August 12th, 1894 — Frey Manor, Norfolk

Frey Manor was a large and splendid estate in Norfolk. Its sprawling gardens were tended by many a house-elf and the house was modern, if a tad ostentatious. With a loud bang, Victor Frey and Charley Goode appeared out of thin air right before the gate that led towards the house.

They were a very unequal pair. Victor was a well-dressed man of leisure, although disheveled and sickly looking, and Miss Goode was a sprightly and ragged street urchin.
"Oh, Merlin," Victor moaned and bent over and threw up into the flower bed. He was terribly hungover.
"Right," he said when he was done. "We were going to London."

Mr. Frey turned to the urchin and gave her a critical look. "You are not quite in the state for a visit to the ton."
He fiddled with his pockets and produced a small silver bell. Upon ringing it, a house-elf dressed in a white apron appeared in front of them.
"Oooh, Lord Victor," the house-elf bowed so deep that the tips of his giant ears touched the grass. "And a visitor?" He had a raspy, quiet voice that only partly hid his suspicion.
"Runcible, bathe the girl, we are visiting the ton," Victor directed. "I've got to find my valet. We meet again in an hour at the fireplace in the small upstairs tearoom."

With that, Victor strode towards the manor and left the urchin and the house-elf to figure it out.

---