WHO: Jacqueline Wilkes and Hortense Greengrass WHAT: A theatre outing! WHEN: January 26th 1980 WHERE: Artemis Theatre (name chosen just for the sake of the theatre having a name - let me know if there are problems and it should be changed) RATING: PG STATUS: Complete
Though Balazs’s drama was received with much enthusiasm and superior publicity, alone, it did not account for Hortense’s anticipation. Frankly, she was quite convinced that her attention would be much more inclined to her company tonight rather than the play. Despite the frequency of their encounters this week alone, Hortense found little time for a private conversation with Jacqueline and a private suite at the renowned Artemis theatre was a prime setting, indeed. A simple muffling charm of sorts and both their privacy and others’ enjoyment could easily be secured.
With that thought, Hortense remembered to snatch her wand from her vanity table before exiting her quarters, fastening buttons as she glided down the staircase and out the main entrance before she Disapparated from the frost blanketed grounds.
Hortense appeared in the illustrious foyer of the Artemis with a small Pop!. She lingered momentarily to appraise the elegant atmosphere; her eyes swept over the crowd for familiar faces and she began to manoeuvre through the masses as quickly as she could. Despite her hastiness, Hortense did not forget to exercise her manners and she uttered pardons courteously as she cut a path for the main stairwell, where she had agreed to meet with her companion.
Hortense came to a halt at the bottom step of the grand staircase. She wheeled around slowly, still fully enveloped by her heavy outerwear, and looked back out to the foyer expectantly. Occasionally, she would raise herself up on the balls of her feet, neck craned and chin raised, in hopes of spotting her dear friend’s blond head in the sea of patricians.
Afraid she was running late, Jacqueline attempted to fasten an earring and her cloak at the same time as she ran down the stairs, diverting for a moment to pop into the sitting room and kiss her mother and father on the cheeks before Disapparating and re-appearing in the theatre foyer. She was so excited she had to school her steps to keep from running, eager to see her friend and to have a conversation uninterrupted by anyone else.
Cutting a path through the crowded lobby, she unfastened the collar of her crimson cloak and drew it off her shoulders, folding it neatly over her arm to reveal the simple, dark green dress she wore underneath. She made a direct path to the stairway, trying to crane her neck as politely as she could to see over the heads of much taller people to catch sight of her friend. "Hortense!" she called, when she finally spotted her.
Upon hearing her name, Hortense promptly turned her head in the direction of the sound and a bright smile overwhelmed her face as she found Jacqueline. Likewise, she began to undo her buttons nimbly and reached out to embrace Jacqueline happily once she reached their rendezvous point. “I’m glad you made it,” she breathed, “I was certain I was running late.” She shrugged out of her cloak and threw it over the crook in her elbow. “Shall we?”
Hortense began to climb the stairs alongside Jacqueline. “Did you enjoy yourself at the Gibbon’s dinner last night?” she asked. Upon reaching the top of the stairwell, they found that there were two directions in which they could turn and without missing a beat, Hortense nodded to the left, “It’s only a short way from this point,” she murmured and led Jacqueline through the corridor knowledgeably.
She embraced her friend gladly, clearly thrilled to see her. Turning toward the staircase, she linked arms with Hortense and let herself be led. "I did. It was very interesting, sitting with Mr. Macnair in public. It made everything feel more real." With her free hand, she spread her fingers in a gesture of encompassing the future. "I like that we're able to talk to one another."
Turning toward the left, she nodded at the murmured direction and kept pace. "And you? What were your impressions of the evening?"
“It was for me too,” she candidly voiced, “to see you sitting with your fiancé! Very surreal, I can‘t lie,” she shook her head and laughed airily. They were now approaching a luxurious mahogany door and situated by the door, a portly and seemingly self-important man awaited them. Hortense stepped forward and in a quick exhange and, as was made apparent as the man nodded and graciously opened the door, verified their right to the suite for the evening.
Prior to entering, Hortense took Jacqueline‘s cloak from her arm and handed both Jacqueline‘s and her own over to the attendant. “I am very happy to hear that he is well suited to you.” With a mock-sly smile, Hortense nudged Jacqueline, “You have met him privately then, I take it?”
“I found it very enjoyable, too,” she nodded and then in a lower tone, meant to convey the secrecy with which she handled the comment rather than to ensure no one heard her, added, “It was a little strange though that I was not seated directly with my family.” She ventured a sidelong glance at Jacqueline, searching her face for a premature sign of her opinion on the subject.
She was (internally) suitably impressed with the luxury of having a private box, something her family could never have afforded, and she had only enjoyed as a guest of others. She was careful to keep her expression schooled, thanking Hortense when she handed off her cloak and then focused her full attention on her friend. "Yes, if you can count having dinner in a public restaurant and then going for a walk on a public street private. Don't you start acting scandalized too, Hortense! I could on you to be reasonable."
Tilting her head at the glance, she cocked an eyebrow and leaned her head forward, creating a conspiratory space. "Perhaps you were seated with what someone hopes is your future family." She said, trying not to let jealousy invade her thoughts. She and Ferdinand were as over as the Roman empire. She had no right to be jealous, and if she could marry him off to anyone, Hortense would be her choice.
Hortense laughed and took her seat, adjusting her dress as she did. “Hardly,” she dismissed Jacqueline’s concern with a hand. “I hope you are not offended when I say that all the interest surrounding your engagement to Mr Macnair has expired.” She threw Jacqueline a sardonically sympathetic look and patted her hand consolingly for effect. She continue in a supportive (and more earnest tone), “Besides, it’s vital that you spend some time with him prior to the wedding away from prying eyes and influence.”
And speaking of prying eyes, she found it very difficult to form an impression of Ferdinand with her parents so near by. Hortense glanced down into her lap as Jacqueline expressed her thoughts. “I know I am… a little above the suitable age for marriage,” she admitted clumsily and looked at Jacqueline once more, “but last night I could practically feel my mother’s scorn.” Whereas her mother overlooked Hortense’s age and focused on blood purity, her father seemed a bit more resigned. “I would normally be slightly reluctant to admit this but,” she paused to extract her wand from the purse resting in her lap and cast some muffling charms on the suite. She placed her wand back in the purse and reached to tug at some locks at the nape of her neck, “I agree with my mother. He is a full blood and women are expected to marry up in society. ” She decided to neglect that women were also expected to already be married (or at least have a suitor) by age twenty-three in society this time.
She sat beside her, her hands busying themselves for a moment with arranging her dress so that her skirt draped attractively over her legs. Waiting for her to cast the charm, she nodded and managed a smile. "Hortense, I can say without reservation that this is the happiest news you have ever delivered me." She rolled her eyes at the mocking pat of her hand, she continued. "I agree. He's a lot more...tense around all those people. It was easier to talk to him when it didn't feel like every eye in the room was sizing us up."
She murmured a denial at the statement about Hortense's age, for really, she wasn't so much older than Jacqueline and could hardly be called a spinster yet. If she married in the next year or so, everything would still be on track. It was hard to defend Ferdinand against the same doubts she herself had held, but she felt compelled to do so anyway. "He is, and that is unfortunate, but he is also loyal and kind, and quite charming. And you would live quite comfortably with him, and your children would be pure, which is what is important."
Hortense considered Jacqueline’s words, humming and nodding occasionally to communicate her agreement or approval of her friend’s assessment of the situation. “Mireille is a lovely girl and I enjoy her company. And you seem to know him somewhat so I could not cast any doubts that Ferdinand is very upstanding but I’m still so hesitant. You can understand though?” she chewed at the inside of her lip subconsciously and caught herself shortly after. After a brief silence, Hortense produced a sound that seemed to be a laugh caught in a scoff - or the other way around. In any case, she looked at Jacqueline with amusement painted on her face quite clearly. “Imagine though, I think of my other “choices” and the only I can think of is Gaius Travers - the man who’s managed to disturb Mrs Lestrange with his comments. That alone speaks volumes: he is either touched in the head or incredibly thick.”
"Mireille is as dear to me as you yourself are. I can understand your hesitation, of course, but I also think a family that has produced two fine children such as they can only be commended, even if their blood lacks." She didn't elaborate on exactly how well she knew Ferdinand, though she still had an ugly twist of something akin to jealousy in the pit of her stomach. She would not focus on it, and it would fade. "Gaius Travers is a singular example of all of the worst parts of our society, bundled together into an unintelligent, uncouth package. He is quite the opposite of Ferdinand--rude, insubordinant, unintelligent, and boorish, with only his blood to recommend him.”
She had forgotten how much she truly enjoyed Jacqueline’s company for at her comments on Mr Travers, Hortense dissolved into a fit of laughter and internally commended herself for remembering to cast the appropriate privacy charms. She had forgotten how acerbic Jacqueline’s words could be and tonight, they were especially unmerciful towards Mr Travers. She supposed, however, that it could have been worse but that it would call for serious obscenities. “He does sound to be quite the opposite,” Hortense agreed enthusiastically. “Perhaps I will simply flee the country and report to you of my marriage to a foreign toff but secretly, live alone on some deserted tropical island, planting flowers and trees for the rest of my lonesome days - all to escape the shame I could have brought on my family by becoming the Greengrass spinster.” Poor Jacqueline, surely she had thought the theatrics would be witnessed on stage only tonight.
She was glad to hear her friend laugh, happy that there was at least one person in her life who enjoyed her acid tongue and wouldn't reprimand her like a naughty child for it. At the dramatic picture she painted, she rolled her eyes and pressed a hand to her heart. "You are being ridiculous. If your parents object, surely they would rather you marry someone suitable who happens to be a fullblood than live with them for the rest of your life or run off to lands unknown to garden? We are supposed to be about perpetuating our society now. That is supposed to be our focus. People making a fuss about a marriage between two well-suited people who will have pureblooded children is about a legitimate as people whispering that I am some kind of scarlet woman because my father wanted to see my future settled after his ordeal in prison and what happened to my sisters."
Hortense smiled widely at Jacqueline’s reaction to her melodramatic vision of her future; it was humorous to be called ridiculous and be put in her place by someone younger than her. The easiness with which her criticism was offered made Hortense all the more comfortable. While some of her friends might have been offended by such honesty, Hortense did not feel as if Jacqueline was not looking to come across as her superior. She appreciated Jacqueline’s ability to speak candidly to her and felt that their ability to address one another honestly strengthened their friendship.
“I suppose you are right,” she acknowledged, her lips turned into a frown at the mention of the Wilkes family and their various hardships that past year. She nearly added that there was nothing to worry about until she had been formally approached but decided against voicing that ironic concern when, in actuality, she should be more concerned about not being approached. Several weeks ago (she recalled her fretful journal entry) that was the greater concern. And with those thoughts still bouncing around in her head, the lights dimmed and the chatter below them waned slowly.
Jacqueline too appreciated that Hortense wasn't offended by her honesty. It was difficult for her at times, when it seemed like every word she said was probed for hidden meaning, when even the things she considered the most innocuous stirred controversy. There was no society dictate that said she wasn't allowed to be honest with what she was thinking, and the way some people clung to Victorian morality constantly irked her. She was hardly what any would call a Progressive, but she did believe that this ideal of a simpering, thoughtless wet blanket of a woman needed to be done away with, and quickly.
"I am always right." She said with a smile that said she was joking, raising an amused eyebrow as the theatre began to quiet down. She was loathe to end their conversation but would be quiet if Hortense was eager to watch the play.
Her experience with two elder brothers and a younger sister had cultivated Hortense’s ability to handle different personalities and she learned, above all, to consider someone’s experiences and nature before dismissing them. Well, unless they were of impure blood; they were not deserving of a chance in that case. Had Jacqueline’s words come from another mouth, perhaps Hortense would have reacted to them differently.
“Well I hope you are,” she whispered and smacked herself mentally when she realized that the wards were still in place. Amusement pervaded her tone as she continued levelly, “otherwise I’d have you to blame for devastating my future. I cannot imagine how I would live knowing I had led my dear friend into a catastrophic situation.” She surprised herself as morbid notions of a sadistic, blood-thirsty husband entered her mind. Surely Jacqueline’s judgment could not be that wide of the mark. And there was still the matter of her parents’ approval and unlike Jacqueline, they were not always prone to logic over pride and honour.
She brushed her hair behind her ear, nodding her ascent to a silent agreement she made with herself. "I would not lead you astray on this. To be truthful, Ferdinand and I were close before my father's return--he was very sweet to me, and supportive, and I thought I might consider him a candidate for marriage before my father made the agreement with Mr. Macnair. I feel like I know him beyond the usual veneer of society, and I can assure you that he is a lovely person." That was a palatable version of the truth. "If nothing else, he certainly won't balk at you remaining as you are, and not try to subdue you into a wishy-washy version of yourself."
Hortense’s brow furrowed briefly when Jacqueline disclosed this particular detail about her friendship with Ferdinand. “Oh, I didn’t know that. I suppose there is no reason not to trust you then.” She offered her a smile that she hoped would compensate for her brief statement. “I apologize,” she added suddenly and shook her head as if to reprimand herself, “if that seemed rather detached but I was just surprised. I would never have guessed that you were close!” Hortense did not want Jacqueline wondering whether she was formulating some sort of judgment from what she confided in her. Likewise, she did not know if she should extend a condolence of sorts that she did not have a chance to consider him but she did not know how deeply Jacqueline felt toward Ferdinand and chose not to pry or offer any more thoughts on the subject.
She observed her friend's face closely, watching for any sign of judgement at this revelation. Seeing none, she relaxed visibly, glad to be sure once again that she could trust Hortense not to look down on her actions. She traced the elaborate carving on the arm rest of the chair with one finger, apparently deep in thought as she spoke. "We were close, I suppose. As close as anyone in our circumstance could be. I am happy, though, with the way my life has turned out, and I don't begrudge you any possible match with him."
“Naturally,” Hortense murmured with a firm nod. With or without Walden Macnair in the picture, in their society, it was not an easy task to establish a close relationship with a man and she thought it wise on Jacqueline’s part to keep her friendship with Ferdinand Gibbon discreet. Hortense could not have imagined the turn rumours would have taken had the friendship been observable. She turned to Jacqueline with a smile, “Well, if anything comes of it, thank you for your blessing.”
Hortense wanted Jacqueline’s logics and advice to be enough for her to reconsider entirely. Regrettably, she was not prone to being persuaded based on logic alone and Hortense knew this would weigh on her mind for some time. Perhaps she should speak with her sister, as well. Persephone could be trusted beyond the shadow of a doubt and her insight would be most valuable. She knew Hortense better than anyone and obviously she knew her family and their mode of operation just as well.
"Is there anything else on your mind?" She asked, leaning forward. Hortense looked so intent that she wanted to be sure everything that needed to be said came out. If her friend needed someone to confide in, she wanted to be sure that she felt comfortable doing it.
“Plenty,” she laughed mirthlessly before turning to Jacqueline, her expression earnest, “but who knows? Perhaps I am making too much of nothing. And this evening is not only about me,” she added in an apologetic tone, “you said yourself that you were looking to put the wedding plans on pause for one night; I shouldn’t be burdening you with my preconceived worries. Now,” she took on a more demanding tone (which was rather uncharacteristic of Hortense), “we will enjoy this evening and there will be no more talk of men and our futures. We will keep the wards up though because I am not sure if I will be acting my age for the rest of this outing.”
She laughed heartily at that, both the statement and Hortense's imperious tone. Leaning back in her chair, she shook her head and surveyed the audience, which was now silent and tense with anticipation for the beginning of the play. "I am glad, because I have exhausted my knowledge of men and any further discussion would be mere speculation. Perhaps we can go out again in a month, when I have disgusting habits of my husband to dislike."
Hortense laughed and shook her head incredulously. “In only a month? I should hope not.” She turned toward Jacqueline, her head angled inquisitively, “Shouldn’t those habits still be adorable a month in? Six months, that’s when I will agree to have an outing of that sort.” It was then that the crimson curtains were drawn and Hortense’s attention was momentarily diverted to the center of the stage. She threw Jacqueline a sidelong glance and deviously added, “And perhaps then I shall have my own husband to complain about.”
"Fine, I promise I will find everything about him adorable for six months." She too found herself watching the action on stage, eyebrow cocked as she took in a particularly rotund actor lumbering about in a much too-tight toga. Wrinkling her nose, she looked back at her friend. "Let's hope it's not him."
“Why Jacqueline!” Hortense breathed, sounding absolutely appalled by her display of repulsion. “I am shocked that you would dismiss this man so easily - he could be a lovely person for all we know! He could be just…” she faltered; her eyes were on the actor and there was little she could think of besides this man’s jelly-like appearance, “well, I for one like my men… globular.” Her lips curled into her mouth as she suppressed a laugh at this man’s unfortunate appearance. “I hope he has a very insignificant role in this production.”
She bit back a most unladylike bark of laughter. "Afraid you won't be able to stop yourself from declaring your love for him?"
Hortense’s hands flew to her heart and she tilted her head to the heavens, swooning, “I am simply bursting to scream out my undying love for him. Quick,” she pretended to appear frenzied, “where is my wand? I must do away with this privacy wards at once. He must know - do you think he will accept my love? I can only imagine how many women are vying for his attention. Perhaps I shall wait until after the play - no, I’ll be trampled by the masses rushing forth for even a glance from this God.”
This time she had to clap her hand over her mouth to keep quiet, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Wiping away a tear, she pressed a hand to her chest to try and calm herself. "Hortense, you simply must give him a sign of your affection. A country house, perhaps?"
“There is nothing I wouldn’t give him, Jacqueline,” her eyes, still fixed on this distinguished actor, widened seriously. It only took a glance in Jacqueline’s direction for Hortense to abandon the ruse and join her in a fit of laughter. What could have overwhelmed her on this night? She was not known for her theatrical, entertaining side but rather for her quiet disposition and cultured manners. If anyone did witness this side to her, it was her siblings and dorm mates in Hogwarts but that was long ago and infrequent. On the other hand, she did promise she wouldn’t act her age for the rest of their evening.
She reached out, resting her hand on her friend’s arm, her fingers squeezing lightly in a vain attempt to get her to stop as she bent double from laughing, her free hand clutching her side. She was literally laughing so hard it hurt, and she was beyond speech. Hortense may not let her cut-up side out too often, but when she did it made the wait worth it.
Hortense, too, wondered why she disallowed herself from being silly from time to time. Worries were swept out of her head the more she laughed; the only thought still lingering in her mind was a mental note to drag herself (and Jacqueline!) out more often for a night of unabashed silliness.