Around 7.30pm


He dusted his knees off, rising from the hearth in which a nice low fire was beginning to bloom.

The apartment[1] was taking shape - Robin had pushed himself to finally unpack and hang up a few of the no-maj cinema prints his mother sent from Victoria when she heard he'd finally found a place. Prints from his childhood bedroom - she was clearing it out for guests.

Creature from the Black Lagoon and Bride of Frankenstein framed either side of the mantle, on which rested a menagerie of tiny wooden animals he had carved himself. Deep mahogany, honeyed oakwood. An unfinished fox of red cedar. Robin had taken to whittling as a hobby for years, an easy one for a wizard to bring along on travels.

Who would have thought they would settle down, of all places, in London?

Checking a Georgian clock above the figures, he made his way to the kitchen to study the beef bourguignon simmering away - simple one-pot recipes were a Robin Louvelle staple.

His kitchen, tucked next to the entrance, was part of an open concept living. On the end closest to the front door was a fireplace with its armchair, bookshelves, fainting couch. A banjo leaning against the wall. Along from this was his most recently acquired piece - one of those small tables that folded out into a large round one when tapped with a wand. It was set with plain china, mismatched cutlery, drinkware and wine.

No chairs.

Farthest away, next to a passage that led to bedrooms: a worn out sofa and a smattering of floor cushions over layered rugs. Liquor bottles were arranged on a battered coffee table; decent firewhiskey and the untouched cognac his father had sent him. Vinyl records[2] leaned against a portable gramophone.

It wasn't quite complete. Robin only bought vintage and antiques; it would take years to fully furnish, taking into account money and taste.

The first knock of the night came just as he was opening a bit of wine to let it breathe. His first bona fide  guests[3] were arriving.

1.	Floorplan!
2.	Robin's music vibe
3.	30th Oct - Bird in Your Ear

He could tell his sister was judging him for his choice of item to transfigure into a chair.

“I… have a lot of umbrellas…” He told her meekly as they climbed up to the third floor, “and he told us to bring something to sit on.”

Cepheus[1] had only met Robin Louvelle at the solidarity march in Diagon Alley, but heard more of him through friends and acquaintances since. Tia in particular had spoken highly of him, through her role in the werewolf wing, and if Tia liked someone, then Ceph and Andie were far more likely to as well.

They were climbing stairs because they were hideously punctual. Being on time was Ceph’s first idea, and his first ideas were often not as good as his second ideas which was in this case to kill a little more time with a leisurely stroll up the Hiraeth stairs. They knew quite a few people who lived here.

Moments later they’d reach peak awkward lingering for Ceph who knocked on the door to Robin’s address. At the same time, there was a ting of a lift further down the hallway, and he glanced that way, hoping it was someone they knew before the door opened.

1.	Dressed by Nuri back in polyvore days

Clink, clink, clink.

Jules had kept his word and brought a sizeable box of the Tinworth local brew Mineshaft with him to Robin’s. He carried the cardboard box awkwardly under one arm and fussed his straggly hair with his free hand before stepping out of the lift.

He was quite looking forward to this evening, even though his beloved Daisy hadn’t been able to come after all. Something was afoot and the team needed their coach for a conflab. As such their youngest was safely supervised by her maternal grandparents once more, and undoubtedly was being spoiled as he sauntered down the hallway towards the Gamps.

“Evenin’ alllll,” he called brightly, putting a little jig into his last few strides towards the door. He slid between them both and chuckled. “Gamp sandwich!” He might have had one or two Mineshafts of his own before he’d come out. Wanted to be sure it still tasted as good, especially if Bruce and Zora would be critiquing it.

The door opened.

“Robiiiiin!” Jules greeted, throwing his arm up and out for a hug, the beer still tucked under his other one. He smelled of leather from his jacket and geranium (one of the scents Daisy had bought him last Christmas). “How’re you doing, mate?” They did the whole pivoting on the spot while Robin kept the door open and Jules slipped inside before the Gamps.

“Evening,” Cepheus greeted politely, “This is Andromeda, my sister,” he gestured at the auror with his wrapped gift. “Oh, and a housewarming gift,” He extended the neatly wrapped set of teas, which he had figured was both homely and distinctly British to gift.

Three, where he expected just the one or two at his doorstep! A fortuitous number.

"Jules!" he exclaimed, mirroring the motion as he clasped the other man in an enthusiastic hug. "Just on time, was about to pour out some of the red stuff. Daisy off saving the quidditch world, I assume?"

Robin closed the door and gestured at the island separating kitchen from living area. "Unload your boozy burdens if you like."

It was a relief that Jules Abbott was among the first tonight. Whether intentional or not, his familiar presence would ease Robin's awkwardness in meeting again those wixes who weren't quite yet friends.

"Cepheus," he clapped a hand on the slight wizard's shoulder, knee-jerk reaction to such English politeness and fine clothes. "Glad you could come! Please, make yourselves comfortable, I'm just making sure the food's fit for eating."

There was something winsome about entertaining siblings. Both dark-haired and striking, like rooks in the eaves. It made them mysterious without them even having to try, he suspected.

"Thanks," Robin accepted the gift from Andromeda as he made his way around the island and back into the kitchen side. "You two named for Greek myths or heavenly bodies?"

Elixa had been teasing him the whole evening about his choice of wardrobe this night. Arcturus, wearer of hoodies, had tended towards being a little less like a college-aged teen in the past months and while he wasn't about to credit his choice of hobby with it she wasn't going to let him get away with it either. He was wearing an unbuttoned collared navy dress shirt with a grey blazer over it, dark grey scarf wrapped loosely about his neck and equally dark grey jeans. The unbuttoned collar might have had something to do with the glossy deep blue pendant that rested between his collarbone upon which white and cyan circles had been painted upon and a black dot in its centre.

They'd arrived on the doorstep with arms hooked; Arcturus had no idea where Hiraeth Gardens was and if he had been there before he hardly recalled a thing about it. If Elixa hadn't known either, she had the intuition to figure it out over him - directions weren't exactly always his strong suit when it came to London in general.

For chairs admittedly he had had no idea what to bring. That he left to Elixa after his initial idea of bringing cushions to transfigure would end up in incredibly floppy chairs on his part and he was largely at a loss. She had all the good ideas. This was why she could decorate their flat in Diagon far better than he did.

Heading up the stairs, they were about five minutes apart from Robin's last guests and thus saw no one as they came in. Arcturus pondered over the need for his housewarming gift - a Sounding Hourglass[1] - and he had brought pomegranates as he had promised.

1.	Sounding Hourglass on the Lexicon

“He did say bring our own chair. Didn’t specify the design or size.” Iona told her wife with a shrug as they arrived at their destination, Zora carrying a bag with their rather large choice of seating shrunken inside. Iona? She carried her cane and another bag with several not shrunken bottles of wine and beer. Several filled the bag for two possible reasons. The party might be really good or really bad. Alcohol was needed in both instances.

Iona, otherwise known to most as Bruce, had dressed a little bit less ‘Bruce’ for the occasion. She’d opted for one of her only pairs of jeans, a baggy plaid shirt and a leather jacket. Her hair hadn’t been tamed for the occasion, and had instead been let loose to do what it did where it wanted to do it. In her hand, as usual, was the ornately carved cane with the handle in the shape of a wolf’s head.
On the door, she knocked several times with the cane and waited.

“Are we late?” Bruce asked when the door was opened by the giant of a wizard. Blue eyes looked up and she smiled. “The missus took an age picking out which sunglasses would look the most mysterious.” Jokes. None looked mysterious. Iona grinned sidewards at her wife. “My badass auror witch, Zora. Zora, Robin.” They’d met briefly, Iona had been reminded when sober. In September, Robin had given the drunken witch a piggy back to her flat. He’d climbed all those stairs with her on his back, singing songs about flobberworms making friends. Impressive, really.

“Splinters!” She spotted him past Robin. Cepheus Gamp, the fence straddler. Oh goodie, they’d be parking their sofa right next to his fence at the dinner table.

Before either brother or sister could respond, there came another knock at the door. Punctuality! That shouldn't surprise him here, where the trains ran on time and people spoke affectionately of a very large clock in Westminster.

"Hold that thought," Robin deposited the first of the evening's gifts in the kitchen and went to answer the door like the good host he was trying to be.

Healer Hollingbury cleaned up surprisingly well in navy and greys; proving it was nobody's fault that St.Mungo's dressed their people in a universally unflattering shade. With him was Mordent, who Robin had the pleasure of seeing around the hospital.

"Speaking of greek myths and heavenly bodies," he grinned as he let them in and shut the door. "Thanks for coming! Let me help you with that? Pomegranates, yeah? I got a pavlova especially for 'em."

Robin gestured to the open space of the living room, taking the proffered fruit into the kitchen. "You guys all know each other? I keep thinking everyone does, this side of the pond. Was just asking Cepheus and Andromeda here about their names."

A question that, it seemed, would never get answered.

The last of his guests knocked several times and Robin exchanged a laughing look with Jules. "I'm the newest whorehouse in the west," he announced to nobody in particular, on his way back to the door, "and the salon doors keep swinging."

Bruce Ballentyne was a welcome sight. Her and Jules combined were unstoppable; he was relying on them to help see him through the awkwardness of dining with relative strangers. Well. Them and all the alcohol. There was gillyweed too, though he never got around to asking if the cool auror would be cool about that.

"Just on time! Make yourselves at home," Robin smiled warmly, nodding at Zora as she joined them inside. "Nice to meet you at last. Bruce says yo--"
        “Splinters!” exclaimed the redhead.

He took the heavy bag off her hands and followed her gaze to Cepheus. "Splinters? When do I get a special nickname?"

"Constellations." Said Andromeda at last. They were named after constellations. She gave Bruce a level stare for the nickname she gave her brother Cepheus. She let it linger just long enough before smiling at Arcturus and Elixa. Friendly with them both. Could not start a fight with Roh's wife could she.

"So what have you got against chairs?" She asked this question to their host. Cepheus had told her they needed to bring chairs. He was going to transfigure his umbrella. Andromeda could conjure a chair. Auror skills for the win. If it deconjured she would be sitting on the floor but better that than with an umbrella up her bum.

One of the two Gamp rooks finally spoke up with an answer - so heavenly bodies it was, and a whole lot more reassuring than the dramatics of Greek myths. Constellations were pretty to look at, if untouchable.

Robin gestured for his guests to gather in the living area, once drinks and gifts had been deposited on the kitchen island.

"Chairs? Got nothing against chairs," he smiled at the witch, a crooked smile. "Love to sit on 'em , tie my lovers to 'em..." the wizard maybe-joked with a wink at Andromeda's brother.

But then he behaved himself and nodded at the seatless table. "Kind of just wanted to see what everyone would bring. Tells you something about a person, don't you think?"

Zora and Bruce were wed in both the heart and the wardrobe - Zora wasn't dressed all that differently from her wife. Her curly black hair was loosely braided twice, her leather jacket was brown instead of black, and she didn't care for denim. And yeah, she had a pair of round dark sunglasses on which she transferred to the top of her head for the indoors.

Iona always had more gusto at parties than Zora did, but she was as game as anyone to have a night being human. She made the appropriate greeting to Robin, who she had heard earfuls about now from Iona and Athena, not least of which was how he'd managed at that werewolf march that Zora had avoided.

"Yeah, everyone knows everyone," Zora confirmed dryly, and moved to clear a place for the seating Iona had chosen for them. They'd had a great laugh about it and couldn't honestly think of anything better.

"Hands and feet back, lovelies," Zora declared. At her magical command, a full-size three-cushioned sofa sprang from the tote bag and clattered to rest on its four wooden feet right there opposite the fireplace. A throw pillow had gotten stuck in the tote and Zora fished it out before having a seat right in the middle, arms spread out over the back.

She caught her colleague Andromeda's eye and lifted a finger in greeting. See? Aurors had fun.

Like a whirlwind Robin was off to greet his other guests as soon as he'd asked that question. Arcturus stepped aside to let the two newcomers pass, thinking about what their host had said. "You guys all know each other?" He cast his gaze around the room and realised that no, not really--

Cepheus.

His breath caught in his chest. Arc forced himself to take a deep breath and slowly exhale, the action almost instinctive at this point in his usual methods to try and keep his wits about him if something caught him off-guard. Merlin, Arc definitely knew him and couldn't deny the ache in his heart. He glanced away from the two Gamps and felt Elixa's arm squeeze around his.

Looking into her eyes he immediately knew she knew what had happened. Things like this were unspoken between the two of them by now and it wasn't just because they were close. He deeply appreciated Lix glancing over briefly in Cepheus' direction before looking back at him and nodding, raising her eyebrows encouragingly. Well, that wasn't going to happen now obviously, there were bigger priorities such as chatting to their host - and Arcturus did want to hang out with this eclectic group of people, anxiety be damned he was a dancer now for goodness' sake - and enjoying the feeling of warmth and camaraderie around a fire and a freshly occupied home.

When he finally caught up with Robin, Elixa having loosened her grip on his arm to perhaps go and greet people she knew, he chuckled at the joke he heard upon arriving within hearing range. "Will you be telling us chair facts soon enough, Robin? To answer your question, I actually don't know everyone here despite how small we are as a community. Not a bad thing, just not really the circles I move around in." He could understand Robin being nervous finding out everyone in the room turned out to be so familiar despite being from different walks of life and professions.

"You're joining us from the States, right?" Arcturus tilted his head questioningly, hoping to focus on Robin long enough first and not be noticed by Cepheus - fat chance, it wasn't as if his hair was already the most obvious announcement of his existence in this room. "How do people greet each other there where you're from? I know it's a big place and everyone's got their own style based on state or even city, so what's yours? I've never been to the States myself."

He hadn't actually thought anyone was going to make much of a performance over their chair reveal - but Bruce's wife, sunglasses and all, began by pulling quite the proverbial rabbit out of their hat.

Robin barked a surprised laugh, instinctively applauding the sudden appearance of an entire sofa at his dinner table. "Comfort first, I approve."

It made him feel better about Bruce's leg and whether she would have been at ease in any chair he could have provided himself.

As the others commented on Zora's handiwork, or began conjuring their own seats, Robin found himself accosted by Hollingbury. Arcturus, rather, which he'd never called the other Healer in-person. There was a weird energy about him for some reason.

"I'll leave the facts to you, I'm full of lies and fictions tonight," he joked. "Not strictly from the States, though. Been living there most my life but I'm actually Canadian."

Not that anyone couldn't blame Arc, considering his accent was pretty Americanised. Robin didn't think he had any particular way of greeting people - this evening alone he'd had handshakes, hugs, polite nods.

He clapped a hand on the man's shoulder, squeezing. "Any greeting's as good as the other. Thanks for coming, I'll put those pomegranates to good use for dessert. Pavlova, just the thing."

“You don’t want a special nickname, Robin.” replied Iona with a wink as she moved further into the room. The stare from the witch next to Gamp didn’t escape her notice. She’d seen her before around the Ministry. An auror. Also a Gamp. Perhaps she might ask Zo later if this one straddled fence posts too. Blue eyes scanned the room taking in the eclectic mix of dinner guests. Her and Zora, Cepheus Gamp and Auror Gamp, some random wizard she’d never seen before, and Jules. She felt a slight relief to not see Spectre in the room, but imagined he might still be to appear, who knew?

Near the large dining table, Zora made a small show of retrieving their living room sofa from her bag, complete with the throw they would huddle under when it got cold at home. Bruce grinned, rather proud of herself for the choice in seating. They’d be comfortable this evening, and she’d defy anyone to have a better choice of ‘chair’ than the Roh-Ballentynes.

“Abbott!” While Zora dropped down onto the sofa, Bruce dropped the bag of booze on the seat next to her and limped over to her friend, throwing her spare arm around him for a hug. “Where’s Daisy? She was supposed to give me some inside info on where to bet for next week. Your presence alone is a disappointment.” she pulled back, grabbing his arm. “Did you bring a chair? Park your arse on our sofa. You can be in a lesbian sandwich. Zo’s desperate for a cuddle.”

Andromeda nodded in approval of Roh's three-seater sofa. The auror conjured a low-backed stool. Black leather and chrome. It swiveled. She preferred a perch to a lounge. Closer to a bar stool. Better for her short height. Could see everything. A charm would adjust the height obviously.

"Alright St Mungo's?" Andie greeted Lix and Arcturus. "Had any fun potions lately?" Lix had analyzed the fake wolfsbane but now they were on to the Muse like she was.

“Abbott!”
“Brucie!”

They hugged it out.

“Where’s Daisy? She was supposed to give me some inside info on where to bet for next week. Your presence along is a disappointment.”

“Love you too.” He grinned. “She’s got called in, some drama to solve on the team.” His wife’s international quidditch coaching career was complicated without timezones added into the mix.

“… you can be in a lesbian sandwich. Zo’s desperate for a cuddle.”

“Like a crocodile is, I bet,” Jules grinned at Bruce’s wife with her too-cool-for-this-party sunglasses. “I’ve already been in a Gamp sandwich on the doorstep,” he thumbed at the siblings over his shoulder, and threw himself down beside Zora with a bump. “How’s it going? Ooh, nice sofa,” he shuffled his backside, “very comfy, heck - here she comes.” He braced for Bruce impact.