Gus couldn’t help but grin at her. Seamus was a strong name, and he was almost certain that Edmund hadn’t been allowed a single opinion on what they were naming him, although from what he’d seen of them, Edmund was so enamored with his sister that he probably didn’t care. She probably argued it was another version of James and that was the end of that. Then he chuckled quietly. “Well, he might fall asleep there if he gets too comfortable, and he’s kind of heavy. ‘Fraid he inherited the Lissington sweet tooth.” Although Fig’s wasn’t as bad as Gus’, and Seamus was too young to realize how many things his parents wouldn’t let him try. Guess he had to be the cool uncle and sneak him things. Gus made a mental note to owl Honeyduke to see what might be appropriate for a toddler. (Everything?)

He hesitated for a moment as he wondered if Augustus was appropriate, but he would die if someone called him that on a regular basis. Mr. Lissington was bad enough and he was still learning not to wrinkle his nose whenever someone called Professor Lissington. “I’m Gus, and you’ve met my nephew, Seamus. It’s very nice to meet you.” Gus smiled brightly as he nodded toward the toddler in her arms, who looked up at her whenever she spoke to him, his own head bobbing when she mentioned the word tired. He burrowed his head back against her and yawned. He looked content and Torie didn’t seem to mind, so Gus pushed his hands into his pocket.

“Torie. You’re Basil’s friend… he’s spoken about you.” Of course he had; Gus liked to know everything there was about Basil. “We erm… work together? But I’m his friend too. I mean obviously I am or I probably wouldn’t have been invited by him.” His fingers raked nervously through his hair and he suddenly wished he had his scarf to fiddle with. Gus grinned sheepishly at her.

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