Sometime close to 2300 hours


They took the tube, which felt felt fitting - and also made sense because Hiraeth Gardens happened to be in muggle London. By the time Virgil and Nemo made their way up to the Reid-Almasy flat, he had shed his jacket and given up on taming his hair. It was a cool night but the underground was stifling. When summer rolled around there would be no question of roughing it the muggle way. Too much sweat? Only acceptable under worthy circumstances.

His good humour elevated itself on the strength of the single glass of red wine as well as the tokes of gillyweed at dinner. He remembered, as he knocked on the door, that Fauna's lady love lived in Hiraeth too. The doll-eyed auror must spend a lot of time here. That gave him warm feelings.

"Anyway," Virgil had kept up the conversation during the short trip, straying back to the subject of fashion... not realising that he was doing all the talking. "That's why I think hats ought to make a comeback. Straw, probably, when it's warmer out. I'm not sure how I feel about wool ones."

The door opened and the blonde wizard's face lit up. "Unicorn girl!" he exclaimed brightly, bowing, as if warning Abby of his slight inebriation. "We're here to let off steam," he borrowed Nemo's words, "like stove kettles."

Nemo had texted ahead to give Abby the head's up that she'd be bringing Virgil with. It reminded her of summers when there was no school and nothing to do, spending dawn to dusk with a friend driving around to nowhere in particular. There had been too few of those days. Now, here, there were more. She was content to let Virgil chatter through his good mood. She worked to absorb it as well. If he was at all unnerved by the strange conclusion to dinner, he didn't show it. Nemo had begun to suspect that it had all been normal for the Carstairs - fancy dinners in a fancy garden, flirtatious guests, proclamations, sisters storming off - and it had been Nemo who'd been out of place.

She could be at peace with that. Not so much with the snatches of cruelty she thought she'd heard from Yavin to Adelaide.

"Hey!" Nemo burst into a grin at seeing Abby far more soberly. When there was space, she went in for a hug and a peck on the cheek.

"We've been on an odyssey," she said as she crossed the threshold. "Managed to avoid the cyclops and Calypso, by sheer luck."

Abby had never been so glad to see her two friends show up at her door for a nice normal evening after their slightly dramatic dinner party. After everything they'd both done for her, she was happy to be that person they dropped in on for gossip and drinks.

It helped that she enjoyed gossip and drinks.

"Ooo, am I Penelope, then," she giggled, hugging Nemo, and giving Virgil her most theatrical curtsy in return. Tipsy lost boy!

"Speaking of the kettle, there is tea. And other drinks. And lots of snacks and probably some leftovers, if either of you are still hungry."

She gestured at the kitchen, and took a seat on one of the floor cushions with her cup of decaf coffee. Be quick, because it was time to tell her everything!

She might have felt a little jealous that she hadn't been invited, except it was Nemo and Virgil, and they were here to tell her what mattered, and she would keep their stories safe.

It was strange though. Nemo had texted that she felt bad for V, but V seemed fine - much better than fine, flitting into the flat on a gillyweed cloud.

It was Nemo that had called it an odyssey.

Abby glanced at Nemo with a raise of her eyebrows, and then lit a candle. For atmosphere.

Virgil, who had not hesitated to use Abby and Raine's kitchen in the past, helped himself to some of the decaf their hostess was also drinking. He left his tiffin here, hoping not to forget it when they left later. The dinner party had been unexpectedly fun but V still had to show up on Mysteries tomorrow morning - the distant call of real life warned him to be moderate in this fantasy of a night.

"Odyssey!" he repeated, careful not to spill anything as he joined Abby on the floor. "Was it really so arduous? 'Twas an odyssey in miniature, fair maiden." Virgil put down the mug to roll up his sleeves and unbutton himself at the collar.

A part of him was very relieved to have already told his family about Cepheus, and he revelled in that feeling. One less thing to worry about - it wasn't fun to keep unnecessary secrets when most of your life was about keeping secrets. He sipped his coffee and allowed the bitterness to sober his elation by just a touch.

"I am glad to reach its end though." Virgil smiled at Nemo, the theatricality melting off his shoulders. "Muggle automobiles are beautiful but it takes a bloody long time, doesn't it?"

Nemo did not partake of Abby and her roommates' sweet or savory fare, well stuffed from the relatively extravagant dinner. Instead she unlaced her shoes to set tidily by the door, then went directly into settling in with Abby in the living room. The youngest of the three then laid on her back and placed her legs on the couch, taking the posture of a fallen chair. She began releasing her hair from the once secure french braids. The metaphors were many in her mind. As she freed her straw colored locks, maybe she looked like Ophelia in the water.

"I missed driving," Nemo responded wistfully. "I didn't think I would. We have to do another road trip and, like, do it at night. There's nothing like it."

She closed her eyes and tried to conjure the sound of cicadas in her mind.

"Have you met V's sister, Abbs?" Nemo asked. She didn't know how long Abby and Virgil had known each other. "She's so pretty."

Abby smiled at Virgil when he settled onto a pillow beside her, looking as relaxed and comfy as Raine's cat curled up on the couch, who'd only lifted her head to sniff Nemo's feet.

Driving took such a long time! It felt like it went fast though, and it was easier on the stomach than floo-ing.

"I want to come with you next time," Abby told Nemo, watching the girl's hair spill over the patterned rug. "I've only ridden in a car a few times, but I can't resist singing along with the ray-dee-oh," she emphasized the word, liking it much better than 'the wireless'.

"And obviously the two of you with your melodic voices wouldn't be able to resist, either."

They'd better sing with her! It wasn't any fun, alone, making up the words and struggling to reach the high and low notes.

Quickly, Nemo brought up Virgil's sister, and Abby wondered if this were the outcast mentioned in her text.

"Adelaide with the pretty 'A' name?" Abby raised her eyebrows at Virgil. "Not officially, but I've seen her around a lot on Level Two, looking serious and focused, her head in a case file. Like your cousin Sol," Abby nudged V's arm gently, careful not to spill his cup of coffee.

The young woman had a gravitas that Abby hadn't seen in the other, more theatrical members of Virgil's family. Virgil called his little brother a 'wretch', his eyes soft, but Adelaide was only 'older sister', who worked as a lawyer on Level Two.[1]

1.	Virgil mentions his siblings in the Cellars of London thread

Driving at night had a novel sound to it, and he smiled into a sip of coffee. He had flown a broom at night but that wasn't quite the same - to roll on endlessly in the dark, as if you were at the bottom of the sea. It would be a new experience, and the two witches perfect company.

Although the drama at dinner had been a distinct low to his day, Virgil didn't expect Nemo to bring up his disapproving sister in a favourable tone. Coming from anyone else he might be affronted.

            "... her head in a case file. Like your cousin Sol," Abby recounted her recognition of Laidie.

"Oh, she's not always so serious. Only like that when she's prodding Two for files," he replied, surprised by the fondness in his own voice. Abby's description made him think of a younger version of his sister - back when she was training, instead of working family law. "Laidie has the most darling singing voice."

The wizard yawned, putting down his mug on the coffee table. "Vast and almost shrill," his words carried through softly as if from a dream. "She could have trained as a dramatic soprano, or even a spinto."

If he closed his eyes, he might imagine her voice as deep and sharp and slicing through the muddled dark towards them. Virgil did not close his eyes, which were resting on Nemo's upside down countenance. He looked up at Abby then, waking from the thought.

"I was telling my family about Cepheus, and Adelaide took it rather badly," the drawling voice returned to put some distance between himself and Laidie. His smile was humourless. "Doesn't like Gamps. Or his age, I imagine."

Virgil didn't want to linger. "But everyone else was perfectly sensible," he added as a clipped afterthought.

Nemo was happy she didn't share the particular bond between Abby and Virgil, the one where they spent all day deep underground in labyrinths of authority and rules and business casual. She'd been to the Ministry of Magic one time and would, if at all possible, never go again. But she smiled for them. She supposed if one had to work there, one would be happy for friendly faces.

And of course, Abby had to go with them next time. Two in the front, one in the back with their arms stretched wide over the back seat. Nemo regretted packing so light when shed come, having left her CDs behind. Her little giggle and nudge against Abby's leg hopefully said all she needed to say, that a trio would be wonderful. Now if only they had a car.

Perhaps Nemo had been provoking Virgil when she'd brought up his sister, but if so, it was only to stir up what he really thought about it all. It wasn't an admirable effort, but it was youthful and girlish and Nemo was both.

"I don't have a sister," Nemo said but not sadly at all. "Or a boyfriend."

Both Virgil and Abby had both.

So, the sister must be the subject of Nemo's text. Virgil did sound fond, and his sister did have a musical side, and of course that was important to someone musical like Virgil, and his musical and theatrical family. Abby knew all about mostly-serious sisters. Overprotective older sisters. She didn't know anything about musically-inclined families, but Abby could rhyme tunelessly for days.

"You told your family," Abby piped up proudly, with a smile at Nemo.

Adelaide wasn't happy about Gamp, emphasis last name, or the age difference, both of which Abby could understand. Still, there was more going on that Virgil didn't feel like talking about and Nemo obviously wanted to talk about. So Abby would talk around it!

"You have us and Mr. Grumps," Abby teased Nemo, glancing meaningfully at the cat, who was napping near her feet on the couch, eyes closed. Due to their text emojis, Nemo should know exactly who Abby was referring to as grumpy cat.

"Was it a big family dinner, V? And is anyone in your family not musically gifted? I dare to ask."

She sipped her coffee and raised her eyebrows.

Okay, so perhaps Nemo was acting much more oddly than he realised. Something at the dinner must have really gotten to her.

            "You told your family," Abby's joy wasn't dampened at any rate.

Virgil grinned at her, tipping his chin in a little head bow. It had been important to him after all - he wasn't loud about his relationships, all of which had been largely casual since he started dating as a teen. Telling his family was Virgil's way of reinforcing the commitment and letting them know he didn't want to fuck it up.

Abby followed Nemo's cue, staying on the subject of the dinner. He suppressed a sigh.

"It was all of us... Edgar," the wizard lifted his hand, counting off. "Angela, Laidie, Nemo, me. And Yavin joined us too. Cecil's at school."

His little brother did not care about his dating life but Virgil would probably mention it in a letter, even if only to give the young Ravenclaw more ammo with which to be annoying at Easter Break.

"I don't think any of us are gifted," he rose his eyebrows back at Abby, shaking his head with dramatic flourish. "Except my father. It's more... if you grow up around people who are always singing and dancing and making music, you can get good at it too. Like a language."

And then, thinking it better to go through rather than around, Virgil pressed on. "Even Yavin can carry a tune," he glanced at Nemo to see if she would react - if it was his mentor who put her in this mood. "On a harmonica, anyway. And he's just an honorary Carstairs."

Yavin. Oh, so it was a game now. The last few seconds' little exchange was full of little subtle trades and takes. Nemo settled in a little more comfortably (a little too comfortably maybe), arching her back a little, stretching her arms and popping the knuckles in her fingers. Maybe she was punchy for the long day, maybe she'd been behaving for several hours, maybe she jealous (perish the thought).

She let her eyes close. Yes, let's do.

"I felt bad for Adelaide," Nemo said in a delicate sing-song. "She was upset but Yavin had to be a, ah, a dick about it."

Nemo was coy with the most careful mimicry of Mr. Morgenthau's distinctive vocal foible, his luxurious hesitations; she deft with a slight flattening of her own American accent to match his, just for a few words letting the rhythm do most of the work of the impression. It wasn't mean to be unflattering, it was mean to show that she could. She pressed on.

"She wasn't expecting it. Maybe she felt left out."

He huffed a laugh at Nemo's impression. It was a passable Yavin - certainly better than the ones he'd heard around the Ministry.

More importantly, the impression was evidence for the source of Nemo's mood. Virgil rather wished his mentor hadn't been at dinner tonight; this could have been avoided. But to linger on such a wish was pointless, so he stretched his legs until they extended underneath Abby's coffee table and shot the squib an apologetic look.

If he'd known Nemo was going to be this way, he wouldn't have saddled their mutual friend with their company.

"They only get along," he explained, forcing a careless tone as he looked back at the young witch, "when they have to. Laidie likes to pick fights with him."

Virgil did in fact feel bad for his sister, and he wondered what Yavin could have said within earshot of Nemo. If it were truly important, the old wizard would have surely told him.

"What did he say to her?" he asked anyway.

Ah, so, hmm, Yavin was the problem! Abby let out a giggle at Nemo's impression, with a quick glance at Virgil's face to make sure he was fine with it. He was. Yavin's ears might be burning somewhere in London, but no more than usual.

Virgil's sister liked to pick fights, according to Virgil. Of course she did. Adelaide was a lawyer, which also meant she expected to win.

Abby kept quiet for now, and took a long sip of her coffee, listening.

"Nothing nice," Nemo said vaguely, but that's as specific as she was able to be truthfully. She'd only heard muted jabs and felt the hairs go up on the back of her neck, that sensation in the spinal column when your worst opinions were confirmed.[1]

Nemo was aware that older, wiser, boyish Virgil was choosing not to sink to her provocation and that began to smooth over her prickles. She wasn't, however, ready to leave the topic.

"When someone storms off from the dinner table," Nemo began, looking up at the texture of the ceiling, "there are exactly two ways to go after them. The first way: to see if they're alright, offer an olive branch. The second way: whatever Yavin did."

Nemo looked for a constellation in the cracks above. There was more, but it was difficult to describe. After all, the only sharp voice she'd heard was Adelaide's. Yavin's had stayed low and even. She had to consider she'd interpreted all of it wrong, that she was siding with Adelaide simply because Adelaide was opposed to Yavin. Nemo had to consider that there was no reason to be picking sides, and that she should be siding with Virgil who seemed utterly unbothered.

Those thoughts in her head, she said this instead: "He told her you're not made of glass."

1.	28 Feb 2012 - Baby, You Can Drive Me

He barely stopped himself from asking Nemo what made her an expert on what to do when people in his family stormed off from their own blody dinner table. Virgil didn't doubt for a second that Yavin was unpleasant to Adelaide but he didn't see how it was her business to interfere in that dynamic.

Anyone else - like Abby or Wav - would have chalked it up to typical family tensions and awkwardness. He wanted to give Nemo the benefit of the doubt; she disliked Yavin, overhearing the exchange was just another toy to bat around in irritation.

Virgil shrugged and played it cool as reached for his mug, glad it was still hot.

            "He told her you're not made of glass."

The mug slipped out of his grasp, inexplicably, and he quickly caught it before it could land with a shatter. A splash of decaf marked the table - coffee dripping down the ledge, on to the rug. He swore under his breath and set the drink down to draw his wand. His face was hot, pink in the cheeks.

"Did he?" Virgil muttered distractedly, and then quickly cast a scouring charm so as not to offend their gracious host. He wanted to say something else but found he had lost all willingness to dance around the subject.

So he pocketed the wand and glanced at Nemo, anxious, pushing aside the curtain of her thoughts to find the memory of what she overhead.

She didn't know anything. Thank fuck.

Virgil sat straighter, drawing his legs up so that he could lean against his knees instead of back against the cushions. "Whatever Yavin said to her is between him and Adelaide, alright?" he didn't sound as carefree as he wished. "She can handle herself. And Yav can be an arsehole but he's not... he's not malicious."

The wizard looked over at Abby, trying to diffuse the conversation. "Right, Abby? He wasn't so bad with -" he gestured, "- the whole pentral thing, was he?"