May 16, 1888 — Yaxley Manor

@“Livia Crabbe”

Mr. Yaxley is in the library, the butler had informed the former Miss Yaxley with a bow, and with sure steps led her to the great double doors embossed with Arcadian motifs–an artist’s imagining, they had been told when they were younger, of the ancient wizarding village that had borne their name. There wasn’t much time to admire the reliefs, however; after a moment of pause the manservant rapped smartly on the wood, and both swung inwards to reveal the towering shelves that housed the family’s trove of knowledge.

At the foot of one these was a table, minuscule in comparison to the looming structures; even smaller was the figure who sat at it, several large rolls of parchment stacked neatly beside him.

“Mr. Yaxley,” the butler announced; despite the apparent distance, the man looked up immediately. “Mrs. Crabbe has arrived.”

“Thank, thank…you, Brown. You...may leave.”

The servant, far used to his master’s odd speech patterns (or at the very least intelligent enough to pretend so), simply bowed and left. It was only when the doors clicked shut after him that the man rose. “I, I...” he announced as he approached, “will never truly be used...to referring to you as ‘Mrs. Crabbe—Crabbe’...Livia.”

  

Her brother was by no means perfect, but he'd deserved far better than he'd received. There were definitely some things she'd change about him — his odd hobbies, his manner of handling his family, and more specifically, his odd pattern of speech! It was far from dignified to speak in broken sentences and broken thoughts; if she hadn't grown up alongside him, she might not have ever comprehended a word that left his mouth!

Not that she would scold him about that in his own home — that could wait until he entered her terrain.

"No worries, brother. Once a Yaxley, always a Yaxley," she teased, taking a seat across from him.

  

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— I've been blessed once more by MJ —

☙ Post Log ❧

At the other's friendly familiarity--a rare experience to him, especially now that he was married--Gregory couldn't help but, for a split second, grin. It almost made his looks ascend past generically handsome. "Then--then so it shall be."

He took his own seat; then, he grasped his wand and, with two graceful swishes, levitated a tray towards the now-cleared table. "I, well, apologize for the...the clutter, sister," he said as the platter, laden with an ice-cold pitcher of iced tea and two heavily misted crystalline glasses, settled where the parchment once was. "Do you, uh, still enjoy orange--or cherry, rather--iced tea?"

  

Livia sat patiently, allowing her brother to skim through his own thoughts before speaking in return. His brain was as cluttered as his living space, apparently, but he (luckily) hadn't reached a point where he was forgetful yet. She smiled as he rearranged the table and allowed the tea to stop sloshing around inside the cup before bringing it towards her lips.

"I suppose your life as been as idle and boring as mine?" she teased before taking a sip of her drink. Her eyes scanned him, noting that he still looked as young as ever — no wrinkles, untidy grey hairs, nor any signs of premature weight gain. So what was the problem? Why was Phoebe so displeased with him as her husband?

  

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— I've been blessed once more by MJ —

☙ Post Log ❧

“Idle? Yes...boring?” He shook his head, his own beverage for the moment untouched. “Not...not at all! There’s been so much material—atlases and loose maps and accounts—I’ve bought lately that—that it is absolutely the...opposite.” His cadence was, as usual, fast to the point of near-incoherence, with an added dash of uncommon passion. After a beat or so, however, he seemed to realize something that had slipped his mind previously; he once again retreated into reserve. “I am regretful—or sorry, rather. Has your life not been...occupied?”

  

Livia laughed at her brother's remarks, though there was definitely a pinch of salt hidden in the sweet. Of course he enjoyed his idle time; he was idle by choice. Livia, along with many of high society's wives, had idleness forced upon them — which was enough to displease Livia despite her lack of desire for a career.

"There's no need to concern yourself with me, brother. All wives reach a point where they must break routine and pursue other things." Namely charity and other philanthropic pursuits (and she supposed her time was coming). "If only we could all enjoy what's regular forever."

  

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— I've been blessed once more by MJ —

☙ Post Log ❧

"No--well--no need? I..." He considered his sister, expression serious, from across the table. "...I suppose. And for th--as for that, rather--breaking routine, I mean--you know more than me, well, in that respect, and yet when I look...at my darling wife, I mean--" Gregory laughed, suddenly. "I cannot see it."

  

Livia's brows shot up on her forehead.

"Mrs. Yaxley is still young; she has plenty of time to enjoy what society offers her as a married woman before pursuing other causes. Give her time." There were other things Gregory should be giving her less time with (see: children), but Livia didn't think it smart to engage in that topic with her brother at the moment.

  

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— I've been blessed once more by MJ —

☙ Post Log ❧

Instead of replying, he can't help another laugh, this time at Livia's expression. "Apologies--apologies. I must, well, admit: it has--it has been a long time since, well, I have seen such an expression on...you, sister." Too long, he reflected, along with emotions other than polite interest and cheer. Was that calcifying of expression the mark, perhaps, of a woman who needed a change? "And on, err, the subject of Mrs. Yaxley: I think--I shall, I mean--attempt to." He finally chances a sip of his iced tea. "I'm afraid that my...err, my--deficiency of overpatience is still with me, however."

  

Livia subtly rolled her eyes, making sure her brother's gaze was elsewhere before doing so.

"Perhaps you should focus on your own matters. Pursue your own interests." Work on that stammer or whatever caused such irregularities in his speech patters. "And perhaps Mrs. Yaxley may come around on her own accord." (And by that, she meant she'd handle Phoebe herself.)

  

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— I've been blessed once more by MJ —

☙ Post Log ❧

As if just waiting for the other to say something along those lines, Gregory noticably brightened as soon as the words came out from Livia's mouth. "True, true," he said, already waving the drinks away. "And, well, I...do have things--matters--to attend to." He reached to his side and, with a practiced motion, spread a piece of parchment, a square a foot or so a side. Drawn on it carefully was (would anyone be surprised?) a map, labelled 'High Street' in the man's own careful lettering--and, moving through the two-dimensional space, countless dots with dense black names beside them.

  

Livia had always wondered why cartography was the interest Gregory had chosen to occupy his time. Hadn't there been anything more- er, suited for a man of his status? Even something that hadn't been done by others would have been more interesting. Sadly, the Browne family on High Street specialized in maps, and they were much better than anything she imagined her brother could conjure up. Even quidditch sponsoring, with other sponsors like Roberto Devine or Thomas Pettigrew on that scene, would have been more appropriate.

"What have you been working on lately?" she asked, trying to sneak a peek at the map. Even if she didn't approve, it was good to give the illusion that she did. (Besides, if Gregory's wife couldn't keep him happy, something had to.)

  

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— I've been blessed once more by MJ —

☙ Post Log ❧

"Well..." Her brother tapped the map gently with his wand. "Mostly, I've been...well, testing the...err, do you know of the Homoculous charm?--oh, look, the Brownes--the--yes, those are the Brownes--are going out today...as a family."

  

Wide-eyed and scandalized, Livia tried to grab the parchment out of her brother's hands.

"Gregory!" she gasped, her expression shifting to one of confusion and anger. "That's immoral! You can't just spy on people! There- There are regulations in place!" she shrieked, unsure if there really were.

  

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— I've been blessed once more by MJ —

☙ Post Log ❧

Surprise tipped the scale in Livia's favor; as the map left the man''s hands, he looked at her with mostly bemusement. "Livia," he said, attempting to be placating (thank Merlin the library was soundproofed), "from a, well--from a legal standpoint, there is nothing currently in...the law that bans charmed--which this technically is--maps for personal use, nor the usage of the Homoculous charm. And, well, honestly, immoral it is not: I--I do not see forms, but dots, and I don't...know what they are doing, just, well, going. And that doesn't--it doesn't even register, once they get off the map."

  

Flabbergasted, Livia threw herself back in her seat. What else had her brother been experimenting with? Maps that could predict what people might do next? Things that, in the wrong hands, might lead to crime on their streets?

Or worse: would he find out that she was, well, sleeping around? (Not that she imagined it would do more than damage his opinion of her; the thought of that knowledge finding its way into his wife's arsenal was the frightening part.)

"You have no right to have this, no matter what regulations are on the book," she asserted. He was a Hufflepuff — he should have a solid understanding of right from wrong. Maybe Phoebe had been having a previously-undetected effect on him! "I'm going to burn it- no, you do it," she insisted, thrusting the map back into his hands.

  

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— I've been blessed once more by MJ —

☙ Post Log ❧