Eugene felt instantly colder once Miss MacFusty moved, but he was glad she was alright. An involuntary shiver rand down his spine as he managed to haul himself to his feet. "Good thinking." He hummed out as she mentioned finding a linen closet. There had to be a bed around here somewhere as well. Hopefully it too was not as dusty as everything else.

First he should probably try the fireplace, and so he cast a splitting spell at the log and moved everything to the hearth quickly. He hadn't any idea if it would actually work, if the damper was even open, but they needed something to warm up by before they froze to death. He ignited the logs with a wave of his wand and a merry little fire roared into life. Once that was taken care of, he shook out of his own coat and laid it across the chair by the door. He kicked out of his shoes too; they may as well get comfortable, something told him they would be here a while.

He cast a wary look at Miss MacFusty before disappearing into the next room, which did so happen to be the bedroom. Eugene looked through the closet and they were in luck! A plethora of extra blankets that didn't even smell too musty. He pulled everything from the cupboard, including the pillows and returned to the main room with a triumphant grin. He set everything down in front of the fireplace. "I'll uh, check the kitchen for some rags to clean that gash up with. You should probably get out of those wet clothes." He said it casually, without really thinking how it could come across, before meandering across the room to the opposite side and out of view.

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She sat in silence, watching him cut the trunk and transport the wood into the fireplace. Biting her lip, Tilda looked down at her own wand, wondering why it hadn't worked. Upon further inspection, she saw there was a small but quite noticeable crack at the hilt. She pursed her lips, turning the wand over in her hands again, wondering if she would be able to mend it once they were out of this mess. It dawned on her that now she couldn't use magic, and she looked up to see that Mr. Scamander had managed to light a fire that was now crackling merrily beside her. The stone against her back still felt like ice, but she knew it would warm up.

It didn't seem like it would happen soon enough though. By the time she'd heard him shuffle around in a linen closet, she could feel the fabric of her clothes practically freeze on her body. The fire helped some, but it would take all night for her dress to dry off. Even then, she was beginning to feel extremely uncomfortable in it. Sand had gotten in every possible place it could, she was surprised she hadn't brought half the sea into the cottage with them. A movement caught her eye and she looked to see Mr. Scamander doff his jacket and shoes at the door.

Tilda blinked stupidly, her eyes moving from trailing on his turned back to the door. Was she to get undressed? It took a moment for her to process that, although he hadn't told her to do so, it would help if she did. Layers and layers of fabric were hardly going to dry any faster, nor keep her any warmer. She watched as he soon came back with a large number of linens, and she felt relief that they would have something to keep warm. But his suggestion soon saw her freeze as she reached for a blanket, and she stood up quickly bracing herself against the wall, watching him retreat to another room.

She stood there in the room, clutching the blanket and looking around rather helplessly. She would freeze if she stayed in these clothes. Merlin help her. While the MacFusty clan were far from the ideal societal family, the idea of anyone finding out that her first time truly alone with Mr. Scamander had seen her disrobed was truly mortifying. There was truly no other way.

Slowly, Tilda's hands fiddled with the back of her dress, eventually finding the laces and managing to untie them herself. Her eyes flickered occasionally to the other room as she quickly took off the top, moving across the room to lay it flat on the table. Next was the skirt, which was easier than the laces of the top. She'd just managed to get her injured foot out of the hoop of the skirt when a noise at the door made her look up.

It was Mr. Scamander. Back with rags and other supplies to bandage up her leg. With her standing in the middle of the room, bent over and in her undergarmets. Tilda let out a mortified squeak and she seized the corner of a blanket. "Avert your eyes!" She cried, finally tugging the blanket loose and drawing it up to her chest in a feeble attempt to cover herself.

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The kitchen didn't have much to it either, though he was able to find a couple of somewhat clean (by a sniff test) towels and of all things, a bottle of wine somebody had forgotten in a bottom cabinet. It would do, he supposed, to get them through until the storm quieted.

The squeak upon his re-entry to the main room had him jumping, nearly dropping the bottle in his hand and he immediately turned away from Miss MacFusty at her request. Laughing to himself, despite how it could be taken, Eugene set the wine aside and began using one of the towels to dry off his hair.

"My apologies, He chuckled. "But if it makes you feel any better, I have four sisters, there is not much I haven't seen in the ways of women's undergarments." Not that made it any more proper, but he did hope it helped lighten the mood. Not to mention she had seen him in some state of undress on more than one occasion.

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She'd involuntarily also covered her eyes as she'd commanded him to turn around, so when she heard him set the wine on the table and heard the faint ruffling sound, she dared a peek over the blanket. He had preoccupied himself with drying his hair, and she caught herself watching his back as he worked the towel through his hair. As soon as she felt the blush creep into her cheeks again, Tilda shook herself and fully stepped out of her skirt before pulling the blanket around her and walking over to lay the damaged skirt out to dry.

She'd known that he had sisters, given the fact that he'd mentioned them at one time or another, but she'd never actually come across any of them before. From the way his family sounded, he likely did feel far more comfortable around women in their underthings than she did actually doing so. But it wasn't as if she could simply walk around huddled in the blankets. Honestly, she'd feel more ridiculous that way.

"Very well," she replied, her voice still high with apprehension, realizing she had multiple layers of petticoats to remove. It was best to not think about the incredulity of the situation and just accept it.

Picking up her skirts to make sure she didn't trip over the hem, she made her way to the table, setting her shoes on the floor before going about unfastening each petticoat and laying them out to dry. It was during this process that she suddenly remembered that he had been attempting to tell her something before they'd made a run for it. To avoid thinking about how she would soon be standing in front of him in her shift, Tilda said, "You were about to say something." She glanced at her petticoats laid out. They all took a great deal of space, but there was no other way to arrange them. It was no wonder she preferred her healer's robes to ball gowns!

"Before I —" Before she ran into the ocean and got them in this mess they were in. "Before, when you were talking about this past summer." She continued, finally out of the last petticoat and in her petticoat bodice, corset, and chemise. Tilda's stomach flipped even thinking about taking those off next, so she walked next to the fireplace to take care of her stockings instead and ignored the way her heart started racing in anticipation for his response.

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Once his hair was no longer dripping down his neck, Eugene debated the merits is taking off his shirt to dry out, but it seemed that Miss MacFusty was already uncomfortable (and rightly so, given the impropriety of they're situation), and so he thought better of it. Once he got near the fire he would probably be alright.

He didn't dare move until she told him to, however, and so he busied himself trying to dry off whatever else it was he could reasonably make a difference with.

It was a close call though, when she brought up what he'd been starting to address earlier in the evening, he almost turned to look at her, but caught himself just in time. What a time to have this conversation. Still, they would be better a while and nobody was listening in... "I forgot about that entirely," And he had, truthfully after received that had transpired in the last few minutes, he had completely forgotten his original intention for their walk.

"Is it alright if I come closer to the fire?" He was starting to shiver now.

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"Oh," while she shouldn't have been surprised at his forgetting, she was; disappointedly so, and she paused halfway through taking her stockings off. Perhaps it wasn't that important then. But at the time it seemed like something he had waited for the right moment to broach the topic. It was hardly as if now was the right time either. "Alright, then." She replied, hastening to remove the rest of her stockings. The blood on her leg had dried with the proximity of the hearth, and she winced slightly as she peeled the fabric off of her skin. Well, that was it for those pair of stockings. She might as well throw them away.

His request reached her and she paused, her heart picking up again. It would really be the first time that any man had seen her in such a state of undress, but she couldn't keep him from the warmth of the fire either. She nodded silently, then remembered he couldn't see her and spoke up. "Yes, of - of course." she said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. Whether it was because she was cold or merely filled with nervous energy, she didn't know. "I'm sorry," she continued, stooping to pick up a blanket to wrap around her shoulders. Even with the heat of the fire and the blanket, the cold fabric of her chemise clung to her and she shivered again. "We can talk about something else if you'd like."

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Keeping his eyes averted, Eugene grabbed the wine and moved back towards the fireplace, pausing to grab the remaining pillows and blankets on his way to get comfortable. He set the pillows down and enlarged them to be more comfortable to sit on and shook out the spare blanket to wrap around his shoulders. Hopefully everything would dry out soon enough.

"No, no, just a conversation I would rather have face to face." He assured her with a tentative smile. Eugene took a seat on the cushy pillow and set the wine down on the floor in front of him, eyes trained on the fire for the moment while he revisited how he wanted to start this conversation.

"I would like to admit, given the circumstances, that there are few people I would rather be stuck in an abandoned cabin in a hurricane with." The chill in his bones was starting to ebb and the nerves were starting to rise once more. He chanced a glance at Miss MacFusty, eyes going straight to hers. "I was hoping my intentions with your time this summer were obvious, as I truly enjoy your company," More than he was prepared to admit, but he had grown rather fond of her across their acquaintance. "And therefore your continued agreement to see me meant I was not alone in that thought." Hopefully anyway. "So I hoped that's we might be able to make things a little more official, but there are some things I would like to address with you first." Merlin he hoped this storm did not extend to Hogsmeade. His knowledge of geography led him to believe otherwise, but magical storms likely did not obey normal laws of nature.

He left it there however, hoping for a little affirmation before making a fool of himself.

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A conversation face to face? As opposed to letters, she supposed, but it was rather opportune that they were now alone and without a chaperone. Really, that would have made the situation all the more difficult if this was to be a longer conversation...which it now seemed to be. His admission to preferring to being alone in an abandoned cabin with her brought a smile to her lips. Given their circumstances, she could return the sentiment easily and without shame. Their time this past summer had been quite enjoyable. She'd even enjoyed dancing with him at the Minister's Ball, however bad of a dancer she thought herself. That he didn't seem to mind was all the more endearing, and Tilda met his gaze with warmth in her eyes.

She waited until he paused to fully smile at him. Her heart had, if possible, swelled in her chest and it was all she could do to keep from running to him. "You wouldn't be wrong in your assumptions, Mr. Scamander," she replied, her voice shockingly level. If his voice had any sort of a warning in it, it went completely over her head. "I think - no, I know - I've quite enjoyed your company for the summer. And well beyond it, if I'm being truthful."

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He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until she passed him that warm look at admitted to reciprocating his feelings. Phew. Hopefully that would make this next part easier... or harder. Fuck.

"With that in mind, I need you to know a couple of things about me and my life." They had only met in social, sometimes professional settings, when he was not (at the moment) responsible for being a father. Then there was the whole situation with Astrild to deal with as well. Hopefully that would be over within the next year. Which was another factor entirely. Not to mention, Miss MacFusty may have no interest in raising someone else's child, and for that he could not blame her either.

He sighed softly and uncorked the wine, taking a swig to steel himself, Eugene turned his attention to Miss MacFusty once more. "This may come as a bit of a shock and it was not my intention to keep it from you, which is why I wanted to have this discussion privately, but I find myself in such a strange predicament that it is often hard to discuss." It sounded worse when he tried to explain it aloud. "There are two important things, that I will explain fully, but at the most basic level, you need to know that for one, I am currently married." In the eyes of the law only. He didn't even wear a wedding band, obviously. "And that marriage produced a young son, who is just about two and a half years old." He winced, not because of Theseus, no, his son was one of the best things to ever happen to him, but the whole fiasco was just a wreck.

"I can explain." He added, though paused to gauge her reaction.

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Perhaps it was the swig of wine that warned her. While Tilda herself had never been much of a nervous drinker, she certainly recognized that trait in other people.

Even with the visual clues that Mr. Scamander gave her - the drink of wine, the nervousness radiating off of him, the fact that he’d sat down - nothing could have prepared her for such a confession.

It all sunk in with the effect of lead in water. He'd warned her it would be a shock, and he was right. The smile that had just recently danced across her lips faded, and faded quickly as she processed what he'd just told her. The blanket in her hands dropped to the floor, his words playing over in her head. I am currently married. "You're...married?" She echoed softly, letting the words stumble off her tongue.

He was married. With a son, no less!

Tilda stared at the floor, stricken and unable to form the proper words. It was as if a great cavern had just opened at the base of the hearth and he'd pushed her in. But...but then why had he paid her so much attention this past summer? Why hadn't he told her about his wife? Her gaze went back to him, suddenly horrified. Did his wife know about me?

"I don't..." Tilda tried, but the words died in her throat. "I don't understand..."

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Well at least she wasn't outraged. Disappointed it seemed, which hopefully he could rectify with his explanation. "According to the law, yes." In no other way did he feel married, other than he had inherited the world's most patient in-laws. While Astrild had abandoned them, the rest of the Fraser family had stepped in to help him raise Theseus, and for that he could not be more grateful. Still it left him in a sticky situation.

"I'm sure you remember the Amortentia letter incident a few years back." Merlin he wished she would sit down, or he could stand up without it being awkward. Being on different levels left him off kilter and needing to fidget. "I did not remember being involved, the potion was particularly potent apparently, and I did not find out until several months later when Theseus' mother was on my doorstep, with a marriage license and in labor." That had been a true shock. It was also where things got weird.

"It sounds unbelievable, but she was an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries and she tried to go back in time to reverse the... Situation she had found herself in. Needles to say it didn't work, and she gave birth regardless." Eugene felt like he was rambling, but he needed to get it all out. " I tried to do the right thing, I took them in, took care of everything, tried to become a husband and a father practically overnight, it was a long strained year or trying to make it work, but shortly after his first birthday, she left, abandoned Theseus with me, for a hedge coven in Scandinavia with no word. I found out from her parents a week later." Leaving him was one thing, but leaving Theseus was another thing entirely. Eugene had a hard time forgiving or forgetting that and he had no idea what he would do if Astrild ever showed up again, but it would be an ugly battle.

"I need to wait a full two years to divorce on the grounds of abandonment. I haven't heard from her in eighteen months." He was so close, but Miss MacFusty deserved the whole truth and there it was.

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Unbelievable was one word for it. Tilda remembered the Amortentia letters - they'd luckily left her alone then, but that didn't stop her from hearing about the after-effects. If his name was mentioned to her, she'd simply lumped his situation in with all the others that she'd encountered and left it alone. In retrospect, she was berating herself for not paying more attention; clearly, she had not escaped the effects of the Amortentia letters. They'd found her somehow, and she was left reeling while they laughed in her face.

What a joke. Was this a joke?

Completely forgetting the state of undress she was in, Tilda dropped the blanket and turned to face the wall, face the fireplace, anywhere but face him. But his voice still reached her and she willed herself to process what he was saying. He hadn't even been with his wife for the entire pregnancy, and then she shows up out of nowhere on his doorstep in labor. Someone had to be having a laugh somewhere. Before him, Tilda hadn't allowed herself — hadn't thought that anyone would show any sort of feelings towards her given her family's status. Then along came Mr. Scamander and every trouble, every worry she had seemed to slowly dissolve like a fine, elegant mist. Until, of course, it solidified again and slapped her in the face.

Married. With a son and not intending - no - not able to divorce for another six months.

Having paced so much it was a surprise she hadn't trodden a path into the floor of their cabin, Tilda finally sank down, ignoring the slow-burning on her leg from the injury. In a way, it had helped to clear her mind. But only slightly. Head in her hands, the witch shook her head. "I've been so stupid." she muttered. So stupid.

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Eugene hadn't had any preconceptions as to how this conversation was going to go, but clearly it was going poorly. She was pacing and looking anywhere but at him and he had a sinking feeling in his gut that this might not work out in his favor after all. "The fault is mine entirely, I should have told you sooner, but I couldn't find the right words."

Finally she stopped and slid down to the floor, though not very close to him and he felt the chill of the moment settle over him like an ice bath. Waiting a beat, he struggled to figure out what else he could say about the whole thing. It was clearly a mess and he supposed he really couldn't blame her if she decided to wash her hands of him, to but he would be gutted if that was the case. "I truly don't know her, though we shared a house, we didn't share anything else aside from Theseus. No affection, no feelings, not even meals." His tone had a tint of desperation to it now, imploring her to see his side.

"She left her own infant son and took off without telling me. There is, nor ever was, any love lost between her and I, not like the way I care about you." He admitted it with a pained sigh. Eugene was typically not that best with emotions, but this was too important to mince words.

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We didn't share anything else aside from Theseus. No affection, no feelings, not even meals.

They had shared a bed once, even if it was only for a night and neither of them remembered. The thought invaded her mind and Tilda shook her head, begging it to retreat. His last words certainly made her freeze, and she met his gaze, her heart jumping to her throat once again. He was well and truly trapped. And so she seemed to be. "But what does that make me?" she asked, stammering slightly as a gust of cold air hit her. She shivered, "Six months you will still be newly divorced." She'd never cared much about what society thought of her or her family where their profession was concerned, but she never thought she would be confronted with this situation.

A sudden and unexplained wave of anger overcame her and she stood up. "And what would that make me should I admit my feelings for you?" She demanded, running a hand through her hair as she began pacing back and forth again. "Until six months' time, where would that leave me? Where does that leave you and - and -" It was hard to get out. "And your son?" Panic started to settle into the pit of her stomach as she glanced back at him, then looked down at her own appearance. If word got out or if anyone saw them, she would be ruined. Her career would shrivel to nonexistence - no one would want to be alone in a room with her, much less be touched by her and let her heal them.

She whirled back around to stare at him, this time desperation coating her gaze. "How would we explain that to your family? To my family?" If she even had a family left. The reality of what they'd left behind at the ballroom hit her, and tears welled up in her eyes as the room started to spin.

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Eugene stood as she did, but stayed in his own space, giving her plenty of room. He needed an outlet for the nervous energy, no matter how desperately he wanted to cross the room to her and do something about it. Everything she brought up was a legitimate concern, many of which he shared and he had no real answer for.

Shifting his weight slowly from side to side, Eugene let his shoulders drop as if in defeat. "It doesn't make us anything but what we are; two people with mutual feelings stuck in an unconventional situation." He could ascertain that much from her reaction; he was not alone in his affections here, which is what was making it so difficult, or so he hoped.

"Unfortunately nothing can change until the spring." He knew that, no matter how much he wished otherwise. "Theseus does not know his own mother, he thinks it's just the two of us and my very capable, very necessary nanny." Thank Merlin for Nan. "I would never let it fall back on you or your family." Eugene would follow the steps to the letter, if he knew that she would wait for him. They had managed the summer in one another's company without anything more than a sideways glance Miss MacFusty hadn't even likely noticed. "My family is very well aware of the situation I am in with Theseus' mother." Even now he couldn't bring himself to call Astrild his wife. "And what will happen when the two year's time is up. Her parents won't contest anything." Eugene was certain that Ewart and Ailsa would just want what was best for Theseus and that included a maternal figure in his life.

"I just," He paused, unsure of what it was he needed to say next, but knew they were sitting on a very precarious precipice and could tumble any which way. "I wanted you to know everything, in hopes we could work through it, but I can understand if it seems too difficult or if there are roles you are unable to take on;" A stepmother in an unconventional family with extended relatives who were not really hers. It was a mess, truly, but he had to believe they could work through it with enough time. Eugene held his hands out to the side slightly in surrender, leaving the decision entirely up to her.

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She would have been lying if she said she hadn't been hoping for a better answer. Anything else than do nothing but wait and she stared helplessly at him as a tear fell down her cheek. The gravity of their situation paired with Mr. Scamander's situation left her well and truly speechless. Knowing now that it would take 6 months for anything to ever happen between them...it left her feeling unsettled. Wanting, wishing for there to have been less time.

And now, knowing that there was a son that needed a mother. Something else rose inside her and Tilda scowled - not at him, though her attention was still toward him. How could a mother have left her child behind like that? Even every single dragon they'd had to separate from their children fought tooth and nail (some nearly to the death) to be with their children; some nights Tilda was left in tears because they had no choice. And here was a baby that needed a mother and she was nowhere to be found, and willingly so.

Despite this rage that had settled into her heart, she still couldn't find the words to speak. She wanted to believe he would still want her after this was all over, but that was certainly no guarantee, and she bit her lip. "What do you want?" She asked in a small voice, suddenly avoiding his gaze, because she knew what she wanted the answer to be. Me.

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