January 3rd, 1892 — Bobbin's Apothecary

"Just so you know, we finally got that order of porcupine quills in," Madge went on a she followed Mr. Greengrass around the room. This is what she did—leave the counter every time there was only one customer in, peppering them with questions and making comments on whatever product they stopped to look at. "I heard your sister is getting married, right? We've all the ingredients for a good Draught of Peace now!" This was not just a way to be helpful; this was a question, and if Mr. Greengrass was any sort of clever he'd realize it.

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Noble Greengrass

  

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Miss Bobbin was cheeky, which was to say, Noble thought he understood what she was getting at. He was happy to take his time in the apothecary when she was in, because he thought she was funny, or at least interesting. "She's excited," he said to answer, although he was not actually sure that she was. "But maybe my mother could benefit from one." Noble's eyes crinkled up at the corners with amusement.

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set by Bee

The life of a debutante was one that Madge knew extensively about, yet it was one that she'd only imagined herself living in her daydreams. It was a whole other scene, filled with parties and champagne flutes and ballgowns, and hearing stories about them was almost as exciting as imagining herself in their shoes. "Mamas are like that, though, aren't they? Always panicking over every little thing. It's in their nature," she said, continuing to follow him around, all the while placing his usual ingredients—ones that usually couldn't be found elsewhere in Hogsmeade for cheaper or at all—in a small basket for him to sift through. "And how is she? Excited, I presume?"

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"My Mama is always excited," Noble said, because he supposed that was a good word for it. Audra was always — something. Noble did not pretend to understand her, although he did love her. "But she is more excited than she usually is. Talking about all the details — table settings, et cetera." He rounded the corner of a shelf. "Do you have a new batch of ashwinder eggs yet?"

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set by Bee

A year ago, Madge could have imagined her Mama puttering around the Bobbin home, planning a wedding for Kezia had her sister been engaged. Now that Papa was dead, though, it was difficult to imagine any excitement from her; most days she was quiet, and when she was not she was fretting over the store. It was easy to forget that they were in mourning sometimes, as life in the Bobbin household never came to a stop.

"And you sister Verity, how is she? I remember her from school—in Slytherin, right? I was Ravenclaw you know, and I knew Miss Clementine better than the others because we shared a year, but I remember her." she chattered. At the mention of ashwinder eggs she drifted away from him and towards the egg section, her voice growing louder to compensate for the distance. "We did get a new batch, but you'll have to be quicker next time if you want more than a couple. They sell out fast."

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"I'll have to come back next week then," Noble said, indicating the ashwinder eggs. They were a comment ingredient in most love potions, and he was expecting an uptick in demand with St. Valentine's Day approaching. "Verity was a Slytherin, and Head Girl. I'm not surprised you knew Clem." Clem knew everybody. It was one of her Qualities. Noble suspected that Madge Bobbin also had this quality.

He followed her towards the eggs. "I was a Gryffindor, you know."

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"Please do," she said, smiling. The business was welcome, but more than anything Madge enjoyed a friendly face. "I know we're getting a shipment of crushed unicorn horn. It's a little pricey but we're low in stock across country—so a good deal overall," she chatted, adding a few extra ingredients into the basket that Madge knew went well with his regulars. It was one of the business practices her Papa had always pushed, and it rarely failed her.

"I remember it now. You're around my sister Kezia's age, aren't you? She turned twenty-two this past August. She was in Slytherin, though." She returned to Mr. Greengrass' side, holding out the basket to him with a dimpled smile.

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The following 1 user Likes Madge Bobbin's post:1 user Likes Madge Bobbin's post
   Noble Greengrass

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"Crushed unicorn horn?" Noble echoed. "What day's that coming in? I'd like to stock up." It was good to be friends with people who worked in the apothecary — it let him restore his supplies of potion ingredients before the need got desperate.

Madge Bobbin was much more chatty than Noble was, but she had a way of pulling it out of him. He took the basket back from her at the end of her bouncing step. "I remember her," Noble said, "I think she was the year below me. 1887?" He eyed the basket, trying to double check that she had gotten everything — she probably had, but he felt a need to check.

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Madge's smile widened. "The end of the week. Mama hasn't put the shipment ledgers out for customers to look at yet, so you're the first to know. I can put some on reserve for you, if you'd like." This was how she kept friends—promising favors in exchange for the promise that they'll return to talk to her again soon. Now that she thought about it, she didn't think she'd ever spent time with a customerfriend outside of the shop, but then again, there were more men who visited than women.

"I think so," she said with a nod, "I don't keep track of their years. Too many siblings for that." Three to be exact—or four if she counted The Pretender, but she usually chose not to.

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Noble grinned at her. "I'd like to reserve a fifth of a horn," he said, "Depending on the pricing." Unicorn horns were expensive, but if Miss Bobbin was telling the truth and stocks were low across Britain, a fifth would be worth it. Noble thought it likely that she was telling the truth, too — they were friendly, and she had an honest face.

"How are things around here, anyways?" Noble asked. Her father had recently died, he knew — and that was always difficult, in his rather extensive experience.

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"We'll get the pricing at the counter, don't worry," she explained, her eyes on the basket as he continued to sift through it. With all of that, plus a fifth of the unicorn horn... well, it would be a good day for her, to say the least.

A good enough day to keep the smile on her face for the rest of it, until the topic of him came up. It was no secret that the Bobbins had been passed over by their father in favor of a son that was conceived in a secretly-dissolved marriage, but people rarely asked how they were doing. It was always questions about The Pretender—was he running the shop now? Taking care of their family? Would he kick them to the curb and sell it to line his pockets with the profit? (Okay, nobody really asked about that, but she wished they would. Really. She'd like a good excuse to talk badly about him, even if just for a moment.)

Her smile remained on her face, but it was dimmer now, less genuine. "Oh, you know. We miss Papa." She missed Papa, at least—there was no telling how the rest of her siblings truly felt, though if they were angry with their father they didn't vocalize it to her.

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   Noble Greengrass

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It was going to be a bad day for Noble's wallet, especially with the wedding coming up, but maybe he could sell an extra potion or two to one of his regulars to make up for it. And maybe he was just being practical? All of these purchases were justifiable.

Noble frowned at her mention of her father. "Yeah," he said. Was it worse to have a father who spent all the money with no warning, or a father who left your store to a bastard half-brother? Noble wasn't sure. "I still miss my father, too." Despite everything, including his anger. And he would never admit as much to Ford, but Noble missed their father.

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Madge didn't make eye contact with Mr. Greengrass. The Greengrass' had lost their father two years before she had—she remembered Clementine coming back after the holidays with her mourning garb, and everyone was sat for her—and it it was recent enough to where they just understood. Madge didn't know if she liked feeling understood. It was easier to pretend she was okay, because then just maybe she could go to sleep at night having convinced herself she was.

"Does it ever get better?" she asked quietly, her gaze on his feet.

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Had things gotten better, for Noble, in the two years since his father had died? He'd gotten more angry, and then less angry, and then he was angry for different reasons. Verity was kidnapped. Ford was crumbling. Grace was as awkward as ever. Clem was probably going to uncover things, someday. Their mother might ruin them.

Did it feel better than the way the earth dropped out from under him, the months after his father's death?

"You get used to it," Noble said, "And then it gets easier."

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Madge nodded, the first time she'd been silent in... well, let's just say she wasn't usually this quiet when Mr. Greengrass came into the shop. She knew better than to thrust her emotional problems on the customers, knowing that logically they'd be less likely to return if they expected their visit to take an emotional toll, but she didn't have anyone to talk to about Papa. She'd left Hogwarts early, and most of her friends were still there.

She finally met his eyes again and managed a smile. It was pained but genuine; she appreciated him, but she wouldn't burden him anymore. She tilted her head in the direction of the counter, motioning for him to follow her there.

"Let me find those crushed unicorn prices for you," she said, using the opportunity to redirect her mind.

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"Thank you, Miss Bobbin," Noble said; he hoped his warm tone made up for the emotional intimacy he had maybe-dragged her into. Either way, he'd be here in a few days for some portion of unicorn horn — hopefully she forgave him by then.

Maybe he should give her more opportunities to talk. They might have more in common than she realized; her scandal was just public.

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   Madge Bobbin

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