"Doing well? I must be a better liar than I thought." Aisling's expression was appreciative, if a bit teasing, and she held onto his hand a little too long. She'd missed her old friend a great deal, and still tended to talk around her troubles rather than admitting to them.

Krix seemed to have quietly brought the tea tray when neither of them were looking-a bit of a feat even for the young House Elf. Aisling poured cups for both of them, and managed a smile. "It'd be good to speak with Catherine. Been rather too long since I have." A few months seemed like so much longer.

"Easter would be perfect. Sophia shouldn't take too many sittings, she's patient enough. Rowena fidgets a little." It was good to think of them being home, of playing and laughter. "The garden will be lovelier then, I hope. And they'll have their prettiest dresses. They got new ones for the Yule Ball, though I wouldn't be surprised if they started outgrowing things again." The clothes could be adjusted, but to do so properly did take a little time.

He hadn't meant to push her comment aside like that, and he regretted having bustled on with the discussion of the painting. Her grip had been longer than he had anticipated.

"I'll leave you to organise that." Monty replied softly, and a brief silence fell between them, as he looked down at his shoes beneath the table, thinking not only that he'd managed to get paint on his left sole, but that he had a duty to be a good friend.

Then without warning, Pepper got to his feet, stepped round the table and sat himself on the sofa beside Aisling without invitation, and gave her one of his rarer serious looks, his moustache twitching, and his curls bouncing.

"You'll come for dinner, soon. We'll fix a date, now." He told Aisling firmly, sat to her left. "Can't have you feeling like, well, whatever you're feeling, not my Aisling."

Octavius drew himself up straight.
"Now come here and have a hug, you silly girl!" He opened his arms to one of his oldest friends, and twitched his fingers in a beckoning motion, indicating she had no option but to bury herself in his shirt and waistcoat, and his greying curls. If she was lucky, he'd try not to brush his whiskers on her.

"You know I'm here, we're all here for you, even Ed. You're not silly, you're not weak, you're the most wonderful friend, kindest mother and a beautiful wife." He told Aisling softly. Hoping that if Tarron did walk in right now, he'd not throw a fit, but see that perhaps something was wrong with his gorgeous, intelligent wife.

"Fix a date? I should be able to come over before the end of the month, at-" She stopped herself at his insistence on a hug. He hadn't changed that much at all.

If only she could say the same about herself. It felt as if half her soul were gone, sometimes. But she leaned into the hug, and wrapped her arms around him in a movement both cautious and tired. This wasn't a gesture she was used to, she was never quite that warm.

"Thank you. But I can barely even sleep. My thoughts are far too disorganized." She pulled back  a little, and gave him a grateful smile. "Tarron worries that I'm not taking care of myself-he's probably right, as usual. He had to drag me off to St. Mungo's a month or so back, I was in such a state after work." The sigh at her own behavior there only managed to come across as exhausted. "I give him far too much to worry about. And with how I have been recently, I begin to wonder if I grow ill as well as tired."

Monty's expression was all concern as she confessed of her lack of sleep, disorganised thoughts, Tarron taking her to St Mungo's.

He dropped one of his arms from her and left one wrapped around her shoulders protectively.
"He's your husband, he's meant to worry about you, Ais. I know us menfolk can be pretty daft, but we want to be there, we just often don't know how or what the problem is." Monty rubbed her shoulder gently. "If you feel you can't tell him, then don't keep it all up there, its going to eat you away sweetheart. You can tell me, or Catherine. Hah, you've known me long enough to know that nothing is silly to me."

He drew her close and lifted his head to rest gently against her hair, wiggling his moustache as some of it caught in his bristles.
"My poor Aisling, you don't deserve this."

"I've given him too much cause to worry, though. And of course he knows, but he's had to deal with my memories for over a decade." Aisling slumped in her seat, head bowed.  "I'd thought that things were better, that I'd...and then it all came back so swiftly."

She lifted her cup of tea with shaking hands. "Perhaps I was just holding myself together for the girls' sake, all this time. And now I'm supposed to have time for whatever I wish and I just don't know how to rest." The words were slow and disjointed, tired.

"It'll never go away, I think. Not truly. Quieter, perhaps, but not away." A hand went to her neck, and the cup, still in her other hand, wavered. "Suppose that I didn't need any marks to remind me of it, in the end."

Monty watched her shaking hands and gave a little sigh, closing his eyes a moment.
"Had I known I might not have gone to America but… well, I think fate dictated I was going to either way. But I'll have words with Edwin for not looking after you, I will."

He patted her far shoulder, his arm still slung around them.
"You need good company, good wine and time. Perhaps rattling around here with an elf and a husband who goes at all hours to uphold the law isn't working for you, eh?"

His hand stroked her shoulder and then her back in a gesture that was meant to be comforting, and as an old friend. He might feel like a woman at that moment for it, but he was no more comforting his old friend as he did each of his daughters. Whether it had been Theta on some bad news from a friend in a letter, or Zeta over an argument, or Eta when she got so wound up over things as a toddler, it was all the same. Time, patience and a kind word.

"I don't suppose you've gone to a healer to see if they might help, have you? Perhaps… bottle the memories?"

"You needed a vacation as much as any of us. There's only so much that anyone can do." The briefest flash of a smirk. "But yes, Edwin could use a few words.  He...well, you know how he feels." Aisling set the cup down and pulled her arms in around herself.

"You need good company, good wine and time. Perhaps rattling around here with an elf and a husband who goes at all hours to uphold the law isn't working for you, eh?"

She flinched sharply and looked away. "You sound like Edwin, when you say such things." Her shoulders were shaking now as well, beneath his hands. "Tarron's aunt has been sending howlers again, the sort where she begs him to divorce me. I don't know if she'll ever stop." Her voice was calm, despite her words. Perhaps too calm.

"I am sorry. I just...Tarron's always there, if I need him. He stayed with me after Azkaban, after all. I have no need to be beset from all sides over my best choices." She let her hands fall slowly into her lap, but did not turn back.

"You sound like Edwin, when you say such things."

Monty was surprised, he hadn't meant it like that at all - but it seemed his cajoling and positive words had been a little too jovial. He could feel her shaking, and his hands became lighter on her, giving her space.

"Tarron's aunt has been sending howlers again, the sort where she begs him to divorce me. I don't know if she'll ever stop."

"Its not her business." Monty quickly replied, frown furrowing his brow. "Burn those letters."

"I am sorry. I just...Tarron's always there, if I need him. He stayed with me after Azkaban, after all. I have no need to be beset from all sides over my best choices."

Monty nodded,
"I admire the man, don't get me wrong. I didn't mean he wasn't standing with you, just that, he's got his duties too, and that we're here as well as him. I'm sure he's got thicker skin than to listen to his insane aunt ranting such nonsense, given he sits and listens to that every day in the Ministry courtrooms. He loves you Aisling, any man can see that," Edwin more than most, Monty added silently, having observed the whole group.

"Sorry, I just can't stand to see you like this, not that you should hide it from me. I... I've had two decades to be without my dearest friends, and I am damned if I'll let it be any longer."

"Oh, don't be sorry. I'm far more on edge than I should be, and as you said, you haven't seen me for twenty years. It seems that I needed my friends about more than I thought." Aisling slumped, that momentary flash of thoughts giving way to exhaustion.

She rubbed her hands across her face and sighed. "You'd better not let me escape that night out, now that you've proven how much we could both use one. I can speak to Tarron, see if there's any night that would be preferable." There were always a few nights where it could be expected that cases would keep him late, as opposed to those where it was merely a possibility.

"And I do wish Howlers could just be burned. But they do insist on yelling even as we do so. Perhaps one of these days she will give up." She turned back to Octavius and smiled, though rather weakly. "At least I can hope. Seems that some sort of distraction for her should appear eventually."

"No, no escaping that. We'll launch a rescue attempt otherwise. I have friends, and the Pepper clan is far reaching..." He teased her gently, though in his mind's eye he was visualising her being carried out above the heads of his children, nephews, nieces and extended family including the Hughes. He'd have to illustrate that one day for fun.

"Distraction?" Octavius asked, "They can always be arranged, especially for irritating aunts. Does she have another half? Can we source a nice but dim wizard, or some other horror for her to send howlers to? I should make a piece with howlers, they're just too damned transient - nobody wants one to stick around..." He'd got sidetracked considering it.

"There must be ways to disarm them these days, some unspeakable taskforce must have cracked the stationer's charms by now! I'll send them one to try if not. Get them to practise by sending them lots. Hey, there's an idea for your relative... reckon they can be redirected..."

"A rescue attempt which you would enjoy far too much." Aisling leaned back and smiled, though the shadows under her eyes made her still seem rather tired. "Particularly with how right you are about it. Sometimes it seems as if so much of my time for myself has slipped away behind keeping up appearances and far too much of politics." A sigh.

She held up her hand as he went off about misdirecting Howlers. "She's married, I fear. Think she considers critiquing her family part of her job description. No matter what we do with the Howlers, it won't alter her opinion of me." Another sigh. "As if there's anything I could do to change that. I'm just too stubborn."

The laughter she managed was only a little bitter, and she then turned back to her tea. "Oh, but look at me. It's the drinking that's supposed to turn me maudlin, not the lack of it. Once again proving how much I needed my friends back."

"Once again proving how much I needed my friends back."

Monty's smile grew and he grasped Aisling's hand tenderly from beside her on the sofa. He was glad to be back to fix things and to stand beside her, or at that moment rather - sit. He didn't think anything less of Tarron for what Aisling was feeling, if he could fix it a man like Knight would. All they could do was make it a little easier, so he agreed with Aisling's sentiment wholeheartedly,

"Its good to be back, and I promise we'll raise a glass soon."


End