May 8th, 1891 — Greengrass Parlor, N. Bartonburg

There were a number of reasons that Ford did not typically drink as much as he had last night (not that he had at any point intended to drink so much last night), and the way that he felt the next morning was certainly among their number. His head hurt, his stomach hurt, he was tired enough that he felt as though his whole body hurt from the effort of having to do as much as prop himself up in a chair in the parlor. He'd fought to eat as much breakfast as he could manage, which was just a piece of toast and an apple. The smell of coffee was turning his stomach, so he'd settled in with tea instead, hoping that he'd be able to manage the milder drink and that it might make him feel better. He really had to feel better, because they had a whole thing they were supposed to go to, with garden displays and underwater tunnels and a dance later that night, and there was absolutely no way he could manage it with the way he was feeling right now.

He'd put that day's copy of the Prophet in his lap less because he had any intention to read it and more because it might serve as a shield to fend off conversation from his siblings. He was curled up in one of the armchairs with his body angled away from the nearest window (was the sun always this bright in the morning? it was a cruel trick of fate that after how dismal Scotland was for most of the year the clouds had decided to part today of all days). Ford opened the newspaper — again with no intention of reading it, but more of looking as though he was reading it — only there was a familiar face staring back at him from the inside page. Society News. The Macnair family is pleased to announce the engagement of Mr. Valerian Macnair to Miss Tatiana Lestrange. A wedding date has yet to be announced.

For a moment Ford just stared at it, not sure what to think. Maybe it was a misprint and they meant one of the other Mr. Macnairs, and they'd gotten the photograph mistaken, too. Maybe it was some sort of joke that Ford didn't understand. Maybe it wasn't real at all, and this was some sort of weird drunken dream and he hadn't even woken up yet. Any of those scenarios seemed more plausible than the idea that the man he'd had in his mouth a mere three days ago was now engaged.

Someone was saying something, and Ford guessed from the tone that she had already repeated herself at least once, though he hadn't heard the first (second? third? how long had he been staring at this newspaper without even a passing awareness of what was happening around him in the parlor?) time. He blinked, looked over at her, and then winced slightly at the light coming in from the windows behind her. "Sorry — what?"

---

Clementine Greengrass Aldous Crouch
[Open to cameos from other Greengrasses if desired! ^^]

The following 2 users Like Fortitude Greengrass's post:2 users Like Fortitude Greengrass's post
   Arthur Pettigrew, Valerian Macnair

---

Set by Lady!

Things between Clementine and her brother—not Noble, of course—remained tense even after the tentative reinstatement of her allowance over Easter. Still, summer was quickly approaching, and she had promised Hermia, and she knew that to ask for anything via letter was, at this point, rather ill-advised.

And so one of her sisters had fetched her from the village, affording her a convenient excuse to return to the house for the afternoon and conquer her personal mountain: Ford and his unwavering fortitude in the face of her requests.

"Hello, Ford," she greeted her brother as serenely as she was capable, moving to sit in the armchair opposite his. The copy of The Daily Prophet was, no doubt, meant to serve as an ersatz shield, and Clem briefly considered retreating until he was more open to conversation, a notion that repeated itself when he did not so much as acknowledge her presence.

"Ford?" she asked again, brows knitting together slightly. This time, her voice elicited an answer.

"I said 'hello'—has something happened?" she asked, her gaze gesturing to the paper he still held.

  

---

— set by mj —

Ford was a little annoyed to have been forced to deal with conversation for something so trivial as hello, but he knew he was being uncharitable. He was usually happy to have Clementine home for an afternoon, and if he hadn't been battling such a tremendous hangover (or perhaps if the news from the paper hadn't thrown him so immediately and intensely out of balance) he might still have been. As it was, he let his gaze fall to the floor and squeezed his eyes shut for just a second, trying to force them to refocus in a way that was more helpful given the state of his head.

"No, nothing's happened," he mumbled, folding the newspaper but leaving it on his lap. "Just society news. I'm — not feeling well this morning," he explained. He might not have said anything at all except that he was sure it was already obvious, and offering her some explanation might at least prevent her from asking about it directly, or trying to ferret out what was the matter later from one of their siblings (which wouldn't be difficult — he was sure everyone was very well aware that he'd been drunk last night, and that he'd left the party with Lestrange — which meant they had about as many details about the previous night as Ford did).

---

The following 1 user Likes Fortitude Greengrass's post:1 user Likes Fortitude Greengrass's post
   Noble Greengrass

---

Set by Lady!

Clementine Greengrass was not nearly as wise as to the ways of the world as she might have liked, but she did know a hangover when it was sat across from her. This could be to her benefit: perhaps Ford would give in just to be rid of her. Alternatively, he could be much surlier.

"Oh, I shan't trouble you long, then," Clem said kindly. "Only, I had rather a time-sensitive matter to discuss?"

The following 1 user Likes Clementine Greengrass's post:1 user Likes Clementine Greengrass's post
   Fortitude Greengrass

---

— set by mj —

Of course she had a time-sensitive matter to discuss. Everything was time-sensitive with Clementine. That was what had seen her sans allowance for half the semester, because she couldn't possibly have just waited a week for him to try and find a little money for that stupid unnecessary book for her class and she'd had to run off to Mama instead.

"Of course," he agreed without any real enthusiasm in his tone. He picked up his cup of tea gingerly, as though he expected it to bite him. "Go ahead."

---

  

---

Set by Lady!

"My friend—that is, Miss Bonaccord," Clementine clarified, uncharacteristically unsure of herself as she spoke, "has asked if I might spend part of the summer with her family." Practically begged, really, in that way that bosom friends were apt to do. The Hufflepuff did her best not to sound too eager.

  

---

— set by mj —

The name Bonaccord sounded vaguely familiar, and if it hadn't hurt to think he might have been able to figure out whether that was because he knew Bonaccords of his own approximate age or whether it was only that Clementine had talked about her friend before. As it was, he merely blinked and leaned back in his chair, wondering where the but was. Maybe it was just because he was too used to dealing with Verity and Grace and the demands of being a debutante, but he didn't often get to respond to his siblings' requests with an unconditional yes, so he was waiting to hear how this seemingly benign request would put him (and probably his pocketbook) out.

"Well, that sounds lovely," he said blandly when she didn't continue. "How much of the summer?"

---

The following 1 user Likes Fortitude Greengrass's post:1 user Likes Fortitude Greengrass's post
   Clementine Greengrass

---

Set by Lady!

No. Sudden. Movements. Ford was a baby unicorn alone in a field; she would not spook him now.

"Oh, just a fortnight or perhaps two," Clementine answered almost offhandedly before adding, a bit more tentatively, "She mentioned in particular Bastille Day—to celebrate in France would be so educational an experience."

The following 1 user Likes Clementine Greengrass's post:1 user Likes Clementine Greengrass's post
   Hermia Bonaccord

---

— set by mj —

She said it so casually that it took him a moment to process the words — which was, Ford thought, most likely her intention.

"In France?" he repeated, eyebrows raising. "Clem, you can't go to France." A fortnight would have been pressing her luck regardless — Ford knew her well enough to understand how much trouble she might potentially get herself into in two weeks' time — but a fortnight in another country was out of the question.

---

The following 1 user Likes Fortitude Greengrass's post:1 user Likes Fortitude Greengrass's post
   Aldous Crouch

---

Set by Lady!

Ah, there it was, the expected result. Still, Clementine was not quite ready to admit defeat—after all, the vein in her brother's neck that grew so prominent when he was truly angry was not even visible yet!

"Oh, her parents are quite happy to make the arrangements if that's the concern," the Hufflepuff countered brightly as if that was the only reason Ford would possible be opposed to the notion. "They go every summer and so it would hardly be a hardship to have an extra body about the house. Besides, I don't imagine I will ever have a better opportunity to practice my French!"

Her smile was, perhaps, just a bit too enthusiastic.

The following 1 user Likes Clementine Greengrass's post:1 user Likes Clementine Greengrass's post
   Fortitude Greengrass

---

— set by mj —

Ford was rather annoyed by the implication that he would be incapable of handling logistics to get her to and from France — how hard was it to buy a boat ticket or requisition a portkey, anyway? — and so his tone was a touch harsher than what he normally used with his siblings as he replied. "Vous pouvez pratiquer votre français chez soi," he pointed out — you can practice your French at home. All the Greengrasses spoke French, not that Ford had ever found it particularly useful. He seldom used more than a sentence or two at a time, and she might have gotten more sympathy from him if she'd said she wanted to holiday at the bottom of the Black Lake to practice her Mermish. But French was what was fashionable, so they all spoke French, and presumably she thought that was a good enough reason to allow her to run off to another country for two weeks.

And what was so great about Bastille Day, anyway?

"I'm sorry," he said, not sounding sorry in the least. "But you're not old enough to go cavorting around another country by yourself."

---

  

---

Set by Lady!

Her mouth dipped into a frown.

"It is hardly authentic to speak French with my brother," she pointed out, "and I should be much less by myself with Miss Bonaccord and her family than I should be at home. Mama will surely have her hands full with Verity and Grace—" and their prospects "—and you and Noble both, rightly, are quite dedicated to your respective works."

Really, given how she vexed him (only sometimes intentionally!), Clem would have thought Ford would at least give pause at the opportunity to have her out from underfoot, even if she had not thought her chances particularly good.

  

---

— set by mj —

There was something wrapped up in her response that made Ford frown — the suggestion of loneliness even in a house full of people — but he wasn't sure if it was a genuine sentiment or just something to say in order to have her way in the argument. Better to forge on, he decided, and revisit it later if the opportunity presented itself.

"You have plenty to learn here," he retorted. "And unless you plan to debut in Paris, what you learn from watching Verity and Grace will be far more useful than authentic French," he concluded with a roll of his eyes.

---

  

---

Set by Lady!

Her sigh was shallow, but audible: it was clear Ford would not budge on the matter, and any further argument was more likely to remind him how close she was to making her debut—a connection she would like him to avoid for as long as possible.

  

---

— set by mj —

He felt a little bad about the way the conversation had gone (though not bad enough that he was willing to relent and let her run off to France unsupervised for two weeks). He wished he could say something else that would soften things slightly, but everything that occurred to him would surely only make it worse. She didn't want to hear about what fun things they might do this summer, surely, and if he tried to promise she could go to France next year or the following it would probably have been a lie. Instead of speaking, he let out a weary breath and took another sip of his tea.

---

The following 1 user Likes Fortitude Greengrass's post:1 user Likes Fortitude Greengrass's post
   Clementine Greengrass

---

Set by Lady!

"You should go outside," Clementine suggested, rising to her feet at last. "Fresh air might help you to feel more yourself."

  

---

— set by mj —