Tuesday, September 16th, 6pm.

The rising moon put Graham in a contemplative mood for the evening.  After his rushed departure from their last date, Graham was sure Quincy wouldn't want anything to do with him.  Second chances like that didn't come by that often, particularly ones like Ms. St. James.  He was lucky to still have  Samia as a client, and if he weren't careful even that last connection to the family would disappear.  Quincy was his last chance for happiness, and he would fight for that with every last breath in his body.

Thus it was that Graham found himself leaving the castle on a Tuesday night.  Normally he was devoted to his home, but tonight held something greater in the balance.  He had pawed off his rounds to another professor and had quickly left the grounds.  Quincy had mentioned she still lived in Easingwold, and while Graham was somewhat familiar with the countryside he was still a bit nervous about apparating there.  He concentrated on the hillside he knew, less than half a mile from the market square to prevent any 'accidents.' 

A loud crack split through the silent night, and Graham was absorbed into the void.  He was spit back out a moment later, limbs and eyebrows intact.  Being so close to Quincy set a tremor of nervous joy throughout his body.  He was near her house, her bedroom--if he were a religious man, Graham might have crossed himself.  He brushed invisible lint from his robes, and began to breach the stretch of woods separating him from his love. 

A rustle broke his thoughts, and Graham jumped back.  He was too close to a town for any large animals.  The bush rustled again, and this time Graham heard something else:  sniffling.  He let out his breath, unaware of holding it in until then.  Sniffling wasn't animal, it was human.  Against his better judgment, Graham ambled towards the bush. The bush shook more and Graham realized the little girl was just as afraid of him as he was as her. 

The thought of himself as a threat was a nice ego boost, and Graham found himself inclined to protect the girl.  "What's going on, little one?" he asked curiously, crouching down in the leaves to see eye to eye with the girl.  He felt almost heroic, like a god, deigning to step down and protect someone little.  The more defenseless she seemed, the more powerful Graham felt.

She sniffled again, swallowed hard, and the second the little girl opened her mouth tears started following again.  And then the moan.  This was why Graham detested children.  He could barely make out a word she was saying, something about momma and daddy, and baby, but he couldn't make heads or tails of it all.  She was wailing like a banshee and it was all Graham could do to not leave.  What a great protector he turned out to be.  Despite his stone heart, Graham knew he couldn't leave her there, especially not when it was an even greater excuse to see Quincy.  Showing up to apologize for his departure and beg for another date was pathetic at best.  But to turn up with a child in need of saving and to say that he thought of her first, well really just as an afterthought because of the child--he was there on other business entirely, that was something else.  That was something to be rewarded with a date.

He smiled at the prospect and began trying to calm the child down.  "There, there," he cooed awkwardly, attempting to pat the young girl on the head, "I'll make everything ok."  The tears kept flowing, and Graham wasn't sure how to subdue them.  He patted his pockets, hoping he still had a couple left.  His hand happened upon a flat oval, and he pulled it out with glee.  "Look, I have a cookie! Wouldn't you like a nice cookie!"  The girl looked up, probably half-starved, and eagerly snatched the treat.  "Yes, yes, have a cookie.  Now come with me, and we'll make those tears go away."  She gathered a small purple bag and blanket, then grabbed Graham's outstretched hand. 

The two made for an odd couple:  Graham who rarely had the delight of holding a female's hand, and Natasha, happily munching on a chocolate chip cookie from his lunch.  She still sniffled every other step, to Graham's dismay, but at least the tears had lessened.  They walked in silence, Graham not sure whether to risk tears again by asking any other questions, and Natasha trying not to fall behind with his quick pace.  His legs were a lot longer than hers, and it wasn't fair.

"Where are we going?" she asked curiously, licking chocolate and snot from her fingertips.  "We're going to see one of the fairest ladies in the land," he replied, glad to see no tears had resulted.  He couldn't stand another flood.  From his small knowledge of little girls, Graham knew mostly that they liked fairy tales.  Describing it in such a way seemed the safest way to go.  Besides, Quincy really was one of the fairest ladies in the land.  "Really?" she asked curiously, her eyes shining with hope and tears.  "Really," Graham promised, looking down on the girl with a small smile.  She was almost likable, now.  It was quite curious.

It wasn't long before they reached the cottage, lights blazing from every window.  Shouting could be heard from outside, and Graham was quite unnerved by the sight.  Maybe now wasn't such a good time, after all.  "That, that's mommy!" the little girl cried.  Before Graham could react, she let go of his hand and went running to the house.

He stood in shock, the wheels turning in his mind.  That was Quincy's house.  Quincy was the child's mother.  He had just rescued Quincy's child from the woods.

The full impact of that statement hit him, and he stood stock still for a moment.  In the next, he was running after the girl towards the house.  "Wait!" he cried, wanting to present the child to Quincy himself.

“Don’t you dare blame me, woman!” Eddie replied harshly, feeling his temper rise dramatically the more him and Quincy were arguing. Of course, arguing wasn’t the most productive thing the couple could be doing right now but it was all Eddie could do to stop himself from storming over to his supposed mate’s place and ripping his head off with a swish of his wand.

“You tried having it off with my best friend in front of our daughter and then tell ‘er you’re pregnant and you wonder WHY she’s ran away?” It quite literally took all of Eddie’s self control not to stick his fist through the wall right now, probably imagining it to be Jason’s face. Jason’s smug, backstabbing, soon to be smashed up face. The feel of his bones breaking under Eddie’s power wouldn’t change what he’d just heard, though. Quincy would still have done that. And now Natasha was missing.

“I didn’t realise I’d married a cheap harlot!” The kind to sleep with her husband’s best friend. Eddie’s grip tightened on his wand and his face reddened. How did he deal with this? He’d never been betrayed like this. Not by two people he cared about so much.  Suddenly, with this thought, a surge of anger spread through Eddie’s body and he lifted his fist, ramming it into the nearest wall to him with a grunt.

Before anything else could be said and when Quincy opened her mouth to make up some pathetic response, banging on the front door could be heard. Hoping to god it was Natasha finally come home, Eddie left the living room faster that one could say backstabbing hussy.

The front door was wrenched open and Eddie’s eyes travelled down from a man stood at their door, diving for their daughter to his little girl who threw herself at him, half winding the auror. His arms quickly closed around her protectively before his attention rapidly fell on the man. He seemed familiar.

“Don’t you dare take another step towards my daughter you sick creep.” He threatened coldly, green eyes boring into Graham’s.

“Don’t you dare blame me, woman!”

"I wasn't blaming you!" she shouted back at him, furious. "I- well yes, actually, I was blaming you! If you hadn't been so hell-bent on pulling this family apart, I wouldn't have been inclined to look elsewhere!" She was fuming, so much so that it surprised her not to have smoke billowing out of her ears. Her brows were knitted together and her mouth was strained. So, perhaps what she had just said wasn't going to help in those circumstances, but the man was just making her so angry! She had come clean and apologised - like she'd had a choice, considering Charlotte had ratted her out! But either way, was this really the right time to be discussing her moral standards?

“You tried having it off with my best friend in front of our daughter and then tell ‘er you’re pregnant and you wonder WHY she’s ran away?”

"First of all," she shouted, "I didn't try to have it off with him. It didn't take much trying!" Ouch. That would be a low blow. "And second of all, Natasha was fast asleep! Do you honestly think I would pull a stunt like that if I thought my daughter had been awake!?" she let out a groan of frustration and held her hand up to her forehead. "And what kind of father are you, standing here and arguing with me when she is still missing!" Two could play at that game. If he was going to question her abilities as a parent, she would damn well return the favour.

“I didn’t realise I’d married a cheap harlot!”

Quincy took a sharp intake of breath and her eyes widened. That hurt. "I-" she started, her voice softening with the blow. She jumped back as his fist headed for a wall, creating cracks in the plaster. She winced as she realised that must have hurt him. But clearly physical pain was what he needed to vent his emotions right now.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Eddie was already half way there before Quincy thought to follow him. When he opened the door a small boulder ploughed into him, and Quincy realised who it was. "Natasha..." she whispered, suddenly feeling dizzy and sick all at the same time. "Natasha!" she exclaimed loudly, her voice breaking as she almost stumbled forward and onto her knees at the doorway. The little girl looked up from her dad and her eyes positively lit up as she made a break from her father and ran into her mother's open arms. Quincy sighed as she pressed her daughter's head into the crook of her neck, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head. Natasha started crying and Quincy could have very nearly joined in, though she managed to stop herself from heaving a great load of tears from her eyes. Instead, a couple of tears of joy ran down her cheeks as she hugged her daughter to her and refused to let go.

“Don’t you dare take another step towards my daughter you sick creep.”

"Eddie!" She spoke sharply, looking between him and Graham. "How can you be so ungrateful!?" She stood up and picked Natasha up, still burying herself in her mother's embrace. "Graham, we are forever in your debt. Thank you so much for bringing her back safe." She kissed Natasha's head once more, trying not to think about all of the possible outcomes they had come to terms with throughout the night.

“Don’t you dare take another step towards my daughter you sick creep.”

Big, blonde and blocky, just the man Graham never wanted to see again.  He recoiled back at the familiar nickname.  It was just like Eddie to slap a benevolent hand, blinded by his own stupidity.  A million insults were compiling on the tip of his tongue while he stood on the doorstep.  Every once of happiness in gaining Quincy's favor was turned immediately into scowling at Edward Pratt.  How the man had ever taken such a treasure was a question only for the gods.  Fortunately his queen stepped in before he said something he'd regret.

"Eddie!  How can you be so ungrateful!?  Graham, we are forever in your debt. Thank you so much for bringing her back safe."

Ha.  Graham gave Eddie a smug smile upon hearing Quincy's words.  That's right, they were grateful to him.  "Thank you, Quincy," he replied graciously, the smugness melting into a gracious smile.  "I was lucky to have found her.  She was curled up behind a bush in the woods a mile back.  If I hadn't been there, well..." he paused, looking away while pressing his lips together as if holding back an expression of emotion, "I hate to think what could have happened."  

He took a step inside the house, defying Eddie's declaration under the pretense of concern for their daughter.  "See...," he paused, momentarily recollecting her name, "Natahsa, I promised it would be ok."  He rubbed the small girl's back in reassurance, more so to bring himself closer to the mother than to convey any actual feeling.  

"And what kind of father are you, standing here and arguing with me when she is still missing!"

There was no doubt in Edward’s mind that Quincy could give just as good as she got, if not better sometimes. Mrs Pratt served her ex-husband one low blow after another and Eddie was left reeling. He didn’t need to know how much ‘trying’ had gone on between the only woman he’d ever loved and his best friend. Even the thought made him sick to his stomach. And he most certainly didn’t need to be told that he was a crap father. It wasn’t his fault their baby girl was missing!

“She wouldn’t be missing if you stopped dropping yer knickers to any man that comes near!” And the ball was once more in Eddie’s court. Of course Quincy was right; they shouldn’t be fighting while their daughter was missing. But Edward had just been told she’d nearly got a little too friendly with his best mate. How else was the man supposed to react?!

The knock on the door, however, saved them from further arguing. Only until Quincy shouted at Eddie for being ‘ungrateful!?’. He’d just opened the door to have his daughter (who was previously been missing) try to bowl him over while being chased by a creepy bearded and greasy haired man. Was Eddie supposed to thank the pervert for chasing and terrifying his daughter!?

"Graham, we are forever in your debt. Thank you so much for bringing her back safe."

Eddie’s eyes moved from his little girl who’d now found her mother’s embrace to the creep stood on their doorstep.  “Graham...?” Then it started to twig and the auror’s face contorted. Grimy Graham, Greasy Grubby Graham.  That was...he hadn’t changed.

"I was lucky to have found her.  She was curled up behind a bush in the woods a mile back.  If I hadn't been there, well...I hate to think what could have happened."

Eddie had to resist the urge to curse the creep and instead turned his back on him to face Quincy and their daughter. “You had us worried sick, sweetie.” The auror muttered, running a hand over Natasha’s hair before kissing her forehead.

It was then that Graham crossed the threshold and reached out to touch the young girl. The protective side of Eddie combined with his anger and he grabbed Graham’s wrist, pulling it away from his daughter. “Ye’ve brought ‘er back now. That’s enough.” The tone this was said was threatening as Eddie tightened his grip on Graham’s wrist further. He didn’t want this freak touching his daughter.

"I was lucky to have found her.  She was curled up behind a bush in the woods a mile back.  If I hadn't been there, well..."

Quincy took in a sharp breath as she pulled Natasha closer to her, cradling the little girl's head against her own shoulder and rocking her soothingly from side to side. Eddie crouched down and kissed her, saying that she had worried them both. She couldn't disagree with him on that, though the reasons for her running away were clearly their own fault.

"Natasha, I promised it would be ok."

Quincy smiled weakly as Graham made a move over the threshold. This could not be good - much as though she appreciated everything Graham had done for them, Edward was in a foul mood - a mood that could only worsen when 'Greasy Graham' stepped over their doorstep and into their home. Graham placed a hand on Natasha's back and rubbed it reassuringly, though Quincy felt the little girl squirm a bit as though trying to burrow herself even closer into her mother's arms.

“Ye’ve brought ‘er back now. That’s enough.”

Quincy's eyes widened as she saw Eddie's fingers latched onto Graham's wrist. There was no need for that! Quincy stood up, cradling her little girl in her arms as she did so. "Graham, would you like a drinnk? Tea or coffee? We have butterbeer too." She shot an indignant look at Eddie which dared him to try and make a scene. St.james women were not to be crossed when they had their minds set on something.

Graham flinched at the fist that gripped his wrist.  He started back, appalled at the use of violence that Eddie was known for.  If that was what he wanted fine, he could punch Graham for bringing his child back from the wilderness.  It only proved what a brute Eddie was and what a gentleman Graham remained.  He glared at Eddy, his lips curling into a sneer at the brutality.

He glanced down at his wrist, it would be red tomorrow if not purple.  "Take your hand off me," he growled, his own hand off the child in question.  "And you wonder why she doesn't want you around the children." 

Tension still draped the room, and Graham was glad for any excuse to escape the caveman.  "Tea is fine, thank you.  Can I help you?" he asked, making his way towards what he presumed was the kitchen.

"Take your hand off me,"

There was no way Eddie was going to listen to the creepy little man. The auror still didn’t believe the creep had simply found her and brought her back. Neither did the auror want to even consider the things this greasy slimeball may have done to his child. Quincy was quick to trust, but not the girl’s father. Years of tracking criminals and having to watch people die made one paranoid but it also made one a better judge of character. Graham was the greasy kind, but not a criminal.

Graham muttered something else and the auror’s eyes bore into him. Not once had Eddie not been allowed to see his kids. And he wasn’t a violent man...Generally. But that slimey, grimey face was just begging to be punched. Eddie imagined the feel of the man’s bones crushing under his fist before his eyes made contact with Quincy’s. The idea of punching the man slowly simmered away thanks to his ex-wife’s stern expression. If he pummelled Graham now he’d be in the flobberworm house again.

Eddie slowly released his grip on the smaller man’s wrist.

"Graham, would you like a drink? Tea or coffee? We have butterbeer too."

Behave Eddie, behave. “I’ll give ye a-” Before Eddie could finish, he caught sight of a head peering around the side of the doorframe. Their eldest son. Ignoring the fact that Graham had made his way towards the kitchen, Eddie moved to the stairs where he’d seen the boy hiding. “Thought I told you to go to bed, lad.”

"Tea it is." Quincy smiled as Graham was released from the steel grips of Eddie's hands. Eddie had a temper on him, and he could be quite a scary man. But, she could understand his concern. His little girl had gone missing for almost twenty-four hours. What man in his right mind wouldn't panic when his six-year-old girl turned up at the door with a man who he had disliked in school. It was possibly a little more diconcerting for Eddie than Quincy realised, but then she knew Graham better than Eddie did. She felt only relief, not frustration.

"If you could perhaps grab the milk?" She asked over her shoulder, after setting the kettle to boil and sitting Natasha on the bench next to her with a cupcake in hand. As she went about putting the teabags in the cups and the sugar in the bowl, she listened intently to Eddie in the passage. It seemed as though Noah was up. "Noah, come her please love." She called, probably annoying Eddie more. Noah had a right to see that his sister was safe. He had been worried about her, just like everybody else.

Graham was pleased to make himself part of the domestic arrangement.  If only he could edge out the Pratt, everything would be perfect.  He opened the refrigerator, pausing a moment to locate the milk before setting it out on the counter.  This was how life should have been.  It was eerily enchanting.

Fortunately the little boy saved Graham from any further threat.  He felt pity for the children, just for a moment.  He could remember his own father holding that much anger in his voice.  Quincy didn't deserve that, neither did the children.  As the little boy entered the kitchen, Graham crouched down to eye level with the boy.  "Hello, Noah.  I'm Graham."  Maybe if the children realized how nice he was, Quincy would come to her senses and finally leave the jerk.