June hummed quietly as she took the shears from Poppy to snipe the ends of the orange blossoms off. She stuck them inside the vase before she began to fiddle with the petals, fluffing them out a bit more. Her arrangement was going to be filled with warmer colors - yellow often meant friendship and she’d use every flower imaginable to convey that. She supposed Mr. Blackwood wouldn’t understand any of it, but the thought was still a nice one. If he didn’t enjoy them, hopefully his mother or another female family member would. She hadn’t ever met a woman who didn’t enjoy receiving flowers - her father had given her and Ophelia a bouquet of roses for their birthday since she could remember.

Then she turned toward her friend and grinned at her. “But it was a funny prank. Not something I would expect from someone as proper as your cousin.” As long as Juniper had known the elder Foxwood, he’d always been proper and angry looking. It hadn’t been until recently that his outer shell had cracked, and she could only ponder if he was beginning to go senial. The blonde shook her head as she dispelled the thought from her head; Poppy would be upset if she knew June was thinking anything remotely like that. “I’m sure he’ll spoil you tomorrow, and you’ll forget all about the confetti.” She joked before she winked at her.

The Slytherin finished fluffing up the petals and she slid another orange blossom next to the first, twisting and turning the stem until she found an angle she liked with the first one she’d put in. She bummed in agreement to the first comment, her fingers falling away from the flowers as Poppy decided this is what their lives will be like. Underneath her words she understood what she meant: the fear of what ifs, the uncertainty of the future. Debuting was going to change things forever.

“Do you think any eligible bachelors would actually approach us at the derby?” She hummed quietly. Her father would level anyone with a glare he didn’t like and Grace wouldn’t be there to tell him that men actually would need to speak to his daughters if he planned on marrying them off. She was good for something June supposed. Atticus would probably do the same, although on a much more subtle level.

She snipped the bottom of a yellow rose off and stuck it between the two flowers already in the vase. Then, frowning at it, she tugged it free. That seemed too obvious for what she was going for. “I don’t know if I’m ready.” June admitted quietly, her eyes flicking over toward her friend. “Though I do think it’ll be nice to be able to meet someone and not have to worry about the implications of being seen, even with a chaperone.” How else would she pass time without Hogwarts?

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