20 December 1890 — London Christmas Markets

This year Ro found herself quite excited for the holidays. She'd managed to both save up enough to help out around the house and finding the last jade dragon her mother had been eyeing around Halloween. Then it had been too expensive, but by a stroke of luck, Rowan had managed to track down the last one the vendor had sold. It made for a beautiful ornament, one that Ro knew her mother would cherish.

As she tucked it safely wrapped away in packing paper, Ro looked for her mother. She was around here somewhere, though it didn't help that most of the crowd was taller than Ro, and her mother was a great deal shorter. With a frustrated sigh, Rowan set off to look for her mother; she knew to look for the glint of gold ornament in her mother's silver hair, but there might as well have been a tall forest in front of her.

Her breath billowed out in front of her, seemingly covering her vision with a blanket of fog. As she passed the main area of the shopping district, she found herself bathed in a sudden gust of warm air. Patrons of a nearby restaurant spilled out onto the pavement. Looking at the windows, Ro saw it was the kind of restaurant that catered to exclusive circles: gilded with golden curtains, patrons dripping with their finest jewels and furs. With a decided huff, Ro instinctively tucked her chin into her scarf before trudging onward.

In her haste, she collided with something soft. Her cheeks flushed at her absent-mindedness, though was nonetheless relieved she hadn't just run into a concrete pillar. As she looked up at who she'd bumped into, however, she immediately wished she had run into the concrete pillar instead.

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The past six months had been a trying few for his family, but as the eldest and only son Raphael had the privilege of ignoring the trials of his younger sister's lives as unsuccessful debutantes. He'd done his part: he'd introduced Angeline and Estelle to a handful of his friends, although in private he may have made unhelpful comments that suggested they might prefer his youngest sister who had yet to debut. London was much more enjoyable in the summertime than the winter, though in all the bustle of the season Raphael had preferred the family's more secluded dwelling in Cumbria. They'd hosted a few parties, most of his mother's doing but some of his own, especially when the Quidditch World Cup disaster had seen most of the spirit sucked right out of the quidditch scene. He had yet to figure out what to do with his life, but he'd been in talks with the owner of the Appleby Arrows about securing the team under his own names—not that anything had been decided, yet. He'd resolved to figure out his future moving forward when Christmas had gone and passed, but for now he had more pressing matters: shopping.

It was times like these he'd wished his mother had birthed another boy, because in passing each vendor it was all too easy to pick out the things he would have liked, and in his mind any brother of his would have been a younger version of himself. Victorie was the easiest to shop for, as the only girl in the family yet to debut she was most appreciative of the feminine frills and trinkets that his other two sisters had grown bored with. Angeline was getting a book and some perfume, although he had yet to decide what sort of smell she'd prefer so he'd bought all three available, and Estelle was getting... something.

He and his father had left the restaurant after a morning of perusing the markets after deciding to put their two male minds together in hopes of finishing shopping for the ladies of the family, and had gone their separate ways afterwards. His father had gone to discuss business with another friend at the club, while Raphael decided if he didn't finish shopping now Estelle was unlikely to get a present at all.

He wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck, the redness of his nose visible out of the corner of his eyes as the chilly London air attacked, but as he turned to move back in the direction of the shopping district another body collided him, causing him to yank the scarf off his neck. He opened his mouth to say something—an apology, most likely, since by the size and updo it was evident that this was a woman even before he saw her face—but when he realized just who he'd run into his mouth shut.

And then opened again, a moment later. "Miss Yaxley," he said as though he was pleasantly surprised, his manners having been refined from all those years before to where calling her Yaxley seemed impossible. "Or is it....?" He couldn't see her left ring finger from his perspective, but the thought of the same girl who'd chastised him during their tutoring sessions being married seemed as amusing as it was impossible.

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set by lady <3

Anyone but Malfoy, anyone but Malfoy. Ro was glad half her face was hidden by a scarf; she wouldn't have had a very inconspicuous reaction otherwise. He looked exactly how she remembered Raphael Malfoy; looking as if he'd just stepped out of a - well - Raphael painting. This ironic realization caused Ro to step back in mild indignance. And - merlin was he always this tall? Her brow furrowed at his question and she let out a snort. "Miss," she replied, the thought of being married a bit more ridiculous than she probably should have found it. She was the eldest after all, and their family did not have many prospects. Were she dutiful, she would have spent both the last years at Hogwarts and the past few years working to find a husband of decent repute who might take her on.

Perhaps her last years at school being a charity case for people like Malfoy caused her to be more averse to the idea than if she hadn't had to tutor others. "Mr. Malfoy," she responded with a curtsey. "How do you do?"

How do you do? Who was she, a simpering debutante?

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   Raphael Malfoy

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Miss. He felt a little smug at the thought of it, though he couldn't put a finger on why. Even when she'd tried to be patient with him, she'd never been able to stop herself from snapping at him or saying something that made him felt small. No self-respecting man wanted to put up with that, either, so surely that was where the sense of self-satisfaction came from—that he'd been right about her. His eighteen-year-old self might have struggled to hide the accompanying smug smile that came with such smug thoughts, but instead he managed one that looked genuine and pleasant as he nodded in polite greeting.

"I'd be doing much better if it were the middle of summer and could feel the sun on my skin," he said smoothly and with a hint of playfulness, though there was an undisputable truth in his words. Every year he cycled through the same thing, wanting it to be colder in the heat of the summer when his skin burned red after being outside all day, and then wanting it to be warmer in the winter when the wind chill left him just as red as he was in the summertime. "Although it would be mean-spirited of me to complain with Christmas so close, don't you think?" He wasn't sure why he'd fallen into such a conversational tone with her, but it came more naturally than resuming the mildly antagonistic dynamic that they'd left off on, what, seven years prior?

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set by lady <3

It seemed he had settled into bachelor life quite well. His courteous nod and quick response told of at least moderate success in society functions. Ro had a feeling if she were a hapless debutante, she would chatter on and on and Malfoy would be able to nod along as if her voice was a pleasant orchestra. Perhaps she herself was to credit for his relative passivity; he seemed to do so much listening and not much learning during their sessions. Might as well use that skill to his advantage.

She was mildly surprised at his prompting a conversation. The Malfoy she knew would have given her a tip of his hat and been on his way; perhaps not without flicking a piece of silver at her first. Instead, Ro inclined her head benevolently. "At least not complain about the weather for a man of your station, Mr. Malfoy." she remarked, with an amiable smile, unable to sneak in a bit of a jibe where she could. While sure, there were much worse things to complain about during the holidays, Ro was hard-pressed to come up with a list the length of her hand that a Malfoy could gripe over.

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Seven years had not dulled her wit, it seemed—and if they had been in private rather than the bustling streets of London, he might have leaned further into it and made some veiled comments about their differing paths in life, but he realized that simply being unmarried didn't say much about how far she'd come in the past seven years. The fabrics she wore were nicer than the ones he'd remembered seeing her wear on their off-days while in school... or were they? At that age he'd been far more vain, especially where the opposite sex was concerned, and their strange acquaintanceship had made him unwilling to turn a blind eye to the poor tailoring of the dresses she'd worn while they studied, and in truth he might have been a little too focused at finding faults in her.

Looking at her now though, it wasn't as though she'd made great strides in the fashion department. He'd undressed enough women to know what lurked beneath their skirts, and her outfits looked simple and less in line with the fashionable shape. She was not unpretty though, if a little plain; he remembered thinking even back at school how nice her silky black hair despite how simply it was styled, and her eyes were still the same dark color that made them look equally innocent and intense. She was the same Yaxley, albeit more... matured (and somehow shorter than he remembered her being. Maybe he'd grown a few inches since seeing her last).

"How would we hold a conversation if I did not complain about something and give you a chance to scold me for it?" he responded, more genuine in his teasing this time. He'd had his complaints about her, but he'd never thought she was the worst company. (He'd rather be around someone prone to arguing than a downright bore.)

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set by lady <3

As she stood there, something gnawed at her - she didn't like the way he looked at her, and she took another involuntary step back, moving the parcels in her hands to in front of her. Her previous assumptions about his time amongst society seemed to be even more solidified.

As she searched his expression Ro realized why she felt more unsettled than anything. Usually, when he regarded her it was with mild disdain, the way a student or pupil would regard a teacher. With a mild loathing and resentment. Perhaps it was Rowan misremembering, determined to hold him in the same light that she held everyone else in the upper crust: shallow, materialistic, and condescending.

"How indeed," she responded vaguely, shifting her weight as another gust of wind blew around them from the nearby restaurant. "I suppose that's most of what I did, wasn't it?" She hadn't meant to concede, yet the sentence rolled off her tongue as quick as a shot before she could stop it.

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The gust of wind stung, and on instinct he raised his hand to press the back of it against his nose. If it wasn't bright red by now, it would be in a few minutes, probably along with his ears and fingertips and knuckles. Once the air settled he brought his hand back down to his side, and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip which had begun to dry in the cold air. Her question was - admittedly one he didn't have a quick and witty answer for immediately, so he took a moment to wrap his scarf back around his neck while he tried to think of what to say.

She had done a lot of complaining, but it would have been impolite to say so. She may not have been a proper lady, but he knew better than to treat her like a classmate. Society dictated he act like a gentleman, and it was uncharitable to bring her character into question after meeting her for the first time in more than half a decade. "I did my share of complaining as well," he reminded her, a bit reluctantly although he hoped his tone did not reflect it. He still complained—a lot, actually, and he knew it was one of his shortcomings but there were far worse things he could be. He could have been cruel, prevented, intentionally obtuse or oblivious in social settings. Being a complainer was, in his opinion, at least tolerable. Except maybe to her, he reflected.

"But I cannot complain about my Astronomy NEWT, now, can I?" he asked, because he'd scored an E on it, which had been good enough for his father and thus had given him nothing more to complain about when he'd started on the second string fresh out of school.

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set by lady <3

Was...was he insisting she was the complainer amongst the two of them? Had he asked her, Rowan would have said she was the scolder; after all, she was the one who had told him time and time again to focus. Had he listened?

Ro searched his expression for any sort of jest, despite the fact it had been half a decade since they last encountered each other; not to mention she wouldn't know it if she saw it given how collectively little time they spent. Her almond eyes narrowed ever so slightly, eyebrow raised in askance. Had he not moved directly onto how he had also complained (in her estimation, an excessive amount), she might have raised a fuss.

"I suppose not," she responded, her gaze now raking the crowd to see if there was ever a glimpse of her mother in the crowd. "If you're pleased with your NEWT then I'm sure it was well earned, Mr. Malfoy." She nodded to him, bobbing a curtsey, feigning seeing her mother. "If you'll excuse me. Happy Holidays, sir." Ro lowered her gaze as she turned to duck out of the sheltered awning they'd been under. It was too late for her to see the pile of snow on the roof of a nearby stall that suddenly came crashing down.

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All things considered, the conversation had lasted longer than he would have expected had he been forewarned that he'd be meeting Rowan Yaxley in the middle of London, and yet... the way it ended, so suddenly and on such a dismissive note, rubbed him the wrong way. He hardly managed to bow his head to bid her adieu before she'd scurried off, not even meeting his eye, and he found himself staring dumbly at her as she moved towards the crowd.

... And then was promptly stopped by a blanket of snow. He grimaced as the large blanket of white hit her head of black hair, covering her head first and then slipping down to her shoulders and down the back of her dress. He could have let her go—should have, really, because it would have been easier that way—but instead he gave a pained look to no one in particular (the universe maybe, as he cursed it for putting him in this situation) and unwrapped his scarf from around his neck. It didn't take long to reach her, and he was already expecting her to say something snappy in embarrassment.

"Here," he said, holding out the scarf before she could even turn around to face him. "You'll need it."

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set by lady <3

It was all she could do to stand up straight. The fluffy snow had compacted so much on the roof it was no different than being hit in the head with a bludger. At least, that's what Rowan told herself to somehow make an excuse for the mounting embarrassment she felt. Blinking rapidly, she wondered if she might be able to disappear into the crowd without being seen. It all proved to be a daydream, as in reality, the crowd had parted and given her quite a wide berth. That no one had rushed to help and some had, in fact, chuckled slightly did nothing for Rowan's disposition.

The voice that came from behind her told her that Malfoy hadn't taken his leave. Ro spun around sending snow flying as she tugged at her own scarf. She felt her knees buckle slightly as the snow slid beneath her collar, as if an ice-cold hand gripped at the nape of her neck. She used what dry parts of her own scarf that she could to pat her already rosy cheeks before accepting his. She cupped it in her hands and patted it at her neck. There was absolutely no way to pat herself dry underneath her collar without exposing herself in an indecent way, so she merely held the warm scarf to her chest over her blouse. "Thank you." she said, before horror struck her.

Ro spun back around and stared at her bags buried beneath the snow. She hadn't realized she'd dropped them when the shock of snow hit her. "No..." She murmured, reaching for the nearest bag - the one that contained the jade dragon. Reaching into the bag, she took it out and unwrapped the paper.

"Oh no..." Her mouth dropped open in horror, the broken dragon resting in her hand in four even pieces.

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   Raphael Malfoy

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Raphael recoiled as she spun and flung little bits of snow onto his bare skin, and as she took his scarf he used his sleeve to wipe the little droplets of cold slush off his skin. He felt bad, but he didn't know her well enough or have a good enough rapport with her to express it in any meaningful way. She had to be miserable; if a tiny flurry of snow drops against his skin sent a shiver down his spine he could only imagine what it felt like to be covered. However, it didn't stop him from cringing as the delicate fabric of his scarf was ruined by the the moisture; it would never regain its fluffy texture, and would probably remain a shade or two darker even when it dried.

His focus didn't remain on his scar for too long, though, because she'd begun panicking and his gaze flickered between her and her bag as he tried to figure out why she seemed to frantic so suddenly. She reached inside and pulled out an ornament of sorts made in the image of something he couldn't pick out now that it had broken. Initially he didn't realize why she seemed so upset—it was just an ornament, right? It didn't look particularly old or expensive... but then he realized, oh.

"That's... terrible luck," he said, struggling to balance his desire to seem sympathetic with his fear of making too big a deal out of it. It wasn't so expensive, but probably more expensive than she could afford. "Surely a spell could mend it? You're good with those, I remember."

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set by lady <3

Ro still couldn’t find words, as she stared down at her hands, the jade ornament lying there. It had broken in clean pieces, no shards, as if it was meant to do so. Mama wasn’t going to like this. She pressed her lips together, her eyes stinging. Whether it was from the incessant wind now blowing into them or the broken symbol in her hands, she pushed it down. Pushed it away before taking a deep breath. ”It’s not that I can’t mend it.” She said, crestfallen. ”It’s that I broke it in the first place. I broke it, and even if I mended it, it still broke into four pieces.”

Her mind buzzed; again, whether from the weather or from the impending bad luck that she feared was going to descend upon them. Her family had already suffered through so much, what would happen if something else struck them? They were still in the midst of repairing their family. If it fractured again, it would be as swift and clean as the broken jade; and unlike the jade, they wouldn’t be able to repair their family again.

Ro sniffed, ducking her head as if she was examining the figurine and tapped it twice with her wand, murmuring, ”Reparo.” A chill went through her and she shuddered again. This time she knew it wasn’t because of the cold.

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This was... not a side he thought he'd ever seen of her, and he wasn't sure how to react to it. He'd never been very good at being sensitive; his sisters were all high-strung in their own ways and he'd never paid much mind to them other than to fulfill his duties as their older brother, and growing up he'd never been one to keep friends of the fairer sex. If she would have been a stranger—not even a debutante, but if she'd jus been a woman he didn't have this mildly antagonistic background with—he might have been able to muster a kind smile and reassure her that it would be fine, that with a simple spell it would be like new, but knowing her as he did (and then not knowing her for so many years) all he could do was stare at her his lips pulled tight in discomfort.

"I can't pretend to know what that means," he said, referring to her gripe with the number of pieces it had broken into. If anything breaking into four pieces made it all the easier to mend. "But things happen. You worry too much." As if proving him right she repaired it in front of him, revealing the ornament to be sculpted with jade to look like a dragon. What a curious thing to fret over, he thought, shoving his hands into his pockets, both to protect his skin from the cold and because he suddenly felt even more awkward.

"And you—you'll need to warm up. Do you live close?" He wasn't sure whether offering to walk her home was something she would take the wrong way. Though his offer was rooted in chivalry rather than charity, he knew she was unlikely to view it that way.

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set by lady <3

It was foolish of her - foolish to assume that he would be anything remotely close to considerate. Ro bristled, not bothering to hide her irritation. She waved her wand at the snow to make it hover in the air. She briefly considered hurling it at him instead and making a quick getaway, but decided against it given that it was the holidays.

"You haven't changed one bit," she replied as the circle of snow spun in a circle and quickly dispersed into the already cloudy sky. Best not leave it back where it was for some other unfortunate victim. She stashed her wand away and handed him back the scarf.

"I'll need to find my mother, she's around here somewhere." She couldn't help but feel how soft the scarf was - it must have been expensive. Her lips pressed in a hard line. "I'm sorry. I'll replace that one."

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So that was a no, then. It seemed she hadn't even considered his offer, or hadn't appreciated it enough to answer if she had. He couldn't help but feel annoyed at her comment, because he had changed—that's exactly what he'd been trying to prove by offering to walk her home, wasn't it? Then again he wasn't really sure he owed it to her to prove he'd changed, because it wasn't like he'd ever wronged her. At least not directly.

As she handed him back his scarf he didn't even bother to try and wrap it back around his neck and instead let it lay limp over his forearm. "No you won't," he said, not sure what he'd been meaning by that. She wouldn't have to replace it because he'd offered it, but she also wouldn't replace it because she wouldn't be able to afford it. "Don't worry about it. Um -" He looked around, hoping to catch sight of her mom so he could send her off back into the crowd untroubled, but then he realized he didn't know what her mother looked.

"If you're sure you don't need anything..." See? He could be considerate. He was considerate. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet and balled up his fists in his pockets. His gaze found hers, but he was distant—looking at her but not really seeing her. "... Happy Christmas, then."

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set by lady <3