faustus looked forward to the moment when he would be able to see them off to the children’s area of the festivities. Once arrived, the ball was both familiar and exciting, with the orchestra in full swing with a few dancing couples already swirling about the floor. Almost immediately, he began searching for a familiar face, and as usual it took him a few passes over the crowd to spot her. Of course, Mrs. Bagshot wasn’t far away from her, chattering in her usual manner with her friends. Miss Skovgaard, however, seemed to be scanning the crowd same as him, and he grinned to himself before beginning to make his way over to her.

It played out much the same as he’d done to make his way over to her in the crowd of symphony-goers all those nights ago. But instead of feeling repetitive, Faustus found himself enjoying walking through the crowd to greet people as he moved towards her. And as last time, he was stopped a few times on his way over to her by friends and relatives alike. Once closer to her though, she was taken up in conversation by someone else, and Faustus hesitated in his way towards her, only for someone to stop him as well, immediately diverting his attention. Merlin if this was going to be the entire night, he would be having words with his aunt about who was invited to these parties or how long he was obligated to stay.

---

  

As a child Malou had loved Christmas time, the feeling of being wrapped in the warm love of her family, the ritual comfort of church services, the excited magic of being a child. It was different now that she had grown. If she were honest with herself, it was different now that her parents were no longer with them. Every year Mrs. Bagshot invited her to her home, and every year Malou volunteered to work Christmas Eve and early Christmas day. The dreaded night shift that nobody wanted. She'd walk home from work and attend a service then spend the rest of the day in quiet until Fallon had gotten home. But this year was different. Or at least where she would go after her Christmas eve night shift. Instead she'd floo back to Mrs. Bagshot's and feel as if she were intruding on a family's private celebrations - which she very much would be doing.

The days that led up to Christmas through all of this into stark contrast with her memories. It wasn't so much as she didn't like the holiday season, but more so the memories it brought back, the realization of just how much she had lost that summer. After all, her last memories of her parents were the Christmas of her seventh year. Yet Malou dutifully attended holiday parties and dinners.... and apparently balls.

She still wasn't entirely sure how she had received an invitation to Mrs. Longbottom's ball as Mrs. Bagshot had informed her it was quite a select crowd, mainly the intimates to the large Longbottom-Potter family, and yet here Malou was standing in a gown of pale rose gold, adorned with flowers of a darker shade and lace of white, the edging almost gold peach color, on the edges of Mrs. Longbottom's ballroom. Surprisingly Malou had been actually been looking forward to this evening. Or rather, she was very well aware of the one person whom might be in attendence, and she very much wanted to see him.

Mrs. Bagshot was holding court beside her, while Malou did her best not to appear to be looking for anyone in particular when one of the ladies' daughters pulled her into conversation. She knew Rosamund it appear as such it gave them a common topic. How was the hospital? Did she ever get tired of it? And so on and so forth. But Malou's attention stopped suddenly at the apperance of a gentleman in the perifery of her vision. There was no mistaking his form, his hair, his stance which led to her heart and stomach seeming to start to leap as if in a dance. She held herself still, almost forgetting to breathe as he stopped near her. In fact she'd forgotten entirely that she'd been talking to someone. Then she heard his voice and warmth flushed her cheeks as she realized just how farmiliar it had become. Now the girl was asking if she was alright, Malou most have missed her question, her body heightened as it were, but still he did not step into conversation and she stayed tense as she assured the girl she was fine and asked politely if she could repeat the question.

In the background the song ended and the musicians began to prepare for the next as the couples who had been dancing returned to the sides of the room in search for new partners. And yet the only thing Malou took any great notice of was the voice of Mr. Faustus Prewett so very close to her.

  

---

Pleasantries were always easy for Faustus, but this night he found them almost taxing; asking after so-and-so's kids when he knew they were just over in the next room was not the kind of intelligent conversation he cared for. Iris would likely have loads to inform him of at the end of the night, though and he pocketed away some of the facts he was told so they might be able to compare notes. She would like that.

Faustus' gaze flicked up just in time to see a blush spill onto Miss Skovgaard's cheeks and he wondered what on earth the young woman next to her had said to warrant such a reaction. He smiled, unable to help but be amused as he found a way to slip out of this current conversation he was in. Just as the orchestra ended the song, Faustus used this opportunity to politely excuse himself from his conversation partner and turned, his eyes on Miss Skovgaard's profile.

Once he'd turned to her and her own conversation partner, the young woman saw him coming and immediately excused herself, giving Miss Skovgaard the smallest curtsey before scurrying away. Faustus had to laugh softly at this as he reached the newly alone healer. "I'm afraid I may have scared your conversation partner off." He said with amusement. "Please forgive me, I hope it wasn't anything too important."

---

  

Half of Malou's attention remained on Mr. Prewett, the other half on the girl. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the movement of Mr. Prewett, but in front of her the girl was excusing herself and making her way to someone who Malou was sure would be infinitently more engaging than herself.

Would it be rude to thank him? Malou wondered. Sometimes around Mr. Prewett she forgot herself and joked with the same sense of humor she had with Fallon, but they hadn't seen each other since her godmother's dinner party earlier in the month and that ease, while lingering at the edges where Malou normally held her discomfort around those not in an intimate circle to herself, it did not seem to extend at first contact to her words.

Habitually Malou turned toward him and curtsied herself murmuring, "Good evening." out a habitually bore into her since the time she could speak.

"Not at all." She assured Mr. Prewett albeit with a bit more relief in her tone than she meant to reveal. The tension she had been holding as she looked for him seemed to melt away as he appeared. He looked handsome tonight and Malou was faced with the fact that even her memories of him paled in comparison. The memories, it ought to be mentioned, that she thought of much too often.

"How are you this evening?" As always Malou found herself worrying over him. Had he slept enough? Was he working too much? Had he managed to be injuried by party goer? This last one might have seemed a bit odd, but after the ball at Sanditon Resort Malou was quite certain she would never attend another ball without cataloging possible injuries - in particular to the gentleman before her. At least in this case politeness was a guise to mask her many worries.

  

---

From the load of small talk that he'd just been making before he stepped over here, Faustus opened his mouth to jovially proclaim that he was quite well and enjoying himself in the lovely evening his aunt had planned. But with one look at her, he thought he might have seen a glimmer of the healer that had been so worried for him back when she'd been treating Dorset. And so with a sigh and slight glance towards the cieling as if releasing himself from the obligation to chat the same thing over and over, Faustus grinned lazily. "Quite tired." He said, though the fact that he'd escaped small talk by the skin of his teeth aiding his energy to return. "The holidays are rather a busy season all around."

He lowered his glance back down to her. "I hope it hasn't been the same for you at the hospital?" He asked, though from what he'd heard from his friend there, it had been equally as busy. Faustus found himself wishing he'd been able to stop and visit her, but they'd been able to chat enough earlier at Mrs. Bagshot's dinner party that he hadn't wanted to overwhelm her.

---

  

For a moment Mr. Prewett seemed about to speak but then he sighed instead, looked briefly above, then said nothing of the polite chatter Malou had heard all evening. And for that Malou was grateful. Polite chatter was just that - polite. The truths left unsaid and covered up, only trite sentiments were left. But the fact that Mr. Prewett told her the truth, something seemed so intimate about it. As if this were no longer merely a man who was checking up on her, as if there was something there. But no, Malou had to stop the thoughts and tried to ignore the warm feeling in her belly. She couldn't read into something. Just because she had realized she felt something more than she ought for this man did not mean he felt the same.

"Indeed." Malou agree, "And with children it must be even more so." Something that Malou had no experience with. She had been an only child, and Mrs. Bagshot's son and only child had been a few years older than her. Leaving any experience of the holidays from an adult perspective bereft of the energy of children.

But he'd been talking about work not in general, Malou felt warm at the realization of her misstep, but she tried to ignore it. "It has." She admitted. This season always seemed to bring a willful sense of invincibility to everything which resulted in many cases of accidents at the hospital. Which, if truth be told, suited Malou just fine. December was a month she wanted to bury herself in work anyway. "For some reason there always seems to be someone who forgets that they can actually harm themselves with magic around the holidays." Her words were an almost amused sigh as she found herself adding, "For instance there was a boy," She had guessed he was about eighteen. "Who wanted to play Santa Claus for his siblings and used some charmed face cream that was being peddled, well the boy went on to add a charm himself and had lovely golden locks growing down to his knees." The beard had rather resembled more of a maiden's hair from some fairy tale then a beard of any sort.

  

---

As she brought up the children, Faustus' gaze to flickered over to the side room that he'd last seen Iris and Mezereon go through. He trusted all would be well, as they got on quite well usually, but the holidays always seemed a ripe time for disagreements. An apparently injuries, as Miss Skovgaard had just brought up. He looked at her with a perplexed expression on his face as she told him about the young fellow who had had a mishap with some face cream. He laughed at the imagery, and though he knew it likely wasn't Constable Dorset, he couldn't help but imagine him having that same predicament.

"Bless him, he tried." Faustus responded, still chuckling at the story. "And for that he must be commended, though I don't think his mates will let him live that down anytime soon!"

---

  

It was a joy to watch the amusement of Mr. Prewett's face as he listened, the quirk of his lips and the bright light to his eyes as he watched her. Then there was the warmth of his laugh that Malou realized she had been hoping for when she told him about the boy. Her stomach seemed to leap at the sound and she couldn't help a echoing smile on her lips. "He did." She agreed, and she couldn't find the heart in her to be disapproving any more. "No, I doubt not." She knew Fallon wouldn't have let it down had she done something so foolish.

Behind them the strains of the next song began drawing Malou's attention for a moment as music always did, her head tilted slightly as she tried to identify the music. It was a waltz... the Blue Danube if she wasn't mistaken - her favorite. For a moment she remembered hearing it with her parents a life time ago. Both the music and Mr. Prewett's presence called to her. Had it been last year Malou would have paid no mind to simply listening to the music, but this year .... well it was different. At least she didn't think Mr. Prewett would judge her too harshly for her lack of attention, he was only too well aware of her love of music.

  

---

Just as the music swelled over the crowd, Faustus could easily see that it had immediately caught her attention. He stayed silent, just observing her and her expression that likely meant she was attempting to figure out the exact name of the song. Though it was familiar to him, he didn't know the name, and he was rather wishing he did. He could see her attention being pulled towards the music with every lilting note, and so he did the only thing that seemed natural.

Hand outstretched, between them Faustus caught her gaze and grinned. "Something is telling me you might rather be out there instead of in this crowd," As he reached out his hand, he could feel his heart quicken. "And if that were the case, I wouldn't blame you. Would you do me the honor of joining me?"

---

  

Their eyes met and, while Malou felt a blush warm her cheeks again, his grin forgave her all her faults. The lapse of attention and the desire to dance. So often men passed her over for a dance at such evenings. She didn't mind as the music often held her in its own company, but she did like to dance. Loved to feel the music in the lightness of her steps, the grace of her arms, the sweep of her skirts. Despite her love of music and dance Malou often consoled herself that she was often left on the edges of the ballroom with the fact that all the attention of the ballroom drew to the dancers on it, to their movements and their motions. And yet, Mr. Prewett was right. Despite the eyes of the crowd it was more open out there. She just had never expected him to ask. Never once had Mr. Prewett asked her to dance, never had they been in such a position to do so. Malou nodded, words caught in her throat as she placed her hand in his. "Thank you." Her words were softer with the sincerity in them as she forced herself to meet his gaze as they began their way to the dance floor.

The entire way to the dance floor she was overly aware of the heat of his arm through his coat jacket, of his presence beside. In a way she hadn't even been aware of at Sanditon. She remembered being aware of him in the box at the Symphony and then again at the dinner party, but still there was something of a ... thrill, perhaps, that nudged at her with every step. It did not matter that eyes would fall on them, that people would survey them, what mattered was that for a moment he was with her and the music would swirl around them.

They took their places and Malou gracefully curtsied to him. Then he was there, closer than he'd been since Sanditon, his hands around her waist, her hand on his shoulder. Her eyes met his and for a moment there was just him, even the music faded away, and then they began to move in the long familiar steps of a waltz.

  

---

The one perk of having to attend far too many balls was the fact that he was able to remember how to properly lead in a waltz. The movements came to him somewhat easily with the aid of the music drifting through the air. As the music swelled, Faustus did his best to remain focused on her, but the fact that he could see - and feel - at least a few pairs of eyes sweeping across the floor only seemed to force him to concentrate even more.

With his hand pressed against the small of her back, he guided her through the dancing couples. When it came time, he raised his arm to give her room to spin and he guided her in a gentle spin before gently pulling her back towards him and catching her waist again. "Forgive me, I may be a little out of practice." He said, timing his apology for a beat in the dance when she was closer to him. Another grin tugged at his lips as he looked down at her.

---

  

Mr. Prewett was a wonderful dance partner, leading her through the steps with ease. She followed him, her movements graceful as she followed his lead, spinning, and stepping with the beat of the music. It was just Mr. Prewett, herself, and the music, everything else had melted away into a swirl of color and Malou certainly wasn't going to allow her senses to drag her back to her many concerns and worries.

After a spin, back again in his embrace, Mr. Prewett looked back down at her. "I would never have known." Malou admitted, only realizing a broad smile was on her lips when she noted his own grin. He did not seem to begrudge her a dance at all... instead he seemed to enjoy it just as much as she did. He spun her again and when she returned to his chest she added, "I am as well." But the weight of all that those words admitted, of the choices in her life that led her to the sides of ballrooms and a small London apartment instead of the middle of the dance floor, seemed as light as a feather, as light as her toes as they swirled through the movement. Everything, for the first time in a very long time, felt right.

  

---

Surely she hadn't been out of practice. Either that or his eye for dance was poor, though he wouldn't want to do anything of the kind to make her think that was his assumption. Her movements were smooth, practiced as if she'd been doing this before with the smile adorning her face brighter than he'd seen it yet. At the end of the night, Faustus would admit to himself he adored it. For now, he merely enjoyed the movements of the dance, keeping a steady hand on her back as they spun along with the other pairings on the dance floor.

"I find that quite hard to believe," He commented, amusement coating his voice again as he lifted her into the air. His hand pressed firmly into her back to support her before he directed them into another half circle, following the group. "I'd say you're quite good at it."

---

  

His hands were warm through her dress as he guided her, the music swelling around them, each step almost felt like flying as she dipped and spun. She was on her toes as he guided her up into the air, his words and amusement making Malou herself smile back. "Thank you." She murmured before the next pause and spin.

The dance itself left little room for conversation, which Malou did not mind. With Mr. Prewett guiding her, spinning her, lifting her. With the music dancing around them she felt lighter than she had been in years. She forgot her worries for the moment and allowed herself to smile, to relax, to follow the lead in steps she had learned as a very young girl.

When the last strains of music ended Malou was smiling widely, something which had yet to happen at a society event - at least to the best of her memory. Although with a curtsey and a bow Malou felt beret from the warmth and guidance of his hands, their sturdy warmth. "Thank you." She smiled geinuely at him, adding guilessly, "It has been a long time since I have danced." In truth she was very rarely asked being of the variety of wallflower that mothers and sisters had to nudge a gentleman to ask out of pity. Indeed until this fall she had mostly avoided society functions at all, attending the occasional concert or ball with the reward of at least listening to music.

  

---

It seemed that the few minutes they'd been dancing together had stretched into both an eternity and at the same time, the shortest few minutes he'd experienced in a long time. The sound of the music ending cued Faustus to bow, and he did so gladly, breathlessly as he led them off of the dance floor. "You do so quite gracefully," He heard himself say as they navigated their way through the crowd. A movement out of the corner of his eyes saw him turn briefly to the entrance to the children's room — he only looked quickly enough to see a small crowd of children scatter, but he thought he caught a familiar blue bow amongst the retreating figures.

"Are you quite looking forward to the impending holidays?" He asked, a smile on his face. He enjoyed walking through the crowd with her. The attendees spilled easily around them, just as they wove their way through the throng of people; he didn't have any particular spot to lead them to but they ended up near the rather large Christmas tree which was already overflowing with presents underneath the tree.

---

  

"Thank you." Malou murmured, keeping her gaze on the crowd as they wove through.

It had been years since Malou had been asked if she were looking forward to the holidays. It wasn't a question easily evaded either. The obvious answer for most people was "yes" but that would be a lie from Malou's lips and she was not in the habit of lying. But to say she was not... she did not wish to appear as the person who did not like Christmas. "A bit." She settled on. She did like the Christmas service and most people seemed rather nicer this time of year. "I confess, though, I usually work through the holidays." Both Christmas and New Years, and her birthday between them. She hoped the explaination would soften any attention to her less than enthusiasic response.

  

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