Nodus Tollens PV

It was nearing evening when a house elf came to fetch Max to go to the Fawleys' for a dinner. He was standing in a shadow when the elf showed up, staring blankly out the window with a cup of water that had once been cold clutched in his hand. His hand still felt cold, but the water must've warmed up because there was no longer beads of condensation along its surface.

"Young master must get ready," the house elf informed him, and Max nodded silently without turning. The house elf waited a moment more before understanding the dismissal and going to rustle through Max's closet for a suitable outfit to wear. It would be so nice to see Eris again after these past few months, and Rosalyn had implied that Phaedra might be coming as well. He could talk to her about the letters they'd been sharing, though of course he wouldn't tell her what the gift was quite yet. He did have Eris's present, though, since it was her house he was going to.

It was strange. It had felt like it had been so long since he'd last seen them, yet he'd only been gone since right before exams. A few months at most, but things had changed so much. He had changed so much. The trip he'd taken with his father -

Something touched him on the back and he suddenly found his wand in the face of the house elf before he could even process what had happened. Heart hammering, he lowered his wand from the creature's tiny, wincing face and forced his face to ease from a snarl.

"I'll dress myself. Out," he ordered harshly, trying to keep his breathing under control as the house elf nodded a trembling head and practically ran to get away from him. It was only after the elf was gone that he relaxed enough to put his wand away, shaking his head as he bent down to begin picking up pieces of glass from the cup he'd just dropped. He would have to tell his friends about the trip, but it would be difficult to explain some of the facets of it without them having been there. Like the parlor. Smoke twisting overhead, papers worth thousands changing hands, a corpulent old man beckoning him with the promise of a secret...

"Maxwell!" Rosalyn's voice jerked him out of the memory and he looked up to find her staring down at him with an expression akin to horror. He didn't understand why until he looked down and saw the blood welling between his fingers from where his grip had unconsciously tightened against shards of broken glass. He eased his hand open, a throbbing ache rearing its head as he tilted his palm to let the glass tinkle to the ground.

"I'm fine, Mother," he informed her calmly, rising to standing. "Why don't you have a house elf clean this mess while I get dressed?" He grabbed whatever the elf had laid out on the bed and left before she could protest, changing in the bathroom without so much as a glance in the mirror. The sight of mirrors had a tendency to make him sick lately.

The other residents of the house largely avoided him as he made his way to the door, the sound of running feet the only thing that gave them away. He ignored it as he reached the front door to find Alisdair standing there waiting for him. They sized each other up for a moment before Alisdair smiled, and if there was a hint of malicious coolness behind it... well, it didn't necessarily mean it was directed at Max.

"Maxwell," Alisdair greeted as Max came to stand beside him, reaching out to rest a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You look like a man now. I'm proud of you." Despite the years of anger and bitterness between them, something had clearly changed over the the last couple of months as Max nodded with a guarded, tentative answering grin. His father stepped closer and the boy didn't even flinch as Alisdair reached up to take his head in both hands, leaning down to plant a kiss on his son's head. "Do me proud again tonight, son."

When his father stepped back, Rosalyn had appeared as if out of thin air and was watching the two of them with a look Max couldn't quite interpret. Pain? Sorrow? Guilt? It didn't matter. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but Alisdair held up a hand and she fell silent. It was odd how much power Alisdair now had over her, when before she'd seemed to do whatever she pleased.

"Let's go," Alisdair ordered, taking his wand out so the lot of them could Apparate. It was over in a second, and then they were walking up to the Fawley mansion with Max so excited he could've bounced on his toes. That, however, would be excessively unprofessional, and so he schooled his face into a cordial grin as his father stepped forward to knock on the door.

xxxx"Hold your head still, or we will be here all evening."

xxxxRipping her eyes away from the work being done in the mirror, Phaedra slumped in her seat as her mother's hand pressed beneath her chin. It surprised her when earlier, the woman had given in to letting her wear some makeup, though she suspected it was only because tonight held a formal occasion. She wasn't trusted to apply the cosmetics herself, and so after receiving a last streak of rose onto her lips, Phaedra pulled away to face her reflection.

xxxxShe turned her head in the glass to see herself from different perspectives, particularly her eyes, which had natural colours on the lids. After a few seconds of tentative staring, a small smile crept onto her face, deciding that she was quite pleased with the way it had turned out after all. "Thank you, mum." A moment of quiet passed and the teenager picked up a brush to pull it through her hair, now determining what kind of part looked best. Her hair too had been altered; far less wispy than usual.

xxxxChrysanthi remained sat at her side, watching her daughter with what could only be described as suspicion. "...Of course, λουλούδι μου," she eventually said, features softening, before clicking the lipstick cap back onto its tube. In one swift motion, the woman gathered the other stray tools spread across the vanity, and then leaned over to put her hand on her daughter's wrist when she felt her primping was nearing overkill. "Stop that. Do you want to brush all of the curls out?"

xxxxThat was enough to snap her back into reality. "No, sorry." Phaedra found herself thinking a lot lately, mostly about herself and how she was deemed by others. As much experience under her belt concerning dinners, she felt strangely ill-prepared for meeting the Fawleys, but couldn't place why. Perhaps it was because in three years, she and Eris still had barely crossed the threshold from mutual friends to friends, despite pushes from her grandmother. Or maybe it was the looming thought of engaging in painful small talk with strangers. Nevertheless, she was lacking the security to be herself tonight, unless—

xxxxPhaedra perked up immediately, before setting down the brush. "Will Max be there?"

xxxxThere was a sharp exhale behind her, Chrysanthi in the middle of moving the stool she was sitting on to the corner of the bedroom. Phaedra glanced over her shoulder at her, a brow raised. "Phaedra. This dinner is for the Fawleys; Demetra and Adrian Fawley, and their granddaughter, Eris. Maxwell might attend, but our hosts are the Fawleys."

xxxxShe was not expecting such a dry response, because suddenly, her face felt very hot and she spun back towards the mirror to stand up. "I know that! I was just asking if I could expect to see my friend," Phaedra grumbled, as she side-stepped her chair and made her way to the lacy dress spread on the bedsheets. "I'm going to put on my dress now."

xxxx"That would be ideal."

xxxxBut before Phaedra could start with the first button, she whipped her head back up to see that her mother was returning in her direction. The woman stopped in front of her and put a manicured hand onto her cheek so that their eyes could meet. She thought her mother looked remorseful. "...You are growing up so quickly," the woman whispered, and the girl could only find it in her to respond with a half-smile. As quick as it happened, Chrysanthi had pulled back and was across the room again, reaching for the doorknob to exit. "Five minutes. Don't forget Eris' present."

xxxxPhaedra nodded and went back to the fabric draped in her hands. How odd.

xxxxApparition wasn't possible inside the estate. Outdoors, in the cool air, Phaedra waited for her father to shut the door, Eris' present in her hands. She pulled her coat tighter for warmth when Chrysanthi intertwined their arms together for side-along travel. Her father soon joined them, and wordlessly, they went.

xxxxCrack! When she opened her eyes, she had to let her lightheadedness pass by, and once it did, she was able to spot the figures of Maxwell and his family by the Fawley doorstep. They were just in time, and Phaedra brought the present closer to her person in building anticipation. The Fawley Manor was breathtaking— it was interesting seeing how the other families lived.

xxxxGiannis was the first to step forward, adjusting his coat collar. His voice was calm, deep, and regal. "Good evening, Alisdair. Rosalyn. Maxwell."

Soft voices were all that Eris heard, from her fixed position by her grandmother’s side. Her gown was starting to itch against her thighs, but Eris stayed remarkably still. There was someone outside, and once that might have filled her with a primitive thrill. Now, the heavy burden to act poised and refined was all that was left. Or was, until she took note of the house elves readying to fuss over the guests and their coats. Or, one elf in particular.

Nym stood slender, even more so than before. The pale wrinkled white of her skin was drawn beyond her years, making Eris’ old friend look even more elderly than she was. Although, age seemed a relative term for a creature such as Nymeria. The Fawley heiress’ old maid and secretive friend was bruised. The ribbons Eris had painstakingly tied onto the tips of Nym’s long ears had been ripped off with such force that, even after months, there was a red mark stretching across the expanse of wrinkled skin. The skin, just starting to scab over, as if was constantly ripped open whenever close to healing, was the least of the elf’s problems, compared to the bandages decorating her hands. There were so many bandages, each one wrapped around the spindly fingers of the withered house elf, with such care that each seemed to be a ring, what with the proud way the elf held her head up for a split second, meeting Eris’ eyes with the determined expression that a mother gave her child-- approval scorching through her gaze.

It was the look that took Eris aback, the simplicity of parental acceptance being gifted to her by one who was not her own flesh and blood, nor would ever be. Just as quickly as the look was shared, Nym lowered her head to the floor in the usual subservient manner of house elves, but not in the ashamed guilt that Demetra often looked away from Eris, rather as if alluding to the fact that this interaction was to be secret. A moment shared between the suffering house elf and her young ward, proving that the most unconventional of friendships so often scorned by purebloods were those that mattered most, sometimes. A glimmer of hope in the otherwise desolate green landscape of the Fawley manor.

Eris’ eyes sparkled. It was a final test, she understood. In the fugitive stages between child and teenager, Eris’ brain was developed enough to start figuring out the undisclosed stares and glances of adults, and their motives. But, she couldn’t quite manage to play along with their games. She knew this was a test from her grandfather, a way to see if she truly was a changed girl. So she stayed still and without outward emotion, for the moment had turned into the most precious of hidden gifts, something that even her grandfather could not take away from her. It was the final gift from whatever God there was up there, a moment that reaffirmed that perhaps not even the darkness and dullness of the summer was enough to ruin her spirit. Eris grinned once then, the only form of recognition she would give to the house elf standing by the door, awaiting the coats of the guests to come. From the way that house elf’s lips turned upwards into the faint formation of a smile, Eris knew the gesture had been received.

And, from the way her grandfather smirked at the lack of words coming out of Eris’ mouth, she knew that whatever test he had just formulated-- she had passed it with flying colours.Still, Eris couldn’t help but silently tug at the folds of her pink dress, scowling down at the endless expanse of fabric. Thoughts of tugging on her uncomfortable dress filled her head, as Adrian Fawley looked towards the door, clearly hearing the soft words of those outside. However, he liked to make guests wait for a faint moment, just to showcase the outdoor beauty of the Fawley Manor.

Indeed, as the guests outside the manor would be able to see, the outside of the Manor was truly a beautiful sight. The entrance to the manor was marked by the long spiral staircase that wound through the abundantly large floral garden. The scent of lavender and rose wafted through the air, from the endlessly sprawling gardens. In the distance sat the garden’s maze, a spiraling labyrinth of leaves and branches that even the wisest could find themselves lost in. However, before the true brilliance of the outside of the home could be appreciated, the twin doors were opened by the house elves situated at the doors. Nym, included. The entrance to the house was just as glorious as the outside, the grand foyer welcoming, extremely large and sparkling in its cleanly glory.

As the twin doors opened, their ancient wood creaking as the house elves opened the doors carefully, Eris was more than entertained by trying to attempt to tug down her dress without seeming conspicuous. If she was to look up, she’d see a barely concealed disappointment to her grandmother’s features, while her grandfather nodded his head cordially to the gathered people.

“Welcome. Thank you all for coming.” The man stated, looking at the guests. Wrinkling his nose at the presents, nudging Eris to accept her gifts, he kept speaking. As he did so, the house elves stepped forward to take any said gifts and any coats or jackets the visiting families had. After the coats were disposed of, it would be time to head to the Dining room. The time for pleasantries would be then, but Demetra still managed a jovial smile at those gathered.

“Lovely night, isn’t it? Wonderful to see such lovely faces, on such a pretty night. You all look splendid.” The Fawley woman greeted, as Eris finally looked up from her dress. Her jaw dropped, ever so slightly. Max was still alive! And was visiting her! And Phae! Phae looked so pretty. Was she wearing makeup? Eris resisted the urge to touch her own cheeks, regretting her own lack of makeup.

Instead, she managed a restrained beam and stopped tugging on the dress. “Thank you for the presents!” Eris stated, her tone rather monotonous, as it usually was when accepting gifts or praise. Recalling nice things to say or pleasantries, Eris realized she was too excited to even bother with the list of phrases that her grandfather had taught her to say. Instead, her grin only grew. “I love your dress, Phae.” Tonight might actually be a good night.

Alisdair had just knocked when a familiar voice came out of the darkness behind them, making Max and Rosalyn turn. The first person he caught sight of was Giannis, and he instantly straightened his posture into something more like a man as he offered a curt nod. It was always intimidating to meet a friend's father; things generally went smoother with the mothers but fathers could be scary about their daughters. A couple of the pure-blood parties he'd gone to previously had taught him that some fathers gave him the most treacherous looks for offering their daughters a smile. Giannis had never been anything but courteous in the times Max had seen him, yet one could never be too careful.

"Good evening, sir," Max said, his voice unintentionally dropping nearly an octave as he tried to sound mature. "You look nice. Er, sensible. Very sensibly dressed." His face heated up, nerves unintentionally making him trip over his words as he tried to come up with something to not make him sound like a complete idiot. He just didn't want to mess this up and have Phaedra's father so angry he wasn't allowed to see her anymore.

A long, soft exhale beside him, and then Rosalyn stepped forward to stretch out a hand to greet Phaedra's parents, ever the graceful one in a social situation. "Giannis and Chrysanthi, we're thrilled to see you here. My, Phaedra's grown - what a pretty young woman. It would appear she has both her mother's beauty and her father's height. You must be so proud."

Max stood beside her nodding dumbly, trying to regain his composure. It had been so long since he'd seen or really talked to any of his friends, and everything he'd learned seemed to have left his head in anticipation of meeting them. When he caught a glimpse of Phaedra he beamed, taking a step forward regardless of the social mores to greet her and exclaim in wonder about how tall she'd gotten. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he wanted to -

A hand clamped around the back of his neck and he stopped dead, feeling Alisdair's fingers flex into the soft flesh there. Though one wouldn't be able to tell from the front, he was veritably dragged back a few steps until he stood beside his father. The touch from the outside may have looked absentminded and paternal, but the undercurrent was so clearly one of possession that you'd have to be daft not to notice.

Max figured his father was simply trying to keep him in line so he didn't embarrass himself, and nodded once in gratitude. He still had much to say to Phae, but since he didn't want to talk and risk making his father look bad, he turned away and let himself be led through the grand doors into Eris's mansion.

Present in hand, Max kept quiet as his father introduced their family to other guests situated around the mansion. It seemed to be a stunning place, however he dared not look around because Alisdair had one hand on him at all times as if expecting him to break free and run off. He had learned his lessons so it was rather annoying, but Father Knew Best.

As they approached the dining room, he risked a single glance backwards to smile in greeting at Phae, then turned to finally, finally see Eris after all this time. She seemed slightly taller, though it was hard to tell since Max had grown exponentially. She was still shorter than Phae yet still full of pep and vinegar, and Max had to suppress a laugh at how excited she appeared.

"I'm - " Another squeeze in the back of the neck and, like a puppet, he spoke his father's words. "Pleased to see you again after so long, Eris. I've brought you a gift I hope you'll find acceptable. I'd like to wish you a sincere and happy birthday."

xxxxRosalyn may not have known it, but Phaedra saw a role-model in her. In her admiration, she thought Max's  mother seemed capable, strong, civil, and not to mention, quite fashionable— one would have to be those things to raise a boy like Max. So when Mrs. Avery called her a "pretty young woman," Phaedra felt her face heat up again, and had to fight the temptation to bow her head and hide behind her black tresses. Rosalyn's compliment was meant more for Phaedra's parents than for herself, but the underlying sentiment only confirmed that she was expected to be mature now. What was the cutoff from girl to young woman, anyway? At that moment, Phaedra didn't know nor care. Her biggest priority was not making a fool of herself tonight.

xxxxHands clasped, she stood silently with the well-practised smile she found exhausting to wear. As her mother responded to the woman's flattering, she met eyes with her closest friend, Maxwell, who looked excited to see her. She felt the same after not seeing him in so long, indicated by her incessant peeking while the adults chat. When he took a step forward, Phaedra grinned and mindlessly rolled onto her toes to stand straighter, those unusual flutters in her stomach returning at the sight of him. It wasn't until Max suddenly halted in place that she realised her breath sat hitched in her throat. She averted her gaze and coughed to herself instead. Damned butterflies. Was she ill? Just her luck she'd come down with something right before the start of term.

xxxxUnlike Rosalyn, Alisdair Avery was not so approachable. In what little Phaedra knew of Max's father to begin with, she had only seen him as intimidating, though most of her father's pure-blood associates shared that quality. Toughness was in the culture, she supposed; the nature of their society required it and, inexperienced as she was, she knew the risks of failing to adapt. She wouldn't dare turn out like her sister. Phaedra considered herself lucky to have a mother that cared about her well-being in environments like these, because lately, she found herself a willing audience to the woman's lessons. There was a surprising lot to digest on the ways of powerful businessmen.

xxxxOne of Mrs. Stavrou's most helpful points to her was learning how to navigate the social scene as if it were a game. As the doors to the Fawley Manor swung open by way of a house-elf, Phaedra had to peer around the bodies standing in front of her to see Demetra and Adrian Fawley, their hosts. The pair could've also despised dinners and the theatre that came with, but if they did, they didn't show it past their professionalism. That must've been the game her mother told her about. It was admirable, really. Urged forward by her mother's hand on her back, Phaedra was whisked from her intrusive thoughts and followed her father after the Averys into the Fawley Manor.

xxxxOnce inside, she pulled off her coat to hand it to a second elf, and then her present for Eris in its free, wrinkled hand. The twin doors of the manor shut behind her mother, who, with her father, took the time to introduce themselves and Phaedra to the hosts. Phaedra gave a little curtsy before the elders, and after the exchanges were said and done with (plus sneaking a smile to Max), Chrysanthi placed a lingering grasp onto her shoulder as if to say 'Go on.' She could schmooze with Eris on her own.

xxxxFree to speak on her own accord, she finally saw the manor's interior for the magnificence that it was. It was always interesting seeing how and where the different families lived. In particular, Phaedra loved the artwork on the foyer's ceiling. She could only spare it a short, longing glance, however, before she was addressed by Eris on way to the dining room. "Thank you, Eris. I love your hair," she replied confidently, mirroring the way Max spoke to her. "And your home. It's an honour to be invited. I, too, brought you a present. I hope it'll be of use to you."

Eris took in the details of her friend's faces, focusing on how grown up they looked instead of the ingenuity of the conversation taking place around her. It was easier that way, to see that the people around her were real. Eris could hardly believe that Maxwell Avery was actually in her home, after vanishing for a year. Eris wasn’t even sure if she was hallucinating or not. And Phaedra looked so grown up and regal. They both seemed so small in the grandiose home of Eris’s family, even with the stark height differences that made Eris feel even more stunted in her own growth. Even if they were small compared to the might of her family manor, they were alive and existent and so splendid to be around. Their company was far better than the company of her sorrowful grandmother and bitter grandfather. Eris had yet to speak to her father, even though they had lived under the same roof for a long while.

Prodded by some reminder that even in joy, social etiquette was supposed to be taken up, Eris nodded her head in demure acceptance of the gifts presented to her. Geustering towards a house-elf to take the other gift from Max, Eris’s tone was pleasantly melodic to her own ears, sounding to her as the perfect pureblood hostess tone. She’d practised very hard and was elated put the pesky hours of monotonous work to usage.

“I am quite sure I shall find both gifts to my liking. Your thoughtfulness in bringing a gift is present enough. It is wonderful to be in the acquaintance of both of you again.” Eris didn’t speak quite as vapidly, nor as quickly, as usual. Every word was thought about. A stark change from her usual behaviour, as she bowed under the pressure to appease her grandparents and the general pureblood population.

A nod was the only approval Adrian risked, but Demetra frowned, the expression almost imperceptible. For a moment, her upset expression lingered, before she was back into the role of a gracious hostess and grandmother.

The elf carrying Phaedra’s present to Eris put it down neatly upon a side table, as the guests were greeted by the sight of the formal dining room. The large hall was as welcoming as a stoically regal sight could attempt to be. With the green tablecloth upon the large table, adorned by polished golden chairs and two candelabras neatly set on the opposing sides of the table, there was little light in the room. This was remedied, however, by a house-elf ripping open the dark green blinds to expose a shaft of sunlight and a view of the floral gardens, the pink and purple shades of the flowers just as vibrant from further away. The glass chandelier atop the room nearly sparkled from the sunlight, spinning in a lazy circle, while a merry fire crackled with warmth in the otherwise lonesome room.

The side table the present had been placed upon was of dark mahogany wood, and a tapestry hung over top of it, a beautifully detailed piece of artwork depicting the lineage of the Fawley family. Most notable additions to the large tapestry were the five dark masses of treachery etched and scratched over until all they were was black blobs of desolate nothingness. One was, to none’s surprise, next to Luca Fawley and above Eris Fawley. The next was beside Eris herself, erasing all memory of her twin. The other three darkened out pictures and names were ones that Eris often puzzled over. Between Enjolras and Adrian Fawley, another person was blackened out. As was the person below whoever the mystery human was. A line that meant marriage was also darkened out, and whoever the mystery person had been married to was just as huge a mystery.

Five stains in the long history of the Fawley family. Five reasons why the current hosts of this dinner party kept up their polite visages, as to remind they were nothing like the blood traitors of the past. Demetra and Adrian kept up a steady stream of conversation with the other adults as Adrian seated himself at the head of the table, Demetra falling into her spot by his right side.

Eris, meanwhile, walked behind the adults. She could not hope to keep up with their pace, not with her legs far shorter than their own. Besides that, she also relished the chance to talk to Max and Phae. They were the first people she had seen all summer who were not her grandparents. Eris’s excitement was palpable, as she grinned at the two, once the adults' backs were turned as they walked. There was none to judge the fierce grin on Eris’s face, even as her cheeks heated up to a crimson colour at how much slower she was due to her small stature. Despite her desire to speak, Eris was silent, focusing on walking and thinking to herself, more than content to do so.

Eris wasn’t very close to Phaedra, but she had always seemed like the type of person who Eris would be lucky to have as a friend. She was beautiful and extremely smart. If anything, Eris admired her for seamlessly fitting into the pureblood world and world of Hogwarts without any strife or needless struggle. Eris was hopeful the two could become closer friends, as Phae was a close friend of Max. Any friend of Max’s was someone Eris trusted.

Eris took a seat at the other side of the table, further away from the adults. This was already discussed. She was to give them space, in case they were to bring up topics that Eris was not allowed to hear about. Business and the like. Eris was also being tested to see if she could carry on a conversation with two respectable children of notable upbringings without making a fool of herself and without relying fully on the support of her grandparents. They apparently had yet to listen when Eris claimed herself friends with both students.

“It really is nice to see both of you.” Eris started, in her normal voice. Just in case her grandparents had gotten exceptionally astute at listening in on conversations, she kept her voice lowered. There was nothing outwardly wrong about her words though, if not for the less pronounced eloquence in mannerisms and vocabulary. “I’m honestly really glad you’re back, Max. Things were quite odd last year. I don’t think I saw anyone around, to be frank. I didn’t even see you, Phae. But, maybe it was because I wasn’t looking up at the ceiling! You’re so tall and grown-up now. I’m totally jealous. I wish I could grow more than an inch.” Eris teased gently, scoping out where the conversation would go in direction.

After his and Phaedra's greetings, Max's father seemed to find the interaction acceptable enough that he would leave his son alone. Finally releasing Max's neck, he took Rosalyn's offered arm and walked away with a single glance backwards that conveyed the message to behave better than any word would. Max's answering nod was almost imperceptible before he turned back to his friends and relaxed his posture enough that he wasn't ramrod straight. Sure, he'd behave socially acceptable, but he could have fun while doing it. It was Eris and Phaedra! They wouldn't go to his parents if he accidentally slipped up and said something more casual; they were his best friends.

"You're going to get neck problems from having to look up all the time, shorty. Did I not tell you to drink more milk?" His voice slipped into informality, though he kept his expression cordial in case Alisdair happened to look over. "It's good to be back, though. I missed you - both of you." He really had, especially since it felt like so many people were constantly going in and out of his life - Dorian and Aubren still stung since they'd sworn to be together through all seven years.

Risking a surreptitious glance around, Max tried to gauge the mood of this particular dinner and find out why everything felt just a little off. He hadn't been to a pureblood dinner in ages, so this all felt a little strange, as if he'd come back from a long journey full of peril only to find the same scene waiting for him as when he'd left. While many of the people in here were quite intimidating, it was a different quality than the people Alisdair did business with. Everyone was more subtle here, and he found he rather enjoyed the refinery of it instead of the usual roughness.

"How were both of your summers, anyways?" This was something Max was curious about, since purebloods were notorious for putting their children through the paces after school. Now that they were all growing up a little and their parents wanted them to mature, he was curious as to how other families were attempting to hasten that maturity. To him, Phaedra had always had a little more than the other students with her calm demeanor, but that didn't mean much to adults. Eris was more on the feisty side which would probably be a hit against her with her family despite how much fun it made her as a friend. "What new scars are we carrying into the new year?"

It was going too far, being too insolent in a time when he should play nice, yet even after all his training his mouth still sometimes came ahead of his mind when he was with people he trusted. Irregardless of anything else, the image of his friends having to jump through hoops to please their parents made him unreasonably angry for grounds he couldn't quite put his finger on. Was this what it meant to have real friends? To not want them to be hurt? All he knew was that as he got older, certain things felt unjust that had previously simply not made sense.

To make up for his words, he put on a warm smile that would look like he'd just asked about their families or some such thing if anyone looked over. The game was always ongoing in public no matter who you were talking to.