28 September 1891 — Wellingtonshire

It hadn't taken Faustus very long to find out who the woman was who had descended upon him and Miss Skovgaard after they'd entered the ballroom at the Sanditon Resort. One question to someone had brought the answer to him immediately, and he'd held onto the name — Mrs. Bagshot — until he'd been able to find an owl the next day and send an inquiry. After a few cordial letters back and forth, Mrs. Bagshot wasted little time in inviting Faustus over for tea on Wednesday afternoon to call upon Miss Skovgaard.

Though he was confident she had been properly seen to, Faustus had inevitably been whisked away himself to be healed and had not been able to catch even so much as a glimpse of her before he left. He'd wanted to perhaps leave a message, but the chaos of the night had seen to it that he wouldn't find time to even breathe. That night, after he'd sent off the proper letters to relatives to let them know what had happened, he found he couldn't sleep. A hot bath had helped since, despite the significant healing that had been done to his side, his entire body felt as if he'd been hit with the force of one thousand stupefy spells.

Eventually, his mounting concern over the next few days had finally seen him reach out. And so, he found himself at the front door of the residence he was told she would be at, his hat tucked under his arms and gloves in his hand as he approached the front door.

---

  

Agatha Bagshot was a force to be reckoned with when she set her mind to it. It would be several weeks until Malou was once again in resisdence in her Wellingtonshire home, but Agatha hadn't let that stop her. She'd written to Malou's superior to find out her work schedule the moment Mr. Prewett's first letter arrived once she had assertained that Malou's next day off would be on Wednesday she had written Mr. Prewett to confirm the date then sent a letter to Malou informing her she was to be at tea that afternoon no matter what. Knowing her goddaughter Agatha had set the time earlier than the meeting with Mr. Prewett and a good thing she had. Malou had arrived in her preferred gray wizarding robes and a simple bun unaware of her godmother's mechanations. Agatha had tutted at the girl and sent her upstairs to her room (Agatha had put one aside for during her final year at Hogwarts and had never had the heart to convert it to anything else, until Malou had a home of her own Agatha considered her's Malou's actual home) and had a maid dress her hair and force her into an appropriately becoming afternoon gown.

----

Malou for her part knew nothing of her godmother's schemes. She had been too tired to fight with her godmother when her note clearly stated she had off Wednesday. How she knew that, well Malou was willing to guess she had let it slip at some point during the weekend. So she had arrived only to ushered upstairs, Mrs. Bagshot fretting about her apperance. After the incident at Sanditon Malou had no desire to ever wear anything other than wizarding rooms again. Her petticoats and gown had almost gotten her killed several times over that night, had Mr. Prewett not rescued her she likely wouldn't have survived the dress at all. Besides, if an emergency were to come up again robes were much easier to manage. But Mrs. Bagshot didn't seem to understand any of this (not that Malou particularly tried to explain, the slight weariness of gowns didn't seem a topic to bring up to anyone as it did seem rather irrational) and instead had pulled out a gown of soft blue, just a hint on the gray side. It was the perfect afternoon gown and how long or why Mrs. Bagshot had had it Malou couldn't say. But as it was Agatha Bagshot she rather suspected the woman had had it laying around to force Malou into one of these days. Mrs. Bagshot was not shy about the fact that she ordered gowns for Malou (against Malou's many objections over the years). It was pointless to fight.

Which was how Malou ended up sitting on the edge of a settee, hands folded in her lap, hair in a simple stylish updo in Mrs. Bagshot's formal parlor Wednesday afternoon. Her godmother had assured her it would be a quiet tea, none of her friends chittering about, so when the butler anncounced a guest Malou was surprised (although she really shouldn't have been, knowing Agatha's wide circle of friends). She swallowed and looked down at her hands, not wishing for the energy of one of Mrs. Bagshot's socialite friends. Instead she heard the rustle of Mrs. Bagshot's skirts as she stood up, "Oh, Mr. Prewett, how good of you to join us."

Malou looked up meeting Mr. Prewett's blue eyes. The eyes that she had seen every time she had closed her eyes since Sunday morning. Involuntarily Malou was scanning him for any sign of injury, any thing that might suggest how close he too came to perishing that fateful night. Suddenly her chest felt slightly tight as if she couldn't breathe and for a moment she forget to say anything at all, finally managing in her quiet tone, "Good day Mr. Prewett." She was much too surprised to say anything.

"Do take a seat." Agatha gestured in the direction of the cream settee Malou had settled herself on. "I just ordered tea to be served, I do hope you will join us." Malou hardly heard her, her eyes were still locked on Mr. Prewett's barely able to believe he was here.

  

---

As he was led to the sitting room, Faustus looked around, noting his surprise at the confirmation of Miss Skovgaard's residence. Though it wasn't uncommon to see Upper-Class women take on jobs such as healing, he supposed that he'd been more expecting her to have a more modest abode. That was neither here nor there, though, and he made his way through the hallway led by the butler. As soon as he was announced, he nodded his thanks and walked through.

"Mrs. Bagshot." He said, bowing formally. "Thank you for being so kind as to invite me today." While he spoke first to the woman who had so graciously decided to host, his gaze went to rest on Miss Skovgaard who looked rather stunned as she sat on the sofa. Immediately, Faustus felt rather guilty, feeling as if he'd pushed a meeting on her that she did not expect, for he'd assumed Mrs. Bagshot would have told her charge of his intending to call upon her.

"Good day, Miss Skovgaard," he replied, sending her a kind smile as Mrs. Bagshot stated tea would be ready soon. He broke Miss Skovgaard's gaze to nod thankfully at the hostess. "I think I should like that very much," He said, before pausing and addressing Miss Skovgaard. "That is, if you don't mind too much. I'm afraid my arrival seems rather a shock, do forgive me."

---

  

Her godmother had neglected to tell her of Mr. Prewett's coming Malou realized, she wouldn't have put it past the woman to have organized the whole thing. It explained the insistence, the gown, the hair, all of it. Typically Malou might have been annoyed, but this time...

"No, it is quite alright." Malou's quiet voice floated from her. Her fingers slid down her skirts smoothing them to give attention to something other than him. She met his eyes as she added, "I just didn't expect company." Had it been someone other than Mr. Prewett she might have cut her godmother a look at this, but she found she could hardly keep from looking at him, relieved that he seemed to be alright.

"Good," Mrs. Bagshot bustled back into the conversation, "Good." The door opened again and Mr. Bagshot strolled in nodding at the assembled party, Malou suspected that he had been told to come in at precisely that time. "If you'll excuse me, I must steal my wife away for a moment." Before Malou or Mr. Prewett could say a thing Mrs. Bagshot was cutting in, "If you'll excuse us a moment." Then as if a queen of her own kingdom the woman rose and bustled to see her husband by the piano that was nestled in the corner. Leaving Malou blinking slightly at the obvious plot afoot.

But how could Mrs. Bagshot think that Malou even had a chance with Mr. Prewett? She certainly had no fortune, nor the reputation that might be expected of his future bride. Come to think of it, why was he here at all? She had brought nothing to him except injuries and mishaps. It hardly mattered that the mere thought of him had distracted her for days, but she supposed that had more to do with suffering a traumatic event with him than any real (and probably misplaced feelings). Perhaps that was why he was here, to make it clear that they had simply saved each other and nothing more. Unsure of what to do with this particular realization Malou looked down at the soft satin lines of her gloves, trying to keep as still as possible.

  

---

His expression sobered slightly. So she hadn't been expecting any sort of company. There was a prick of disappointment that he felt, though still kept the smile on his face as he accepted the invitation to sit down. Sitting next to her seemed entirely too forward, so he settled for sitting across from her just as Mr. Bagshot entered the room. He shot a glance at both Mr. and Mrs. Bagshot as they made their excuses and confined themselves to the corner of the room next to a rather elegant-looking piano.

At this, Faustus couldn't help but hide a laugh. Were his mother there to plot with them, they'd make quite a trio. Though his mother and Hermione Longbottom certainly made up for most of the interfering and plotting that occurred throughout his life; he hardly needed more.

Setting down his hat and gloves beside him, Faustus turned to Miss Skovgaard once again with an expression of mingled apology and concern as he took her in for the first time since the Sanditon Resort disaster. She looked in good health, if not perhaps a bit tired, though they'd already established he was far from a proper healer to be assuming such things. "I apologize about my arrival," he began, his voice quiet, though Merlin only knew Mr. and Mrs. Bagshot were already chatting so animatedly amongst themselves that he would be surprised if they heard him speak. "Only I was hoping to make sure you were alright after our - after the Sanditon." He faltered slightly, before recovering and sitting forward, his fingers laced in front of him.

---

  

Malou glanced up at the sound of Mr. Prewett moving and watched as he settled himself in the chair across from her. She blushed slightly at his words, his attention, and the intent gaze he fixed her with. "There is no reason to apologize, truly." She assured him sincerity forcing her to meet his gaze. It was much too bold to admit, but she couldn't help the next words that slipped out, "I was worried about you as well." Her cheeks grew warmer and Malou found her gaze back on her gloves as she realized what she'd said. Perhaps he'd only think it because of her career.... Surely the only reason he was concerned for her was because he was enough of a gentleman to feel some responsibility toward her. That could be the only reason he was here. Because he truly was a gentleman.

Malou wished she had just remained quiet, but in an attempt to brush her comment under rug she added, "Is your family alright after Sanditon?" She remembered he had gone to find them when last she had seen him. Besides, Mrs. Bagshot had made sure she noted that most of the Prewett and Longbottom families had been there.

  

---

He smiled at her then, though he had no idea as to why she seemed flustered by her admission. Given the situation the universe seemed to throw them into, he'd be concerned for anyone if they had been trapped as they had been. Given that she was a healer, he supposed she also had a natural worry for those who had gotten injured in her presence, regardless if they were a patient or not. "I was alright." He reassured her. "A healer fixed me up properly once they'd gotten ahold of some dittany, though I'm sure the scar will still be at least somewhat visible." Yet another to add to the growing collection he had.

"My family are alright too. Shaken, somewhat, but we'll be alright." Faustus had paled when he'd heard what happened to his mother and sister-in-law, but in the end was glad he'd found out after the fact, when he knew they were already safe and sound. Other families, he knew, had not been left unscathed by the hurricane this time around. Edelweiss had written to him as soon as poor Miss Thompsett found out about her family. "We were lucky and that's all I can be thankful for."

His eyes moved over her shoulder to Mr. and Mrs. Bagshot - from what he remembered from that night, Mrs. Bagshot had looked quite frightened, but not injured. He still wasn't sure about Mr. Bagshot though, and Faustus focused back on Miss Skovgaard. "I certainly hope your famil — those you know weren't affected too much by it either." He had been about to ask after her family when he realized he knew very little about them; only that Mrs. Bagshot was of some relation to her that Miss Skovgaard stayed with her.

---

  

It was a relief to hear that Mr. Prewett was healed, but the thought of a scar - a scar that had been her fault - had her lips turning into a small frown. "I am sorry." For at least half a dozen things if not more. That he had gotten hurt, that she had drafted his help, that she hadn't been able to heal him, that there would be a scar.

Her voice was soft as usual as she added, "I am glad to hear they are alright." Even at work on Monday they had still been treating injuries.

"Yes, my godmother and her husband," Malou nodded slightly toward them, "Were luckily unscathed." Scared, definitely, but unharmed. It had been a huge relief. But she heard the stumble over family and the fade of color in her cheeks bloomed again. So he didn't know just how unsuitable she was. Not that it would matter, she hardly doubted he was here with any interest to court her. The only other person terribly close to her would never have been invited to such an event, Fallon was practically a sister, but she and Malou were not in the same social circles in the least despite living together.

  

---

Ah, so it was likely she wasn't related to the Bagshot's by blood. Faustus usually wasn't one to go poking around anyone's family history (though clearly their family had the resources for it) but he couldn't help the nagging pull that he felt to inquire about her family proper and what they did. Not wanting to seem too forward today though, he decided to leave that matter be. Especially given the fact that she had not been expecting him. No, he would ask that another time.

He startled himself by even thinking about 'another time', realizing that he had automatically thought of that possibility in the near future. That is - if Miss Skovgaard wanted to. It was also entirely possible she wanted very little to do with him given she'd almost drowned with him at the Sanditon Resort. He brought himself out of his thoughts and nodded, feeling truly grateful that no one she knew had been seriously injured. "I'm glad," He said, hoping he sounded so. But to get to the crux of the matter, Faustus nodded his head towards her. "Have you quite recovered from the ordeal at the Sanditon, Miss Skovgaard?" He'd realized she hadn't answered his question at first, though didn't blame her if it was as he suspected and he'd caught her unawares with his arrival this afternoon.

---

  

Her returning smile showed that she was glad as well. While Mrs. Bagshot was not the same blood as Malou she was the only thing she had left of her mother, and the closest thing to family she had after Fallon. She did not even want to dwell how much her world would have fallen down if one of them had been harmed. She remembered how horrible it was picking herself up after her parents had passed, but to not even have her godmother? It was almost unthinkable.

"I have," Malou's eyes fluttered back to his own, "Thank you." She dipped her head slightly in recognition of the concern in his voice. It was nowhere near the emotion she had felt from him that night, but she could see the geniune interest in his eyes. For the most part it was the truth. She still had the occasional dizzy spell and was more tired than normal, but that was to be expected as she had hardly paused. A few hours resting Sunday had been all she allowed herself. To set Mr. Prewett at ease, as this was likely the only reason he had come to call she added, "The healers at the hospital made sure to look over my injuries when I went in for my shift." She hadn't fought them, having hardly had the energy for her shift in the first place but having wanted to stay busy rather than dwell on all that had happened.

  

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She'd gone into the hospital before her shift? Faustus stared at her, surprise on his face before he remembered his place and attempted to rearrange his features into something a bit more polite. It was rather difficult though, more so than it should be given the fact that he'd had to have this talk with multiple of his own employees. While it only made him more grateful for their dedication to their work, it also seemed to be the cause of a great deal of stress when he knew his employees were perhaps only doing the bare minimum. Faustus himself was hardly one to judge, seeing as that had once been him at the height of his quest to clear his father's name.

While he didn't doubt the healers at the hospital - of course, he shouldn't be seeing as both he and his employees had gotten patched up there more than their fair share of times - he had the frightening urge to try and convince her to see someone again. But no, that would merely seem like he held little faith in the healers at the hospitals. So instead he nodded, wanting to ask her if she was sure and instead, saying, "I'm relieved you're alright, then."

And then, against his better judgment, "I hope you've managed to get a good day's rest from work since then?"

It really wasn't his place to ask her such things, he knew, but the concern Faustus felt mounting in his chest had completely erased all forms of propriety that he'd been drilled on since he was a child. Merlin, what was wrong with him?

---

  

Malou warmed again under his stare and for a moment she thought he'd say something. What she had said that surprised him she was entirely unsure of and some level of doubt began tugging at her again. But whatever it was he did not say as he commented he was glad she was arlight. Malou gave him a small reassuring smile at those words.

But then... this time she felt the pink turn deeper. She had.... and she had not. Malou had listened when her godmother insisted she stay and rest Sunday, but they had arrived in the morning from the diaster at Sanidton and then early the next morning Malou had gone to work. Something which Fallon had disapproved of. But there had been people in need and there was no way that Malou would not have gone to work if she were capable. "On Sunday." She murmured, with a nod trying to act as if this were a full day of rest and realizing that he like Mrs. Bagshot and Fallon would not think that a day of rest, given that her misadventure with Faustus had occured in the early hours of Sunday and the guests hadn't been able to leave Sanditon until well in the morning. Nervously she found herself biting the inside of her lip.

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   Fallon Gillespie

---

It had taken quite some effort on his part to resist cooling his gaze and fixing her with a disapproving stare as he would with Sterling or Abernathy. Which perhaps was a testament to how often he himself found it hard to not automatically shift his mind out of the workspace. Which in turn meant he was none other than a hypocrite. At this realization, Faustus smiled in spite of himself and chuckled, shaking his head slightly before deepening the smile as he looked at her again.

“Miss Skovgaard, you’re almost as bad as some of the aurors.” He said, with a hint of irony in his tone. But in his next breath, sighed and continued: “Although I suppose I should have no room to admonish, even if I wanted to.”

He paused sheepishly and averted his gaze. “I found myself back at work Sunday afternoon.” And that was only because his ever loyal valet had taken the liberty to chastise him thoroughly. Else he would have been quite content to head into the office as he had planned to regardless of the disaster at the Sanditon.

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   Fallon Gillespie

Malou was tempted to disagree, Fallon was much worse than herself, but she refrained because that smile on his face warmed her, the chuckle like a balm to her ears pushing aside the cries of early Sunday morning. At his own admission however, Malou found a chuckle crossing her own lips. "You are as bad as my roommate." And now herself, she supposed. Thankfully Mrs. Bagshot had not heard the comment, she hated when Malou shared it society events, but it was a part of who Malou was and she would not hide it from others. She had made the decision, unconvential as it was, and well, she already knew that she was not the right match for a man like Mr. Prewett, so there hardly seemed any reason to condemn herself for the slip.

She felt the need to explain slightly, "But I understand. I did not have the consciousness to rest when I knew I might be helping others." Which was precisely why she had gone into healing after all. The fact that she hadn't been able to help more at Sanditon given the lack of supplies, her own injuries, and the misadventure that had fallen Mr. Prewett and herself, she almost felt as if she did not deserve to be a healer. She had failed and it was, quite truthfully, haunting her - and unfortunately she didn't realize that it was showing on her face.

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   Fallon Gillespie

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Her comment about her roommate threw him off guard, which he would have commented on had her expression not perplexed him. Though he didn't know her well, Faustus had a distinct feeling that she felt she shouldn't have taken any breaks, not when there were people suffering in the world. The most peculiar feeling overcame him and he had the sudden urge to take her hand, though he was sitting across from her, so he dispersed this desire by running a hand through his hair.

"Are you referring to this weekend at the Sanditon, or your profession as a healer as a whole?" He inquired, wanting to first confirm his suspicions before he moved further with the words gathering in his mind.

---

  

"Both." Malou's truthful answer was soft spoken but held conviction, "But specifically this weekend." Oddly, given his career and her insight into the mentality of an auror after all these years living with Fallon Malou suspected that Mr. Prewett might actually understand. Mrs. Bagshot certainly didn't, Malou had often suspected that Mr. Bagshot might, but her godmother was had never worked a day in her life. To her work was supporting her husband socially, hosting society events and keeping their life running smoothly. But for Malou that had never seemed fulfilling. Sure, her mother had seemed at peace with her life, but Malou had always been too curious. Not to mention some part of her mind always assumed her mother's happiness in her role stemmed from the fact that she was often much to ill to do anything more. Malou had loved her life, loved her mother, but by the time she had finished her OWLS she had been aware that she wanted more with her life. If her decision hadn't already been made that fateful summer, it would have been simply by nature of what had happened. Indeed, their passings had only strengthened Malou's resolve, cemented her desire to help as much as possible. It was why Mrs. Thompsett's death haunted her so badly, she never wanted another child to lose a parent. She understood that pain too well.

  

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