Edgeworth Manor

[MJ Spooks]

Wesley Edgeworth // Dahlia Edgeworth // Damien Edgeworth
Hogwarts Governor // Dining Room // Wearing
Housewife // Dining Room // Wearing
Unsorted // First Year // Dining Room // Wearing
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spaceWesley Edgeworth awoke the morning of his son's departure, heading immediately to the dining room for breakfast. His son was not yet downstairs, he noted with displeasure. This wouldn't do; the boy must learn to be prompt. It was already six, Damien should be packed and ready to go. But, alas, he was likely still upstairs in bed. Wesley's nostrils flared in annoyance. "Brownie!" His shout echoed through the empty rooms of the manor. The House Elf appeared at her master's feet, her eyes averted from his face. "Yes, Master Edgeworth?" She knew he was angry about something, could tell just from his simple tone. Wesley looked down at the creature, his eyes dimming in disinterest and distaste. "Go upstairs and fetch my son, whatever state he is in. If he is still asleep, I want you to bring him in his pajamas." 'That boy had better at least be dressed.'

spaceDahlia passed the House Elf on her way into the dining room, her nose wrinkling at the sight. She hated to see them in the house; in her mind, such low creatures should work silently and in the shadows; they should not be seen by decent folk. She entered the room and sat at the end of the table opposite her husband. "How are you this morning, dear?"

spaceWesley's eyes narrowed. He didn't care for small talk at the table; she knew that. Still, she insisted on trying to draw him into conversation. "I am as I always am in the morning, Dahlia. I am hungry and already weary of the day ahead of me."

spaceDahlia nodded her head in sympathy. She knew that his job put a lot of strain on him, simply because of the people he had to associate with. "Well, at least upon your return the home will be quiet. I will be taking Damien to the train soon."

spaceWesley snorted. "I doubt very much if the boy is even up."

spaceDamien was awake, and packed, in fact. He simply hadn't gone down the stairs to leave yet, not sure if he really wanted to go away to school. He detested the idea of being around so many other children, particularly knowing that some of them would be of a lower class than himself, and yet he would be expected to interact with them. Thankfully, he was sure to be sorted into Slytherin, so his exposure to them would be lessened. But, he was nervous about one thing... or rather, one person. He knew that Adalaide Blythe was the same age as he; she would be there. He hoped she didn't harbor any kind of feelings of friendship towards him; they were not remotely compatible. He could not be seen with such a person. Brownie knocked on Damien's door, then entered, bowing her head to avoid making eye contact. "Master Edgeworth requests your presence in the dining room for breakfast, Master Damien." Damien nodded and headed down the stairs and to the dining room. He entered quietly, taking his seat towards the middle of the table. "Good morning, father, mother," he said quietly.

spaceWesley inclined his head to the boy, pleased to see that he was awake. "I take it your things are packed and you are ready to depart?" At his son's nod, he inclined his head, finishing the last of his breakfast and standing to leave. He patted the boy gently on the shoulder, a rare sign of affection. "Write us immediately upon your arrival. If you are sorted properly, we will send the response with your new owl." Damien's getting a pet was contingent on his being sorted into Slytherin. Not that Wesley was overly concerned; the boy was an Edgeworth, after all. He departed from the room and left to work without another word.

spaceThe remaining two Edgeworths finished their breakfasts shortly after and departed for King's Cross.

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(( OOC: ))
...

 

[MJ Spooks]

Time skip from the beginning of Damien's first year to summer after his second.
Because I am a terrible person and failed to pay attention to anything going on here over the 'school year.'

 

[MJ Spooks]

Wesley Jackson Edgeworth // Dahlia Vivian Edgeworth // Damien Warren Edgeworth
Hogwarts Governor // Study // Wearing
CURRENTLY WITH // Dahlia
CURRENTLY FEELING // Angry
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'What is wrong with her, why does she insist on hiding Damien instead of caring for him?'
Housewife // Study // Wearing
CURRENTLY WITH // Wesley
CURRENTLY FEELING // Annoyed
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'Why is it suddenly so important to him to argue with me over how to raise my son?'
Slytherin // Third Year // Hallway, outside the Study // Wearing
CURRENTLY WITH // No one
CURRENTLY FEELING // Upset
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'They... they're fighting... Father is actually yelling!'
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spaceWesley sat in his study, quietly reading to himself, when the door opened. He scowled to see his wife enter. Perhaps it was petty, but lately the mere sight of her sent him into a fury. All she ever did was look down her nose at him, as if she'd suddenly decided he was the scum beneath her boot, the same as all the other low-lifes. He pushed the thought away, instead moving onto wondering what she was doing in his Study. She knew this room was off limits to her, that it was his private space. "What do you want, Dahlia?" he asked in a tired voice. Tired because that's what he was; he was tired. He was tired of arguing with her over how to raise Damien, tired of her looking at him like that, tired of her overstepping her bounds. She had a place, and she needed to stay there. She might say the same for him, but he was the man of the household, meaning that he held the final say in everything, even matters that were technically under her control. That was simply how things worked.

spaceDahlia wanted to snort at his tone. He dared to speak to her like that? He knew damn well what she wanted; his removing her locking spell on the boy's door had been one step too far. She was Damien's mother, it was her right to decide how best to handle the situation he had put them in. Wesley had no right to come into her home and suddenly act like he cared about the boy. "He needs to be locked up, Wesley," she told him, in her most imperious voice.

spaceHer husband's eyes sparked in anger. "Needs to be locked up? For what reason does he 'need to be locked up'? He's a child; he's not dangerous, he's troubled. And, in any case, in a much better state than he has been since the attack. Or, have you forgotten, our eleven year old son was almost killed? He's not disturbed, Dahlia, he's in pain. And locking him up like a dirty secret won't change that or help it! All it does it make it worse!"

spaceDahlia walked up to Wesley's desk, laying her hands on the surface and leaning in, her lip curled in disgust. "Worse? The boy is a source of shame, Wesley, he's pathetic, parading about with that dull look on his face, not knowing his own name half the time! He's weak! I see no need to encourage such weakness. There are plenty who have been closer to death and not acted so pitifully. And he is beyond help."

space"And how would you possibly know that? You didn't even try to help, you just threw him up there and left him to be alone with his thoughts... all of which were probably on what happened to him!"

space"If you recall, he was better when he left for school. It was going back that made him worse. I say we shouldn't let him go back again at all; let him stay up there, locked in his room, where he's not damaging anything or anyone and doesn't have to deal with the stress."

spaceWesley snapped. He stood up from his chair in a swift movement, slamming his hands on the desk mere centimeters from his wife's. He placed his face within an inch of hers, and snarled, "You pathetic wretch, you're more concerned about your own image than the well being of your son! What kind of a mother are you, that you would leave him up there to rot while you sit at the table acting like he never existed? Are you daft? Are you really that bloody cruel?" He was yelling straight into her face, his eyes flashing with anger.

spaceDahlia realized she had gone too far, that he was too angry. She had a hint of fear in her eyes for the briefest of moments, before it was gone, hidden under her cool, aloof mask. She stepped back. "Wesley, I will not argue with you. I will not stand here and let you yell at me. We will talk about this when you are being more reasonable." As she turned to leave, she barely heard his parting words.

space"Filthy b***h."

spaceDamien had been walking down the hallway when the commotion started, had been able to hear the argument. His mother's entrance had left the door cracked open. He'd peeked in through the opening and watched almost the entire exchange between the two... his father was actually yelling at his mother. his father never raised his voice, but... for a moment, Damien thought the man was going to hit his mother. And, for a part of that moment, he was silently begging him to do it. The woman had made him miserable last summer. His father thought he was brave; why did she think he was weak? When he saw her coming to the door, he ran, ducking around a corner as quickly as he could, and then through the first closed door he came to. It was one of the many unused rooms of the home, all old furniture from the last century, covered in dust. There, he sat, waiting to hear the click of his mother's heels, letting him know she had passed.

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(( OOC: ))
...

 

[Essy ze Ninja]

A crisp white scroll, tied with a delicate ribbon of emerald, and finely embossed silver scripture with the monogram 'M. L. M.', of the mother of the ancient house of Montague, Mary-Louise Montague.

Mr. and Mrs. Edgeworth,

I'm disheartened to say that we've never had much chance to acquaint our noble houses together sooner, though, my son, Dominic, has grown a fast friendship with your son, Damien. He's shown quite interest in hoping to spend perhaps a weekend with your son in your home, or ours, whichever you prefer will be delightful for me. Of course, I hope the both of you would be interested to meet for tea with my husband and I to discuss further plans for the boys this summer, whenever you're free, of course.

Sincerely,
Mary-Louise Montague

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

Banshee, Aldred Family Owl

The next letter to be delivered to Edgeworth Manor is not nearly as formal, a simple piece of parchment rolled up and tied with a piece of twine. The owl that carries it is not nearly as regal, a short, squat, little thing that has a habit of screeching like something out of a horror story. And this letter is delivered to the window of a certain boy's room, for the writer is a wary of anyone else reading it.

Damien,

Hello. It's me, Marina. I'm not sure if you want me writing you, and I'm not sure if I should be writing you at all, but here I am. Writing you. I hope you're having a good summer, well a better one than last year at any rate. I'm hoping my family's idiot of an owl delivered this to you, so your parents aren't reading this right now and having a fit. That would be bad. I'm probably already not popular at your household anyways. So I guess it's my turn to be locked up for the summer, because I'm in heaps of trouble at home. My parents aren't speaking to me, so I can see just how mad they are. Things are tense. They even took away my books! If you write me back I'll tell you what exactly I did. It was bad, I assure you.

-Marina  

[MJ Spooks]

Wesley Jackson Edgeworth // Dahlia Vivian Edgeworth // Damien Warren Edgeworth
Hogwarts Governor // Study // Wearing
CURRENTLY WITH // Dahlia
CURRENTLY FEELING // Agitated
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'Honestly, the nerve... that damned woman...'
Housewife // Study // Wearing
CURRENTLY WITH // Wesley
CURRENTLY FEELING // Annoyed
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'He has lost his bloody mind!'
Slytherin // Third Year // Hallway, outside the Study // Wearing
CURRENTLY WITH // No one
CURRENTLY FEELING // Curious
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'What on Earth could she have possibly done?'
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spaceDahlian was the first to check the mail that day, and thus the one to receive the letter from Mrs. Mary-Louise Montague. The prim and snobbish woman read the signature line before the letter, as she always did, to see if the letter would be worth reading at all. No sense in giving any concern to mail from a less than proper source, she thought. Dahlia wrinkled her nose at the first name of the writer. Mary-Louise seemed rather gauche to her. Upon reaching the last name, however, her eyebrows went up. Montague? Why on Earth would a Montague be writing to them? She frowned, her eyes taking in the letter. As she read, her expression grew gradually more displeased. The woman was entirely too friendly, though properly formal, which bothered her greatly. And her request... there was absolutely no way she would allow her son to spend a weekend with another family. He simply wasn't right for it... or right at all. And the Montague boy would certainly not be staying with them. Her relationship with Wesley was strained at best lately, and she was not one to allow outsiders to see such a noble marriage in such a state. It was that boy... they had been doing so well. The only other time they had ever fought like this was when Damien had befriended that damned girl and Wesley had blamed her! And now, here he was, commending the child for saving the life of one! It was almost insufferable. How dare he... He insisted that befriended the lower classes and doing what was right by a woman, particularly one of Slytherin House, were entirely different matters. As if suddenly blood didn't matter to the fool. She snorted, taking the letter to her room, where she sat at the desk, scribbling a reply to the woman.

Mrs. Montague,

I am sorry to say that my son is in no state to be seeing anyone due to illness. I do not foresee a quick recovery and do not wish to expose your son to him at this time. Furthermore, both my husband and I are excessively busy, and will, unfortunately, have no time for tea. My deepest apologies for this inconvenience.

Sincerely,
Dahlia Vivian Edgeworth

spacePlease with herself for forming such a tactful refusal, Dahlia made her way downstairs to the main hall, where their family owl, Gavin, was perched. She approached him with a cold smile. She rather hated the bird; she hated animals of any kind. But, she knew that owls were useful, and so she permitted his stay indoors, despite her dislike, so long as he did not mess up her home, the main reason he had no cage and was permitted to come and go. She held out a hand, requesting his leg to give him the letter. Gavin hooted uncertainly ; he could sense her distaste and knew she didn't care for him, and was confused about her uncharacteristic approach. Typically, she took and answered mail, but allowed Wesley the task of sending it, precisely so she did not have to deal with the bird. However, Dahlia was not about to let Wesley send anything she'd written. Not with their fighting, and not with this letter dealing with precisely the matter they'd fought over. She waved her hand to the bird, gesturing for his leg. He hooted again, rather loudly this time, earning a foul look from the woman. "Give me your leg, you bloody awful bird!" Dahlia snarled, another rather uncharacteristic thing for her to do. Gavin lifted his leg for her to tie the letter, but just then, Dahlia heard an all-too familiar clicking on the marble floor.

spaceWesley entered the room then, his expression displeased, one eyebrow raised in question. "Dahlia, why ever are you screaming at my owl?" he asked, his tone firm but strangely casual, as if he were daring her to give him a reason to be angry, taunting her. He glanced at the letter in her hand, and stepped forward quickly, taking it from her and looking at the address. "Rather odd of you, to be sending mail yourself. Odder still that you would be sending it to someone I have no knowledge of you being friends with. Would I be correct in assuming that this is a reply? I do believe that Damien has mentioned being friends with a Montague. Perhaps his parents wish for the boys to see one another, and you're trying to sneak around, keeping me from knowing so you can keep the boy locked up here?" He noticed a folded letter in her pocket, and reached for that, taking it out. "He's shown quite interest in hoping to spend perhaps a weekend with your son in your home, or ours..." His eyes grew cold as he opened Dahlia's reply and read it. When he looked back to her, his face was a mask of anger. "You will not send this letter, Dahlia. My son will be spending time with his friend this summer, whether you care for it or not. I will not allow you to turn him into some crazed recluse!" Wesley then held out his arm to the owl, who was still perched, watching the two fearfully. When Wesley looked at Gavin, his face softened. "Come on, then, Gavin. I'll need you to come with me so that I can send a proper reply without this wretched meddling." The owl hopped to his master's arm and the two left the room, Wesley retiring to his study to write his own letter to Mrs. Mary-Louise Montague.

spaceMeanwhile, in his room, Damien was receiving his own letter. The owl who delivered it was properly disheveled, which confounded the boy, who'd never seen such a miserably creature. He opened his window for it, and the took the letter. Having his own owl, and a much more reliable one to his mind, he waved the creature away, giving it a treat and a pat on the head before sending it off. Looking to the letter, he was surprised to see that it was from Marina, having read the sender's name firsthand, a habit he'd picked up from his mother, he realized with distaste. He was happy to have sent the bird off without his reply after reading Marina's fear that he might not receive the letter due to the 'idiot of an owl.' He was also frightfully curious as to what the girl could possibly have done to have her books taken away. He immediately sat down and penned a reply, sending it with Tobi, glad to have his own owl and not have to sneak Gavin the letter. His mother was on the prowl, constantly watching him, much to his displeasure.

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(( OOC: ))
...

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

Banshee, Aldred Family Owl

Banshee had just made her second trip to the Edgeworth Manor. Though it's a while's away from Dunstable, she rather liked going there. The boy was nice and always gave her a treat. He was much better than that horrible redheaded girl she lives with, who yelled at her for dropping dead mice in her window seat.

Damien,

That's great! Not that they're fighting of course, but that you aren't locked up. At least you have some freedom to do as you please. I'm glad you're having a better summer. Hopefully your mother will come to her senses, though she sounds a bit....set in her ways. No offense to you.

I'm fine, don't worry. Aside from my twisted ankle. I think it's sprained actually, judging from my limp. But it's getting better. Good thing my mum took Healing at Hogwarts, because my dad would probably accidentally kill me if he tried healing it. The man's clueless about that sort of thing, I'm afraid. But I'm in quite a lot of trouble. I'm not allowed to read any books other than school ones, listen to music, or go out of the house. Not that I really want to, I don't have any friends living nearby and the village itself is extremely dull.

But anyways, by now you're probably wanting me to get to the point, so I shall. I did promise, after all. I sort of.... OK, this is a really long and complicated story and I don't even know all of it, so I'll make it short: I went off with some others on a rescue mission to save some captives from a group of dark wizards experimenting with magical blood. You probably don't believe me, and I can't blame you. But I swear I'm telling the truth. That's why I'm limping around with a sprained ankle; I got thrown into a wall because I was an idiot and tried to tackle a grown man. Feel free to laugh at me; it was stupid, I know. He didn't get far, though! I immobilized the git before he made it a yard. Bloody jerk. Pushing around girls half his size. I hope the vampires got him. Yes, there were vampires there. And centaurs.

So, you can see why my parents are mad. Obviously, I didn't ask for their permission. "Hey Mum. Hey Dad. I'm off to save the day. I'll probably be late for supper so go ahead and eat without me," Yeah, no. I did send them a letter before I left, so I gave them some warning. Not that it helped me out when they were screaming at me. My dad almost had a coronary when he and my mum saw me, there was blood everywhere and dead bodies and half the place was on fire. I'm remarkably chipper about all of this, which is a bit disturbing, I suppose. But if I let it get to me too much there will be a repeat of last year. I feel bad for those who died, of course, and some stuff going on was... I can't describe it or I'll feel sick. Let me just say that some people are sub human, and enjoy doing terrible things because they think they're working for the "greater good". Why is it that the "greater good" is always good for some and absolute hell for others? I have absolutely no pity for any of those awful people dying in rightly awful ways, which I'm sure they did. I think I hit one of them in the face with an incendio spell at some point....

That's been my summer so far. My first magical battle, too. I didn't duel anyone of course; I'm not that reckless. Write back soon! There's nothing to do here except argue with my parents, and as amusing as that is it gets old rather quickly.

-Marina  

[Essy ze Ninja]

An Eurasian Eagle Owl swooped down after its long journey from Wales to Ottery St. Catchpole, the poor owl had flown here once or twice on official business, and each time, its master met him in the Hearth Room where the most enchantments were kept—besides the Vault Room, that is. The owl peered down longingly at the manor with a keen eye for rest, although, it was distracted by a scurrying mouse hidden in the bramble and brush a ways away from the manor. No, it had to keep its focus and find the one its master had bid to find. And once he had, he hooted, taking a regal pose with his feathers tufted out at his chest, and continued to hoot, until he was found.

Quote:

Mr. Wesley Edgeworth,

It’s come to my attention that my son has requested permission to have your son, Damien, over for the summer. I do hope you’ll meet me to plan further arrangements for our sons; I’ll be having a late lunch at The Three Broomsticks this weekend around noon after a few errands. Owl a reply if a different time better suits you.

Best Regards,
Charles Montague

 

[Essy ze Ninja]

In the dead of night, the young great horned owl swooped across the grounds of the Edgeworth manor with swift silence. Harboring at rest at the edge of a wide paneled glass window where it could see the clear silhouette of the lady of the house. The owl was loyal, and dutiful, it would release its simple message to none other than the one it was destined for.

Won’t you dance in the night with me like the sun hath lost its creed?


I’ll be waiting for you in D’Lux Gold
Nott

 

[MJ Spooks]

Dahlia Vivian Edgeworth
Mother & Wife // Housewife & Socialite // Wearing at Homespace
CURRENTLY // single // crushing // married to my husband, Wesley Jacksonspaces
CURRENTLY WITH // No onespacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Excitedspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'This should prove interesting...' spacespac
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Dahlia glanced out the window when she saw movement in her peripheral vision, expecting Gavin or even Tobias, the owls of her husband and son. When she realized it was neither of them, and that in fact she'd never seen this owl before, she opened the window, curious, and took the letter attached to it's leg. She read it quickly, a sly smile curving on her face. So he wanted her to meet him. How... interesting. She admitted that she'd been rather set on stopping by his shop again, eager for another back and forth with the first man who could ever effectively dance with her words. Wesley had always been a disappointment in that regard, too formal, too honest. She decided against replying, shooing the owl away and readying herself to go. He hadn't said a particular time, so it stood to reason that he meant now. Luckily, her husband was already in bed for the night. She burned the letter with the flame of a lit candle, her eyes dancing in the flickering light, and she dressed to meet him. Still formal and uppercrust as ever, she did choose a dress that was a tad more enticing than her usual. She hoped to enchant him. She didn't know where this would go just yet, but it was fun, and she hadn't had fun in a very long time. Dressed and ready to go, she Apparated away.

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(( OOC: ))
** Dahlia exit to D'Lux Gold **

 

[MJ Spooks]

The Edgeworths……………………………………………………
Wesley Jackson // Dahlia Vivian // Damien Warren
Former Slytherin // Hogwarts Board of Governors // Wearing at Homespace
CURRENTLY // single // crushing // married to my wife, Dahlia Vivianspaces
CURRENTLY WITH // Damien and Dahliaspacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Angryspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'Oh, for the love of all that his Holy, if she dares to defy me...' spacespac
Former Slytherin // Housewife & Socialite // Wearing at Locationspace
CURRENTLY // single // crushing // married to my husband, Wesley Jacksonspaces
CURRENTLY WITH // Wesley and Damienspacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Furiousspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'Surely he can't be so defective that he can't see how disgusting this is...' spacespac
Slytherin // Fifth Year // Wearing at Locationspace
CURRENTLY // single // crushing // loving Marina Aldredspaces
CURRENTLY WITH // His Parentsspacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Afraidspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'This is going to be awful... maybe I should try to get Brownie to start packing my things...' spacespac
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Wesley Jackson Edgeworth entered his home late that evening, not the least bit surprised to find his wife standing in the doorway, looking like she were ready to hex the first person to walk through the door. He thanked his lucky stars that is had been him and not his son; he had seen the boy following him home, and was glad to see that Damien had followed his directions and not returned straight home. No doubt Dahlia would've already done a number on him. He could only imagine... but, he'd arrived first, and had perhaps a minute to converse with his wife (he sneered as the word ran through his head) before their son arrived. He removed his coat and gloves carefully, giving her a pointed look. "I suppose you've been here all day, waiting for Damien to arrive? Ready to pounce on him?" Wesley would have snorted if the action weren't so horribly crass. He turned to Dahlia, his eyebrow cocked. "You know, you've made such a big deal out of how embarrassing it is for your son to be dating a Halfblood... but you've brought more than enough shame onto yourself. How strange, that you continually find yourself vexed at myself and our son comporting ourselves less than nobly, when you are the one having an affair." His expression turned to ice, his eyes narrowing, his tone shifting to one of accusation. "If our son is acting out, such things are to be expected. He's young, after all. And if he must date a Halfblood, at least the one he's settled on his one with ambition, and skill. Not a bad match, really, aside from her blood. But you... you're a married woman, Dahlia. Or have you forgotten? You shouldn't be so eager to go to such public, not to mention seedy, places, meeting with some man."

Dahlia shrieked in annoyance as Wesley brought up her meetings with Remington. As if she were doing something wrong by seeing someone, anyone, just to speak with? Of course, as little as her bloody husband thought of her of late, he'd probably convinced himself that she was having some sordid affair with Remington, spending her spare time between his sheets... which, now that she thought of it, might not be such a horrible place to be, if it got her out of this bloody nightmare of a home... she banished the thought. None of that was the point! The point was that their son was fraternizing with some little halfblooded harlot and Wesley was standing there, discussing the brat as if she were a suitable match! "Do not make this about me! I have done nothing! As if I would! This is about our son, who, as you seem to have so easily accepted, is dating filth! I don't care who she is, or what she's like, she is a filthy Halfblood, and affront to our magical lineage, and he is cavorting about with her like she is worthy! It's disgusting, and the fact that you are treating is like a joke is nothing short of insulting, to me, my family, and your own! If your parents were alive-"

"Do not bring up my parents! My parents were monstrous, horrible people, who would have killed every mother, woman and child who bore anything less than pure magical blood!" Wesley's words exploded from him, a sudden burst of anger that Dahlia would bring those two up. While Wesley might have some pride in his blood, he didn't think that a lack of a noble, pure lineage made someone unworthy of their very life. He took a couple breaths, unused to losing his temper, and began again, in a cold, even voice. "As for Damien's dalliance with Marina, it is probably just a phase. It happens. Children find love in school, they date for a while, then they get into a fight and break up. The chances that the two of them would actually end up in a position where his dating her could adversely effect him is-"

"We're not breaking up." The words echoed in the Entrance Hall, hanging in the air like cobwebs from the rafters. Damien's parents turned to look at their son, his mother's eyes holding a dangerous light, his father's looking mildly curious, as if were eagerly awaiting what Damien had to say. The Edgeworth heir stood in the doorway, looking straight ahead, willing himself not to show how utterly terrified he was. His fists were clenched to keep them from shaking, his jaw set so he wouldn't grind his teeth or bite his lip. As the silence drug on, he waited, expecting one of them to say something, but no words came from either of their lips. He took a deep breath. "It's not going to happen. We... we fit. Everything... everything that's happened between us has been pushing us together. And... and I don't want to break up with her, and I don't care what you do. You can kick me out, disown me, whatever. It's... it's not worth it anymore. To be the son you want. I... it's never gotten me anywhere. So... so I'm done." Damien ended it there, brushing past his parents, keeping his pace firm and refusing to linger. He did stop, for one second, when he reached the top of the staircase, to look back at his mother, a cruel look on his face. "By the way? Your stupid Howler didn't even phase her. She called you pathetic and desperate... which you are." With that, he walked away, making his way to his bedroom. When he arrived, he asked Brownie to help him pack a few things he couldn't leave without. Mostly books, a few clothes. He didn't need much.

Wesley's expression throughout his son's speech grew more and more amused. When he walked past them both, his back straight, his stance defiant, Wesley felt a bit of pride for his son. He wasn't overly happy about the prospect of his son possibly being utterly devoted to a halfblood, but Marina was a smart girl, possibly with more ambition than his son personally held. She was certainly a good match. Were she pureblood, their relationship would be the best thing that had ever happened to his son. As things stood... the certainly could be much worse. He thought that actually, he might be alright with this turn of events. He'd always thought that blood mattered because it often told what sort of prospects a person would have... but Marina had proven that her blood wasn't holding her back.

His mood dramatically shifted, however, when Damien mentioned a Howler. What Howler? Wesley's eyes narrowed, sparking furiously as he turned them to his wife. She'd sent a bloody Howler to the girl? He stalked towards her, grabbing her upper arms, placing his face an inch from hers. His voice was quiet, barely a whisper, and his tone was dangerous. "Your solution was to send a Howler? How bloody crass could you be, you foolish twit!" Wesley released her arms by tossing her forward, his face a mask of cold fury. "The girl is right. You are pathetic. And that is my last word on the matter."

Wesley followed his son up the stairs, entering the room to find a half-packed bag and the family House-Elf stuffing a few books into it, alongside some clothes. His anger banished with Dahlia out of his sight, and he chuckled. When Damien came into the room from his closet, Wesley offered a smile and sat on the foot of the bed, waving Brownie away. He patted the bed next to him. This gesture was unusually fatherly of him, and one that he was somewhat uncomfortable making. Still, he waited patiently for Damien to sit beside him.

Damien eyes his father suspiciously. He seemed... almost fatherly, which was rather out of character for him, even lately. Especially given the scene downstairs. Still, he sat, and waited.

"You know, that was quite possibly the first thing I've ever seen you do that proved how noble you really are." Damien wanted to argue with his father's words, wanted to say that he wasn't going to be their noble, regal heir anymore, but was silenced by a gesture. "I was quite impressed. And proud. And... and it's made me reconsider what I was going to tell you when we had a moment alone. I noticed that you're not wearing your ring. I assume that she has it?" Damien's expression answered the question for him. "That's... that's alright. If this is your path... then I will accept it. You know I've always been... accepting. And while I would prefer that our line stay pure, I know... I know that such desires are somewhat outdated. And perhaps I'm a bit outdated as well. So there's no need for you to pack your things, I'm not kicking you out or disowning you. However, you will need to arrange a night for her family to join us for dinner. It's the least you can do."

Damien eyed his father in disbelief. Had... had he honestly just given him and Marina his blessing? That... that was not even remotely how he'd imagined this going. Not even close. Damien swallowed hard, and he could only manage one sentence, one question.

"What are you going to do about Mother?"

Downstairs, Dahlia was seething. That little brat! After all she'd done for him! Raising him, teaching him, this was how he repaid her? By defying her, insulting the gift of her family lineage by daring to mingle it with some filthy halfblood whore? Dahlia wanted to scream, wanted to hurt someone or something. And her husband! Accusing her of having an affair! Treating her like she was a source of shame while allowing their son to commit such a crime against their name! It was disgusting! Her eyes narrowed. He thought she was having an affair with Remington? Well... she could certainly do worse. Dahlia stalked to her bedroom to change, and once she was dressed properly for what she had in mind, she vanished into the night.

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(( OOC: ))
...

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

The Aldred Family Owl

-Banshee-

The small owl barreled through an open window with a screech, and made a beeline for the pale boy with the dark hair, who she remembered as the one who would give her treats on occasion, and never yelled, unlike the girl she had the misfortune of living with, who glared at her a lot and had on one occasion cursed her out in a foreign language for pecking her on the head.

Marina

Damien,

It went alright. Apparently my mum had her suspicions already, and she seems fine with it, as long as I'm happy. My dad was a little harder to bring around, mostly because he thinks I'm still twelve or something. But I'm sure he'll warm up to the idea of me having a boyfriend. Eventually.

That is very strange! You mean he wasn't even angry in the slightest? Wait- WHAT?! He was really okay with it?! I mean, I knew he wasn't as worked up about us as your mother was, but I didn't think he'd be so... accepting of it. Wow. This is going to take a while to sink in. Well, I'm glad you haven't been disowned or kicked out or anything because of me. And my parents want to meet you anyways, so dinner shouldn't be a problem. But, yes, having them over while your mother is around would probably not end well for anyone.

Thank you for writing me, because I was starting to worry a little, not knowing if my boyfriend was homeless or not. Write me again soon!

Yours,
Marina

show spoilerhide spoiler

Cara MiaKitty

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

The Aldred Family Owl

-Banshee-

Banshee once again visited the Edgeworth home, not exactly happy to be toting around letters from the redheaded girl, but hopefully there'd be treats for her. The girl had been unusually cheerful and even nice to her lately. Clearly, she was plotting something.

The Aldreds

Dear Damien,

We're more than happy to accept your invitation to dinner Friday night. It will be a pleasure to meet the boy our Marina thinks so highly of, and she's certainly delighted to be seeing you. It will be nice to meet your father as well, and we look forward to seeing you and him on Friday. As for the meal, whatever you think is best we're fine with.

Sincerely,
Mr. and Mrs. Aldred, or Dustin and Bernadette.

Marina

Damien,

It's alright. I think my mum thought it was sweet how polite you worded it. Don't worry about my parents, I promise they'll love you.

Of course we can make dinner! My summer's been dreadfully dull so far, anyways, and I've never actually been to your house. Is there a moat? Kidding, kidding. I'll be sure to check the letter again on Friday. I agree, your mother showing up might be a bit of a disaster. I didn't tell my parents about the Howler.. but still. They're wildly protective of me to begin with, and I don't need them hexing your mother or something.

Anyways, I'm sure everything will be fine. I'm looking forward very much to Friday.

Yours,
Marina

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Cara MiaKitty

 

[MJ Spooks]

The Edgeworths……………………………………………………
Wesley Jackson // Dahlia Vivian // Damien Warren
Former Slytherin // Hogwarts Board of Governors // Wearing at Locationspace
CURRENTLY // single // crushing // married to my wife, Dahlia Vivianspaces
CURRENTLY WITH // My son, Damienspacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Calmspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'Let's hope that Dahlia stays gone tonight... not that there's any question that she will.' spacespac
Slytherin // Fifth Year // Wearing at Locationspace
CURRENTLY // single // crushing // loving Marina Aldredspaces
CURRENTLY WITH // Fatherspacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Nervousspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'Oh, I hope this goes well.' spacespac
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Damien was relieved when, almost like clockwork, his mother left at five o'clock. The fifth year had to admit, he thought that, as shameful as it might be, his mother's affair was benefiting the entire household. She'd taken to leaving just when Father returned home from work, and arriving back when he was leaving the next morning. It was a clear ploy to ensure that Wesley knew full well where she was going each night, and that she'd been staying there. When she arrived home, she simply went to bed, telling Brownie, loudly enough that it echoed through the manor's halls, that she'd been up all night. It was probably supposed to bother Damien, but frankly, he didn't care. He hated his mother, and thought his father would to well to be rid of her. It was only a matter of time before Wesley was fed up with her nonsense and kicked her out. He'd already decided to move her bedroom suite to the East Wing of the Manor, only two doors down from the House-Elves quarters. His own small revenge, Damien thought. But honestly, he couldn't wait for the day that his father said the dreaded word, divorce. She'd die. It would be amazing.

All this pleasantness, however, couldn't keep his nerves under contol. He was seated in the parlor, dressed in a new suit. He wondered if it was merely out of politeness or to showcase their wealth to the Aldreds. His father might be taking this all in stride, but he still loved to show people how rich he was. His name meant everything to him. Well, almost everything, Damien thought with a small smile. He had a suspicion that perhaps, for the first time ever, his father was putting him before the family name. He had to be. After all, why else would he allow Damien to date Marina? There was still a small part of Damien that thought his father might be plotting to do what he'd done with Adalaide's family, but he kept telling himself it was just a foolish worry. After all, Wesley had done nothing to indicate that he was lying about his acceptance of Marina. So, he sat in one of the plush Parlor chairs, fidgeting and twiddling this thumbs, his primary concern making a good impression on her parents. Particularly her father, who he didn't think was overly pleased with them dating. And perhaps he was ever so slightly worried that his mother would, for whatever reason, make an appearance. But that was unlikely.

Wesley glanced at his son, an eyebrow arched. He didn't think he'd ever seen the boy so nervous. It was sort of... sweet. He was so worried about impressing the girl's parents. Wesley couldn't quite comprehend it. He knew that the father, Dustin Aldred, worked in the Ministry, but he didn't think the Goblin Liaison office was one that was overly impressive to work for. The wife Bernadette was a stay at home mother, which wasn't exactly a horrible thing to be, but it hardly made her someone to wish to impress. Except for their being Marina's parents, they were both utterly unremarkable by Wesley's standards. If anything, Damien should be confident that his family name and home would impress them both. But, of course, parents didn't really look at such things when the relationship between their children was romantic. Were this an arranged marriage, Damien would have nothing to worry about, provided his insane, worthless mother kept herself away for the night. But, since he and Marina actually held affection for one another, he would be judged by a different standard altogether. Instead of being seen as someone who should care for her physical needs, he needed to be able to care for her emotional ones. How very strange. Wesley sighed a bit. At times, he was glad he'd never had to go through this... but then he recalled that his own marriage for the name had resulted in having Dahlia as his wife. The wretch. He was somewhat envious of Damien's ability to grow beyond it all. He glanced at the boy, who was still fidgeting. "Damien, sit still. You'll hardly make a good impression bouncing all over the place. Calm yourself. Everything will be fine."

Damien scowled a bit. Easy for him to say. He just had to be nice. Damien had to convince them he wasn't going to break Marina's heart or hurt her or make her cry or any of that. Easier said than done. But, his father was right, he did need to sit still. So, he took a couple deep breaths, stilled himself, and waited, his heart pounding so loudly he wasn't even sure if he'd be able to hear the doorbell ring.

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(( OOC: ))
...

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

Who's gonna FIGHT for what's RIGHT
Who's gonna HELP us SURVIVE
We're in the FIGHT of our LIVES
And we're not READY to DIE

Who's gonna FIGHT for the WEAK
Who's gonna MAKE 'em BELIEVE
I've GOT a HERO
LIVING in ME

MARINA EUGENIE ALDRED
PROUD HALFBLOOD
SLYTHERIN FIFTH YEAR

It's just another war: Determined | Just another family torn: It's going to go fine... | Just a step from the edge: Dustin and Bernadette | Just another day in the world we live in: Edgeworth Manor| Wearing

Marina stood in front of the Edgeworth Manor, looking for all the world like she was planning on conducting a break in. Her pale arms were crossed loosely over her lacy dress, which she had mixed feelings about. It was lacy and clingy, and made her take small steps. But it was her favorite color as well, and she never, ever wore clothes like this. Her wild hair was secured with a headband, and as she had refused to wear heels point blank, she was wearing sandals. Dress sandals. Her parents stood on either side of her, Bernadette in a fancy blouse and skirt, and Dustin in a suit. The three exchanged glances. "Are you two ready for this?" Marina asked firmly, looking at her parents. "There's no going back once we're inside."

They both nodded. "It's going to be fine, dear," Bernadette said calmly, squeezing her daughter's shoulder.

Dustin looked a bit more reluctant, but cracked a grin. "I promise not to scowl at your boyfriend. I can't say I won't glare, though."

His daughter huffed. "Dad, you're a Hufflepuff! Act like it! Please play nice, okay?" She stared up at her tall, six foot one father.

"I'll do my best, Rina."

Marina squared her shoulders resolutely. "Right. I'm ringing the doorbell now." She rang, and then they waited. The redheaded girl looked determined, the brunette woman calm, and the blonde man uneasy.

INTELLIGENCE without AMBITION is a BIRD without WINGS

I'm gonna FIGHT for what's RIGHT
Today I'm SPEAKING my MIND
And if it KILLS me TONIGHT
I will be READY to DIE

I've gotta FIGHT TODAY
To LIVE another DAY
SPEAKING my mind TODAY
My VOICE will be heard TODAY