Who: Anton and Helena Where: Somewhere near the island's shops When: Sometime after Helena's conversations with Angelina and Pollux What: The inevitable run-in Why: Because I'm suddenly all about the mass threading! How: We'll see how it goes!
Anton liked to think of himself as a relatively amiable person, despite having been a Slytherin. In his day, the houses weren't so adamantly divided. It was no strange thing to see a Gryffindor speaking with a Slytherin. There would always be blood discrepancy and a difference of beliefs or values or other such ultimately trivial matters, but for the greatest part, things were peaceful. Upheaval would soon follow with the departure of Salazar Slytherin, but Anton had escaped the turmoil by a few years. He possessed the traits most prized by his house's founder - ambition, pride, and cunning - and while he used them for his own purposes, he rarely used them against others. Somehow, he'd tamped down on all the hurt and his wounded pride at not being accepted by his peers for seven long years and likely come out the stronger for it.
Who needed them now, after all? He was a man and wealthy and though the history books of the island painted a bleak future, it was all in the past. How odd a thing to say, but true enough. The island presented a second chance. An opportunity live his life over, in the midst of people who were far more advanced (if not necessarily civilized) and far more liberated than those in his own day and age. Those who were different were often well-liked and thought of as interesting. If only Helena had kept her mouth shut.
How that particular thought rankled! Foolish girl, who did she think she was? Her mother wasn't here to protect her from the real world and it seemed she'd gone and gotten in over her head in this new culture. She'd left him, the younger Baron de Bartholin, for some ginger wizard likely not worth his salt. Left the man who'd cared for her for nine years. Who'd offered to share his heart with her, and she'd called that going too far? Utter shite, if he had his say. He'd only showered her with gifts and treated her like the queen she sometimes thought herself. Well, now she could have it her own way and he wouldn't be there to clean up her mess. Let someone else do that.
Unfortunately, even as angry as he felt, Anton knew it would take time to get over his feelings for her. The court families were not known for their tenderness and it had taken great effort to open himself and be honest with Helena. Secretly, bitterly, he hoped she would come to regret throwing it all away for someone she barely knew.
It was very nearly dusk when he left the bungalow to take a walk. Heading in the direction of the shops, Anton decided that for once, he wanted to be around people. He needed to be, in order to learn their customs and habits. It was the easiest way to fit in here, he supposed. That didn't mean he would follow in Helena's footsteps, however. No, there were better paths. More respectable ones.