July 4th, 1891 — Interactive Art Exhibit, Museum of Magical Miscellany

The Art Exhibit was one of the few events of the season that did not require her to interact with a dozen people to be viewed as a success. It was a museum—couldn't she simply stand around and look pretty? She was no verity, but her skin was clear and her dresses, although one year out-of-season, hung prettily enough on her body. She could be an art piece, a statue.

Except it became clear upon her arrival that this was no ordinary art exhibit. One of the staff members, hearing that she had no clue what she was expected to do, made quick business of ushering her into one of the rooms, which was distinctly not her vibe.

There were people there—plenty, actually, and all dressed in typical styles for the season—but he setting was distinctly primeval, the walls dark and the props enchanted in a way that made Grace feel as though she was really in the dungeon on display. She wandered through, her eyes permanently widened as she found herself increasingly invested in the story being told. There were creatures in the background, far enough away to keep her pulse at a steady rate, but as she passed by a statue goblin, she stopped to admire the artistry.

And then it yelled at her.

Grace let out a yelp and stumbled backwards... right into the frontside of another person. A gentleman. Grace turned around, her mouth already opened to apologize, but then she saw who it was, and her expression changed: eyes still wide, her lips clamped shut in a tight line, and her cheeks went warm. "I—My goodness, I didn't—I didn't mean to," she stammered, unsure if she was more spooked by the goblin statue or the presence of the familiar face.

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August Echelon-Arnost

  

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This wasn't entirely August's scene, being a little weird for him, but he didn't want to leave too quickly and potentially attract attention for having left too quickly. Of course, he didn't particularly want to spend a great deal of time in a dungeon — his desire to exit rose every time he heard one of the exhibitions make a sound. Luckily nothing near him had, yet, until —

He flinched, at first at the noise and then at the woman stumbling into him.

"Oh," August said, as if that would summarize his astonishment and contain the sharp pain that went up his leg. He attempted a smile, but it came out a little sheepish. "Hello again, Miss Greengrass." He tapped the bottom of the cane against the floor, hoping this would resettle him.

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set by Bree

Mr. Echelon-Arnost neither accepted her apology nor acknowledged her clumsiness, and she wasn't sure whether to be grateful or whether she should double down on her apology. His smile was strained—or maybe he, like her, was uncomfortable here, but she was more inclined to believe it was her that caused it. "Hello, Mr. Echelon-Arnost," she replied guiltily, like she'd just been caught doing something she shouldn't have.

Her bottom lip having slipped into a pout, she glanced in both directions, still on edge from the sudden startle. So much for being educational—Grace felt as though she'd just walked into a house of haunts. "Are you enjoying the, um...?" She made a vague gesture to their surroundings, but it was clear from her tone that she was not enjoying it.

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The pain started to subside, at least enough that August felt more like he could participate in the conversation, and enough that he noticed that Miss Greengrass was now pouting. He — wasn't sure what to do about that. Her question startled him into a more genuine grin. "I'm not sure I would use enjoying to describe what I think," he said, bemused, "Have you tried any of the other rooms?" Maybe they were better.

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set by Bree

The pout slipped off Grace's face and was replaced by a giggle that she hid behind a hand. It was a giggle of relief, not just amusement—she hadn't been able to articulate her uneasiness in the exhibit before, but it came out much easier once Mr. Echelon-Arnost expressed his own lack of enjoyment. "I had the misfortune of finding this one first," she explained, a sheepish smile on her face when she dropped her hand. "I don't suppose the others are any better?" She couldn't even remember what they were.

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"I haven't gotten a chance to look," August admitted, with a rueful expression. "But I think one of them involves a castle? It's hopefully less —" he paused, tried to find a word and found himself unable "— less."

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set by Bree

"Less," Grace agreed, nodding. Anything could be less than this, really—anything that didn't involve darkness and dungeons and unhappy goblins, at least. "A castle sounds like a vast improvement," she commented, gazing in the direction of the exit. On one hand, she would be more than happy to flee to the next room on her own; on the other hand, she didn't want to make Mr. Echelon-Arnost feel unwelcome to come with her if this was his way of insinuating he wished to leave.

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She obviously wanted to leave; August just couldn't tell if she wanted to leave with him. He didn't mind either way. They didn't know each other well, but he'd enjoyed their previous conversation. So he wouldn't take it particularly personally either way. So he said, "I would be amenable to heading that way myself, if it wouldn't intrude."

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set by Bree

Grace felt her heart leap. Mr. Echelon-Arnost had been nice to her before, but even in the days after their conversation she'd struggled to regain the confidence in the presence of men that she'd felt during that one conversation. She'd told herself he was just being polite, but now that he was offering to accompany her, there was a little whisper in her mind that said maybe you aren't as much a bother as you thought.

So she smiled at him. "I see no point in us going separately if we're going to the same place," she replied. She didn't think her brother would mind. Wasn't he always going on about her talking to non-relatives, anyways?

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The following 1 user Likes Grace Greengrass's post:1 user Likes Grace Greengrass's post
   August Echelon-Arnost

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August returned her smile. "I agree," he said, relieved — if she had said no, or if she had seemed uncomfortable, things would have been dreadfully awkward. "Shall we?"

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set by Bree

Nervous and tongue-tied, Grace was unable to find the right words so opted instead for a nod. With his cane, Mr. Echelon-Arnost set a slow pace, which was nice. It ensured she didn't walk too fast, stumble over the skirt of her dress, or move her arms in an ungraceful, unfeminine way. Those were the little details her mother picked at, the little details that always weighed on her while out in public.

"Do you live here, then?" she asked, smiling up at him. "In London, I mean. I like the city." Liked was a stretch of the truth to say the least, but she didn't want to bad-mouth it in case he did live here. In truth, Grace didn't enjoy any large city, as everyone was more poised than she, and far more judgmental than those in the village of Hogsmeade.

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August shook his head. "I live in Hogsmeade," he explained, "I like London, but — not all the time." He liked the quiet, and the yard that he had in Hogsmeade, and the ability to live close-by so many of his friends. "And yourself?"

They exited and entered the castle in the clouds room; August immediately found himself more at ease than he had been.

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set by Bree

Grace brightened immediately. It helped that they'd entered the castle room, where the clouds provided a more serene scene. "I live in Hogmeade, too," she said, smiling, "With my mother, my sisters, and my brothers." She could talk about her family all day if given the chance, but talking too much about them might prompt him to ask where her chaperon was, and then they'd have to part ways, and she wanted to get as much practice talking to gentleman without the backdrop of an overcrowded ball as she could!

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"That sounds like a nice, busy house," August said, because while his siblings were generally a nightmare to live with he also knew that his family was somewhat of an outlier in that regard. "It's just myself and my ward in Hogsmeade, but I have — five full siblings, and three half-siblings."

Sebastian didn't bear counting.

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set by Bree

Grace's eyes widened a little. She couldn't imagine having so many siblings; her household was always bustling and most of the year it was only Ford, Noble, Verity, and Mama there with her. "Are you one of the older or younger siblings?" she asked, trying to piece together Mr. Echelon-Arnost through these little clues. He was a good and kind man from her estimation. She hadn't figured out yet why he needed a cane, but she didn't want to ask. And then there was the other question—ward? But she felt it was rude to ask that, too, so she would wait and see what information he volunteered on his own accord. "I'm the second-youngest. My sister Clementine is still in school," she explained.

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"The younger set," August answered, "And then I'm the third of my full siblings." It was sometimes hard for August to believe that Idelle and Elsbeth were older than he was, given their general levels of maturity and lack of reasonable behavior, but it was true. Oh, well — he'd always been the oldest son, and that came with a different set of expectations.

"When did you finish with Hogwarts?"

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set by Bree