18th January, 1890 — Fitz's London Flat

The morning after the night before and Harriet felt fresh as a daisy. Largely because she had left her son's party well before midnight as befitted a woman of her standing - and unfortunately years - but she knew full well that the revels would have gone on well into the night and all those in attendance would likely be suffering with a sore head in the harsh light of a new day.

Which was, she thought, the only way the young learnt how to moderate themselves. Certainly she had endured her own slow-moving mornings after a ball where daylight was the enemy, she felt the sort of nausea she usually associated with pregnancy and only breakfast food could cure her. Eventually she had become sensible but thankfully her sons were still to be relied on for idiotic moments and Harriet smiled giddily as she greeted the sort-of-butler whose panic at her presence more than made up for his lack of formal training.

Swanning upstairs she opened her son's bedroom door quietly and after a cursory glance to make sure he was alone - some things a mother did not need to know - she crept across the carpets. Eyes twinkling before the light even touched them she wrenched open the curtains in one movement and let the daylight fall across her son, helping it along a little with her wand just to make sure he was properly roused.

"Good morning starlight."

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Fitzroy Prewett

  

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Lady is magnificent and so is this set <3

Fitz's first thought was that he was under some sort of attack. His second was Merlin help whoever had let his mother into the house at this ungodly hour.

(Having poured himself into bed just after dawn, any hour was ungodly at this point.)

"Mother," he stated simply as he rubbed sleep from his eyes, moving into a sitting position but careful to ensure his covers kept him covered.

"To what do I owe...this?"

— Harriet Prewett —

  

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— graphics by lady ❤ —

Her son looked, to put it mildly, an utter wreck of a person and Harriet wrinkled her nose at the distinctly unwashed aroma that she had not missed in the years since Fitz had moved out of the family home. Felix was far more fastidious in his habits and she flattered herself that it was her continued influence that had made the difference.

“You invited me for breakfast, don’t you remember?” She lied seamlessly, testing his memory of the previous evening so as to assess whether his mind was as dishevelled as the rest of him. “Between rounds of mini-Quidditch or whatever you boys called it.”

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   Fitzroy Prewett

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Lady is magnificent and so is this set <3

There was no force on this earth—not even the Imperius Curse itself—that would have prompted Fitz to invite Harriet Prewett into his home at any hour. Did he love his mother ardently? Of course! Did he love her best when she was in another city? Most definitely. Still, the wizard knew that to call his mother on her lie would lead to an argument, and that would only prolong this misery.

"It must have...slipped my mind," he allowed. "If you'll allow me some time, I should be happy to meet you in the dining room."

Whatever his mother was here for, Fitzroy suspected he would rather not be naked for it.

— Harriet Prewett —

  

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— graphics by lady ❤ —

Good boy, Harriet silently congratulated her son on making the correct decision and not confronting her about a blatant lie. In the past, when she had tried this exact gambit with Faustus her eldest had fixed her with a bemused, withering gaze before telling her he was on his way to work and she was in the way – oddly Faustus had never disagreed with her after what had followed.

“Before we do,” Harriet brushed aside his suggestion for the time being, ignoring his discomfort but very much hoping it would prompt him into revealing the answers she sought. Brushing a sock she dearly hoped was at least partly clean from a chair she perched down and levelled her gaze upon him. “I’m simply dying to know who the blonde girl was? Seeing as how no one else knew who she was…not even your Quidditch players.”

  

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Lady is magnificent and so is this set <3

"You'll need to be more specific," he answered, rubbing his eyes again to hide the fact that they were presently rolling. Couldn't she at least let him put on pants before beginning the interrogation?

— Harriet Prewett —

  

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— graphics by lady ❤ —

“Skinny. She looked…well, your aunt Hermione called her watery and that’s as good a description as I could manage,” she tilted her head thoughtfully, getting to the thing she had been building towards all along, the thing that had been nagging at her since last night when nobody could identify the woman talking to her son. “Her clothes were quite old fashioned, I wondered whether one of your more eccentric friends had brought their maid on her night off.”

  

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Lady is magnificent and so is this set <3

"Skinny" and "blonde" could have been just about anyone, in Fitz's sleepy, hungover estimation, but he was eager to bring this delightful discussion to a swift and decisive end.

"The sister of one of my employees," he fibbed. She might have been, for all he knew. "No one to remark upon, really."

— Harriet Prewett —

  

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— graphics by lady ❤ —

It was a passable excuse but Harriet had no doubt that it was just that. The memory came far too smoothly for her to believe it was genuine but she let the matter rest. Merlin knew it was the least objectionable thing about him this morning.

“I would suggest a cold bath before you join me downstairs dear,” she said, sweeping to her feet, deigning to give him some privacy. “And we’ll see who was worth remarking on over breakfast.”

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Lady is magnificent and so is this set <3

"Indeed," Fitzroy sighed loudly, resigned. At the very least, he would be dressed over breakfast.

— Harriet Prewett —

  

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— graphics by lady ❤ —