In the days that followed, Topsy-Turvey Manor is rather solemn, and derelict of its usual social tea's and dining invitations. Tiffany had received many owls from her friends, but only Silvia is able to regularly visit her each day along with Pandora, who is always accompanied by her sweetheart, Xenophilius Lovegood.
Strangely enough Xeno seemed to have a rather calming effect on Tiffany despite his odd topics of conversation. She quickly grew to understand why Pandora fell for the eccentric Ravenclaw, because despite Xeno's unconventional personality, he had a good, and kind heart. He was always true to himself, and a true friend to others. It was a rare gift that Tiffany wistfully appreciated with a resigned bitterness and touch of envy.
Sadly, Terry and Rowan would only be able to get away for one afternoon to personally visit her, but not nothing more than that. Both were under restrictions from their own families due to one reason or another. Still that was more that could be said about, Bethanie.
The Fawley couple had absolutely refused to allow Bethanie to intermingle with Tiffany considering her present superstitious reputation in wizarding society. At least, they had still permitted the two girls to correspond via letters, but only because Bethanie had pointed that Rowan Prince was still on friendly terms with Tiffany. Otherwise, even the act of exchanging letters would have been prohibited.
However, there was one surprising string of letter from one unexpected correspondent, Sirius Black. The idiotic Gryffindor found the whole situation rather funny, and even sent her a death like mask, which caused Tiffany to angrily throw across the room. Still he did get a good laugh or two out of her in his following letters causing her to grudgingly write back.
On the day of Terry and Rowan's visit, Tiffany's older brother, Mycroft, and her sister-in-law, Fionola arrived early in the day to drop off their son, Christopher for a visit. The almost two-year-old happily squeals and runs towards Tiffany with his arms wide stretched. The little boy is adorable with strawberry blond hair, brown-green flecked eyes, and cute chubby cheeks.
"Tin-tin," Christopher chortled to his aunt, still unable to properly say Tiffany's name.
"Chrissy-bear," Tiffany crooned back as she swept up the little boy in her arms and whirled around in circles causing the little boy to cry out in delight.
Kissing her nephew's round little cheeks, Tiffany says, "Who wants a biscuit?"
Christopher let out an excited cry, "Yis!"
Tiffany rubbed her face into the toddler's silky soft strawberry hair, before turning towards her older brother and sister-in-law. Mycroft looked very much like their father except for having their mother's strawberry blond hair. On the other hand, Fionola is a rather demure witch with earth colored hair up in a carefully woven coil, but even so wisps of her frizzy hair still escape. And though always modest, Fionola's brown-green flecked eyes had a speck of mischief in them.
It came quite the shock to Tiffany and the rest of the family, when her Ravenclaw brother married the Hufflepuff. It was not that Fionola was not a proper pureblood, but it is just that Mycroft always had his nose stuck in books. So how in Merlin's name had such a modest witch managed to tear the Ravenclaw's attention from his books? No one really knew, but they all attributed Fionola's success to Hufflepuff characteristics dedication, hardworking, and patience.
Seeing his younger sister's face brighten up, Mycroft clears his throat and says, "Molma is in the kitchens, she'll take care of everything as needed."
Tiffany glances up at her grin and flashes a bit of her almost normal grins. "My-My," Tiffany rolled her eyes. "Of course, Molma knows what to do! She raised papa, me, and you! If she could not take care of Chrissy-bear here, then what kind of nanny would she be?"
Mycroft merely sniffs in reply as Fionola's twinkle with delight at the remark. "That is what I always say," Fionola gleefully remarked. "But Mycroft, wants to do everything by the book. As if his reading literature will truly beat out the knowledge of a house elf that has raised three generations of children!"
Tiffany and her sister-in-law share a knowing look that says it all, "Ravenclaws."
Clearing his throat, Mycroft stiffly says, "Well, we shall be going now," and without further ado marches away with his wife hiding her giggles with a cough, before following him with a wink.
"Now let us go and see what Molma is up too," Tiffany cooed as the little boy cries back, "Molma!" The toddler knew exactly, who Molma was. She was his nanny.
With Christopher firmly on her hip, Tiffany carried the little boy inside. She had not even made it past the front hall, when the hearth in front of her flashed green, and a figure stepped out. Tiffany blinked in surprise as the little boy stared intently with fascination at the green flames.
"Well, this is new," a rather cool female voice said.
Tiffany lips twitch into a grin as she says, "Rowan, you're here early! You're not supposed to arrive until later."
Rowan shrugged and mutters, "I was tired of listening to Severus complain."
Tiffany chokes as her nephew and Rowan carefully study each other intently for a moment. Christopher furrows his brows as if unsure as Rowan frowns much the same. The two were rather wary of each other for some unknown reason.
Deciding to change the strange ambiance, Tiffany says, "Well, we might as well settle down for tea and biscuits."
"Very well, lead the way," Rowan said as she followed alongside Tiffany studying Topsy-Turvey Manor. Unlike the other homes she had been to the manor is rather well lit with windows and is rather cheery with a warm furniture like tone. To be perfectly honest even though nowhere as lavish as Prince manor, it was much warmer and welcoming at first glance.
Tiffany leads Rowan to a nearby parlor that already has a steaming set of tea with a small tower of biscuits and various other desserts. The little boy happily claps his hands together in delight as Tiffany says, "Molma!"
A faint pop is heard an instant later, when a rather old, wrinkled female house elf is before them. The female has a button nose, small bat-like ears, and a warm crooked smile. "Molma comes little one. Is it time for young master's snack?"
"Yes, Molma,' Tiffany fondly replied to her old nanny house elf that took care of her when she was young. "Do you have his bib?"
"Molma has," the female house elf knowingly said, before pulling out of her pocket a cute long bib with a ducky on it to protect the young master from become dirty.
Christopher pouts and crosses his hands over his chest in refuses. "No! Big Boy!"
Molma not phased whatsoever instead says, "The master is clean. Young master does not want to be like master?'
The little boy looks torn, but before he can protest the tricky nanny already has the bib round him and hovers him into his seat. His distress is rapidly forgotten as Christopher loudly claps in delight as he is seated in a higher chair at the table. Molma nods her head in satisfaction, before pouring tea for all three of them, and vanishing away after with a soft pop.
While Christopher happily chews a biscuit, Rowan takes a sip of her own tea and makes a face, it was too bitter. Adding a bit of cream and sugar, she finally nods in satisfaction at the taste. Rowan catches Tiffany watching her and arches her brow at her.
Tiffany almost like her usual impish self, she says, "I bet most people don't know, but you actually have a bit of a sweet tooth, Rowan."
"Don't we all?" Rowan replied undaunted by the remark.
Tiffany rolls her eyes and says, "Silvia, and Pandora, won't be able to be come today, they both have other events planned. When do you think, Terry is going to-?"
Tiffany is unable to finish her sentence when the door to the parlor room bursts open and there standing in front of them is the ever-debonair figure of Terry Greengrass. "Yes, it is I," Terry proudly declared, before taking a seat next to them and pouring himself some tea.
Only Terry could burst into a parlor room and make it seem like it was all part of his regular routine. He would have been a great theatre actor in another life. That or a conman.