It was far too late. Late enough that Aisling wouldn't get the sleep she needed, late enough that Tarron was probably worried, especially since she hadn't had the time to send him an owl amid all the fuss.

She stumbled into the entrance hall from the floo, and nearly collided with the low table before she collapsed into one of the chairs. Her hair had begun to come undone, and long strands had fallen forward to frame her face. There were smudges on her cloak, and she kicked her heels off with some force before gingerly setting her feet on the tiled floor.

"Krix," she said. The House Elf had managed to appear near-instantly upon her arrival. "Can you find some food. And tell Tarron...." She slumped forward and rested her head on her hands rather than finishing the sentence. Octavius wouldn't be easily forgiven for this. He'd just had to do it a week before Valentine's. The one time where she could barely hold herself together and he'd created a massive disaster for her to handle in the midst of it.

She pressed her feet against the floor until they hurt again.

Tarron's own day had been mundane. Painfully so, in the way only the Chief Warlock's was - a day of little being accomplished but far too many owls swarming his office. Their talons gripped petty complaints, questions, demands and - very rarely - genuinely important items of news of correspondence. After a few hours he welcomed none of those.

Early in his career he had attempted to read all of the letters that came past him, but that had proved fruitless and frustrating. A waste of time for all participants, really.

He really ought to hire a private secretary one of these days, he mused; those of the Wizengamot were too afraid to accidently throw away important documents. He could use someone loyal, who followed only his agenda - and hopefully someone who was cynical and jaded enough to not feel bad throwing such letters away.

It was just as he uncovered a letter from Cullodena - Merlin's pants, that woman and her bloody letters  - that Krix entered the office with a pop, looking a bit on edge. Tarron acknowledged the elf with a raised eyebrow.

"Mistress wished you sent for," the elf said, and it was then that Tarron looked at the clock for the first time in several hours. He hadn't realized how late it was, as accustomed as he was to Aisling's arrival signaling the end of the work day.

It was odd she had not come directly to the office, and he stood with a frown. "Tell her I am on my way, then," he said, and walked to the door as the elf popped back to the front room.

He emerged from the hallway to find Aisling rather a mess, slumped on an armchair. He scowled, walking to her side with his almost military stride.

"Merlin's beard, woman. What's happened?"

It was good to see him, even though Aisling had the energy for little more than turning her head towards Tarron when he appeared. There was an ache in her stomach, and it seemed that whatever willpower had kept her going up until this point had fled.

"Octavius wanted to make one of his points," she said, too tired to put any ire behind the words. "Flying cars this time, and with how many Muggles saw it we'll be cleaning up for a month." She pushed at one of the shoes she'd just kicked of with her toes.

Then she looked down. "And then him and Edwin went at it and well, I missed lunch." That and just about everything else she'd been intending to do that day. Now she just hoped she'd stay awake long enough to eat something.

Tarron's lips pressed into a line so thin and even one could have easily used it as a ruler, his mustache bristling in response. While his wife's office did rather have a reputation for...well, incidents of a bumbling nature, she never seemed to have a relaxing day at the office. Ever.

Of course, that could merely be his perspective, which made anything that involved Edwin Glass automatically into a strange sort of emotional and professional minefield. But nonetheless.

"Did he, now," he said, the sentence a question but not the inflection. He snapped his fingers and Krix appeared with another loud pop, ears perked up. He looked at the house elf, who looked at his expression and audibly swallowed.

"Do get Mistress her tea, Krix." His tone was glacial and clipped. He was very clearly not in the slightest bit amused.
"And what point did he feel such a car would make?" He asked, walking around the chairs to stand by the fireplace.

"Could you get something for my feet as well, Krix?" A bit of warm water sounded wonderful, perhaps it would calm a bit of the pain.

Krix nodded, seeming a bit less tense at Aisling's request. Though still nervous, certainly, and the house elf quickly apparated away with another popping sound.

Aisling sighed. Octavius was an old friend, and a good one, and yet here he'd gone causing such troubles and at Edwin's expense. "He seemed to hope that the Prophet and Wireless would pick up on his antics. And they likely will, though I'll have to see what impact I can have there."

She groaned softly and rolled her head back. "He was over in the United States and such vehicles are legal there. Might  be...I don't know. Edwin nearly knocked me over trying to get at Octavius after it happened." By this point she'd moved to being too tired to be truly upset, even over such a convoluted mess.

If what Octavius wanted was notoriety, Tarron silently felt that he could accomplish that just as well by walking into the office of the Minister and dropping his trousers. The legal ramifications for either would likely be about equal in their harshness.

"And he did this by enchanting Glass's car, did he?" Tarron rarely referred to Edwin by his first name, especially when annoyed. And annoyed he was; the line of his lips seemed to compress even more and then turn downwards into a scowl as she revealed Edwin's own actions. Enraged out not, there were things one did not do.

"I see," he said, tone clipped and cold. Edwin was likely at home at this hour, wasn't he? No doubt the fool had slunk back to his house to sulk. It seemed his way.

"Do drink some tea and put your feet up, dear," he said, tone slightly warmer - but not by a lot. He looked towards the door, and adjusted his collar with a sharp tug. "I have some business to conduct at the Ministry."

Aisling nodded slightly to Tarron's questions, too tired to think much on it. "Don't be gone too long, please. We've had so little time to ourselves today." And now that she was home she could acknowledge how much she missed him when he was gone. It was all far too quiet around Moonmoth these last few months.

"And I'll take care of myself, I promise. I hope to be feeling a bit better by the time you're home." It was then when Krix reappeared, holding a tray of tea and foodstuffs. Enough to take the edge off Aisling's hunger, at the least.

Perhaps if she had been in a better state of mind she would have been just a bit more suspicious of Tarron's rushing away.

End