Aisling had been so excited the first time.  What worries she had, what rumors had been about, they had not overwhelmed her. Then, she'd been able to sleep.

But there was so much more now. The strange, familiar feelings of cold. The memories of her so very young daughters crying. Days spent silent in the garden, barely responding save for when she could see both Tarron and the girls, to know that they were all safe for at least that moment. The fears of how she had been as much as what had been, both intertwining themselves in among the joy whenever she allowed herself to think on such for too long.

She didn't want to navigate through Edwin's bloody feelings on top of everything else. But she still needed to tell him, though she'd much rather have spent the day curled up in bed. So she knocked sharply on his door, then took a slow, deep breath. Her thumb played over the ring on her hand. "Would you have a moment?"

One conversation was something she could manage.

Edwin was adding comments to a draft of new contingency plan for the increase in Muggle ownership of portable telephones with cameras attached, and the possibility that magic could be filmed using them. Thankfully with electricity, things were altogether more fragile and susceptible to magic wiping or breaking them entirely. It had been a lot more risky a while ago when it had all been hand-cranked, though the numbers had been less, far less.

"Of course, come in." He greeted Aisling, recognising her voice. The Department Head looked up properly after speaking and noticed she looked a little anxious. His quill left his hand and curled as it came to rest beside the inkwell.
"Something happened?" Edwin followed his first response, raising an eyebrow and giving her his full attention. If she shut the door after her, then it was personal, if she didn't it was brief and needed his urgent attention.

At least she hadn't interrupted him in a particular mood. This could be difficult enough outside of such factors, at least for her. Aisling closed the door behind her. "Yes, but nothing unpleasant. My skull is still intact, at least." The brief smile did little to hide the hints of exhaustion, of worry, in her face.

She sat down, arms half-exposed beneath her cloak, hands resting together in her lap. "It's good news, but it will be impacting my work. " Her expression was more uncertain than excited, still attempting to process everything. "I'm about six weeks along, so I shouldn't need any adjustments just yet."

She sat up a little straighter, and the cloak slipped back from the movement. "I only just found out this weekend, and I wanted to speak with the Healers before I told you." She watched Edwin carefully, waiting. Wondering.

Door closed, and taking a seat. Edwin sat up properly and composed his face into genuine concern.

"I'm about six weeks along, so I shouldn't need any adjustments just yet."

Edwin's eyebrows rose in surprise, he hadn't realised Aisling and Tarron had wanted any more children. Perhaps he was vastly out of touch, perhaps this wasn't planned. Certainly she didn't seem fantastically pleased about it, just a little, but altogether a little unsure.

"Well," Edwin responded with surprise, sitting back in his chair and exhaling, blinking, "congratulations to you both. What a lovely little surprise for the two of you." Another nail in the coffin, well, he had the likes of Morgana in his sights instead, and he would be happy for Aisling and Tarron, even if he and Tarron didn't see eye to eye.

"Thank you for letting me know, I will, er, keep it under my hat unless you're calling this public news." He shuffled his hands on his desk.
"You will let me know if you do need to take a little time off, or shorten your hours, yes?"

Aisling leaned forward, carefully observing his expression, her hands barely twitching in her lap. "Thank you. I just hope that it's easier than when the girls were born."  Her hands moved just a little, enough to clench her leg too tightly and leave marks that soon faded.

"I don't know when we'll be announcing it. Cannot say that I'm looking forward to being shredded in Witch Weekly. And I'd hate to take too much time off. May come in a little late the fifteenth, though." That, at least, she thought he'd understand. Everything was just so complicated by the past, even this.

A prospect that kept her to her thoughts for a few moments, and then she managed a smile, though still an uncertain one. "Thought that I might, finally, inquire about that chairwitch position. Seems rather the time to begin staying at a desk instead of getting myself knocked about in the field." It was easy for her to not worry about herself, but with this, she could not be quite so casual with her own safety.

"We'll keep it to ourselves." Edwin replied to Aisling's worries of Witch Weekly, and then realised his slip. "I will keep it to myself, sorry." For a moment he felt altogether uncomfortable.

Across the other side of the desk was a new life growing inside one of his oldest friends. He'd seen enough of them grow and appear out of female friends, but he'd never been the one to cause it, and his time had somewhat passed. He'd never have Aisling for a wife, he'd never know what it was like to be a father.

All of a sudden he felt rather melancholy for the news.

"Yes, yes, the chairwitch position. You'd be perfectly suited, even if I'd miss you dearly on the field. You're far better at that game than I am these days, that's for sure."

He frowned a little and looked serious,
"I will recommend you for the post, if that is what you would like? Althea was a wonderful chair when she was here, but you would be a worthy replacement to fill her shoes." Focusing on work at that moment, being the Department Head, not just her friend was making this easier to wrap his head around, which in turn was ridiculous.

"Well," He puffed out his cheeks, "I didn't see this coming, that's for sure."

"I didn't expect it either. Felt too old, even knowing otherwise." Her smile was faint and brief, the sort that spoke to all the adjustments, the tensions of that strange life with two worlds. Two that moved at far different speeds.

Merlin, but it was hard to think of work. Aisling felt exhaustion wash over her, and suddenly nothing sounded quite as appealing as sleep. She tipped her head to the side and lifted one hand to support it. "I would appreciate the recommendation, yes. Thank you. I do not think that I need to be worrying about knocking my head again atop everything else."

She forced herself to push the tiredness aside, to lift her head and lower her hand again. "And it will be something a little new to keep me busy. Fear that I might worry myself into a state of terror if I allow myself too much idleness." There was a smile, and a certain lightness in her tone to accompany it, but both might have sounded just a little off. A little odd.

"Much as I and Tarron would probably both see you resting and taking it easy, we know you well enough to know you'll do the opposite." He agreed with her remarks about going mad if she wasn't busy. "I'll write the recommendation this afternoon, and take it up with Level 1 to approve it. They've been dragging their heels about it a little too long for my liking."

He picked up his quill as if to think about writing it there and then and then cast it aside.

"Well," he said again, looking surprised still, "congratulations to you both, and best of luck with it all." There was an awkward pause, and he got up, stepping aside of his desk and opened his arms.
"You'll be a wonderful mother, yet again," He commanded his voice to convey his genuine sentiment, but it wavered slightly in his throat as he embraced his friend and looked over her shoulder towards the closed door of his office,
"I'm so very happy for you."

It was good to have that support, no matter what else. To have it despite everything around and between him. Aisling leaned into his embrace, too tired for anything else.

"Wonderful? I was barely there, I...." Her shoulders shook first, then the rest of her body. It had only been a few months in Azkaban, but the impact had been so much longer. Months and years where she would pull back and lock herself away, as she had in there. What she had done to hold onto that core of herself. And yet Tarron had stayed.

There was a rare dampness around her eyes, smudging away her makeup, showing all the lines she kept hidden for the sake of politics. "Can't do that again, can't be lost, not now." Once had been enough for her lifetime, far more than enough.

Edwin's brow lowered in dismay at Aisling's words about being barely there, and he wrapped his arms a little more around her, taking her weight and standing steady.

"You won't get lost this time, I promise." He assured her from over her shoulder, and rubbed her back with one hand in reassurance.
"Because this time we're all here, and it's peacetime, and we're older and wiser." He let out a slight sigh, resisting the temptation to take advantage of this situation, even though every inch of him wanted to take care of this wonderful woman.

"And you've never been stronger." He added, and patted her back.

Edwin felt warm. His hands, his shoulder, warm and human in a way that nothing had been within that place. And that was what proved him right. This was a far different time, and perhaps she wouldn't shatter along all those old fractures. "Thank you."

She lifted her head and pulled back just enough to look her old friend in the eye and smile. "I don't know what I'd do without all of you." Tarron had been a pillar through all of this, and her greatest support, but not the only one. She couldn't stand the thought of laying all of this upon him.

There was still a wet spot on her cheek, and she lifted a hand to brush it away. "I'd best get back to work, though. Let you handle that paperwork. We'll have to drag Octavius off sometime soon, even if I do have to pass on the drinks."  That'd be good, just to chat with them, to rest away from certain expectations.

"Probably drink less, worry less and be in more trouble?" Edwin asked quietly and his hands squeezed her body gently.

"Yes, I suppose I better get back to things... Octavius - er, yes, I've been meaning to sort something, perhaps I should have you both over for lunch, that might be easier. All his children are at school again or working, so we should take the opportunity, well, before you've another in tow at home for the next decade."

He smiled, drew her into one last hug and kissed her cheek.
"It's wonderful news, please enjoy it, and my door is always open, not just as a friend, but in my official capacity." He assured her, letting Aisling go and lowering his head respectfully as they parted.

"Drinking less, certainly." The thought of that brought a curt laugh, there were a lot of memories around that. Most of which involved late nights and games that she didn't play that much any longer. Though they still had the occasional night out.

"And I think we would both enjoy lunch. It's been a very long time for him since we last did so." Twenty years away, it was difficult to conceive of. And meant that there was so much to make up for.

She forced herself to straighten up, and brushed a careful hand across her face to remove any smudges. "And thank you again. It's so much easier knowing that I won't have to worry too much about matters here." There'd be enough other matters to worry about. She bowed her head in return, relief evident in her expression. "I will let you know if anything comes up." Something inevitably would. That was the way of things.

End