Chapter 454 - Societal Tea Invite (1/2)
Near a surrounding forest is a large red brick home with open grounds, it is the Potter family home. But not the Potter family's ancestral home as that was rarely used except for formal events since it is was rather old and drafty. Not that Fleamont Potter had ever truly used it except on a few rare occasions such as his marriage and a few other important events such as presenting his son's godparents.
Sitting in the parlor room is an aged wizard with wispy unruly hair, hazel eyes, and knobby knees. Glancing up from reading the Daily Prophet, Fleamont studies his wife is finishing arranging the flowers that will be placed in the middle of the tea table. ”Really love is all of that necessary?”
The warm looking grandmotherly witch with toffee-colored eyes narrows her eyes at her husband. ”Yes, it is!” Euphemia snapped at her husband. ”It is your cousin's widow, and more importantly she is a Black. You know how they tend to be, and more importantly, she finally accepted my invitation to tea after all of these years. I would very much like to have tea with her again, and so everything must be perfect!”
”Yes, dear,” Fleamont automatically replied, before burying himself behind the tabloid. It would be best if he said nothing for the rest of the afternoon except to greet their guest.
”It's perfect,” Euphemia finally declared as she stepped back in satisfaction to observe the flower arrangement. Satisfied that all was well, she carefully set down the vase precisely in the middle of the table, before taking a seat and nervously smoothing the exquisite linen covering the table.
A soft pop causes her to let out a small startled shriek as she sees their house elf appear before them, Nimmy. The female house elf has salt-pepper hair, medium-sized bat-like ears, a long, thin nose, and large blue eyes. ”Mistress, the guests have arrived, Nimmy will lead them in.”
”Why thank you, Nimmy,” Euphemia said in delight, before pausing to murmur, ”Wait, guests?” However, before she can protest the house elf had already apparated away.
Feeling rather bemused by the house elves words, Euphemia in a panic counts how many chairs she had set up. Exactly four in a wild fit of preparedness. She was perfectly safe! Letting out a pent-up sigh, she pats her hair one last time, before sitting up properly.
The doors open to reveal the figure of Dorea Potter, and one other. A rather tall, slender witch with hair like raven like wing dusted faintly with silver, Georgine Prince. Euphemia blinks in a wide daze as she recalls the young Slytherin girl, who had been six years younger than her while at Hogwarts.
Hurriedly rising to her feet, Euphemia greets her guests. ”Welcome Dorea Potter, and welcome Georgine Prince. I am honored that you have both decided to join my humble abode this afternoon.” Dorea Potter flashes Euphemia a polite smile, while Georgine Prince merely stares down her nose at her but does give Euphemia a tiny nod acknowledging her as the host.
”Please have a seat!” Euphemia gestured to them as she took a seat and the other two women did as well.
From the corner of the parlor room, Fleamont slowly lowers the tabloid to stare at his wife's guest. Why by Helga's rear was Georgine Prince here?! Rather wary at this juncture, he intently listens to the ongoing conversation between the three women.
Glancing around the Potter home, Georgine notices that the manor is rather cozy, and lacks a certain elegant finesse that Dorea's home managed to portray at the same time. Then again, Euphemia Potter although a pureblood did not come from a wealthy household, but instead from a rather moderate one. It would make sense that in some aspects the witch's taste would be somewhat diverse from their own.
Trying to be polite, Georgine compliments the Potter home. ”It is a rather cozy home, quite warm really.”
”Thank you, Prince,” Euphemia happily said. ”And what brings you along this afternoon?”
”Dorea here,” Georgine truthfully answered. ”I was having tea earlier with her this morning when she said that she had a prior engagement. As such, I decided to accompany her this afternoon to her engagement.”
”I see,” Euphemia said, before brightly adding, ”Well, we best have lunch then. Nimmay!”
The house elf who had been waiting just outside of the door opens the parlor doors as trays of food float in behind her. With care, Nimmy places the platters of food onto the table and not spilling even a single crumb nor drop. Proud of her herself, Nimmy says, ”Lunch is served. Would guests like Nimmy to serve?”