May 13th, 1893 - Annual Potts Flower Show
Endymion Dempsey

It has been quite a hike to get up here, the display of plants is even more extensive than it was last years and it must be admitted that the Potts family has really outdone itself. But that last hike really took it out of you. You lean on the trunk of a sturdy tree, if one is familiar with trees it may be mistaken for a rowan, but to the keen observer it has the distinctions of a wiggentree. Something drops on your shoulder and you find yourself face to face with an angry bowtruckel, waving its arms a bit too close to your face for your liking.

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Endymion leant his head back against the tree, gazing out at the criss-crossing paths between the habitats. It was an excellent view from here – at least until something dropped from the tree onto his shoulder. He’d supposed it might be a spider, but the knobbly stick-looking thing before him – a Bowtruckle, he realised – was a surprise.

“AH!” he exclaimed aloud in shock, jumping a foot back before he could help himself. The bowtruckle, however, must have mistaken that yell for a war cry, because Endymion heard rustling from the canopy above, like there were more creatures to come. Only heard, though, because this aggravated little fellow had leapt up onto his face. Vision obscured, and busy trying to pry the determined bowtruckle off him, Endymion stumbled backwards into – something or someone.

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Having memorized and walked (sometimes ran, if Tchai had anything to do with the matter) through Evergardens more times than she could count, Phie was rather enjoying the long walk up to this point. She’d begun to feel a slight burn somewhere under her ribs about three fourths of the way through, but there was no such break for her in sight; her color-changing fox had taken it upon himself to take the lead and seemed to have very little pity for Philomena and her chaperone (who at this point was as far back as she could get without being out of sight).

Phie had thought to merely sidle past the poor fellow at the Wiggentree - Merlin he looked as if he were about to pass out! - when it was decided instead that she would become part of the spectacle. The man's shout of surprise made her jump. Before she could register what had happened — “Oof!” She yelped as the man’s full weight sent her flying into the tree trunk across the path. “Beg pardon — ouch!” Her hand caught her weight on the most flimsy branch, which wavered under her weight. It was enough to rattle the entire tree. To her luck, it was another Wiggentree and soon she heard the tiny, threatening chirrupings of what was to come.

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❧ Welcome to Evergardens ❧

Where had Herb gotten to? Laurel wondered. She didn't really have time to hike all the way but here, but the girls had promised her they had things well underhand so Laurel had set off to find her husband. He'd said something about the tree display so that was her best bet. She hadn't been up to see it this morning so it was like killing two birds with one stone.

A good thing she had started this way on the path for she heard yelling. Oh goodness. Did no one recognize a wiggentree? The bowtruckles were angrily leaping on a man on one side of the path. On the other side of the path Laurel winced as a lady tugged on the delicate branch of a wiggensapling.

Taking out her wand Laurel suspended the bowtruckles in the air around the man and turned to find the girl in a similar state. These were young bowtruckles however and much trickier for she didn't want to risk hurting them. With a flick of her wrist she cast a protego spell on the girl and then turned to allow the pair to talk on the path (who was she to mess with a meet cue, after all?). She did not notice that the bowtruckles has begun to sneak away from the young wiggentree and head for the girl's gown.

-Laurel exits scene-

  

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Mama Potts' is a joy thanks to Bee <3

The woman he’d bumped into had gotten off worse than him, he thought, hearing her thrown back against another tree. “Sorry, sorry!” Endymion cried, still trying to pry the bowtruckle off his face. Until – he was abruptly free, the bowtruckles suspended away from him as if someone had cast a freezing charm or a shield around him. Them. Vision no longer so obscured, Endymion caught better sight of the woman, who also seemed free of the bowtruckle fall for the moment again. (Endymion was looking at her face, rather than her feet.)

“That was clever,” he said gratefully, presuming the quick-thinking and whichever spell casting had been her doing, for both their sakes. “Thank you.”

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Before she knew it, the chatter stopped, and the witch looked up to see that the little creatures were all floating around them like bubbles, their tiny beedy eyes blinking at the two of them in confusion. The man recovered quickly, though he looked rather disheveled as he turned to thank her for dispatching the bow truckles. Phie stared back at him in confusion, looking right and left to see what in the world had made the bow truckles’ assault come to an end. She thought she saw a woman walking away, but it might have been a figment of her imagination after having hit her head.

Reaching up to press her palm to her temple, Philomena tried to stand upright. Her hand found something furry and she realized that her fox had come to an abrupt halt, sitting at her knees and staring up at her with an innocent look on his face. “That….er —” She stammered as she reached out with her other hand to steady herself. “That wasn’t me.”

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❧ Welcome to Evergardens ❧

He reached out a hand part of the way to her in case the young woman wanted something else – that was not a Bowtruckle-filled tree – to steady herself on, but before he could ask if she was unscathed, she had brought him right back to bafflement.

It hadn’t been her. And it certainly hadn’t been him. So...

Endymion glanced around, and then up and down, and saw no one save a fox at her knees. His brow furrowed, perplexed. “What’s –” he said, breaking off momentarily to laugh at how stupid this was going to sound, but saying it anyway because he had no other theories and it was a funny thought even if it wasn’t true, “– the possibility it was him?” He peered down at the fox in half amusement, half admiration. (Just in case.)

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   Philomena Sprout

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Grateful for something other than a creature with its own mind to steady herself, Phie placed her hand in the man’s outstretched one. She took care to press down only as much as she needed to get herself back on her feet before letting go and casting him a grateful smile. And she didn’t know what sort of response she expected from him as he laughed incredulously, but it wasn’t that.

“Tchai?” She offered, following his gaze down at her fox before she felt a laugh bubble in her chest. Tchai, for his part, alternated between looking at the both of them as his tail wagged behind him. It kicked up a small cloud of dust that Phie tried to bat away with a hand; they were already thoroughly covered in dirt and — Phie noted, as she took in the disheveled appearance of the man in front of her — quite a few leaves. “Not too possible, though stranger things have occurred with him, I assure you.” She replied, still giggling. “But…” She hesitated now, doubting her knowledge of her pet, and looked down at Tchai who gave a short bark as if he was expecting a treat. “Erm…I don’t see any other — hey!” She broke off in a yelp as the fox suddenly leapt into action and darted under her skirts.

Tchai barked again, only focusing on something that had made its way under her gown. Philomena skittered to the side, trying to avoid stepping on his tail. Except the man who had just helped her up was in that very same direction and, with her legs thoroughly tangled in her skirts now, she had no choice but to accept her fate as gravity brought her crashing into him.

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❧ Welcome to Evergardens ❧

Well, she knew the fox – Tchai, apparently – so that was something. One less mystery to muster an explanation for. Her fox wasn’t that talented, she seemed to think, though it seemed a smart enough creature: all of a sudden, Tchai lurched for her skirts. Endymion had noticed this, and had been watching it happen, ready to help... only he hadn’t been expecting the woman to walk into him.

So all he could do, as they both tumbled to the ground, was let himself (intentionally or inadvertently, what did it matter) cushion her fall. She was – very much on top of him now. And that had been the fox’s fault.

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With the physical blow that her visions usually dealt her, Philomena was quite used to being at the mercy of gravity. She might have been thankful that she wasn’t on the top of a staircase this time, but when she opened her eyes and realized the soft landing she’d thought was a flower bed was in actuality the man…well, she much preferred the blooming flower bed than him. “I’m…I’m so…I’m so sorry!” She squeaked, palm on his jacket’s lapel as she tried to scramble off of him. “Truly, I didn’t mean to - ” She was going to absolutely murder that stupid fox. Before she could though, she had to find a way to notify the man that he had somehow landed on the folds of her skirt.

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❧ Welcome to Evergardens ❧

“Now that was definitely the fox’s fault,” Endymion said weakly, with a smile to brush away her apology, mostly because he was still trying to see the bright side of this predicament. They seemed to be stumbling rather inexpertly into one situation after another, and the more they struggled to escape the more – well, this happened. Bowtruckles and blunders indeed. He was almost close to laughter, now, at the haplessness of it all; his chest was threatening it, with a faint rise and fall, and the pulling corner of his mouth too.

She was trying to push up off him, he was certain, but for some reason she wasn’t getting very far. Endymion hadn’t noticed the cause of this; and, trying for grace and patience and politeness, all he did was clear his throat lightly to perhaps subtly recommend that she prised herself off him before the bowtruckles swarmed back to get them both.

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“Yes, yes it was and I am going to throttle him when I catch him!” Phie exclaimed through gritted teeth. Currently she was trying to completely sit up, but it was hard given that she could only move a few centimeters before being tugged back down by her skirts. She hadn’t completely removed her hand from his chest and she could feel a faint stutter underneath her palm. Blinking in alarm (was he having some sort of fit?), she looked down at her hand then back at him. When her gaze caught the slight tug at the corner of his mouth, she realized with extreme mortification that he was trying not to laugh.

Oh, oh this was not good at all.

And now he was clearing his throat. Oh dear. Philomena could feel the panic rising as she froze. And then she opened her mouth. “I’m so sorry, I would remove myself but it appears that you’ve landed on my skirts; I know you didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m not able to get up unless you move and I’m not entirely sure I know how to tell you how to do such a thing without implying that you did so by design. Not that I think you’re the type of man to do that! I - I don’t think I know you, although now that I think about it, I recognize you from something or other, but it could have been in passing. Have you been to Evergardens in London? That’s where I might recognize you from if you’ve visited there. It’s a large greenhouse, and if you haven’t been there you simply must, we have a divine assortment of teas in our adjoining tea room…”

It was only when she paused to think of how many varieties of teas they had that Philomena's brain caught up with her when she realized how much she had rambled and she pressed her lips together. This hadn't happened in quite some time; the last person to be victim to one of her panic-tangents was Ludwig. At least her brother was used to them, whereas she'd just verbally accosted this stranger.

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❧ Welcome to Evergardens ❧

Her little burst of anger at the fox had entertained him entirely, but the amusement faded as she started – talking. Monologuing, perhaps, was the better word; and Endymion had a great deal of patience as a listener, generally, but as she danced frenetically about the issue his bewilderment only grew. What exactly was she trying to say... oh.

The moment he managed to put the string of sentences together, he blushed furiously. She didn’t want to accuse him of being that type of man, and Endymion would profess sincerely that he wasn’t, he never had been. Not that it wasn’t an almost pleasant sensation, to have an objectively pretty young woman filling his vision, near enough to see the brown of her eyes melting to gold near the edges, or to see the sun reflecting on her glossy dark curls; not that it wasn’t nice to feel that feather-light touch of her hand on his chest, and the combined weight of her skirts and her body as good as straddling him where she was caught; and it would be altogether easy, natural even, to wind his arms around her waist if he wanted to keep her there, to pull her closer and –

Endymion didn’t know what on earth he was thinking, in fact. (Perhaps this had reminded him of that faraway summer’s day in the hammock, somehow; perhaps it was merely the fault of base human biology, in such a situation as this.) But he was mortified and chagrined by it, and, now understanding that he had been to blame for her inability to get up, he ended up having to roll them both more onto their side, so that he could disentangle his legs from her dress and scramble up to his feet, unnaturally hot and bothered. He extended a hand to help her up anyway, almost too embarrassed to do so but hardly about to leave her sprawled on the ground, either. “I’m terribly sorry – I hadn’t realised –” he began breathlessly, eyebrows quirking as he recalled that somehow she had made it onto the topic of tea.

“I do know it,” he added, a beat too late to be smooth, but at least entirely sincere – “I’m very fond of Evergardens.”

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She saw the moment confusion turned to realization for him and was treated to a spectacular display of pink that bloomed across his cheeks like her brightest peonies. “Ah - yes - yes, I think we’ve got there,” She uttered encouragingly and immediately directed her gaze elsewhere, though it wasn’t easy given he was so close she could count the number of eyelashes, or see exactly how many different shades of gold flecked his eyes. His hand found her waist and she froze, sucking in an audible breath as he turned them both onto their sides so she was able to touch the ground without having to reach over him. Heat had flooded her own cheeks and she fumbled as she felt him let go of her.

Temporarily frozen on the ground, she tried to open her mouth to thank him, but found her mind had gone completely blank after it had completely unraveled on her only seconds before. She watched as he reached out a hand to help her up. After a moment’s hesitation (purely because frankly, her mind was still playing catch up to what had just happened) she reached out and grasped it to let him haul her up. “Oh, no no!” She quickly countered, her hands fluttering in front of her to quickly assure him the fault was entirely on her. “I would never think - oh you do know it!” Oh thank Merlin, they were back on the subject of their adjoining tearoom. What else would they talk about? How she’d physically accosted him? How she’d practically thrown herself at him, pressing against him like a wanton creature in need of — oh, Merlin help her.

Philomena latched onto the topic like a sailor drowning at sea. “Yes, we have many herbal blends, and ceylon and assam leaf blends, as well as slices of lemon and sugar and milk, and many of the herbs we grow in our own gardens and should you ever stop by, our tearoom staff would be most elated to let you know more about our process.” She found herself breathless by the end as she realized she was about to verbally drown him again, so she immediately stopped talking. “That is...I'm glad you're fond of it, I - we that is; my family, I'm Philomena Sprout, my family owns the greenhouse - are glad that you enjoy your time there Mr...uh...” She broke off again, eyes wide as she realized she didn't know his name.

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❧ Welcome to Evergardens ❧

Endymion could scarcely say what had caused her to imagine he had a devoted and deep, yearning interest in tea, but he listened along to the stream of description anyway, too relieved at having a subject at all to be truly puzzled about it. His mother might be interested to know; he may as well file away the information to tell her about one day, if she had not visited the teahouse in London.

That made sense, though, that she was a Miss Sprout of said Evergardens, and not just an unrelated obsessee. His mouth pulled up at one side, finally managing to shake his own chagrin, and return to proper civility – he was sure they both looked unfortunately rumpled now, and flustered to boot – but he ran a hand through his hair to tidy the curls and pulled at his collar to straighten it too, and smiled at her. “Dempsey,” he supplied. “Endymion Dempsey. I’m sure I’ve seen you at the greenhouse before,” from a distance, at least; or maybe she was only vaguely familiar from society, but he had visited Evergardens before, “so it’s nice to put a name to the face, and meet you. Ah, in spite of the – unusual circumstances.”

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As she trailed off and looked to him, she couldn’t help but laugh sheepishly at his appearance. His hair looked as if a bird had nested in it - leaves and twigs adorned it like he was a wood nymph just stepping out of the forest. Even as he ran a hand through his hair, the twigs and leaves sprung off, pinging onto the ground. Philomena gave herself a little shake; sure enough, a rustling told her that she too was covered in the same foliage. “Dempsey?” She exclaimed, her expression brightening. “Of course, you’re Lycoris’ brother, aren’t you?” At first it was quite a relief that this man wasn’t a total stranger; and then she envisioned telling Lycoris that she’d just been quite literally on top of her brother, and she could feel her cheeks flushing. “You look a lot like her now that I think about it, I’ve always loved her hair, it’s quite lovely!” Then she shut her mouth, eyes widening. The implications of the compliment she’d inadvertently bestowed on him only served to increase the heat burning in her cheeks. Phie cleared her throat.

“That is uh… yes, Mr. Dempsey I believe we have a mutual acquaintance, Lycoris and I were in the same year and house at Hogwarts.” She amended quickly, sidling backwards ever so slightly as if that would help the situation. “The feeling is mutual, yes, despite the circumstances.” She laughed nervously again, her hand fluttering about as she gestured vaguely to indicate that perhaps the circumstances were not done being unusual.

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   Endymion Dempsey

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❧ Welcome to Evergardens ❧