Basil Foxwood was not the most thrilled to be in Surrey this weekend. After… so much that had happened with Lissington and the funeral, not to mention Edmund’s appearance and Atticus apparently knowing all about the whole debacle… it was more of a headache than Basil was prepared to face with a grin. It felt as if recently his entire life had been overcome by dramatics and the days of peaceful essays and research were lost to the abyss of a once wonderful dream… This weekend he was actively avoiding his family as much as possible, despite the fact that he was trapped in his aunt’s house for the entirety of his stay. Luckily everyone seemed to be chittering still over Atticus’ engagement to the (albeit) lovely Ms. Mountbatton who too had been invited to stay for the house party. A few others had been invited to remain as well, namely Cassian Valenduris who Basil was unfamiliar with, and Kristoffer Lestrange which… seemed bizarre given the company. It was of no matter to Basil however, as Ms. Victoire Malfoy had also been asked which, all in all, was not surprising in the least. (He felt a small pang of guilt at the thought of continuing to lead his mother on as to the nature of his relationship with Ms. Malfoy, but he was too selfish to let it dictate his actions accordingly.)
This morning, as he descended the broad staircase to join the guests for breakfast, he scanned the small crowd for a familiar and friendly face. Poppy, for all her chittering, could be counted upon as a distraction but she was already engaged. Tillie, whom he much preferred, was nowhere in sight and Ms. Victoire… was also missing in action. Basil sighed as he made for a place at a table. He hoped Atticus would leave him be before the hunt. There was still time to feign illness, but Basil desperately wanted to participate in the days activities. The foxhunt was one of his favorite pastimes and, given it was such a rarity to find time in his schedule, he should like to take advantage of it.
Seemingly out of nowhere, a familiar voice hissed his name and Basil almost startled out of his seat. Alarmed, he turned grey hues onto Ms. Victoire who had appeared like a banshee from nothing. It was a welcome sight once he got his bearings and Basil almost laughed at her impeccable timing. “Miss Victoire,” he replied playfully to her hiss.
Lifting a dark, black, inky cup of tea for himself, Basil listened to his friend’s demand and did his best not to grin too obviously. Well this was a new and interesting development. “Anthony?” He queried her, tellingly. “He’s likely the most affable of our lot, frankly,” Basil replied with a small shrug. He took a sip of his tea and then replaced it carefully on its saucer. “Where Atticus and I do not always see eye to eye, Anthony is… the elder brother I always wished I had.” Basil’s eyes danced playfully across the crowd, seeking his eldest cousin out. “He’s a jokester and a wine snob, but chivalry ought to have been his middle name. I can assure you, there is no joke going around about you in the family nor would there be. Anthony is not that sort. He can be a competitive menace, but he's docile as a lamb altogether.” The brunette laughed and picked up a scone and some jam. “Just don’t bring up croquet. Poppy beat him this summer in their little rivalry game, and he’s still heartbroken over it.”
As grey hues watched his elder cousin laughing in conversation across the room, Basil wondered about Ms. Victoire’s sudden curiosity. His face took on a mischievous, impish little grin. “You swooned on him?” Basil asked, the hint of a tease wrinkling his nose. “What could the man possibly have done to deserve that? Surely he’s not quite so handsome!”