26 December 1891 — The Bagshots' Home in Wellingtonshire, Hogsmeade
@"Marie-Louise Skovgaard"

There must have been something wrong with him. He had always felt that he was far from feeling the very same love that he'd felt for Jane all those years ago, and yet here he was, heart in his throat as he stood on the doorstep of the Bagshot's residence. In Faustus' mind there was little time to waste. Despite how successful they had been at remaining undetected at Hermione Longbottom's party, he knew it was only a matter of time. It was as if realizing his feelings for Marie Skovgaard had opened flood gates, and behind them the deepest desire to be nearer her, to hold her, and to spend time with her. What's more was that he knew this wasn't normal — it was so like Faustus to be cautious, level-headed, and reserved; his defining traits growing up. And with Miss Skovgaard it not only felt right, but it felt as if a puzzle piece was clicking into place; sweet, simple, and ever so lovely.

Even as he was announced into the parlor room, Faustus' eyes landed only on her sitting on the lounge. As he walked in he could immediately see a blush wash over her features, her eyes meeting his. He smiled at her, and — feeling rather daring — turned so he was facing away from greeting her guardians to throw a wink at her over his shoulder.

As he was bade to sit down, Faustus took the seat opposite Miss Skovgaard. "Good afternoon, I hope I haven't intruded on your holiday festivities today." he began.

---

  

Malou had offered to work the evening shift yesterday, not having wanted to intrude on the Bagshots' festivities, but the hospital had turned her down. Apparently when one worked the Christmas Eve shift voluntarily it was deemed unconciousable to bring them back in Christmas day. Indeed, she'd even been given the following day off. To distract herself from her thoughts, Malou had intended to go shopping today after Mr. Prewett's surprising arrival of Christmas gifts but when she had woken up that morning her maid had said that Mrs. Bagshot had requested Malou keep her company. The maid had proceeded to dress her in a new gown of soft green that Mrs. Bagshot had given her for Christmas but when she tried to style Malou's hair eleaboretly, Malou had objected and insisted on a simple chignon instead. She was entirely unsure what all the fuss was about and had simply wanted to ensure that her maid could actually enjoy her day off.

So here she sat with Mr. and Mrs. Bagshot in the parlor, reading a book as the two talked and the serving staff enjoyed their day off. There was a side table of sandwhiches and things to eat and all in all it was a quiet day. The only member of the staff who had adamently refused the traditional day off was the butler, who was currently entering the room with a bow towards the Bagshots.

"Mr. Prewett, my lord." The man said, and Malou's heart leaped in her chest.

And then there he was, as handsome as he had been just the other night, merriment in his eyes, and Malou wanted to get up and walk right into his arms. But there were a million reasons not to. A million reasons that had her cheeks warming. One of which was the fact that she was quite sure he regretted kissing her at all. And if that weren't the case there was the fact that she was sure she shouldn't expect anything from Mr. Prewett beyond kissing. They were being selfish after all, and didn't that mean not telling anyone? Which in turn reminded her that she really did not know what he actually wanted. Add to that the surprsing number of generous Christmas gifts when she hadn't even gotten him anything and had only sent a kind thank you in return.....

But Mrs. Bagshot was beaming and asking Mr. Prewett to sit down and Mr. Prewett was winking at her (something that caused the back of her neck to grow warm as well as her cheeks). Malou truly didn't know what to make of it. But the one thing she did know was that she was happy to see him. Her entire body yearned toward him, enough that as he sat, she seemed to sway ever so slightly forward as she marked her book and placed it aside.

"Not at all." Malou's voice softly assured him. Did she thank him for the presents next or did she ask him how he was? For once she was entirely unsure of the order of politeness to be followed. "Did you enjoy your holidays, Mr. Prewett?" She asked, trying to keep her nerves from her tone. Her eyes, at least, didn't seem to understand her nerves as they seemed unwilling to stop looking at Mr. Prewett's face.

  

---

Faustus' eyes flickered ever so briefly down to her hands holding the book, making note of the title before refocusing his attention wholly to her. There was no denying the fondness that had risen in him as he took in the warm flush of her cheeks as she sat there and he found himself wondering what was going through her mind. Was she thinking about him as much as his thoughts drifted to her throughout the day?

The corners of his mouth ticked up in a knowing grin as she inquired after his holidays; despite the fact that they were in the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Bagshot, they might have been the only two people in the room. Though, Faustus chastened himself, it was likely better that they weren't alone in the room. Faustus was a gentleman, but there was no denying how much he'd have liked to envelop Miss Skovgaard in his arms in an embrace that was entirely inappropriate for two unmarried people.

"Quite a bit," He responded easily. "We spent the day at my mother's — which as you know, Mrs. Bagshot — she quite enjoyed hosting such a large gathering of people." He laughed. "And the children were quite taken with their gifts. I hope you had an enjoyable and peaceful shift at the hospital?"

---

  

"Indeed." Mrs. Bagshot replied, but Malou almost missed her, her attention was so firmly on Mr. Prewett.

"I am glad." She found herself murmuring with a genuine smile. She had never had a large family gathering to attend, her family always erring on the side of small, but she knew Mr. Prewett loved his family and it was clear on his face, that she did try to envision it. "It was surprisingly busy." She answered truthfully.

"Thank you for your gifts. They were most lovely. I was very surprised when they arrived at the Hospital." Malou had thought to turn them down but Mrs. Bagshot had said that in this instance she thought it quite appropriate to accept them. Entirely unsure of this Malou now found herself trying to thank him with her gaze while she proceeded to grow warmer and warmer.

  

---

Try as he might, he couldn't keep the grin off his face as she smiled, and almost missed her answer about the hospital, though hearing that the hospital was busy sobered his expression. Suffering rarely took a day off, but he was hoping perhaps she and her co-workers might be spared in order to enjoy the eve of Christmas, but clearly that had not been the case. "I apologize if the present showed up at an inopportune time—" He said, feeling a prickling of guilt if it turned out that the owl had interrupted her in the middle of a case. In truth, under normal circumstances he would have had the foresight to know this, but since The Longbottom Christmas party he had found himself and perhaps his judgement a bit impeded.

This realization slightly sobered him even more — it was such a new...no, not new... it was such an unfamiliar feeling as if something had been set aflame in his chest. He knew the source of it, of course, knew that it was her very presence that caused his guard to drop and any sort of straight thinking to be hindered. And yet he didn’t find himself bothered by this. Aware of it, yes, but if Faustus was honest with himself, it had been quite some time since someone had caused him to let his guard down and yet Miss Skovgaard seemed to be able to do it unconsciously, completely oblivious of the effect she had on him.

---

  

"Oh! No, not at all." Malou shook her head with a reassuring smile, "I was just sharing a break with a friend when your owl came in." Much to Mable's surprise and Malou's. It had given them something other than work to discuss on their break though.

"I-" Malou was rather unsure where to go from here, but trying to ignore Mrs. Bagshot, she found herself adding. "I had not expected anything at all. And in truth, I feel awfully horrid I have nothing for you." Her pale hands gestured in a small movement as she found herself staring down at her lap. She had felt much more comfortable behind a Christmas tree with Mr. Prewett than in a drawing room, but perhaps that was more so that she was rather nervous about what to say to Mr. Prewett with Mrs. Bagshot right there.

Thankfully Mrs. Bagshot took that moment to excuse herself from the conversation and drew her husband into a conversation on the other side of the room. A tactic that Malou had seen her employ before but well now... perhaps Mrs. Bagshot's trust in her was rather more misplaced than either of them had expected.

  

---

It was a relief to know she hadn't been interrupted. Merlin help him if that had been the case and the owl had persisted to pluck at her sleeve whilst she'd been in the middle of saving someone's life. Faustus sent his thinks to whomever he owed that it hadn't been the case. While he had been eager to send her the gifts, they had never been something that he had expected in return: "Oh please don't feel too awful," He beseeched, raising his hand slightly. "They were never meant to be conditional."

He would have continued in his hasty correction but his attention was diverted by Mrs. Bagshot who had suddenly pulled her husband into conversation on the very opposite end of the room.

It was at this moment that his heart skipped a beat as he realized this was likely his cue, and he found his mouth suddenly dry. "Miss Skovgaard, there was a matter that I wished to discuss with you. In fact I should have done it during the Christmas party —" He paused here, his cheeks slightly pink as he trailed off, only able to let the context of what he was saying hang between them. "But I'm afraid there was...rather a lot going on...that is —" Merlin's beard how in the world had he ever done this in the first place? For someone who was so used to giving public speeches on the fly, Faustus found himself having some difficulty finding his words. He cleared his throat. "That is, it didn't seem the right setting."

---

  

A matter to discuss with her? Malou's heart seemed to stop for a moment, then started forward. Part of her hoped, wished really, that it might be something good. But another part of her found herself clinging to each word wondering if this was when he told her it had to stop. The thing between them that had seemed to go so well, this was when he disregarded her own arguments from that night and told her they simply couldn't be together. "Oh?" Malou tried to keep her tone mild, barely able to look at him with the nerves mounting. She held herself as still as possible, as if that would somehow make this easier. Just what this was though, she was entirely unsure, but surely with the way he looked at the moment, his own cheeks reddening, it couldn't be good. She didn't want to think it, but there it was lingering on the edges of her mind: he was here to say goodbye.

  

---

As soon as she'd responded, Faustus faltered — she had gone unbelievably still. As sure as he was of his affections for her, he wasn't entirely sure this was a good sign. Perhaps this had been a horrible misunderstanding. Had he truly overstepped at his aunt's Christmas party and caused her such great offense that she felt she had to profess her feelings for him? His eyes flickered briefly to her guardians at the other end of the room. His visit with them the other day had been successful; they had been overly elated with the news he'd brought, so much so that Faustus had genuinely wondered if when all was said and done, it would be Miss Skovgaard's guardians who would be more excited about his proposition to the healer.

Just as the seed of doubt had planted itself in his chest, he looked back to Miss Skovgaard again. It was only one look, yet her words from that night in the parlor came flooding back to him — I think you've held my heart for some time now, Mr. Prewett.

No, she certainly hadn't been coerced into saying such things. It had been why Faustus stood back from her for so long - or what had seemed like forever - he hadn't wanted to crowd her or overwhelm after they'd been so close. And despite how soft spoken Miss Skovgaard could be, he was certain she did not trifle with her words like some silly schoolgirl. No, this was right.

"Miss Skovgaard, I wanted to ask you if you would do me the honor of allowing me to pay court to you." He said, his voice mercifully steady, feeling his heart skip yet again in his chest.

---

  

Her eyes widened and her gloved hand flew to cover the oh of her mouth. And yet that dreamlike happiness from the Longbottom ball was back, making Malou feel light at his words. Without realizing it a smile slid over her features, a large grin, brimming with happiness. "Yes!" Though her words were almost whispered there was no doubting the enthusiasm. It was as if the weight of her worries had been lifted and all she could think was that for some reason that she would never be able to fathom he wanted her, he was honored - again.

"Oh. I should very much like that." It was selfish of her in a million ways and there were things he should know, but at the moment she was too happy, too shocked, to even consider any of that. They had said they would be selfish and now here he was, sitting before her, asking her the one thing she had never expected to hear, nor to want. And yet, here she was, wanting it, wishing for it with all her being and the other matters seemed to pale in comparison. Her hands fluttered back down to her lap as she looked on Mr. Prewett's own face.

  

---

It was as if someone had cast a Lumos spell and her entire expression lit up, her hand flying to her mouth. Faustus felt his stomach somersault; this was surely the happiest and most animated he'd ever seen her, and he beamed back at her, feeling a laugh bubble up in his chest. "Would you?" He asked, scarcely allowing himself to believe such a request could make her this happy; or indeed that her response could have been better than he had ever imagined. "I don't want to strong arm you, or think you must say yes..." He trailed off, unable to keep the flickering smile off his face.

---

  

"I would." She whispered, her eyes widening in surprise at his explanation. Without thinking about anything other than comforting she leaned forward and placed a hand on his own. Surely Mrs. Bagshot would give her some leniancy in a moment like this. "Truly." She met his gaze, trying to impart the very truth of her sentiments through her gaze alone.

  

---

As her hand reached out to touch his, he turned his palm up, catching her fingers between his. Truly. Faustus looked up to see her, looking at him, and he smiled. His eyes flickered up to rest on her guardians, only to see Mrs. Bagshot glance over at them in a pause in her conversation with her husband. His grin grew even wider and he stood up to step around the table and take a seat beside Miss Skovgaard.

"I can't begin to tell you how happy you've made me." He murmured softly, as his thumb caressed the soft silk of her gloved hand. He raised her hand and pressed a soft kiss onto it. "Truly happy."

---

  

His fingers caught her own and his grin grew wide on his face. It was such a handsome look, full of such happiness that Malou couldn't help but answer it with a broad smile of her own. Without letting go of her hand he moved around the table and was sitting next to her, his warmth reaching to embrace her and reminding her of the other night, of their stolen kisses and the dance that he had held her through.

His words tumbled toward her filling her with warmth and her attention tried to split between the gentle caress of his hand and what he was saying. She covered their hands with her other gloved hand, and met his gaze, "Truly happy." She echoed, knowing he would understand that she meant it for herself as well.

  

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