closed: there's a first time for everything?

[plainlypat]

This was it.

A whole month of ramping anxiety and impatient nervousness. Four weeks filled with more strangeness, disorientation, confusion, and, well, magic than he'd ever thought to see in a lifetime. And it all came out to this day that had been looming in the background of every exchange since waking up at St-Mungo's

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[marloww]

Her brow furrowed as she sat curled up on the cushy arm chair in the library. She watched him in silence for the last few minutes, her eyes following him as he stalked back and forth, his feet bound to leave tread marks in the hardwood if he kept going. Still, she couldn't blame him. Marlow had no idea how she would react if this were her, how she'd manage such an intense life change- one after another, as it was.

She pressed her lips together, running her tongue behind them as she stretched back in her seat.

"Around the height of the full moon," she told him softly, her hand coming up to brush back a stray strand of hair. "So, give or take another hour or so-"

She rubbed at the back of her neck, eyes moving toward the vials she had prepared with the Wolfsbane potion.

"I would give yourself another half an hour and then I would take the wolfsbane-"

She planted her feet firmly on the ground.

"But before that, we ought to get you someplace safe."

[plainlypat]

Patrick checked his watch (again), paced a round of the living room (again), ran a hand through his hair (again), before stopping in front of Marlow, following her glance to the aforementioned vials of Wolfsbane (honestly, could the name that potion be any more ominous?).

"Right. Yes. I figure this isn't typically something that...happens at home."

What with the wee one around, and- well, he had no idea what to expect, but what he'd read up on didn't exactly depict it as a pleasant or docile experience.

"Where to, then?"

[marloww]

"It could have been- but with Clover-"

Marlow realized she didn't have to say anything more. She didn't want Patrick to feel any sort of way about being in their home, especially when she actually quite liked knowing that he was there- and most especially because of everything that had changed recently.

But they all had to be careful.

"Anyway," she continued, flushing slightly in spite of herself. "I've got a good friend, someone trustworthy, who's got a cottage in the middle of bloody nowhere-"

She offered him a slight smile.

"I think it's our best bet."

[plainlypat]

She didn't need to say it. He knew enough to know how much of a risk it could be (hell, this hadn't exactly come about his life in a hazard-free way), and there'd be no forgiving himself should anyone get hurt on his account. He'd have locked himself in a damn jail cell if he thought that had been the only way to keep things safe, but he'd taken Marlow's word for it that with the potion, at least, the danger was much less eminent.

Still-

"I'll take your word for it," he nodded resolutely, shrugging a shoulder, then pointing over at the fireplace. "That way, I'm assuming?"