Fierce as fire and sweet as fruit
Not easily defined, not following suit
In a world that's run on pride and force

@loraine - outfit

Eleanor's mother always said that red shoes were for harlots, not for respectable pureblood ladies. Then again, her mother had also arranged her marriage to Thaddeus, so that showed what she knew about life. Oh, she loved her mother, and she missed her and admired the strength she'd had to raise her by herself after father was sent to Azkaban. Still, she had been rather outdated in her ideals, but that also went for many people nowadays. Keeping to tradition was good and all, when it came to matters of blood and power, but silly things like these were a thing of the past. Not that her mother ever missed a chance to tell her that whenever she passed through the family gallery. In general, however, she had been a good presence to have around. The woman had of course never seen the treatment Thaddeus put her through, having died after the man did, but her portrait saw that she was far happier with Roma. A complete change in behaviour from The Lady Bulstrode who was demure and did as she was told and dressed in dead dark colours. Not anymore. Her children were grown, strong, intelligent, and she lived with the love of her life. They had regained their home, snatching positions of much influence in return for their continued loyalty and fierce participation. Those in power, those who knew power, knew to respect it when it came from a woman. Whatever her marital status might be and with whom. Then again, as far as female partners went, she and Roma were lucky. Both pureblood Death Eaters of prominent families, of second sons, widowed and with legitimate children and heirs. Things could be worse.

The problem was that their power was precarious for the moment. Not her and Roma's especially, but that of the movement in general. They had managed to chase away the most powerful enemies, forced them into hiding and implemented most of their most effective movements. The only thing that would give the scum space to attack would be internal strife, so it was important to keep any problems that might arise behind closed doors. They had been very close for a while, what with Ares' errant eyes to women of lesser blood. That would've been fine and all if he'd kept them as mistresses and done his job, but he'd married the first one and allowed her to distract him from his duty. Then, when she died and he finally got his head back on straight, he went and found another. Married her too, from what she'd heard. Absolutely ridiculous, of course, and something that ruffled many feathers. Including her own. Not that she showed anything, of course, and her closest relatives were of the same mind. The cause was important and its permanence was of the highest order, but if things fell apart the Bulstrode Warringtons knew what side they would end up on. The Lestranges, of course. Tied through the Selwyn side, tied through the Rosier side, bringing along the Carrows, Rowles and Shafiqs. Also the Parkinsons. The prominent Death Eater families, thus, of the 28. The Wentzells and Mountbattens were foreign and they were a tied unit. Her own son's errant eyes did not matter. When the time came, he would make the right decision. She knew this, she would trust him to do this.

Of her other two children, she didn't think either were considering marriage just yet. Dear Ivan had always been more interested in his books than in people, but she had no doubt that he would choose the right person to do his duty with and then later on would follow his heart if it led him anywhere. After his duty was done, like his mothers. Loraine as well, she had no doubt, would do what was expected of her. Eleanor would never arrange a marriage for them unless they asked it, preferring to trust them to make their own decisions. Dutiful children, all of them, the youngest was just still a tad excitable. He would see what he had to do, eventually, and for now she would be patient. In the meantime, she would stay calm and enjoy her time with her family. Right now she was alone, sitting in one of the drawing rooms with a cup of tea as she reviewed the children's apprenticeship results. Loraine, Ivan, and Evan were her apprentices in herbology ,and Ivan also in potioneering. Since she had a full time job, and they all had their own tasks and schedules, she often gave them homework. So far, it was well done. Not that she expected any less, they were bright children.

The antique clock on the shelf chimed, and Loraine looked up in mild surprise. About two hours had passed without her notice, having been absorbed in the task of collecting material for her next experiment on pain endurance. She had a strict schedule, dividing her time carefully between work, her different studies, and personal issues. Doing research and carrying out tests were Loraine's favourite pastimes, it was both enlightening and entertaining. But science was not everything in her life as much as she would prefer things that way. She was a Bulstrode, a lady, with connection to countless other families of equal renown. And a lady had many duties. It didn’t matter that Loraine didn’t care for most of them personally, they still had to be fulfilled with all the care that was expected of her; she would never even consider anything to the contrary. She dressed properly, she walked, she talked properly. That was how she had been raised, any fault would be blamed upon her education, her mothers. That was not something Loraine could allow. She didn’t care for her reputation so much for her own sake as for her family’s. In the eyes of the world, there was little a girl could do for her family’s honour, but a little mistake could bring irreparable blemish.

When she allowed herself to think about how women were viewed by some men, Loraine couldn't help but being slightly displeased. As countless witches, her mothers among them, had shown, women were just as capable of combat and loyal to the cause as any wizard. Loraine herself had no inclination to spend her life as a mere ornament. She was talented, and she wanted to use her skills. And she wanted the world to know. But especially the last part she wouldn't admit openly. First, she was still far too young to do not appear ridiculous with ambitions many would consider too high. Second, Loraine never forgot that, no matter what she might achieve in politics or science, she still had a duty to fulfill towards the pureblood society. She needed to marry, marry well, and bear a son. And she was willing to do so. Yet, things were not that easy; being an ancient and noble family, the Bulstrodes were related to almost all important families. Loraine didn’t want to marry any cousin, that marriage practice was how several families had gone down, most notably the Gaunts. The number of men acceptable was not all too large. She was already twenty-three, an age at which many girls of her background were already married. She shouldn’t wait much longer, suitable husbands didn’t increase with age. The matter had to be considered now, even though Loraine didn’t intend to marry any time soon. But she needed an engagement. She needed to carry a systematic analysis of who might be acceptable, a task Loraine knew she wasn’t the most competent at. But one she didn’t have to accomplish alone.

Loraine put her papers in order and stood up. Walking out of the room and passing the halls of the Bulstorde Estate with decisive steps, she knew where she needed to go. There was no question with whom she wanted to discuss such delicate issues. While Mother Roma might have a better overview over possible candidats due to her journalistic talents, Mother was the one she needed to talk to first. Knocking at the door to the drawing room she supposed her mother would be in, she pressed down the handle and placed herself respectfully in the doorway - not because her mother would ask for so much formality, but because Loraine wanted to make it clear to everybody how much she honoured her mother. Unless she was totally sure that nobody but closest family was around, she wouldn’t let her love be more pronounced than her respect. ”Mother?” she asked. As far as she could see, her mother was alone, and Loraine allowed herself to smile. ”Can I talk to you some time today?” The papers in front of her mother looked suspiciously like her very own homework, but Loraine had fulfilled the tasks that had been set with all her usual diligence. Her mother wouldn’t be displeased with her because of sloppiness. Nevertheless, Loraine hated to be disturbed while she was working, and she would have to be very much mistaken were this trait not one of the many similarities she shared with her mother.

When she had married, she had thought she would hate being a mother. As it turned out, the only thing she hated about her new life was her husband. Being a mother came naturally to her. She wasn't the warmest person around, everyone knew that, but she'd never had difficulty with loving any of her children. Not with being gentle or caring or providing guidance. Life was hard and her children would only get the best out of it if she had anything to say about the matter. They were part of her, they were hers, and she would be damned if she let them go off the rails. It was all supposed to be their choice, of course, but she would admit that she wouldn't stand for anything less than a meeting of her expectations. It was a bit of a trick question then, wasn't it? You can do what you want but do what I want. It was something father criticised, not for doing it but for pretending she didn't. He always had something to mention, but he knew she wasn't all that open to hearing any of it. What did he have to teach her about looking after her family?

"Of course, sweetheart. We can talk right now." Anyone else, she would've sent away with a less than pleasant comment. Monroe had learned long ago that she was to come inside and wait until she paused to talk to her. However, her children were always the exception. No matter what she was doing, they would always be her priority. Even if it was something so simple as a question about her work hours, she was available. So she put aside the papers and placed a hand on the the couch beside her. Loraine rarely sought her out like this. She was a smart girl, usually very in control of her live and knowing of where she had to go next. So this was interesting. She was all ears, because she knew that it would be important. Loraine would never come to her unless it was, unless she truly needed a mother's guidance. "What's on your mind?"

Things at the house had been a bit tense lately. Jules knew he was in the wrong, she wasn't going to point it out to him again. If he came to her for an opinion, she would give it. Then again, she wasn't all that willing to stop his sister and brother from making their own comments and judgment. The two older children had understood the difficulty of the situation as soon as they'd heard her name. Much more mature and politically minded, they were. They would talk to him as they would, she trusted they wouldn't get too bad. Roma hadn't even touched the subject, not alone with Jules at least. She trusted Eleanor to handle her son's matters herself, she wouldn't intervene. Of course, he was also Roma's son, but the fact of the matter was that it wasn't just about the boy. It was about the family name, about the line, and the Bulstrode family name was Eleanor's. What happened with it was her choice. Thankfully, she hadn't told her father about these issues. He'd insist on talking to Jules himself and... well, he wasn't the most patient or kind of people. Loving, yes, but not gentle. This was a delicate matter and, unfortunately, her father had never handled 'delicate' and 'feelings' very well. Eleanor rued the day her mother passed away, the man wouldn't be half the mess he was now without that happening.

As a Healer, Loraine was filling a demanding and respectable position in society - just as someone of her birth ought to. She loved her work, not only because it was a task worthy to be executed, but also because she was genuinely interested in the functions of the human body. And ever since the take-over, she finally had ample material to try her theories on. With time, through her theoretical studies, many questions had arisen to which she was eager to find the answer, but for a long time no one would leave a corpse to her, much less a living human being. She had to be careful anyway, with her mothers being forced to work in the most humiliating fashion possible, with all their belongings stolen from them. She had needed to keep up a façade of content at work, of considering everything to be in perfect order, of agreeing with the crimes that were committed against her family - either that or being locked away too. She was of more use when she could walk around freely. She went to work and treated everybody with cold politeness, even the Mudbloods. She knew that there were plans, she knew that one day things would change. Everything would readjust into the natural order of purebloods being where they belonged - in power.

The situation was very promising now. They had back what was rightfully theirs, and the right people were in charge. Almost. The very man who had taken the leadership by becoming Minister of Magic seemed to consider himself above something as petty as dignity and aligned himself once again with someone far beneath him. Loraine didn’t understand how he could act so immaturely. If he loved the woman, that would have been fine with her. But that was no excuse to marry. Marriages had nothing to do with love. She had always known and never expected anything different. All things considered, the Minister of Magic was hardly suited for his position. She wouldn’t have minded normally, they had plenty of people who could do his job just as well, had it not been for Jules. How he could have forgotten everything their mothers ever taught them was… to be honest, it was exactly what she considered Jules capable of. He could be very naïve sometimes. He was her little brother, he would always be a baby to her.

Jules would come to his senses, and Loraine would never lose hers. Her brother was dating, she needed an engagement, one that would underline her family’s alliances. The man needed to have the right name, everything else took second place. If she felt really repulsed by the man, as a last resource she would have mothers who knew exactly how to get rid of husbands as soon as they had a son. But as of now, she only needed to know what options she had. Her mother would give her the liberty of choice. ”Thank you.” She sat down opposite her mother and to her own surprise noticed that she felt slightly nervous. Had it not been for Durant, she might have married years ago. There were some advantages to having children as early as possible. Once there was an heir, a woman had fulfilled the one duty connected to her sex, and she could move on to pursue her personal ambitions. ”I was wondering,” she said calmly though she had to concentrate a little to stay composed, ”with what families we should align ourselves. I am twenty-three now, and it might not be wise of me to put off an engagement for much longer.”

There was very little Eleanor would tolerate when it came to her daughter's husband. Everyone around knew that she was a tough person and that she didn't tolerate disrespect. The same went towards her daughter, she would not stand for her having a husband like Thaddeus had been. She had raised her daughter to be a strong and confident woman, powerful and skilled, intelligent and elegant. Most of all, in control of herself. Eleanor had always let her children know that they were purebloods, and that came with prestige and dignity, but they shouldn't let that define them. Was Eleanor not every bit as Lady as any other pureblood woman? She thought she was more so than many others, yet she hadn't let herself be defined by the demure, heterosexual norms most were subjected to. Her daughter had never been confined to the same things she was, Eleanor had always made sure she could want whatever -and whoever- she wanted, and she could have that as long as her duties were met. Eleanor herself had, after all, done her duty before permanently being with Roma. That was the way things worked. Be what you want to be, but family first. That same motto meant that she would slit a man's throat before she let him mistreat her daughter. That was a tough thing for pureblood men to live with, unfortunately.

"That is true. I'd already had both of you at your age." Eleanor nodded, looking her daughter over carefully. Strange, Loraine hadn't sat next to her. She may very well be nervous, but the topic wasn't really a sensitive one. Not in their own home. Complicated, sure, and Loraine's maturity showed by her knowingly coming to her mother for help. The political landscape was an unstable one, right now. Not only was the Death Eater's control over the country still precarious -they'd taken it, but they had to keep it, that was still to be seen- but there was internal strife between them. Nothing out in the open, of course, but nothing was ever out in the open when it came to pureblood society. There were those who sided with the Minister and his hypocritical and outrageous behaviour -not one but two halfblood wenches, and Eleanor had no doubt he'd marry this one and get her pregnant soon enough as well- and there were those who stood by tradition. Most notably, Lord Lestrange, the Yaxleys and the Rosiers. Tied to them by marriage came the Selwyns, the Burkes, the MacNairs, the Shafiqs, the Carrows and the Rowles. Those were the main traditionalist families, and the best idea would've been to marry into any of those. Then again the Selwyns, the MacNairs and the Rowles were the closest to them by blood, so that mixture would be questionable. The Rosiers might've been a choice but the oldest boy had barely come of age last year. The Yaxleys had no one young enough to be acceptable, and neither did the Carrows. The Shafiqs... maybe. If she wasn't mistaken the heir was thirty three. A ten year difference wasn't all that bad, considering the fact that it was the difference she'd had with Thaddeus. The question was wether the man would be suitable, a Death Eater he may be but wether he was a good enough man for her daughter- "Alliances are a complicated thing, darling. After all, we have our close allies, our blood, and we have those who we know we will side with. Tying directly into them would be safest, but tying too much amongst ourselves severely limits our reach. A family on the edge might be the best choice, if we pick wisely enough to not throw ourselves overboard." She looked at her nails, thinking deeply. "Then again, political advantage of a family does not an available man make. Name the ones you think might be an option."

The Malfoy heir was still available, but he was thirty seven and he had refused to openly support the regime. The Notts may once upon a time have been an option, the third son was close enough of age and Lester also had a nineteen year old, but Malcolm's involvement with Anicka Wentzell ruled out any discussion about that match. The Parkinsons had two men available yet as well, from the main line. Maybe. Melanie Burke had something of a son, though she would prefer nothing foreign. The MacGuffin boy was taken, the Travers' only acceptable one was taken, the Zabini heir was too young, the Avery boy was taken. There was the Burke heir, also nineteen, and Sebastian was far too old.  

If Loraine were completely honest with herself, the very last thing she wanted was to get married. It was instinctive, the mere idea of being tied to a man repulsed her. If it weren’t for the undying rumour concerning the first Lucius Malfoy and Elizabeth I., Loraine might even have had some respect towards the Virgin Queen. But such feelings were none Loraine allowed herself to admit. It didn’t matter what she felt. She simply had to marry. She had always known that her obligation towards society was to keep a pureblood line alive. Jules was there to pass on the Bulstrode name. She would choose a man whose line was just as important to preserve for a new generation. Nothing was of importance apart from bearing a son. And while the concept horrified Loraine (though she forbid herself to think about the horror), there was still the chance that once she had the child, she would love the little one like her mother loved her and Jules. As for the husband, she preferred not to have any ideals. Of course, she’d prefer someone who’d respect her, who’d let her live her life as it pleased her. Someone who trusted her, and whom she could trust. But it wasn’t a necessity to her. She couldn’t picture herself as loving him in any romantic sense. She wished that she’d be able to respect him, but it wasn’t important. The only condition that a potential husband had to fulfill apart from the right ancestry was his highest regards for her mothers. She was willing to deal with anything, but her mothers had to be honoured without any discussion.

Sometimes Loraine was almost ready to fling her arms around her mother and never let go. There had been times, during their confinement in Knockturn Alley, when she had wanted to give up, to just cry and be a child. But she had never done so - not even years earlier when she had been less than four and waited for her mother to return while the Warrington grandparents looked after her and her brothers. She had remained composed and dignified just like she had been taught to be. She wouldn’t have to keep all this formality for her mother, she knew that. But during the long years of hiding her true sentiments at school, it had become second nature to her to suppress her emotions. Her mother could guess when she needed support, there was no reason to become sentimental. There was nothing Loraine would want to hide from her mother apart from the things she hid from herself, hid so well that she forgot them herself. There was really no reason to admit that she was scared of marrying, she simply had to think about the practical aspects and ignore everything else.

”I have gone through the list of the Sacred Twenty-Eight,” she answered in the same tone she used for any scientific problem. ”There aren’t many options left.” The Weasleys, Longbottoms, and Shacklebolts were on that list for crying out loud. And considering what some Abbots or Macmillans or Malfoy or Slughorns had done, it was safest to consider the whole families as blood traitors - Loraine guessed that there could some leniency applied in one or the other case, but she instinctively despised all these names. Most men who came to her mind were decidedly older than herself. There was a divorced Avery in the surgical ward who Loraine respected. But as far as she could tell, he had not the least intention of getting married again. There was a Burke about who Loraine knew nothing. The Flint family would need an heir, but the age difference was very considerable. ”What would you say is the maximum age difference?” she asked thoughtfully. She had never considered age to be of importance when she went through the list of possible husbands, but it was also nothing she could evaluate. She judged people by their loyalties and nothing else. Still, the idea of marrying someone far older seemed more acceptable to her than marrying someone slightly younger. ”Who do you mean by on the edge?” she asked critically. ”I do not think that I could bear any blood traitor tendencies in a husband.” It had never occurred to her to want to marry anybody without Death Eater connections. ”I am really not sure,” she said. ”There’s… a Burke? Or what is with the Shafiqs?” As long as she was uncertain, she could be angry at herself for this reason, and everything remained vague. But she couldn’t let things be vague, that was irresponsible. And irresponsibility was something Loraine forgave no one, certainly not herself.

Eleanor genuinely didn't care for marriage. It was why she'd never regretted the fact that she and Roma had never legally gotten married; the entire institution was, to her, merely a system to ensure and enforce ownership. Not just over women, even though it very much did traditionally mean practically owning a woman -especially in an arranged marriage- the woman was not the main subject of the marriage. The subject was her womb, the child she could produce. More importantly, the son, who would serve to ensure the social and financial safety of the family. For some people, love might be an option. Even for purebloods, at a certain age or at a second or third marriage, love did play a part. If the subjects were lucky, they would fall in love eventually. The point of the union was never emotional, however, the man and woman's feelings had no importance. It was blood and politics and responsibility for their family's wellbeing. It was why she wanted to trust her children to chose for themselves. Love and marriage should never be confused, and she was afraid her son had done so. Her daughter, however, was approaching her future marriage in a clinical fashion. Carefully analysing her options and what was best for them as a whole. She trusted Loraine to make the right choice, to consult her before making a final decision, lest there be something she overlooked. Her daughter was patient, intelligent, successful, confident, lethal. Traditional pureblood men wouldn't be too fond of her, but that was all right. She wouldn't wish such a man on her daughter no matter what his name was.

"I had ten years' difference with your father. It's not uncommon, but considering what kind of man that generation would give you, I'd say ten years older is the largest. Do not limit yourself to older, however. Who says the man cannot be younger than the woman? There's plenty of eligible men who're younger than you, and they're likely to be raised in a more modern mindset towards the treatment of women." Eleanor sighed, reaching out to gently tuck a lock of Loraine's hair behind her ear. She was proud of her daughter, so proud. A strong young lady, intelligent and confident. Sometimes she felt a bit sad that she would so easily settle for a marriage that she would not fall in love in. After all, Eleanor loved Roma with all her heart. The ideal would be for Loraine to at least get along and be fond of whoever it ended up being, but knowing her daughter... she had never been particularly warm or sentimental. Analytical and efficient in all she did, a survivor, strong and not someone to take lightly. Eleanor had raised Loraine to be the woman she would need to be in this world. The one that had taken everything from them, the one that would continue to try to push her down for being a woman with self worth. No, Eleanor hadn't taught her to love, she'd taught her to survive. One did not exclude the other, however, and one day -maybe- Loraine would find the right person. Like Eleanor, however, her duty came first. "People can be led towards the right path, but I do not think we are the right people for that. Such gentility is not strictly in our nature." She leaned back against the couch once more, taking her daughter's hand between both of her own. She had always been a tactile person, when it came to her children. When she was around there had never been a lack of hugs or caresses. While cold propriety was they go-to in public, privately she had always been very gentle. "From what I hear, that Burke has his eyes set on Pansy Parkinson. As for the Shafiqs... maybe. A positive match, close enough for the marriage to be safe. They have only a few of an appropriate age, but from what I know Heydar has always wanted his girls to be more traditional. You could meet one of the candidates, if you wished."

There were few things that made Loraine nervous. She was in control all the time. Before making a decision, she always calculated everything through until there was no uncertainty left. Unfortunately, absolute certainty was very rarely achieved. And when it came to thinking about her marital future, she felt unqualified, and she was not at all used to that sensation. It was all the worse because the choice of a husband was among the most important decisions in her life even though she was anything but looking forward to making it. But she couldn’t postpone the decision, that was not something she did. She needed to enter into an engagement. The marriage could wait for a couple of years, but there had to be a fiancé. Otherwise, if she wasn’t connected to someone respectable, rumours might start, and if there was something Loraine couldn’t stand about pureblood society, it was how prone everybody was to gossip. She needed to get this over with in the right way, especially after Jules’ escapade. He would, of course, in the end do the right thing, but his infatuation was still grating on everybody’s nerves. If Jules needed an example how to go about an engagement, then she was willing to be that example.

”Younger?” she repeated slowly. When she had thought about a husband, the possibility that her husband might be many years older than herself had not bothered her. She felt that she would marry a seventy-year old as long as he had a proper name and views, and need for an heir. But she had automatically excluded anyone her junior. ”But not younger than Jules, that would be…” She couldn’t marry anyone who was younger than her brother, that would be embarrassing. Still, embarrassment was not an argument. She couldn’t allow herself to exclude options just because she worried about Jules’ reaction - not that Jules would criticize something that their mother had sanctioned. But one immature mind to deal with seemed like enough to Loraine. Though, age had nothing to do with maturity of mind. And her mother had a point. ”There would be advantages to a younger husband… a much older one might only view me as a child, but one who is a few years younger might look up to me. I think I was considered very unapproachable at school. Who is there? Evan is out of the question, we are too closely related.” And he was younger than Jules. But that was not an argument, she needed to be objective about this problem. There was Corwin Slughorn, who was roughly the same age, but his name showed that he was absolutely unsuitable. Also, knowing the Slughorns, these cowards would never take a side, and marrying Loraine Bulstrode was a clear political statement.

Loraine nodded. It surprised her a little that a man without children would consider marrying Pansy Parkinson. She didn’t have any children from her first marriage, it seemed like an unnecessary risk. But then, didn’t the older Burke already have a son to carry on the name? And the Parkinsons were certainly a good alliance. She almost sniggered as she thought for a split second about marrying Uncle Fer and then felt disgusted at herself. Sure, he was not related by blood, but he was still as good as family. The only sicker option would be to marry Ivan. ”It will be necessary to meet as many suitable options as possible,” she answered. Her mother was right, the Shafiqs were said to be rather conservative. ”It wouldn’t be wise to choose someone without getting to know him first. I don’t want to end as some housewitch birthing machine.” And she was fortunate to have parents, who agreed with this. Of course, she would have children, at least a son. It couldn’t be that difficult, uncomfortable but not difficult. But once she had fulfilled this duty, she wanted to play another part in society. Her mothers’ generation would grow old, and then they needed new faces to lead their cause. Because the fighting never stopped. Because there were always some who didn’t know their place. And Loraine intended to be at the forefront once the task was handed down to her peers. A husband who locked her away had no place in that future. It would be by far preferable to have a husband who fought beside her than one she’d have to put to a premature death. She didn’t want to waste pure blood unless it was absolutely necessary.

Hypocrisy was something Eleanor had tried to avoid, but she hadn't much succeeded. They all knew this. Despised traitors, but would she put her children at risk when the time came? Likely not. She wanted freedom for her children, but would she allow them to escape their duties? Also not. She was loyal to the cause, but would she stick by Ares Wentzell should something arise elsewhere in the Death Eater movement? Definitely not. Out of the question. Her life was full of contradictions between what she did and what she said, so the age old instruction given by parents do as I say, not as I do turned out to be correct even here. She'd be bothered by it if it weren't for the fact that there was nothing she could do to change it. No matter what she tried, things ended up changing and going onto paths that she did not completely appreciate. Like this. Eleanor would be more bothered if Loraine had seemed to mind, but her daughter was not particularly centred around romance, she had found. That was just as well, if she fell in love in the future... well, she knew that her family would support her. If only to solve things the way she and Roma had solved them.

"Would be what? I was younger than all of your father's siblings when we married, you know. Not that he should be an example of anything, but anyhow... If the boy is of age then he is eligible. There's fifteen year old girls that are engaged. Boys that age are a bit too young, though, I don't condone engagement at that age for anyone at all." She waved her hand, thinking. Drawing her wand, she summoned two glasses of firewhiskey and took a sip of her own, holding the other out to her daughter. Now that she thought about it, there were quite a few boys that were eligible. There was the Rosier heir, there's the Burke heir, a Yaxley boy, the Nott boy... those were the ones she could name off the top of her head. Good enough for now, there were more to be considered, she was sure. It'd take a couple of days to come up with all of the candidates, but she was sure that if she talked to Fernando they could also consider Van Parkinson an option. Her close friend swore that he would be named heir instead of his older brother. "Lester Nott's first boy, Carlisle's oldest, Charlotte's boy, too. I suppose that the Yaxley boy is also an option but he's not the heir now that Davina is pregnant. I'd have to see for more options, but these are the most acceptable ones. I suppose Rabastan Lestrange also needs a wife but I'd rather set this place on fire than hand you over to that man."

She hummed, swirling her glass around and watching the golden liquid move. Then she took another sip and felt it go down her throat, burning. Merlin and Morgana, she really ought to talk about this with Roma, first. Knowing Ivan, however, the boy wouldn't take his head out of his books long enough to even notice his own wedding, let alone care. Darling boy. "A long engagement would be best, particularly in the current climate. Weddings are one of two things: politics in peace times, or alliances in war times. We are currently in neither, it is best to engage you and watch it all develop. A tentative alliance should it be needed, a political bond that can easily be severed should it turn out to be unwise. A delicate matter, especially with the mothers you have, Loraine. Ares Wentzell might be foolish enough to believe that Thaddeus died of his own accord but be assured that most local purebloods think like us. It is very clear to them what happened." She chuckled and waved for the whiskey decanter, watching it come closer and holding out her glass to let it be refilled. "Believe me, my darling. That is the last thing you'll end up as. Sooner a widow than that. I would see to it myself, even."

The whole discussion was far more bearable when discussed as coolly as a case in surgery. Surgery was an exact art that made you mentally separate the person and the body part you were cutting up. In the same fashion, she needed to deal with the whole engagement thing - as a separate part from her human self. That might get problematic with time, but for now, Loraine considered that it was the best way to deal with the whole problem. ”Yes, I know mother,” she said. ”It’s just that, traditionally, the other way around is more common, so I was surprised for a moment. I half saw myself as my husband’s babysitter. But physical age doesn’t mean that much - there are men who don’t mature all their lives.” She only had to look at the difference between her two brothers. They were not far apart in age, but while Ivan was a grown-up man, Jules was still a baby. Or at least immature. Calling him a baby was something she only did to herself - not that she would let any Tom, Dick, or Harry call her brother immature either. ”Minors shouldn’t be already engaged,” she agreed while taking the drink from her mother with a smile. ”Not before they have been able to make their first few steps into society. Admittedly, they were trying to destroy our society when I was that age, so engagements were a vain thought anyway.” She took a sip from her glass and for the first time since she had entered the room relaxed a bit. Nothing made her feel safer than - or maybe nothing made her feel safe but - her mother, no matter what was troubling her.

”Rabastan Lestrange has quite a history to be sure,” said Loraine, holding her drink against the light with an amused look. He was a man of great merit, she'd never deny that. But then he was also one whose merit was best admired from a certain distance. ”The Lestranges have two heirs now. There seems little reason why I should marry him in the first place.” She leant back to think over the names her mother had brought up. ”You think the Notts are not affected as a whole by one’s… relationship,” she said slowly. Lester Nott was Malcolm Nott's brother after all. But then Lester was the oldest, and he had done nothing reproachful as far as she knew. ”That’s Ophion Nott, right? He is studying at the moment if I’m not mistaken…” Yes, her mother was right, it would be an option. ”And the Rosier is the one who just started at the hospital?” She knew him from sight, and she hadn’t observed anything wrong with him. Though the age difference was rather glaring; he had just left school. On the other hand, he had decided to be a Healer, which wasn’t that bad. Something they had in common. Marriages were supposed to be happier if there was some common denominator. Or at least she supposed that it would be like that. Plus, Aunt Lucinda was a Rosier, so he was part of the extended family. Not by blood (though if they went back a few generations, they would definitely find a common ancestor), but by marriage. It was always wise to strengthen such bonds. But then there were these rumours. Normally she wouldn’t pay attention to them, but in this case they were too loud and persevering to be ignored. Could Carlisle Rosier really divorce his wife? His wife who had born him children. For someone else. It had the potential to be a huge scandal, and that was something in which Loraine didn’t wished to see herself involved. ”Don’t you think that there will be bad blood between the Rosiers and the Burkes?” She asked cautiously. ”At least if things really play out as some say they would. Maybe the Burkes would be safer. Though it could also be taken as an affront by the Rosiers, depending on how heated things get. Maybe it would be more prudent to stay away from the conflict completely.” Though there wouldn’t be that many left if she wanted to avoid anything resembling gossip. Every family had their dark secrets, her own was anything not but an exception.

She nodded to her mother’s words, hiding her relief at the prospect of a long engagement. She shouldn’t feel so happy about the delay. It was her duty to give birth to a son, there was no reason for any sentimentality - for any sort of emotions at all. ”Do you think that some families will avoid us because…” she said, pressing her lips together for a moment. This was not something she usually regarded from a critical point of view. ”… because they might fear that their sons would…” She wasn’t used to viewing her family dynamics from an outsider’s perspective, but trying to do so, she couldn’t rule out that her mothers’ husbands’ fate might discourage some from considering her a suitable match.

”Mother…” She put down her glass and stood up, crossing the short distance between them and lightly putting her arms around her, careful not to spill anything from the glass her mother held. Drawing back and returning to her seat, she said, ”I am singularly fortunate to call you my mother.” No matter in what family she’d marry into, she wouldn’t lose her mother, and that was the comforting thought she needed right now.