May 12th, 1894 - High Street

After the flower show last weekend, Mason had been reminded it was time to pick up some fertilizer from the Potts' shop when he next had a chance. Visitation days were always too busy for him to take time to step out, keeping an eye on the students was a full time job it felt like, so he had made a trip to the florist to secure his delivery. Sometimes he was able to handle everything by owl, but he'd been looking for some of those snappy snap dragons that he'd been hearing about. His project on semi-sentient plants for his OWL students was always a good way for them to get exposed, but with a new plant available to research and do a project would be an nice new element. He only had access to so many varieties at the moment. It was just a thought for a moment, he would like to chat with Miss Thistle a bit more on the snapdragons, but at least he had put the thought out into the universe.

He exited the shop with his delivery set, including a bouquet for his mother sent to her home. There was still some time left in his schedule for a quick trip to the Broomsticks. Mason didn't often need a drink, but with the upcoming end of term assessments and crunching to get everything set for the summer, he was thinking one pint wouldn't be a bad idea. He never indulged at the school, even though it was offered, and it turned out for the better, especially after the de-aging potion problem. He was leery about things of this sort now. Outside of school it should have been fine though.

As he made his way up the high street, he caught sight of a familiar face, one he hadn't seen in a while. "Carmichael!" He called to Elliot, jogging a bit to catch up with his old friend. It had been an age and a half since he'd seen the other (former) professor and it would be nice to talk to someone who he didn't teach or work with.

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Elliot Carmichael

  

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He'd gone to Hogsmeade to dabble in a thought experiment — was he ready to leave Wales? Elliot liked living at home, but it was rather far away from everything else he did, and it may be nice to keep his own space. He'd liked it when he lived at Hogwarts during the school year. He also certainly had the money.

Hogsmeade wasn't feeling as claustrophobic as it had once. Elliot still wasn't sold, but he had infinite time to decide — he hadn't confided this impulse in anyone yes. He was going to take the floo back to Wales when he heard his name in a familiar voice, and turned around.

Elliot grinned. "Skeeter!" he returned, brightly. "It's been too long." It was not as if the time span since they'd last seen each other was anyone but Elliot's fault — he was the one who'd left Hogwarts, after all. Still, he was delighted to have run into Skeeter while out and about.

  

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Once he caught up to Elliot, Mason grinned, clapping his friend on the shoulder lightly. "Feels like a decade, but that might be an exaggeration." It hadn't been anywhere near that long, but Mason was feeling like an old coot these days, so he liked to wax poetic about getting old in the most self-depreciating of manners.

"Can I temp you into a pint at the Broomsticks?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow. "I'll take any excuse to stay out of the castle for a little longer." He was ready for the school year to be over and while the castle (or greenhouses, rather) were typically his place of refuge from the outside world, he was in the mood for a change of scenery. His trip to the Seychelles with Lissington for Easter had done him some good, but now he was starting to think he might have the bug for travel. "I trust things have been well?" He hoped anyway, otherwise he'd feel like an ass for asking.

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"Oh, I'd love to," Elliot agreed with a grin — he immediately became worried that he'd agreed too quickly, in case Mason would think he was lonely. Still, hopefully it was fine — especially because Mason had invited him. "It'll give me an excuse to put off going back to Wales."

The two started walking in the direction of the Broomsticks. "No complaints," Elliot answered. "And yourself?"

  

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"Excellent," Mason chuckled at Elliot's quick agreement. Whatever their respective needs to stay away for a little while longer, this was a good way to delay the inevitable in a manner that at least served a purpose.

"Busy," Mason started with as they ambled toward the pub. He was not sure how much of the rumors from the school had reached beyond Hogsmeade, but it was a tiresome subject. 'It's been a long year." He sighed. Too much had gone on at the school this year between the scandal of Miss Flitwick and Prince; the de-aging potions, and every other small catastrophe,  Mason was very much looking forward the the summer break. "I was made Hufflepuff Head of House, so the added responsibility," which was not really the problem, "Along with all of the nonsense has been tiresome." It was the first time he could remember being actively looking forward to the end of term.

As they reached the Broomsticks, he pulled open the door and stepped inside of the cozy pub, finding a table off to the side easily enough. "What's keeping you busy these days?" Mason was woefully out of touch with anyone outside of Hogwarts these days.

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   Elliot Carmichael

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Head of House; Elliot had held that position for Slytherin, for a single school year before he left Hogwarts. He supposed that Skeeter holding the Hufflepuff position ought to make him say rueful. Instead, Elliot smiled at his friend, "Congratulations." He couldn't be jealous of a position he'd been incapable of holding.

"Oh, mostly just seer things," Elliot said archly. He was kept busy by very little, these days — perks of being an unmarried gentleman of leisure, he supposed. He wanted some profession to occupy his time, but had not managed to think of anything. "What nonsense is it that's keeping you busy?" On the word nonsense, Elliot's tone mimicked Skeeter's.

  

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Mason couldn't fathom not having something continuous to occupy his time like his work did. Even if he wasn't at the school he would have found research trips or something with herbology to keep himself busy. He couldn't be stagnant, always needed to be moving and doing, so this was perfect. He spent the majority of the year working, spent his off time setting up for the next year and now traveling. It could certainly be worse.

"Same old, same old." Elliot knew what it was like to be a professor and a head of house; there was very little downtime and he preferred it that way. "Had way too much nonsense this year if you ask me." Mason paused as the waitress came over and he ordered a butterbeer for himself, waiting for Elliot to order and the waitress to move on before continuing in a lower voice. "One of the newer professors is betrothed to a student." Mason had to handle that conversation and had done so bluntly; his disapproval quite evident, especially for someone so typically mild-mannered.

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Elliot grimaced. "I can't say I care for that," he said. He has tried to remind students that he was an eligible adult as minimally as possible, leaning heavily on chaperoning at the Coming Out Ball and avoiding the season. He had not wanted anything that would call either his reputation or theirs into question.

"How's it landing with the students?" Elliot said. A skeptical, arched eyebrow likely made it clear what he thought their reaction was.

  

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At least Elliot gave what Mason thought was the appropriate reaction. "For those who care, it's quite the scandal." Mason rolled his eyes. He didn't want to have to care about things like this, but he didn't exactly have a choice. Mitigating the gossip was one of his least favorite things to do and it had been a long year of it. "I'm trying to keep my hands clean of the whole thing." Just another reason he was going to wind up alone or maybe, hopefully, find someone who had hadn't had as a student, but that was getting more and more difficult these days with a decade of teaching under his belt. He wasn't getting any younger, after all.

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His raised eyebrow was right; there was no way the students would keep a cool reaction to that. "I don't blame you," Elliot said. The whole thing had the trappings of impropriety hovering around it. "Anything interesting outside of school?" he asked, wondering if Mason had any plans for the season.

  

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"Research trip or two." Mason had taken to calling Gus' adventures abroad research trips. In theory, they were, Gus was going to look at artifacts, he always made sure Mason had local flora to look at, it was more holiday than anything else, but he always thought he sounded superficial calling them that.

He should put some effort into the season, and he would attend a few events here and there, when he had time, but Mason wasn't sure he had the energy for it. At this point in his life, he was under the impression that if he were to find romance again, it wouldn't be at a ball or anything of the like. He wasn't at all comfortable in situations like that, so was unlikely to find someone of the same mindset. "Headed somewhere tropical to look at carnivorous plants." He supplied, realizing his fib was a little vague.

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Research trips, carnivorous plants — this was the sort of thing you did in the academic fields of Herbology, rather than Divination, where Elliot was not sure what travel would help him with.

"Sounds like there's a little bit of room in there still," Elliot commented, aloof — he raised an eyebrow at Mason. He did not want to sound like his own mother, but, well — Mason Skeeter was definitely at a very marriageable age.

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   Mason Skeeter

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Mason knew that raised eyebrow well enough, especially paired with a comment about his free time. Fortunately his mother was too busy to otherwise care much about his social life, or lack thereof, or the fact that he had not yet married. "I don't plan to spend the entire summer at the school, if that's what you're implying." Mason, nearing forty now, wasn't sure romance was in the cards for him, but after so many failed attempted, maybe he was just cursed. Maybe that was a little dramatic, but even as a younger man, he hadn't been able to make anything stick, what chance would he have at this point in his life? At least he had a good, strong career in a profession he could work in until he he could no longer do it. Which, given his dedication, could be a long, long time. "I could ask what it is that you plan to do this summer as well." Mason laughed as their drinks were delivered.

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Elliot chuckled. At least Mason had not entirely given up on a wife. And his question was a fair enough one; Elliot took a sip of his newly-delivered drink before answering. "My mother has some aims," Elliot answered; his tone would hopefully make that obvious. "And I — would like to continue to study Divination." Why was he so haunted by death?

  

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Mothers and their lofty aims. Mason could empathize there. While he had always thought the pressure to marry was simply something society saddled young ladies with, he was starting to realize there was an age at which men were also thrust into the limelight to make a good match. At least he was in good company.

"I wonder what the rush is," he laughed. If he was content with his life, why couldn't everyone else around him leave him to it? "But at least we have things to keep us busy regardless." Mason was thankful for that.

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If they both felt rushed, then what was it like for the debutantes? Sometimes Elliot wished that he had talked Temerita Reid into marrying him last year, when he'd been dosed by a potion at a party. They would have, he thought, been happy together, even under the strange circumstances. They were the only people who really understood each other, he thought.

He shook his head to shake off the thought and refocused on Mason. "You're exactly right," he said, "There shouldn't be pressure as long as we're busy."

  

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