Early Summer, 1887 — Dempsey Estate, Ireland
His latest experiment was a coat that adapted to the weather: breathable fabric and light, summer colors in the sunshine, thick grey wool in the snow, and black leather in the rain. The first trial of it had not gone as planned, and he'd ended up in Hogsmeade Hospital (not for the first nor the last time) sitting on an uncomfortable gurney bed while Thomasina Pomfrey used a spell to slowly and laboriously separate the coat from his skin where it had become quite unfortunately attached. Her shift had ended after the coat was off, but he'd been required to stay at the hospital for another two hours while another healer visited periodically with a salve to help ensure his skin didn't scar. He missed her once she was gone.
His parents didn't often throw garden parties, or parties of any variety; they were mostly involved in their creative projects and their children and couldn't be bothered to entertain the whole of society on a whim. He'd encouraged them to throw this one, because it had recently struck him as what a shame it was that most people hadn't had a chance to see the Dempsey Estate. If he was being honest with himself (he wasn't) it was really just one person that he wanted to see it, but having his parents throw an extensive party seemed like the only way to lure her here. It wasn't as though he could just come out and invite her himself. Not yet, anyway — by tomorrow he'd be able to invite her where he liked. Oz hadn't told anyone except Dash what he was planning, but not because he had any illusions that he might not be successful. He'd simply imagined both scenarios in his mind, announcing the decision to his family and friends before or after asking, and had decided he preferred the dramatic reveal better in the second.
His parents might not have known what he was planning, but they couldn't have failed to notice how tense he was during the first half-hour of the party when she hadn't arrived yet. By the time she did show up he was ready to pounce, like a hungry tiger. He'd planned to wait until later in the day, when she'd had a chance to experience the party and take in the house and the grounds and everything, but now the idea of waiting any longer made him feel crazy. He forced himself to take a walk — he couldn't jump down her throat with the question in the first five minutes of her being here. While walking he was accosted by a rogue storm cloud about the size of a carriage — another side effect of the failed experiment with the weather-reactive coat. Oz scowled at it and shooed it away with a spell, but not before it had dampened his hair and coat. He slipped upstairs to try and dry himself off a bit, then returned to the party.
"Miss Pomfrey," he said as he approached, in a tone that would by now have been familiar to her: mild disdain. "How good of you to grace us with your presence."
His parents didn't often throw garden parties, or parties of any variety; they were mostly involved in their creative projects and their children and couldn't be bothered to entertain the whole of society on a whim. He'd encouraged them to throw this one, because it had recently struck him as what a shame it was that most people hadn't had a chance to see the Dempsey Estate. If he was being honest with himself (he wasn't) it was really just one person that he wanted to see it, but having his parents throw an extensive party seemed like the only way to lure her here. It wasn't as though he could just come out and invite her himself. Not yet, anyway — by tomorrow he'd be able to invite her where he liked. Oz hadn't told anyone except Dash what he was planning, but not because he had any illusions that he might not be successful. He'd simply imagined both scenarios in his mind, announcing the decision to his family and friends before or after asking, and had decided he preferred the dramatic reveal better in the second.
His parents might not have known what he was planning, but they couldn't have failed to notice how tense he was during the first half-hour of the party when she hadn't arrived yet. By the time she did show up he was ready to pounce, like a hungry tiger. He'd planned to wait until later in the day, when she'd had a chance to experience the party and take in the house and the grounds and everything, but now the idea of waiting any longer made him feel crazy. He forced himself to take a walk — he couldn't jump down her throat with the question in the first five minutes of her being here. While walking he was accosted by a rogue storm cloud about the size of a carriage — another side effect of the failed experiment with the weather-reactive coat. Oz scowled at it and shooed it away with a spell, but not before it had dampened his hair and coat. He slipped upstairs to try and dry himself off a bit, then returned to the party.
"Miss Pomfrey," he said as he approached, in a tone that would by now have been familiar to her: mild disdain. "How good of you to grace us with your presence."
MJ is the light of my life <3