I know there'll be at least Gabrielle here, though I'm hoping to persuade a few other ladies. If you think you'd know these ones, send me a PM and we'll pretend you were here all along

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"Can't be dead already?" Camille protested, upturning the red wine bottle. The conversation between them had been flowing steadily for the past hour. She had kicked off her shoes to curl on one end of the sofa with her bare feet tucked beneath her long skirt, wine glass cradled in one hand.

It was a Saturday evening in late August, and several things were all happening at once. First of all, she had heard back from Hogwarts that she was accepted to teach Arithmancy from September, which was a huge triumph - job security, a regular income, and in dire circumstances, somewhere to live if it came to it. Secondly, she was reconnecting with Gabrielle, who she hadn't seen in far too many years, so she was hearing all sorts of different perspectives on both her son and on her cousin - now colleague. Thirdly, her husband was still very much contained at St Mungo's with all the hell that came with it, his injuries were slow to heal, and his realisation that he was going straight into custody and before the wizengamot was slowing things further. It would be his first transformation the following week, and she needed to distract herself.

Camille hadn't anticipated to be back at Ignan's house in Godric's Hollow after they had been grumpily evicted in June, but with no income, and the disruption of the investigation over the werewolf attack, her income had hit rock bottom. Ignan had quietly arranged payment for the bedsit in Knockturn Alley until her first Hogwarts payday to tide her over. With Mira very much in his life, he was keen to keep his house without guests, and Camille respected this. She would pay him back as soon as she could. To have temporarily evicted him from his own front room felt awkward at first, but the time with fellow witches, and to talk to Gabrielle was Merlin-sent. She had felt so very isolated since arriving in the country.

Gerda, Ignan's house elf had arrived with another bottle, cork removed.
"Oh you are a good elf, Gerda." She told the large eared, wide eyed creature as it poured. "You will make sure your master has a bottle, won't you?" She let the elf make its way round to pour more wine as she sipped her own and played absentmindedly with her long bead necklace. "Wine fixes everything. For a while." She sighed, "Do you like this one?" Camille asked, looking to Gabrielle.

It fixed it all right, especially when it helped dull any sensations of pain, agony, so on and so forth. However, spending time (much like how Camille felt) with other witches opposed to being absolutely absorbed into one's work made the wine taste sweeter, didn't it? Swirling the contents, Gabrielle took a drink, pausing a moment to reflect on the notes this bottle produced. Eyeing the label, she smiled. "Not a bad year for 2000. Ignan has excellent taste, though as if we really expected anything less," came the remark, knowing her cousin could feel a little more pride if he were listening in on these conversation.

Following Camille's lead, her own shoes were kicked underneath, revealing her own pair of feet. Grinning, Gabrielle kept an eye on her hostess, soon reaching down for another crostini, plopping it into her mouth, sighing in a positive affirmation. "That all said, any new news for you, Ms. Duerr? I'm interested to see what's going on in a positive light nowadays in the admist of rough times," Gabrielle pressed, smiling comfortingly towards Camille.

Merlin knew the woman needed it.

"... though as if we really expected anything less,"
"Quite!" Camille promptly replied, raising her newly filled glass before her blushed cheeks.

"... any new news for you, Ms. Duerr?..."

"That makes me feel young to be called that again," Camille laughed to herself, "but from September my dear, you will be able to call me Professor Duerr." She was excited to break the news to Gabrielle, who was well aware she had applied to Hogwarts to fill the post. Gabrielle had been another voice to the suggestion that using her maiden name in the circumstances would help quite considerably - distancing herself from any issues with her husband's trial, and allowing Ignan to maintain his identity with the family name. The more everything went on, the less of a Storm she felt she was, now outside of her husband's shadow.

"I'm not sure whether to be excited or nervous, if I'm honest, Gabrielle," she explained in a lower voice, inclining towards her relative, "I mean, I've taught plenty of late teenagers, but the younger ones... it's been a long time since Johann was that age. I hope I haven't lost my touch." She gave a shrug. "At least I'm not teaching the very little ones," she extended a hand as if to indicate height, but due to her recline on the sofa it was a few feet short, "from the third year, so they will know the routine. Well, you probably know better than me, my dear. What with your step-children." Camille raised her eyebrows, knowing this wasn't technically the correct word, but she liked to refer to the Pepper children as such because it was a certainty!

"Why hasn't that wizard asked you yet, dear me, how can he keep you waiting?" She teased.

Professor Duerr?

Gabrielle beamed in proud admiration. "Congratulations! You deserve such a worthy position, Cam--" A pause as the cogs in her own brain thought momentarily of calling her Duerr, cousin, anything but Camille due to the proper respect elders often deserved. However-- "Camille. After all, you're beyond capable with numbers and you've a cheery disposition that I recalled fondly as a child." Mm, childhood and only mere moments of remembering in meeting Wolfgang and Camille as a wee thing. "As for the students, my dear cousin? They'll come to like you, I'm sure. Your smile -- (she lowered her voice) whether it be warm or smirking like someone else here (a snicker left her lips before raising the tone back to normal), can be the deciding factor. Just don't let them push you 'round. Stand firm. After all, I learned that shortly when I became the department head at the Ministry."

Rising her lips to the goblet again, smiling as it were at the mentioning of stepchildren, Gabrielle gave no inclination of being bothered by Camille's suggested titles to Ambrose and Timothy. The boys would always be Catherine's, but in her own ways, Gabrielle was in love with them all the same. This said, the mentioning of a proposal caused the witch to snort, choking in brief surprise by Camille's inquiry. Clearing the choke with another drink of wine, Gabrielle licked her lips before speaking, collecting all her thoughts.

"Yes, about that. I honestly haven't heard one way or another about the situation from Francis. He keeps busier than I ever intend to, but being a master of time is a hefty responsibility." She smiled, almost with a clear face that said she was recalling the first go around. "If he were to propose again -- after all, I did muck that up rather royally the first time, I would accept. After all, my great grandmother in her wizened age gave the wisdom it wouldn't be me to decide in that matter should we ever try again. I love him immensely, perhaps more than I used to." Gabrielle smiled. "And I'm glad."

For sixteen hours Miranda had been at St Mungo’s. With each day that passed it felt like she was spending more and more of her life there. For Elliot it had never been just a job but now she was wondering if she was ever going to be able to shut the door on the hospital and come home after a sensible amount of time, have a sensible amount of sleep and not think about her work for at least a few hours. To say she was overwhelmed by her new promotion would have been an understatement and today the healer was feeling it more than ever.

The piles of parchment to read, fill in and send off had practically reached the ceiling when she’d arrived in the early hours and still she’d only tackled a quarter of it today. Instead she’d been rushing around helping where they’d been understaffed, dedicating her time to the spell damage ward and victims of dementor attacks.

Now was she fell through the fireplace in Ignan’s kitchen, covered in soot, her brain was fried. Without even noticing the elf who stared in its normal disapproving way, Miranda dropped herself into a seat, kicked her heels off and began to light up a cigarette. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, revelling in a moment of peace.

“Master has guests tonight, Miss Miranda.” The elf piped up and Mira’s eyes shot open. The little elf, as if now used to Miranda’s return from work, summoned a wineglass and began to fill it before placing it in front of the healer.

“Skrewts. I’d forgotten.” Ignan had mentioned it to her, he’d briefly explained his cousin’s situation while Mira had been distracted by something or other. She’d simply mentioned she’d probably be at the hospital anyway so it was not skin off her nose. But now she was there and two witches who she barely knew were sat in the living room drinking wine and enjoying themselves. Miranda didn’t have the energy or inclination to join them.

People had a habit of calling Miranda Elliot rude. And that was for good reason. She considered this for a moment while enjoying the cigarette before rising, wine glass in hand and pacing towards the living room door.

The door was pushed open just as one witch was talking and Miranda remained in the doorframe as she spoke, voice tired and lilted by her strong accent.
“Love can make a witch weak. As can marriage.”

Gabrielle was very gracious in her congratulations, and reassured her well on the students. Her fingers knotted together as she spoke of it, outwardly representing her internal worries about it.

"… Stand firm. After all, I learned that shortly when I became the Department Head at the Ministry." Camille nodded earnestly and uttered thanks. She admired Gabrielle terribly for commanding a whole Department - and a very important one at that, down in London. She had a lot to thank Gabrielle for, what with giving Johann a job so soon, and taking him in. She looked forward to finally getting to know her.

When Gabrielle spoke of Francis, her whole face lit up. Camille recognised the look of love in the other woman, and felt very glad for her. She deserved a good lover, a happy family.
"I love him immensely, perhaps more than I used to, and I'm glad." Camille reached a hand out to Gabrielle's arm, about to utter how glad she was and happy for her, when there was movement by the kitchen.

"Love can make a witch weak. As can marriage."

Miranda was ever the pragmatic one. Camille could see why Ignan liked her, neither of them engaged in nonsense and were good in a crisis. She had not met the other witch in good circumstances, Mira had been commanding healers to try and save her husband's leg after the werewolf bite. She had no time for hysterics.

In calmer times, she had briefly met her while calling on Ignan, or in passing at the hospital, and had wondered if the other woman didn't like her, until Ignan had described his lover's dedication to her job, and it had been rather obvious.

"Quite without us realising." She agreed, reflecting on her recent independence and situation. "Won't you join us, Miranda?" Her ears picked up the tired lilt to the witch's voice, and she turned a little more to regard her properly, "Though quite understand if not, Ignan said you were at work." She glanced back to Gabrielle and to Miranda, "You've met Gabrielle, haven't you?"

The meeting was going well enough, the conversation practically perfect -- that was until the interruption from Miranda came along. Yes, love was capable of blindsiding an individual and yes, marriage could ruin a sturdy witch. However, love in a sturdy foundation could make a relationship shine. After all, hadn't Mina and Vlad been a struggling foundation as had Merik and Amelia? And yet, the Murray daughters had their parents who had given their daughters, their son and their respective families adoration, praise?

"We have in fact, albeit in passing, Camille. A pleasure to see you again, Healer Elliot. As Camille has mentioned, you're more than welcome to join us, but if not, it's completely understandable," Gabrielle mentioned in a tone that perhaps sounded a bit more darker than normal. That said, she was ruffled slightly, but Miranda was not going to ruin this soiree. No sir.

One witch seemed welcoming for Miranda to join, the other not so. With further study of this previously unrecognised witch, Miranda remembered where she’d seen her before. She was the department head for International Magical Cooperation. She was a figure head in the Triwizard Tournament while Elliot had been here with Durmstrang before returning to St Mungo’s to resume a career she was far more suited to. Ignan had mentioned the witches coming to sit in his living room and drink but the second name hadn’t sunk in.

“Perhaps for a short while.” Miranda gave a small smile to both witches and stepped further into the living room that two months before had been bare and unhomely. It had been satisfying helping the wizard make it more like a home, especially considering Miranda had been practically pushed out of her own by her daughter’s new little family taking up residence during her absence. Ignan’s home had therefore very nearly become hers.

With the large armchair next to the fireplace available, Mira took this for her own and relaxed into it. She’d spent hours here reading when she’d struggled to sleep. Keeping odd hours had always been difficult. And now as soon as she sank into the cushioned seat, she found herself struggling. Too tired to consider any small talk for two witches she barely knew.
“Is he hiding or out?” Elliot couldn’t remember what he’d told her now. She really needed to listen better.

Miranda seemed to weigh up her possibilities, and Camille was glad when she agreed to join them for a little while, taking Ignan's armchair. Even without seeing the wizard in it, it was recognisably his domain with the stack of books, newspapers and journals in a pile amongst a relatively tidy room. It was a lot more homely than when she'd first stepped foot in it.

"Is he hiding or out?"

Camille pointed above them, though really it was not quite above them.
"He's upstairs, planning lessons. I think he reckoned we'd gang up on him." She shuffled herself into the sofa cushions and glanced to Gabrielle, "We'd never do that, would we?"

She gave a smile and raised her eyebrows. Of course they would, they'd talk about decades past, of weddings, of silly family members and children, all things Ignan hadn't experienced from his own perspective.

"You must be doing something good to him, Miranda," Camille explained, raising her glass to the Head Healer, "Takes a woman to pin down a Storm man at the best of times, but…" She glanced to Gabrielle and giggled, already somewhat inebriated. "Well done you." She toasted Mira again and reached forward to put her glass down, thinking it was probably time to take a little break in drinking before she said something silly.

Sitting in a room she was usually so comfortable in with two witches she barely knew was uncomfortable. Both knew each other well. They both were well acquainted with Ignan and Miranda found herself wondering exactly how well they knew the wizard she’d became rather close to. Madam Murray certainly didn’t seem impressed at the intrusion of the healer, after all. She would have to deal with it. Miranda pretty much lived there!

Imagining Ignan being ganged up on was a bit too much of a push for Miranda who only saw a strong and powerful wizard who never seemed to be intimidated. She’d only presumed he would be hiding to avoid socialisation for the simple reason that he didn’t enjoy it. That was something the both of them had in common. Miranda was exceptionally picky in who she spent her spare time with.

"Takes a woman to pin down a Storm man at the best of times, but…"

Studying Camille, Mira’s eyebrows raised waiting for what the witch was alluding to. She knew.
“He’s still a grumpy bastard, Camille.” She responded briskly before offering the witch a tight smile. “Not one to be pinned down.”

Certainly feeling quite uncomfortable talking about her own relationship, Mira turned her gaze on Murray as she took a sip of wine.
“I expect you’re rather more relaxed now the tournament has concluded, Madam Murray. It was quite the feat to pull off.”

Gabrielle snorted (yes, snorted) to hold back a laugh that'd likely make it up to Ignan's ears about ganging up on him. "If we even tried to gang up on Ignan, he'd have us blocked away with a shield charm or such." Gabrielle grinned still yet, disregarding how Ignan might take it. "That said, I do recall him being an excellent dancer, even as I was a young thing twice over when we did so, if you ever can convince him to do so, Ms. Elliot."

Drinking from her glass, Gabrielle continued to listen between the other two, soon offering a grateful smile to Miranda's compliments about the tournament. "Thank you very kindly, and I do mean that. It wasn't a walk in the park and no one in their right mind would think otherwise. That said, I know our Ministry and Hogwarts are grateful what was accomplished and for it, that we've solidified bonds with the other schools, Ministries in the long run." Smiling with a gentle affirming nod, Gabrielle looked to Camille, amused perhaps a little how her cousin was reacting.

"Are you going to be able to continue on conversation? You look pleased as punch currently."

“He’s still a grumpy bastard, Camille. Not one to be pinned down.” Mira clarified and Camille found amusement in the description and nodded as she chuckled.
"I don't think he's ever been anything but one of those." She agreed. People said the same about Wolfgang. He could be pretty terse with other people, but until recently had always been loving towards her.

Mira and Gabrielle exchanged compliments over the Tetrawizard Tournament, and Camille rolled her eyes.
"Are you going to be able to continue on conversation? You look pleased as punch currently." Gabrielle asked.

"Merlin, I didn't hear the end of that bloody tournament the other year. Honestly, I am glad it is over and I didn't go near it." The comment was fuelled by wine, and rather more brash than Camille might normally have uttered, forgetting herself a moment.

"But the Americans won didn't they? And four more years before we suffer it again."

Gabrielle Murray continued with stiff politeness and Camille Storm appeared to be gaining in confidence, losing her inhibitions as the wine made an influence. Most people needed wine to be so brazen. Miranda was quite capable of speaking her mind without the need for inebriation.  She had, however, ended up with Ignan and therefore, in his home with these two witches, as a cause of wine.

Nonetheless, Camille’s honesty caused an amused smirk to twist Mira’s lips as she gripped her wine glass. As much as it felt right to remain here and be sociable, to get to know her lover’s family, the exhaustion was catching up with the witch who found herself slumping further into Ignan’s chair. It looked better to remain here but the wizard upstairs in his study was far preferred company. The empty bed upstairs waiting for her to collapse into was far more inviting than the chair that was swallowing her presently.

A yawn was covered by her spare hand and Mira shook her head. She needed to get up before she made a show of herself by passing out in the chair with a wine glass in hand. She leaned forward, placing it on the table and pushed herself up from the chair.

“Don’t let me interrupt you any further.” She muttered, crossing her arms over her stomach. From the reception she’d had from Murray, her departure would be appreciated. Mira was more than okay with that.
“It’s been a long day.” A small smile was offered to Camille before she nodded to Gabrielle. Every day was a long day for a witch perhaps too obsessed with work. “Have a good evening.”

A moment later she was heading up the stairs to greet and bid goodnight to the house’s owner.

"Goodnight!" Camille called after Mira.  Though it was a shame the witch didn't want to linger, though she understood she worked hard. Even the small amount she had socialised was pleasant. If her relationship with Ignan prevailed through the new term, she didn't doubt that the two of them would spend more time together. Solidarity in women with Storm men.

"I think she's a good match for Ignan, you know?" She said in a low voice to Gabrielle once Mira's footsteps could be heard upstairs. Camille's ears picked out her route to Ignan's little study at the back of the house overlooking the back garden.

"Do you not like her?"

More than a good match, Gabrielle mused inwardly, drinking her wine quietly as to avoid a rather erroneous confrontation. Her temper versus Miranda's words about love, marriage and the like seemed to have only grated the positivity Gabrielle had moments before. "Mm," was the beginning response, downing the rest of the goblet, refilling it a moment later, not honestly looking to her cousin for a few more seconds, opting to listen as to where Miranda ended up when once upstairs. Looking then to Camille, she smiled with that plastic expression she dreaded.

"I suppose I could come to like her, but you know. It's been a long road to travel to get back to where I am happy with the man I love. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion about the matter, but in the end, it stung me, Camille. I mean, I had to resign myself to the fact that I had ruined a marriage proposal and it's taken me how long to garner his good graces again? Forbid something horrific were to tear us apart once more. I would hate to lose him a second time."