13 February 2018
8pm, Tuesday
Genevieve Garcia's flat above Witch Weekly

Earnest had forgotten about Valentine's day and realized the thing needed to be sorted out before then. Neither of them expected any big gesture but to ignore the day entirely would be suspect; it just seemed really caddish to end a relationship on Valentine's day, so Earnest decided to rip off the plaster the night before. He'd owled ahead and arrived on time, empty handed.

The abrupt end was precipitated by the shocking revelation of two nights ago that Genevieve had been one of the witches his father had behind his mother's back.[1] Earnest felt made a fool of, and sick from the taboo of it all. He had no reason to suspect Gen hadn't known exactly what she was doing, having them both on.

He'd promised himself he'd keep it civil. It was cold and he adjusted his scarf over his nape and pulled at the standing lapel of the wool coat. Perhaps it was a mistake to be seen here, but he expected his time on her stoop would be brief.

1.	11 Feb 2018 - These Little Things Define Us

Nothing exciting happened on a Tuesday. Tuesday evenings in the winter were mostly for a book, or writing her own, and a glass of wine, curled up by a roaring fire. Perhaps she was getting a little old for the nightlife scene so regularly. Perhaps she’d merely matured from it and had other priorities. Either way, it wasn’t unusual for Genevieve García to be at home on a Tuesday evening, so waiting in for Earnest to show up at her front door was no hardship.

When the bell sounded to announce her visitor, the Witch Weekly editor and author had been sat on the sofa with a few proofs of witch weekly articles spread out on the coffee table. She wore a pair of dark rimmed glasses (a new addition over recent years), some light jeans and a black t-shirt. Her dark hair was loose, thick waves reaching her shoulders. A Flick of her wand caused the downstairs door to open onto the street, and Gen got up off the sofa to cross the small hallway and open the door to see Earnest coming up the stairs.

The first thing that Genevieve acknowledged was that her young friend wasn’t taking the stairs quickly, eager to make her aware how much he’d missed her these past couple of days. The last she’d been him, his mother had appeared, and Gen had left almost immediately after. It didn’t even occur to her that Irene Carstairs could have said anything, because that witch was clearly living in ignorance about the reality of her husband’s true fantasies.

“iQué hombre muy guapo!” The witch greeted with a smile, making an attempt to ignore the lack of ‘jump your bones’ vibe.

For a second -- a long second, an aching second -- Earnest reconsidered his plan. Gen was bright and beautiful and if he didn't let on that he knew about Solomon, then maybe they could keep it a secret forever. No! He almost audibly grunted at the flash of lapse of judgement. It took one very short second of picturing his father here (even if it hadn't been here) for him to remind himself what bile tasted like.

He couldn't help but smile at the greeting, but all the same went past her into her home without the usual affectionate touch. As he passed he got a whiff of her shampoo.

Gen's place was homey and chic, a contrast to Earnest's flat which was all sort of provided to him without much of his intervention.

"We need to talk," he said, before he lost his nerve. He stood in her entry without taking off his coat, without showing himself into her living room.

Gen’s smile dropped slightly. No bone jumping tonight, then. In fact, ‘we need to talk’ often preceded a dumping. Strange to be on the receiving side of such a thing, really. Queen G was the one that so often gave that talk when she’d grown bored of someone because, lets face it, she still wasn’t in any state to settle down. Gen was too damaged by the entire ‘my husband is a Death Eater’ ordeal. It was almost impossible to move beyond such a mess and live a normal life. She was now destined to flit between handsome wizards and bad choices. Earnest, however, had only been a thing going on for a few weeks. He was still fresh and fun and, despite his name, didn’t hang around her like an overeager salivating puppy.

“Do we?” asked the witch, dark eyebrows raised. His mother had gotten to him, sitting on her high pedestal of wealth and propriety. People always thought themselves above Gen, it was why she’d spent a lifetime working hard to be better than they believed, to rise above the judgements and succeed in every element of her career. Still, it clearly wasn’t enough to satisfy stuck up bitchy mothers, was it?

Dark eyes danced between Earnest’s. Unless he knew, which would mean his mother knew. That would raise many questions, because Gen knew that she’d want to slice the balls off of any wizard that cheated on her, not play happy families. As far as she was aware, their Minister still had two balls.

“Well, I love talking, darling. Shall we talk on the sofa like civilised beings or is this an entrance hall drop and dash kind of affair?”

Earnest watched Genevieve's face, watching him. They were both weighing suspicions and motives.

"No, no, that's fine. We can sit."

He led the way down the short flight of stairs to the living room, taking off his coat and scarf along the way to drape on the back of a chair. He took a spot on the shorter of the two sofas and rested his elbows on his knees.

"Nothing to do it, but to say it: I know you've been with my father. My mum knows as well."

He kneaded his hands and bit his lip before continuing. "I need to end this."

Gen dropped back into her seat and waved her want towards the kitchen. An empty wine glass came to land on the coffee table, but she didn’t move to fill it yet. Earnest wasn’t even seated beside her, so Gen knew exactly what this was. She would be polite, let it play out. It had been fun while it lasted. He’d been fun while he lasted. Much more exciting than his bureaucratic father.

Father. “Ah.”

His mother knew. Well, well, well. The dirty Minister’s dirty secret was out with his wife yet she stood by him like some meek house elf bound by…well bound by something, anyway.

Gen didn’t speak immediately, instead she pressed her lips together. From the kitchen now floated a bottle of golden coloured tequila and a couple of shot glasses. The bottle unstoppered magically and filled each shot glass. Gen reached forward, picking up each and offering one to Earnest. She downed her own, returning it to the table to be refilled.

“And she’s still with him? Hm.” She drained the second shot before looking back to Earnest and sitting back, seeming unperturbed. “Earnest, it was quite some time ago. A really dark time for me, and a thoroughly forgettable experience.” Solomon Carstairs had been there when she’d needed a warm body in some of her loneliest days. She hadn’t made it a habit to sleep with married wizards. “It had nothing to do with you and I.”

"I beg to differ," Earnest scoffed. He'd just watched Gen slam two shots of tequila and the smell of it reminded him, again, of having sex with her.

He was choosing not to engage any of her commentary about his mother, who deserved every mote of respect and deference. Gen's carelessness with his family's feelings was coming off as very unflattering. It was a side of her he hadn't seen before, or chosen not to see. The Witch Weekly had been very good to him. Maybe he'd missed something.

"What did you think would happen when I found out? Did you imagine I'd be good with it?"

It had been baffling him since that chat with Solomon what she could have been thinking. Earnest had had no designs on them being anything more than a bit of carefree smashing, sure, but she had to know it would come out. Right?

“I didn’t imagine anything.” Gen said with a shrug. What did he want from her? A grovelling apology? It was Sol that had cheated on Earnest’s mother. It was Sol that had lied to his son and wife for years. Gen? She’d…omitted the truth.

“Would you have liked me to have led with it when you flirted with me?” Gen liked Earnest because he was sweet and energetic and you were surely only as young as the wizard you felt, but it was never expected to be serious. It wasn’t as if she ever wanted to meet the parents. Heck, she’d met one intimately. “What should I have said? You’re hot, Earnest, but I shagged your Dad once when my Death Eater husband was sitting in Azkaban. It was underwhelming. Still want to go at it?”

Gen shook her head; even she knew how distasteful it sounded. From his point of view, it probably was pretty awful, but to her it really hadn’t been. She’d been a different person all those years ago, she’d been an emotional mess, lonely and broken by the hatred being thrown her way for Leo’s crimes. Sol had been nice and she’d been…well she’d been Gen.

“Not my finest moment, and I hardly expected your Dad to keep a pensieve memory of the event for your mother to hold him to account.” Gen cringed and took a third shot of tequila. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention it. It’s a bit weird, yeah.”

Earnest sat back, his brows knit. It felt shitty to be so disregarded, and for Gen to be so unperturbed. He'd sworn to himself that he could not and should not count on a satisfying reaction from Gen. All he had to do was be the gentlemen and end things properly. Their casual relationship was not worth any of this trouble.

Her admitting it was 'a bit weird' and the small offered apology was more than he needed. On the other hand, the context she added did nothing to make him feel better about anything. If she'd slept with anyone else's father under those conditions, he'd have no judgement whatsoever. But she'd slept with his father and then she'd slept with him. It was gross! He winced, having imagined it again.

"Well, that's all, I suppose. It'd be best if nothing else came of it."

Not on his own account, and certainly not Solomon's, but for his mother.

“If that’s your preference.” Genevieve said, not seeming overly bothered. It was, of course, disappointing. She quite liked Earnest, but not enough to grovel and apologise profusely to her error in judgement. He’d been a fun fling, and not everyone could say that they’d experienced both father and son. Not that it was something she was about to brag about. Solomon Carstairs should be glad she’d kept his dirty little secret for as long as she had. “I’m not going to try and change your mind, even if I do enjoy our dates.”

Gen crossed her legs and glanced back at Earnest, her expression suddenly serious.
“I wasn’t the first…with your Dad. I can put a pretty wager on the fact that I wasn’t the last, either. Once a cheater always a cheater. It begs the question as to why your mother’s still playing house when she knows what he is.” It wasn’t clear if Gen was making the comment as a thoughtful observer or because she was in reporter mode, digging for dirt where she really shouldn’t be. "I'd have ripped my husband's balls off if he'd done that to me." But Leo had done far worse, hadn't he?

Earnest laughed a little, like he'd been slapped. He looked at Gen narrowly, incredulous.

"You think you're delivering me news?" he asked, still leaning forward. Gen had always struck Earnest as one of those people who you wanted on your side, and Earnest had maybe naively thought that, oh, she'd never, as if sleeping together was enough truce that it wouldn't matter how politically famous his father was.

"You will leave this alone, and keep my mother out of it. I'm serious. She's none of your business. She's allowed her privacy and does not deserve your judgement."

Any casual, comfortable or even sexual vibes between Earnest Carstairs and Genevieve García had thoroughly disappeared. Evidently, according to Earnest, Gen had crossed a metaphorical line in bringing up his mother. It was sweet of him, at least, and she rather hoped her own son Dante would be as protective of her if needed. The sweetness didn’t, however, detract from the fact that Earnest felt it acceptable to tell her what not to do.

He had made a very foolish mistake.

“Privacy? Sol waved away any privacy your family had the second he became Minister, darling. He’s the first Minister in decades to have a wife and family. I’ve been a very good girl, giving you all that positive publicity. It’s a real pity that that’s given you a little too much confidence in telling me what is and isn’t my business.”

With a sigh, Gen rose from her seat and looked expectantly at Earnest. It was time for him to leave. “As fun as this has been, you really should go. My quill is itching.”

Earnest was momentarily stunned at Gen's strange turn to vindictive, covered with sweet syrup though it was. After a moment he pressed himself to his feet, conscious of the feeling of having been some how obedient. He took up his scarf and donned his coat, silent for the moment.

Then stepped closer to Gen and slid his hands into his coat pockets. He set his mouth to a straight line.

"I'll go. There's no reason to make this ugly, Gen. You're better than that."

Earnest rose from his seat and the magazine editor watched him pull his coat and scarf back on. He was certainly a handsome wizard, and sweeter than most. It was almost heartwarming how he was so protective over his mother; not enough, however, to make her back down. For years, Gen had kept Solomon’s secret because she wasn’t a vindictive person. Witch Weekly hadn’t needed to share this knowledge. But Solomon had clearly been caught out by his wife and son, so the secret was as good as out, wasn’t it? Sandy would be impressed by how many copies this story would sell.

“Ugly?” The Queen of Written and Wireless media repeated, her Mexican accent somehow seeming stronger right now. Perhaps that was the alcohol in the tequila now having an effect. “Oh, you would know if this was ugly, Guapo.”

Earnest had chosen how this would go down, he should have known what he was getting into, sleeping with Genevieve García.

“Don’t worry, Príncipe, I’ll be nice to you.” It was his father who’d gotten himself involved, wasn’t it? Solomon who thought himself better than her. She leaned forward, lips close to brushing his cheek but he pulled away. Gen’s brows rose. “¡Qué lástima, Earnest!”

"Unbelievable!" Earnest said raising his hands. He felt red in the face at the affront of an unwanted kiss. He'd never felt so ice-cold turned off.

"You're out of your mind," he added, and after another look of utter exasperation, he gathered himself and left.

As he left he cast about for some explanation for how he could have possibly been the one to make things worse. It was his father who was the source of the error and Earnest had only tried to clean it up, nicely and civilly. But now there was a very real possibility that Gen was going to go full awful over some non-existent slight.