who ? daphne greengrass, max and roger davies when ? 2nd december where ? roger’s house what ? first meetings status ? Completed in Documents
Roger wouldn’t really consider himself nervous about introducing Daphne to Max. He wanted Max to not disapprove. It wasn’t even that Roger particularly cared for Max to approve, just not disapprove. Roger was quite sure that Daphne could do much better than him, but seeing how she, too, was sort of fucked up, it worked well. Roger had told Arran as much, but Max wasn’t quite the sort of person who Roger thought would be very satisfied with ‘we’re both fucked up so it kind of works’. Nonetheless, Roger didn’t actually think there was anything about Daphne that Max could dislike or disapprove of. Not really, anyway. What Roger was far more concerned about, if he was going to be perfectly honest, was introducing Max to Daphne.
“Don’t be a twat,” Roger informed his brother, pressing a bottle of beer into his hands as they stood in the kitchen where Roger was cooking the food for their dinner. They could’ve gone out. In fact, Roger thought that Max might’ve preferred it, but Roger found something oddly nice about the idea of having a home cooked meal at home. He had opted against telling Max just how many times him and Daphne had had sex on the dining table, though.
Roger was a bit disappointed that Siobhan couldn’t make it, but she’d been called in the last minute, and he did recognise that his soon-to-be sister-in-law had a job she couldn’t quite just brush off. Besides, Roger genuinely was far more concerned about Max, he didn’t actually doubt that Siobhan, who was delightful, would get on with Daphne perfectly fine. Walking over to the stove, to stir the sauce he was making, Roger took a sip of his beer. The food smelled great and Roger was quite pleased with his housewifery efforts.
--
Max also didn’t consider himself nervous. Roger had assured him that he would find Daphne someone he got on with, and Max did trust Roger’s judgement on that so there was no reason to be concerned. It hadn’t occurred to him that Daphne might not like him, or that Roger would be worried about such a thing happening. Max, at least by his own estimation, got along well with most people. There was no reason Daphne should dislike him.
“I’m not a twat,” Max pointed out. “I don’t know what on earth you mean.” He did, really, know what Roger was referring to. Max didn’t have the words to explain it, but there was a way he behaved that Roger found almost intolerable. He opened the beer, taking a swig as if that would somehow prove his intentions to behave well - at least, by Roger’s definition. He watched as Roger cooked, baffled as to why Roger would choose this when they could go out to eat. Max cooked for himself, of course, because he was a (currently) unmarried man and he had to eat, but he would never think to have a dinner party when there were so many restaurants available. “Do you want to have a codeword you can work into conversation if I’m not being friendly enough, or do you trust me?” It wasn’t, by any means, a serious suggestion.
--
Roger rolled his eyes when Max informed him he wasn’t a twat. “I’m sorry to tell you, Max, but partaking in the Boat Race automatically makes you a twat,” Roger informed him. It was a well known fact across literally the whole country. “And being a lawyer does nothing to help that,” he added smirking at his brother before taking another drink. As for having a codeword, Roger nodded. “Yes,” he confirmed. “My codeword is ‘Max, stop being a dick’,” he told his brother just as the doorbell went.
“Can you let her in?” Roger asked glancing at the stove. “The sauce will burn if I leave it,” he added because it would. Roger supposed he could’ve asked Max to stir it instead, it wasn’t like he couldn’t cook, but Roger didn’t actually see any reason not to have Max let Daphne in instead.
--
“Agree to disagree,” Max said mildly. He didn’t think he was a twat, and he certainly didn’t think his team in the Boat Race had been anything of the sort. Though, he could see how Roger might think so - but Roger was wrong. “Being a lawyer makes me a lawyer,” he added, “but that codeword seems simple enough.” He knew, too, that Roger wouldn’t hesitate to say it. Max fully intended to behave so well that he wouldn’t have to.
When Roger asked him to let Daphne in, because otherwise the sauce would burn, Max rolled his eyes. With a flick of his wand, he set the spoon to stir the sauce itself then immediately stepped out of the room, beer still in hand, to let Roger’s girlfriend in. It didn’t count as being a twat if Daphne wasn’t there to witness it.
He pulled the door open, politely stepping back enough to let the young woman in. “Evening,” he said. “Daphne?” He assumed it was Daphne, because it would be quite a coincidence anyone else showing up at Roger’s door. “Lovely to meet you. I’m Max.”
--
Daphne was only a touch nervous about meeting Roger's brother. She wasn't concerned that she wouldn't like the man, but that he would find something unsavory about her. She didn't think that it would make much of a difference to Roger, but she much preferred not to make a bad impression on Roger's only sibling. She pushed most of her worries aside by the time she reached Roger's door and thought that if things went truly horribly, they could at least have frustrated sex afterward.
She smiled at Max when he let her in, stepping into Roger's home, she let his brother shut the door, then offered her hand out to him. "Lovely meeting you as well," she told him. He had a few physical similarities to Roger, enough to be an obvious sibling. He looked well put together and had obvious manners. She made little notes of the way that he carried himself. "I hope that I haven't kept you boys waiting."
--
“Asshole,” Roger muttered pulling out the spoon Max spelled to stir the sauce. In general, Roger didn’t mind using magic for cooking, but he was convinced that it left a particular taste in the food. Like an aftertaste. He preferred to cook by hand. And sure, maybe Roger just imagined that the food tasted nicer when made manually, but it didn’t change the fact that he did still think so. Moving the sauce off the cooker, Roger looked through the oven door to see how the rest of the food was doing. Almost ready, which really, was rather good timing on his part.
When Daphne entered the kitchen, Roger gave her a smile. “Hey,” he greeted, offering her a brief kiss. “There’s beer in the fridge,” he told her with a wave towards it. “The food’ll be ready in a few,” he added for both Daphne and Max’s benefit.
--
“Not at all,” Max assured Daphne, because if he’d been waiting it was entirely his own fault for being unable to arrive anywhere less than five minutes early. Besides which, waiting around with Roger was hardly unpleasant. “Come through,” he added, leading the way to the kitchen despite being quite sure Daphne would already known her way around. “Roger’s stirring things,” he added. When they arrived in the kitchen, however, Roger seemed to be finished with stirring - though Max noticed that his helpful spoon had been laid to one side.
Taking another sip of his own beer while Daphne helped herself to the fridge, Max leaned against the wall. “How was your day?” he asked Daphne. “Roger tells me you edit… things.” Roger hadn’t been too specific about what, but Max assumed that Daphne could fill him in.
--
She was glad to hear that she wasn't running late. She followed Max through to the kitchen, where Roger was finishing up with dinner. Daphne smiled at Roger's greeting and offer of beer. "Hey," she replied, nodding at the explanation of the timeline that the food was on.
Moving to the refrigerator to retrieve a beer for herself, she then turned to Max and smiled. "Work was alright," she told him. "Nothing too fascinating today. And yes, he's right. I'm an editor at Obscurus Books. And you're a lawyer, right? I'm sure your day was probably much more interesting than mine." No matter the type of lawyer he was, Daphne was sure that he probably was doing more than just sitting at a desk all day like she usually spent hers.
--
Roger let Max ask his question and Daphne to answer it, since the idea was that they should get to know each other. Talking to each other was probably a good start. Whilst Daphne explained how her day had been, Roger located some oven gloves to get the food out, putting it on top of the cooker to cool a little as he went about making sure there were plates and cutlery on the table. He did pause slightly to laugh when Daphne said that Max’s day must’ve been far more interesting than hers.
“Max is a copyright lawyer, I’m not sure how thrilling that can truly ever be,” not that Roger particularly thought any kind of lawyering was very thrilling, but at least when there were murderers involved you could pretend. “He barely ever even gets to meet anyone famous,” Roger said mostly teasingly. It was true, though, as far as Roger could tell, majority of Max’s work was done through and by lawyers.
Moving the oven dish to the dining room table, Roger put it down before pouring the sauce into a sauciere and also taking it over to the table. “Dinner’s ready,” he informed them, before turning to give Daphne a grin. “I’m a superb housewife,” he informed her seriously.
--
“I enjoy intellectual property law,” Max explained, both to Roger - who’d heard the sentiment many, many times before - and to Daphne. “I didn’t get into it to meet famous people.” It was true that the more famous people became, the more distance they were able to keep from their lawyers. Max supposed that was fair enough, really. He still got to meet some creative types, which he mostly enjoyed. As long as it wasn’t Jun. “I spent most of my day haggling over performance contracts at the WWN.”
Sitting down, Max pursed his lips at Roger’s announcement that he was a superb housewife. The comment hadn’t been addressed to him, so Max did his best to ignore it. Still, his disapproval wasn’t hard to read. “Do you live nearby, Daphne?” he asked, wondering whether she lived alone or with her parents still.
--
Daphne nodded. Intellectual property might not have been the most thrilling, but Max said he enjoyed it and that was all that really mattered. Haggling didn't sound like something she would like to spend her day doing, but it wasn't her job so she didn't really have much of an opinion on it.
Roger's words made her chuckle a little. "A fabulous one," she agreed, tempted to roll her eyes at her own teasing. Settling down at the table, she looked to Max. "Yes," she said. "I have a flat with my sister a few doors down." Not even a few, really.
--
Roger did roll his eyes, but mostly at Max and his quite evident disapproval of Roger’s pride in making an excellent housewife. Mostly, Roger tended to ignore his brother’s rather old-fashioned idea of gender roles. If anything, Roger half-enjoyed not fitting them because it quite clearly irritated Max. Truthfully, though, Roger really quite liked being able to cook and do so well. He didn’t consider himself as someone who did many things well and whist he was hardly the best of cooks, the meals Roger could make, he did really well.
Taking a seat at the table, Roger took a sip of his beer as he listened to Daphne explain to Max how she lived very close. “Have you and Siobhan found a house yet?” Roger asked Max, before turning to Daphne slightly to add: “I’ve been trying to convince them that they should move close by, but Max wants to live in Surrey.” Roger did sort of understand why Diagon Alley wasn’t the preferred choice, since it was busy and Max and Siobhan wanted to start a family, but Surrey truly was a very middle-class choice.
--
“No,” Max answered. “I will tell you when we find a house, Roger. It’s not likely to slip my mind.” A house was, after all, the largest purchase Max intended to make, and apart from Siobhan Roger would be the first person he told. “We think we’re going to look in a magical area, though. Somewhere like the outskirts of Godric’s Hollow.” He smiled across the table at Daphne. “We’re planning to start a family, and we wanted somewhere we wouldn’t have to worry about uncontrolled magic being spotted by neighbours. Plus, I’m quite keen on those toy broomsticks that hover.”
Max had, vaguely, been aware that there were two Greengrass daughters, so the information that Daphne lived with a sister didn’t come as a surprise. “Where did you two grow up?” he asked. “Since we started looking at houses, I find myself very interested in the kinds of childhoods witches and wizards from magical families had.”
--
Daphne nodded at Roger's words. It was helpful to know a little more about the conversation and she appreciated that he was trying to include her in it. It was obvious that Roger wanted his brother — and sister-in-law — to be closer and that made her smile. She knew how she felt about having Astoria close to herself and that bond was easily seen with Roger and Max. They obviously had a lot of differences, but the affection they had for one another was still very much there.
"Oh, that's lovely," she said, grinning at Max. "I'm sure that Roger will be happy to have a little niece or nephew. He'd probably spoil them rotten." For some reason, she could see Roger as the sort of uncle that would dote on his little nephews and nieces. It made her grin a little more broadly as she looked over at Roger thinking about it. She tried not to think about Roger and babies for obvious reasons, but if those babies belonged to his brother, it was adorable.
"My sister and I grew up in Canterbury," she told Max. "My father is a diplomat and my mother works at St. Mungos," she went on. "My sister and I spent most of our time together growing up, so we're quite close."
--
Max’s assurance that he’d tell Roger when a house would be picked made Roger grin. Max had, in fact, already assured this to him the previous time Roger had asked, but being the bratty younger siblings, Roger took a great deal of pleasure in making Max repeat the same stuff over and over again because it would clearly become more irritating to him every single time. Which in turn, made it totally worth Roger’s time. When Daphne commented how she was sure Roger would spoil any potential nieces and nephews rotten, Roger grinned. “Correct,” he confirmed, toasting her beer bottle with his own. Roger fully intended to be the best uncle these kids had and seeing how Siobhan had two brothers, he really had to put the effort in.
Roger smiled when Daphne said that her and Astoria were close because of growing up together. He did suppose that they had a slightly smaller age gap between them, then again, Max and Roger hadn’t been quite allowed to grow up together the same way Daphne and Astoria had been. “I think, Max and I are close despite growing up together,” Roger said with a small smirk. “We sure as hell didn’t get on as kids,” he commented, not quite realising just how unlike himself it was to so openly discuss the childhood him and Max had had. If Roger had considered it, he’d known that it was just one of those things, the things he told Daphne without thinking, things that he’d never tell people he was friends with.
--
Max smiled at the thought of Roger spoiling his future children. “He’ll have competition,” he warned, taking a bite of the food. Looking back on his own childhood, it was easy to see how he had been spoiled - never denied material possessions, always given the best clothes and toys and books. On the other hand, Maximilian Snr had not been one to dote, and the nurses and nannies and tutors in his employ had mostly followed his lead, though some had shown more affection to the children than others. For his part, Max intended to spend far more time with his own offspring than he’d ever spent with Maximilian. He knew Siobhan felt the same, that she would spend time as well as money on her children. It was one of the reasons they matched so well.
“I always thought the diplomatic life must be very interesting,” he said to Daphne, not wanting to exclude her from the conversation by only talking about things that concerned himself and Roger. “So many fascinating people to meet. Did your father travel a lot?” Max might have considered diplomacy for himself, if it weren’t for the travelling. As much fun as he was sure it was, he wanted to have one home, with his family, not uproot them every few years or leave them behind for long stretches.
He frowned slightly when Roger mentioned their more difficult relationship as children and teens. It was true, but that didn’t mean it was appropriate dinner conversation. Or appropriate conversation for any time, with any audience. Max would really rather not. “Do you garden much, Daphne?” he asked, aware it was not the most subtle change in conversation. “Siobhan and I have no experience between us, but we’re hoping we can learn. I didn’t even take Herbology beyond OWL.”
--
Daphne was thankful that she and her sister had gotten on so well as children. They were close enough in age that it had been easy to become the best of friends. The fact that they grew into very similar interests like tea and books had certainly helped. She thought, too, that their parents being the distant way they were had been the reason that she and Astoria had clung to one another the way they had.
"He did a lot of traveling," she told Max, nodding. "I think he enjoys being away and our mother is always out doing something or other. I think that added to Astoria and I becoming as close as we were. The house was always a little empty, unfortunately. They were busy, though." She didn't like making excuses for her parents, but she didn't want to make them seem unloving either, even if they were.
Switching the topic to gardening was appreciated and Daphne smiled. "Not a great deal," she admitted. "I've done a bit here and there, though. It can be quite relaxing." She smirked at Roger a little considering his garden was just used for crying. She decided to keep the thought to herself but was sure that Roger was easily able to pick up her train of thought.
--
It annoyed Roger, the obviousness of Max switching the topic. There was nothing inherently bad about telling someone that they hadn't gotten on as kids. In fact, Roger had already told Daphne as much. Which, of course, Max didn't know. Nonetheless, there was no real reason why gardening would be preferred to talking about childhood. Except, Roger supposed that the comment Daphne had to offer in return held the potential of becoming awkward. Her talking about her parents meant that Roger and Max would have to comment on their parents. Or ignore it as obviously as Max had done with the mention of their childhood. Roger supposed that as far as Max knew, Roger hadn't told Daphne about their mum. Or well, he hadn't told her about how their mum had died. Roger didn't know if Max had told Siobhan. It was hardly as if he'd ask. But Roger knew that he had never told anyone.
Arran, Roger was quite sure, knew. They'd been friends for so long that Roger's dislike of his father became almost an indicator, if not the answer in its own right. But Daphne had only known Roger for a few months. It wasn't like he would just tell her. Despite how easy Roger found things to tell Daphne. But she still knew. Her mother had told her, which in turn made Roger a lot less cautious about bringing up his childhood. Max, of course, didn't know any of this, having only known Roger as someone who'd keep things to himself. It was all very circular and perhaps Max was right in switching the subject. It didn’t stop Roger from feeling irked about it.
“Do you think gardening makes your life less or more middle-class?” Roger asked taking a swig of his beer as if that was a perfectly polite question to ask his brother.
--
Max nodded as Daphne spoke about her parents. His and Roger’s house had mostly been full of people - the two of them, plus whatever tutors or nannies or cleaning women happened to be around during the day. At least, after their mother passed away, but Max didn’t think about what life had been like before that. “It’s good that you’re still close,” he said to Daphne. Despite how close he and Roger now were, Max had no illusions that the two of them living together would be a good idea. They’d probably go back to furiously hating one another within a week. “Is it just the two of you? Forgive me, I’m not as up on my social circle as I probably should be.” He was relatively sure there wasn’t another sibling he’d forgotten about, but he could hardly be certain of the fact.
“Siobhan’s hoping to grow herbs, and eventually vegetables,” Max said, in response to Roger’s question. It wasn’t actually an answer to the question, but it wasn’t outright ignoring that Roger had spoken, either. And, in a way, it was an answer. They weren’t thinking about gardening because it was or was not a middle-class hobby, Siobhan was looking into it because she thought it might help her enjoy cooking, and eating. None of which Max would say in front of Daphne. It wasn’t his information to reveal, and Siobhan wasn’t here, and he still didn’t really know Roger’s girlfriend in any case. “If it’s relaxing, I suppose that’s an added benefit,” he added with a smile. “I’m sure there’s a book on gardening spells. Grass trimming and weeding and that sort of thing. They shouldn’t be that hard to pick up.”
He turned to Daphne again. “I would ask if you have any hobbies, but Roger’s already told me that you like to write. Is there something particular you’re working on?”
--
Daphne shook her head. "No need to ask forgiveness," she said. She didn't think that it mattered much that he wasn't up on the social circles. She tried to avoid most of them. Pretentious people often got on her nerves. "Yes," she said. "It was just the two of us. Much to my parents sadness," she went on, tempted to roll her eyes, but deciding against it. "They always wanted a son and only had the two of us." They could have tried again, of course, but they hadn't. Daphne wasn't going to ask her mother why."
"Oh, yes, I'm sure there is," she agreed, nodding. Picking up gardening for a witch or wizard was much easier, she supposed, than it would have been for a muggle.
Daphne smiled at the realization that Roger talked about her to his brother enough to mention that she liked writing. It was such a small thing, but sweet all the same. "Yes," she said, nodding. "My first novel, actually. I'm hoping that I can finish it soon. It's gone rather well. Roger's helped me with the editing. It's difficult to edit your own work," she said. "I've enjoyed having him here to look it over and tell me where I can improve."
--
Though Max could understand wanting a son - he certainly wanted to carry on the Davies family name - but he was socially aware enough not to indicate as much to one of the family’s daughters. “It sounds like you enjoy having a sister, though,” he said instead. “Is there much of an age difference? I know nothing about child psychology, but I’d assume that being close in ages would be a good foundation for a close relationship. Not that it can’t be built in other ways, of course.”
Since none of them were actually interested in gardening, Max thought it best to let that subject drop. They couldn’t really get much more out of a conversation none of them had any real knowledge of. “That must have been quite an undertaking,” Max said, smiling. “Especially if you’re working at the same time.” Max had hobbies outside of work, but none of them required the time and dedication involved in writing a whole novel. He smiled when Daphne said Roger had been helping her edit. It wasn’t something he would have predicted his brother would want to do, but it was somehow nice, to think they were building something together. “Having an outside perspective can be very helpful,” he agreed. He knew a few writers, through his work, and almost all had editors who helped them see where things could be improved. “And I’m told that finding an editor who you work well with can be an uphill battle. It sounds like you’re ahead of the curve, if you’ve found one before you’ve even submitted to publishers.”
--
When Daphne said that her parents had always wanted a son, Roger tapped his fingers against the table almost too aggressively. He knew the type of people her parents were, because his own father wasn’t too dissimilar from that. Of course, Maximilian Davies Sr had been luckier, in that rather than having two daughters, he’d had an heir and a spare. Roger daren’t to imagine what his father would’ve been like with a daughter. Probably wouldn’t even bother learning her name because what was the point, right? Roger was saved from that trail of thought by Max’s response regarding child psychology. The look Roger gave him was almost comical in its disbelief of the link back to having close relationships with one’s siblings. “There’s only three years between us,” he told Max spitefully, since Max had already once changed the subject when discussing their own childhood.
Having some of his food, Roger listened to Max and Daphne discuss editing. He gave a small shake of his head when Max said it was good to find an editor a writer liked. “I hardly do much,” Roger dismissed. “Daphne’s a very good writer,” he insisted. The thing was that Roger truly didn’t think he was doing something someone else couldn’t. Anyone could point out the things he did, so really, it was just happenstance that had lead Roger to be the one who did it.
--
"No," Daphne said, shaking her head. "Only three years. Well, just about." Which was amusing considering Roger and Max apparently were the same distance apart in age and yet had a completely different sort of relationship than she had with Astoria. "I do enjoy having a sister. She's lovely. Maybe you'll meet her sometime. Roger has." They seemed to have got on well, so Daphne had no doubts that Astoria would make the same sort of impression on Max should they meet. Astoria was a sweet girl and it was difficult for anyone to dislike her, she thought. She may have been biased, though.
"The one thing that you don't do is give yourself enough credit," Daphne said. "You're a good editor. I'm a good writer because you've helped me to get there," she pointed out. She had talent, she thought, but a writer was nothing without a good editor.
--
Max hadn’t meant to imply he felt he and Roger hadn’t been close because of the age difference - because three years really wasn’t very much. He and Roger had encountered other problems which made it difficult to get close to one another, but Max didn’t feel those were appropriate topics of conversation. Their father’s treatment of them, the death of their mother, the time it had taken Max to learn what behaviour made Roger close off and pull away, those were all issues that were in the past. “Little enough that you’d have been at Hogwarts together,” he noted to Daphne. “I enjoyed getting to watch Roger play quidditch for his house.” He really had. Roger had been much better at it than Max, and had seemed to enjoy it a lot more as well. “I’d be happy to meet her,” he agreed. “And you’ll have to meet Siobhan, at the chalet if not before.”
He shook his head when Roger insisted he didn’t do much because Daphne was a good writer. “Even the best writers need editors,” he argued. “And it probably helps just to know you have an audience to write for,” he added, turning to Daphne. “Some creative fields can be very lonely, if you never get to see people respond to your art.” He paused to finish his beer, then ate a little more. “If Daphne says you’re a good editor, I’m inclined to believe her. She would know, after all.”
--
The way Max said that he had enjoyed watching Roger play quidditch at school, made Roger smile almost automatically. He knew that to be the case. Max had always been very supportive of Roger’s love of quidditch in school. Had come to most of Roger’s games, had even worn Ravenclaw colours to some of them. Their father had, of course, never come to watch Roger play, but it had never mattered to him because Max had. Roger knew that he did and had done plenty of stupid shit that Max hadn’t approved of, but with quidditch, Roger had always felt like he could... well, please he supposed.
“Astoria is lovely,” Roger confirmed with a nod. He wasn’t sure in what situation Max and Astoria might actually meet, but if they did, Roger was sure Max would find Astoria perfectly pleasant. “What creative fields do you never get to see how people respond to your art?” Roger asked rather than attempting to repeat that Daphne’s writing talents were all his own rather than anything particularly improved by Roger. In majority of situations, Roger did not think himself very helpful and whether Max and/or Daphne thought he was, Roger could only assume, was vastly based in bias.
--
Daphne wasn't certain when Max and Astoria would cross paths, but if they did have some sort of reason to, she would have been fine with it. If that point came along, she doubted that Max would find anything negative to say about her sister. She was one of those people that was just, well, good.
She happened to be looking over at Roger when he lit up the way he did about quidditch. She wondered if it was quidditch or the way that Max was talking about how he enjoyed watching him that earned that smile. Either way, she smiled in response. "I'm sure he was quite good," she said. "Probably still is, if he hopped on a broom." She gave Roger a teasing little wink, then picked up her beer to have a drink.
--
“Well, writing,” Max said, in answer to Roger’s question. “At least, not usually until the whole work is complete.” So far as Max was aware, most amateur writers tended to finish their attempt at a novel before submitting it to be edited, which meant they had to motivate themselves for long periods with something other than audience reaction. “In contrast to something more collaborative, like music or dance.”
Max smiled when Daphne complemented Roger’s quidditch skill apparently purely on assumption, since the phrasing made it seem like she’d not seen him play herself. “He was,” Max agreed. He was biased, of course, but he wouldn’t have said it unless he thought Roger was good, truly. There was no use building up someone’s confidence in an area they had no actual proficiency in. “I only played until my fifth year,” he said, assuming Daphne had no reason to know that. “After that, I just didn’t have time. Too many NEWTs and too many extra-curriculars.” He’d certainly filled his days at Hogwarts well, even without quidditch. “Did you do many clubs and things at school?”
--
Daphne could agree with Max's words when it came to writers. She, even being an editor, was almost fearful to show someone else her work before it was finished. The fact that she'd fallen in with Roger and he'd helped her with her writing was a fluke and if it hadn't happened, she wasn't sure she'd have show anyone anything until it was complete.
She shook her head at the question that Max posed. "Not many, no," she said. "I was in the chess club and the writing club. I didn't participate in sports, though." His mention of all of his extra-curricular activities intrigued her and she tilted her head. "What sort of extra-curriculars did you participate in?" she asked. Her eyes flicked briefly to Roger. "I should ask you the same question."
--
“I did quidditch,” Roger replied, choosing to skip over all the conversation about writing. He did think that Max had a point, though. Roger read Daphne’s work in small installments, editing the book as she wrote it. That must’ve been different for anyone who’d submit a whole manuscript. “And got in trouble with Arran,” Roger added with a small smirk, well aware of his brother’s opinion of Roger’s friendship with Arran.
As for Max’s extracurriculars, Roger sighed dramatically. “What was it that you did, Max?” He asked his brother. “Young Lawyers United?” Roger added somewhat teasingly. Somewhat, because he was pretty sure Max had been part of something like that. Turning to Daphne, Roger grinned. “Max did rowing at Cambridge,” he informed her.
--
“Detention did cut into your time for clubs,” Max agreed, trying especially hard to aim for playful rather than judgemental because he didn’t want Daphne to feel he was being unfair. The result was an awkward tone and strained brightness of smile. “I did rowing, and Law Society,” he confirmed, “but not at Hogwarts. I did Potions Club, Duelling Club and was prefect at Hogwarts.” There had been others, usually for a year, or a term. Max had tried most of the subject-specific clubs, but as most of them had been focused just on doing the assigned homework, he’d considered them useless. Potions, at least, had posed new challenges.
“I didn’t know there was a writing club,” he said. Of course, new clubs did spring up according to the interests of the current students, so he shouldn’t be surprised. “What did you do?” He finished what was on his plate and then stood. “Dessert needs half an hour in the oven,” he said. He’d been assured of that by the woman in the shop. “Shall I put it in now?”
--
The list of things that Max had done in school wasn't all that surprising. He seemed like the sort of man that had a lot going on and liked it that way. Schedules and meetings and plenty to keep himself occupied. She had plenty going on without adding that sort of strict scheduling to her life. Being a little spontaneous and less structured made her feel better. "Sounds like you kept yourself busy," she commented.
"I think there are all sorts of clubs there and always changing," she said. "We mostly worked on the mechanics of things and people could share their work for some critiques if they wanted, but mostly it was just nice to have other people who enjoyed writing as much as I do to spend time with." The dessert question was more to Roger than herself, so she looked over to him for his answer.
--
Roger thought that Max really had kept himself busy in school. Personally, he’d never really understood it. Max had always seemed to want to do things, to participate in things. Roger honestly had no idea how he’d managed to date Siobhan alongside all his activities, apart from the fact that Siobhan clearly had patience of a saint. When Daphne said that it was nice to have other people who enjoyed her work, Roger gave her a smile. “Well, your work is very good, so it’s not hard to enjoy it,” he told her gently, before giving Max a nod.
“I’ll sort the dessert,” he told his brother getting up. “Anyone for more beer?” Roger asked over his shoulder heading towards where Max had set the dessert. With a flip of his wand, Roger set the sweet unpacking and towards the oven, as he himself walked to the fridge to get beer, at least for himself if no one else wanted any.
--
Max smiled when Daphne said it had been nice to meet people who liked to write. “Then the club achieved its goal,” he said. Most clubs, especially at school level, were really just an excuse to bring people together. Max himself hadn’t wanted that so much, he’d wanted to actually learn things and have achievements to write down on his Cambridge application so those clubs hadn’t served him too well. He could still see their value for others, though, and he wouldn’t begrudge Daphne her connections. “Are you still in touch with any of the writers there?” he asked, curious. “Are any of them still writing?”
When Roger offered more beer, Max shook his head. “Beer with dessert?” he asked. It was not a combination Max thought appropriate. Though, they did have half an hour before dessert was ready, he supposed. “I tried a lot of clubs,” he agreed, returning to Daphne’s comment. “I didn’t always stick with them, but I knew I would need leadership positions and to demonstrate an academic interest beyond my direct school work if I wanted to get into Cambridge.”
--
Having her work complimented was nice. Daphne smiled at the appreciation because Roger didn't usually say things that he didn't mean. It was one of the things she respected greatly about the man. He didn't beat around the bush or let himself get caught up in lying just to make people feel better. Brutally honest, in a way. Still, it was a fine quality to have when too many times people were just not honest enough.
"I'll take another since it'll be a little before dessert," Daphne said, nodding. "Thank you."
As for whether she'd kept in touch with any of the writers from Hogwarts, Daphne shook her head. "No, not really," she admitted. "I wish that I had. After school, I traveled for a while. Just wanted to get away. I didn't really keep in touch with anyone." She wouldn't get into the why behind what she had gone on her travels for, but she'd needed it.
"A man with a plan. I can certainly respect that."
--
“Well, no beer for you, then,” Roger said when Max questioned whether he was proposing to serve dessert with beer (he was). Roger did get Daphne a bottle, though, bringing it back over to the table as he retook his seat, listening to Daphne explain how sadly she was no longer in touch with people from her writing club. “Where did you travel?” Roger asked passing the bottle over to her, trying to think of whether he knew. He wasn’t sure he did. In fact, Roger wasn’t sure he even knew Daphne had been travelling, which probably wasn’t great as a boyfriend or whatever. Luckily, though, Roger didn’t really imagine himself as a very good boyfriend.
When Daphne told Max that she could certainly respect a man with a plan, Roger snorted. “Careful, Daph, he is already taken,” he told her teasingly. Though, Roger did question just how much Daphne truly appreciated a man with a plan if she was dating him. Roger was spectacularly terrible at having any sort of plan for anything (or so he presumed, anyway).
--
“Always,” Max agreed easily. He couldn’t really remember ever not having a plan. Perhaps, when he’d been very young and hadn’t known what a lawyer was, but even then he’d known he would go to Hogwarts and play quidditch and be a prefect. He hadn’t really known what a prefect was either, but he’d known he would be one. And now, his plan was to get married and have children and, when he couldn’t put it off any longer, be a judge.
He shook his head slightly at Roger’s teasing. “With no offence to you, Daphne, Siobhan is the only woman for me.” He smiled at Daphne, because he really didn’t mean it as a judgement on her. “We’ve known each other a very long time,” he said. “Roger’s probably told you she’s the only woman in the world who can put up with me.”
--
Roger's snort and his teasing had Daphne rolling her eyes. "That doesn't mean I can't respect that he had — and likely still has — goals and plans," she pointed out. Roger may not have been the sort who talked about his goals, but she thought he still had plenty of them. He may not admit that he had plans, but that was besides the point.
Daphne smiled at the way that Max talked about his fiancee. It was really quite sweet. "No offence taken," she told Max. "I suppose I'll have to make do with the Davies that I have," she said, glancing over at Roger. "Good thing I'm quite fond of him and can see past his aggravating personality traits," she teased.
--
Well, Roger certainly couldn’t disagree that there was plenty to respect in the way Max had plans and goals. Out of the two of them, Max had always know what he wanted, whilst Roger wasn’t convinced he even now knew what he wanted. Max also seemed to care a great deal more for having a clear plan and a strategy. Roger, on the other hand, and most likely as quite a frustration to Max, usually just bumbled around until something stuck. His current job, Roger realised, probably was one of those things, because it had been months since he’d been at it, and Roger didn’t actually hate it. Which was a strange realisation.
“Make do,” Roger said mockingly, but did also grin as he said it. “It’s very sad for you to be stuck with the lesser Davies brother, it’s true,” he told Daphne, but did also lean in to press a kiss against her cheek. “But I’m quite sure Max has a far more aggravating personality,” he added before smirking at his brother. “I’ve just told him to not be a dick tonight,” Roger said more directing it at Max than he did at Daphne.
--
Max smiled, mostly in response to Daphne’s assurance that she could see the good in Roger. “Women are saints,” he murmured. Max happened to think he would make a very good husband to Siobhan, but he did realise that not everyone outside their relationship would agree. Max knew he was getting, and that it was very obvious he was getting, the better end of the deal. In his defence, at least he realised it and appreciate Siobhan all the more. “Are you looking forward to skiing?” he asked, directing his question mostly at Daphne, since he expected Roger to be looking forward to it.
Though he shook his head slightly, Max wouldn’t actually deny that people found him more aggravating than Roger. Not all people, of course. Max had his friends and his colleagues, and he got on with them better than he thought Roger would - if only because Roger would probably hate them. “I did not need telling,” he pointed out. He had better manners than that. “Daphne’s not going to want to spend Christmas with me if you carry on like this.”
--
"Very sad indeed," Daphne said, sarcasm evident in her voice. The banter between brothers was amusing. Daphne grinned at it and then nodded at Max's question. "I am," she said. "I haven't been skiing in ages. I think that we'll all have a lovely time. I'm looking forward to spending the holiday doing something as entertaining as skiing. Are there any other traditions that you two have for the trips you take each year? Do you decorate the place you stay or do you just enjoy not having to do things like that?" She was quite curious what the answer to her question might be.
She laughed at Max's reply to Roger. "I don't think I'm going to change my mind about spending Christmas with you," she said. "Hopefully I've made a good enough impression on you that you won't retract the invitation."
--
When Daphne asked whether they decorated the skiing chalets, Roger shook his head and then at the same time as Max did, offered ‘Siobhan’. After a small chuckle, Roger gave a shrug. “Siobhan’s very good at decorating, so we let her do it,” he explained. It was partially true. The more truthful answer probably would’ve been that neither Max nor Roger had ever decorated for Christmas themselves. When they’d been kids the house elves had done it and as they’d gotten older, the house had just not had any decorations.
“I’m sure you’ve made a great impression,” Roger assured Daphne with a smile. He was, too. Daphne and whatever impression she might leave had never been Roger’s concern. Max, however, Roger had to be fair, had been very pleasant to Daphne throughout the whole dinner, which did please Roger a lot.
--
Max shrugged slightly when Daphne asked about traditions. “We’re fairly relaxed,” he said. “My birthday’s the 24th, but we don’t make a big fuss.” Part of the reason Max enjoyed the trip so much was that he could avoid having some big birthday party. It was unlikely many people outside Siobhan and Roger would have been able to come if he had, given the date. “Don’t worry, I won’t expect you to get me anything. Roger can take care of that.”
He stood up, smiling. “I notice he says nothing about the impression I’ve made,” he pointed out to Daphne. “If you two will excuse me, I’ll be back in a moment.”