“Sounds like a plan,” he teased, laughing a little under his breath at how lightly they were taking this change. Not that it was much of a change, more just a plainer statement of where they had always been going; but it was ridiculous and magical and a little bit hilarious to think about, all the same.
He nodded, blowing out a breath - it was cold enough to see it in the air - to try and settle the burst of nerves. She had agreed that they ought to, which was some assurance that he wouldn’t be barging in like a bull in a china shop to break the delicate balance they had - and Tybalt certainly wasn’t going in without her. He knew her family from a distance, Harvey and Owen probably best, but Mrs. Beauregard was a little beyond his comfort zone and he already knew the more he thought about meeting her concretely the more he was going to panic.
(If he was not good enough for his own parents - and he was lucky if his muggle father still took enough of an interest in his magical offspring to send a letter once in a while with the (dwindling) allowance; well, not even lucky, because he was beyond caring there - Tybalt was not entirely certain that he would be good enough for anyone else’s, either.)
Still, he grinned again, trying not to let anything dampen the lightness he felt at the rest of the prospect here. “And that sounds delightful,” he said, quirking an eyebrow to admit a little irony in it. “But you might have to coach me on what we’re going to say.” Usually he was happy to improvise, but for this? What were they going to mention, what were they going to leave out about their history? (Besides the obvious already-having-been-sneaking-around, of course.) What was going to sell it best to her? Elsie would know how to get through to her, he hoped, and Tyb was very determined to come off well.
He nodded, blowing out a breath - it was cold enough to see it in the air - to try and settle the burst of nerves. She had agreed that they ought to, which was some assurance that he wouldn’t be barging in like a bull in a china shop to break the delicate balance they had - and Tybalt certainly wasn’t going in without her. He knew her family from a distance, Harvey and Owen probably best, but Mrs. Beauregard was a little beyond his comfort zone and he already knew the more he thought about meeting her concretely the more he was going to panic.
(If he was not good enough for his own parents - and he was lucky if his muggle father still took enough of an interest in his magical offspring to send a letter once in a while with the (dwindling) allowance; well, not even lucky, because he was beyond caring there - Tybalt was not entirely certain that he would be good enough for anyone else’s, either.)
Still, he grinned again, trying not to let anything dampen the lightness he felt at the rest of the prospect here. “And that sounds delightful,” he said, quirking an eyebrow to admit a little irony in it. “But you might have to coach me on what we’re going to say.” Usually he was happy to improvise, but for this? What were they going to mention, what were they going to leave out about their history? (Besides the obvious already-having-been-sneaking-around, of course.) What was going to sell it best to her? Elsie would know how to get through to her, he hoped, and Tyb was very determined to come off well.
