Anthony Carey

November 24, 2014 12:34 AM

Answering one question, asking another (Effie Arbon) by Anthony Carey

Balls were, Anthony thought, a lot like his family reunions: sometimes they were better, sometimes they were worse, but they were invariably stressful and completely inevitable. Depending on the scale of the event, invitations could be very serious business – everyone noticed who else had been invited, who had not been invited….

Sonora’s ball was not as serious as some, but Anthony did wonder if it had been invented just to cause stress for the school’s pureblood population. Jay, whose date had all but asked him, was currently the most relaxed of the males in their family, an impressive feat for a man facing RATS. Malcolm came next, as he had flatly refused to invite anyone, claiming that his mother would then try to insist that he marry his date over the summer if she approved of the girl or lock him in a padded room and give him amateur shock treatments every day over the summer if she did not. Anthony had not been able to decide if he thought Mal had been joking or not, as it was always hard to tell with him – his tone tended to be exactly the same no matter what he was saying and was almost always one of boredom. Anthony supposed there were worse things than apathy to see in someone whose father had gone energetically insane, but he still…worried a little about Mal, sometimes. It was, in a way, almost as hard to figure out what he was thinking about as it was to do the same with Henry, who, he thought, as incredible as it seemed, was actually trying to avoid him for some reason….

He had mentioned his concerns about both Mal and Henry to Jay, who had laughed and told him to have some coffee and enjoy the rest of his life. Anthony was still not sure if by that, Jay had meant the actual rest of his life, in which case the part about enjoying it had been sarcasm, or that he should enjoy the rest of the year before he spent his seventh year preparing for the life sentence of managing at least part of the family.

For now, though, his major problem was the Ball. So, after some letter exchanges with home, he picked a suppertime to approach Effie Arbon.

“Good evening,” he said. “May I join you?”

He decided to begin on a neutral note. “I did ask about – er – Great-Grandmother’s Christmas village. The one you asked about in Charms,” he added, his planned introduction suddenly feeling very stupid. He was rambling about family trinkets brought up during pointless small talk. “Apparently, it is in the attic – there were a lot of things that never got sorted out again when she moved house after Anthony the Fifth died.” Actually, Great-Grandmother thought they were all too old for it and that Arnold and Fae needed to have kids, but not only was the idea of Arnold having kids just weird, talking about it also felt like something which would cross the invisible line between what was and was not acceptable to talk about in the company he had right now.

“I was also wondering something else – whether or not you’d be willing to attend the midsummer ball with me?” he asked, focusing on exercises he’d been taught to help him look composed whether he really was or not – interested in her answer, but composed, rather than interested in her answer and a little nervous about hearing it, as he thought was inevitable when asking that kind of question.
0 Anthony Carey Answering one question, asking another (Effie Arbon) 0 Anthony Carey 1 5


Effie Arbon

December 02, 2014 8:05 AM

Replying by Effie Arbon

Effie laid her knife and fork down and took a moment to try to relax. She had a number of things to do this evening, including writing home. Sometimes this was a pleasant task, if her her correspondent was mother or Delphine but sometimes it had the feeling of a progress report from spying on her sister, and she had to work out how best to phrase the fact that Araceli was making no discernible progress in settling in. Tonight was such a letter, on top of which she had a tricky piece of Potions homework to finish. She had very deliberately not brought either to the table, even though she would probably be up later than she would like, or would fail to finish the letter home, as a result. However, working over mealtimes always spoilt her food – one didn't bother to taste and enjoy it if one was scribbling or studying, and it was nice to have a space uninvaded by studies and pressure. For the same reason, she tried to avoid undertaking either task in her bedroom, which was reserved for sleep.

She was just resigning herself to the fact that she should head to the library when a voice at her shoulder spoke, asking to join her. She was glad for the excuse to linger a little longer, though when she looked to see who had spoken she found herself pleased for more reasons still.

“Of course,” she smiled, inviting him to sit next to her. She had greatly enjoyed her conversation with Anthony in Charms, so much so that she had been completely distracted from thinking about whether he might ask her to the ball. The thought had surfaced afterwards, and whilst she felt she should be disappointed she couldn't regret any element of the conversation they had had and thus couldn't really will it to have been any different to what it was. She had long treasured the idea of a loving relationship which naturally grew towards the idea of marriage, rather than a marriage being arranged with the hope that affection might blossom later. Having talked so pleasantly all class with Anthony had felt like the beginnings of... if not romance, then at least warmth to one another. Of course she still cherished the idea of him asking her, perhaps even more so now that she felt that it might be done with some feeling for something other than her surname. The fact that he had sought her out now made her tingle. It had to mean something – something good, that he had chosen to come and sit with her, didn't it?

“Thank you for asking about it,” she smiled, when he mentioned the village scene they had discussed in Charms. She wasn't quite sure how to express that it meant a lot to her that he had asked without it sounding a little over the top for something as seemingly simple as the whereabouts of a family ornament. The thought almost side-tracked her from wondering about the ball and about romantic potential, apart from the fact that the gesture itself seemed vaguely romantic to her. It was perhaps something that would happen in a novel, the sort of sweet and silly conversation that brought people together... The fact that her mind was running along similar lines still didn't stop her from having to hold back a squeak at his next question. She managed though, keeping it toned down to a bright smile.

“I would be delighted,” she replied.
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