phillipa flint (pippips) wrote in reduxpitch, @ 2016-08-13 21:55:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, character: phillipa flint |
who: phillipa flint & molly weasley
where: the burrow
when: 13 august, evening
what: a meeting at a party
rating: a for awkward
status: complete
A break away from the beach paradise she'd been living in wasn't something she particularly wanted, but Phillipa wasn't about to skip out on what was a party for both her brother’s birthday and his engagement. She was wary - not because of anything to do with the engagement, but because she had no idea who all would be at the party. Ginny’s full family, obviously, who she didn't know but she knew there were a lot of them. Family gatherings were notoriously bad in her experience, but she also knew Ginny liked her parents. And more than once had mentioned the potential of her mother being nice and… motherly toward Phillipa. And even mentioned her mother was looking forward to seeing her. Phillipa had no idea why. She apparated to the address provided, taking in the house as she walked up toward it. Flint Manor was elegant, massive, stately, and the Burrow looked hodge podge but certainly more welcoming than her own family’s home ever was. There was nothing intimidating about it. Walking up to the door, Phillipa knocked sharply, sure there was plenty going on inside already that might be hard to hear over. -- Marcus and Ginny had provided much of the food, but Molly couldn't not cook something for her daughter's birthday or engagement party. The thought of her youngest, her only girl, getting married had her all aflutter. She was happy, of course. Marcus was a nice young man. He'd made the effort to ask for her and Arthur's blessing, though it was, most assuredly, Ginny's choice. He made her girl happy. That's what mattered most to Molly Weasley. So she was working on something special for the party. It wasn't anything fancy, but pancakes had been the first meal Marcus had in the Burrow. Molly knew it was sentimental, but they would have to forgive a mother for being so when her baby was engaged. And turning twenty-one. She was leaning against the counter, overcome briefly by happiness and nostalgia, when the knock sounded at the door. Must be one of Marcus' side, she thought as she straightened her apron. Molly bustled to the door and opened it, already smiling broadly. The young woman who stood on the other side had lovely dark hair and looked quite posh. "You must be Phillipa. Do come in. I'm Molly, Ginny's mum." She started to hug Marcus' sister, but stopped herself. She'd been warned to go slow with the younger Flints. "Everyone's in the back, but I can make you a nice, fortifying cuppa before you head out. I'm afraid it's quite the crowd. Not that I'm surprised," she returned to the stove and flipped the cakes in the griddle at the exact right moment. "My children don't know how to do anything small." -- The woman who answered the door was exactly the opposite of Phillipa’s mother. She was smiling and seemed pleasant, and Phillipa was so startled by the movement she made to hug her that she didn’t stiffen up, despite Molly stopping herself before going through with it. Letting out a slow exhale, she stepped inside the house, offering Molly a tentative smile. “Yes, thank you,” she said, absently glancing around the kitchen before looking back to where Molly was, and what she was doing. “Ginny told me you made good pancakes - Marcus liked them.” She bit the inside of her lip, looking down at them. “A crowd’s to be expected for something like this, I think.” -- With a flick of her wrist, the kettle on the back of the stove filled with water and began to heat. She continued making pancakes with one hand and floated a tea cup, saucer, sugar, and milk to the table. "I let Marcus talk me out of my recipe," she tittered, sliding one of the fresh pancakes onto a plate and setting it by the tea things. "Not that it was as much a secret as I let him believe. A woman does like to be flattered by a young man every now and then, even if it is just over her pancakes." Molly laughed and took the kettle from the stove just as it began to whistle. She plopped a teabag into the cup, pouring hot water over it before it settled at the bottom and turned back to the stove. Molly, multitasking in her kitchen, was as graceful as any ballet dancer. "I was assured it would be family and a few close friends, but then Ginny started agreeing to significant others and plus ones, and Arthur had the thought that we ought to invite our old friends since our only girl is getting married, and now we have a right shindig." She paused for a minute and realized she hadn't given Phillipa any utensils. Deftly, she plucked a fork, knife, and spoon from the cutlery drawer with her magic and set them on the table. "There's plenty of food out there, of course, but these are best when hot." -- Phillipa wasn't sure she'd ever experienced anything quite like this. She wasn't sure her mother had ever set foot in their kitchen to do much other than snap at the house elves working there, and had definitely never made her tea. Or pancakes. Her gaze followed everything as it moved around to the table, not sure if she should sit or… well she wasn't sure what the other option was. But there wasn't anyone else there but them, and she wasn't sure which was more concerning - being alone with Ginny’s mother or going outside where there was a right shindig going on full of people she didn't know. “Thank you,” she said automatically as she moved over to take a seat at the table. She fixed her tea quietly, letting her eyes stay focused on it for lack of knowing where else to look. -- With Phillipa's head down, Molly was able to watch her, a slight frown between her brow. She had been warned about Marcus' parents, but she had a hard time imagining anyone not wanting to hug their own children. She tsked quietly to herself before returning to the stove to finish the pancakes. "Ginny said you were recently in New Orleans, and that you were off on another grand holiday. I haven't done a lot of travelling myself." She smiled at the young woman as she sat down with her own cup of tea. "But I hear parts of the States are lovely. Did you enjoy yourself?" -- At the mention of her trips, Phillipa glanced up and watched Molly move over to sit across from her. “I was, it was my first time there,” she said, absently stirring her tea. “It was a lot of fun. I've been to New York before, for work, but not much anywhere else in the States.” She paused, smiling softly. “And now Belize. It's a nice break, relaxing and peaceful. I'm here for this but then going back again, which will be nice.” Being away from anywhere people knew her or expected things from her was as nice as the beach itself. She'd had more interruptions than she'd expected, but at least none of them had been for something bad. “I would recommend going to either - they're both lovely in their own ways.” -- Molly smiled. "Perhaps, one day," she replied. She wanted to travel, but she loved her home, and she hated the thought of leaving it empty if one of her children needed her. "Three years from now, Arthur and I will have been married for thirty-five years. Perhaps then." She reached over and pat Phillipa's hand. "It's lovely that you are able to travel and have adventures in your youth. Embrace that, love, with both hands." There was a crash from the garden, and Molly was up quicker than her age should have allowed, looking out the window for what was broken. When there wasn't an immediate sign of damage or injury, she sighed. "With Fred and George for sons, you'd think I would be used to such sounds," she said, laughing as she turned to face her young guest. -- Phillipa looked quickly toward where the sound came from, briefly distracted from the way the older woman had been patting her hand, and how she'd called herlove like it was some normal thing. She lifted her teacup to take a slow sip, watching her attention turn back to the room rather than what was outside. “They're the ones with the shop, right?” She didn't know much about the Weasley family, but she had lived in Diagon Alley for a time, and with her own business in Knockturn she was aware of the nearby businesses. “And you should definitely take a trip somewhere for your anniversary. Even if it's someplace small or not so far away.” -- Molly rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, sighed as if exasperated, and nodded. "That's them, Godric help us. At least they've their own space to blow up these days. The number of small catastrophes that came from their room while they were growing." She shook her head, tsking fondly at the memories of her sons' shenanigans. "We will see." She would speak to Arthur about it and see what he thought. "What is it you do? You mentioned going to New York for work." -- Phillipa took another sip of her tea with a smile, taking in the fond way Molly spoke about her sons. She couldn't imagine what might have happened if she or Marcus or Lucas had blown something up at the manor. Disaster, most likely. “I write for Witch Weekly,” she said as she set down her teacup, letting her hands fold loosely in her lap. “About fashion. So I sometimes travel to cover fashion week when it happens in various places… I did Paris this past spring and probably will go around in the fall to somewhere, though I wouldn't know where until they tell me.” -- "I will have to read the publication, then. I'm afraid I stopped reading it and the Prophet when they began targeting Ginny for their gossip. But I will look for your writing." Molly would, too. She wasn't very up to date with fashions, and she much preferred the robes that she had always worn. Her daughter had, on occasion, tried to teach her how to dress as a Muggle, but robes were much easier. "That is exciting, though. You have an adventure waiting for you, though it is for work." She refreshed Phillipa's tea and her own and resumed her seat. "Is it what you've always wanted to do? Write about fashion, that is." -- A soft, wry smile turned up the corners of Phillipa’s mouth at the mention of the gossip. “Yes, unfortunately the gossip columns like to run all over everyone they can manage to find anything on - even if they have to make it up. The Prophet tends to be worse about it than Witch Weekly, though they're far from innocent either. My writing is free from it, at least.” She murmured a quiet thanks when her tea was refilled, bringing a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I guess so. I didn't really have a plan after school but I'm good at both those things, so it kind of fell into my lap. It's easy, and I can do it from anywhere. I like the flexibility it gives me, so I'm suited to it I think.” -- Holding her teacup between her hands, Molly smiled against the rim. "I could not give my children much, but my most important lesson was for them to do what made them happy, as long as they weren't hurting anyone. I was hard on them at times, yes, but it was usually out of fear or frustration when they weren't meeting their potential." Molly regarded Phillipa. "Does it make you happy?" -- Phillipa sat silently for a long moment, her gaze focused on the steam rising from her teacup. If she was being honest, the answer was no. It was enjoyable enough, gave her the freedom to do her real job, which was also enjoyable. She wasn't sure if she’d say either of them made her happy. Then again, happiness had never really been presented to her as a goal or something attainable. Success was what she'd been aiming for. “They're lucky,” she said finally, offering Molly a terse smile before taking a sip of tea to regain her composure behind. “I find it enjoyable, for the most part.” -- Molly smiled a little sadly. "We couldn't give them much, but we could give them that." One of the catering staff came in, and Molly was up again to hand her the plate of pancakes. When they were on their own, she turned back to Phillipa. "Look at me chatting your ear off when you should be with the young people." She gently patted Phillipa's cheek. "If you need to escape, just come in here, and help yourself to anything." -- The interruption of someone else coming in was welcome, and Phillipa appreciated the few moments of not being the sole focus of Molly Weasley’s attention. Not that there was anything wrong with Ginny’s mother, she was simply an example of everything her own was not - and Phillipa wasn't sure what to do or how to be with that. Just like how she didn't know how to react when her cheek got patted. “Thank you,” she replied automatically, taking one last sip of her tea before rising from the table and offering her a smile. “I should go find Marcus. Everyone’s out back, you said?” -- Molly nodded. "Out back or down the field. I think someone's started a friendly Quidditch game." She rolled her eyes as if to say she was not surprised. "Ginny and Marcus seemed to not have spared any expense on the food and drinks, and there will be cake later." She gave Phillipa a friendly, warm smile. "Have fun, dear." She started gathering the dishes, wanting to put the kitchen back in order before she joined the festivities. |