"What do I care how he looks? I am good-looking enough for both of us, I theenk! All these scars show is zat my husband is brave!"
- Fleur Delacour, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Chapter 29
"If you want to know what a man's like, take a go...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Tommy are you sure you want to do this?" Imogen questioned, as the pair walked along the street, people moving around them as they worked to earn their living, something Imogen hated, she knew what it was like having nothing, and then she gained everything. But at a cost of course, she lost everything in one night, just one single night. All because of a prophecy, how ridiculous. Shaking her thoughts away, she watched her husband intently, he didn't have to say anything, she knew what was happening of course, once again Lucian could not stay quiet.
Tommy looked to his wife and smiled. "I'm sure." He answered, as they stepped into the Garrison, and inside the little snug. Tommy swung the hatch open seeing the blonde Irish barmaid. He kind of wished she would vanish if he were being honest with himself. She was like a boggart. He knocks on the little counter before ordering, "give me a bottle of whiskey, and four glasses."
"Scotch or Irish?" She asks, grabbing the glasses.
"Irish." Was Tommy's response.
She grabs the bottle and starts to speak. "I've decided not to go to the races." She says, as Imogen rolls her eyes. "Not unless you give me another two-pound ten shilling towards the dress."
Imogen then comes to her husband's side. "We've already given you three." She states, raising a perfect eyebrow.
"How much did you pay for the suit you'll be wearing or your wife's dress?" Grace asks.
"Oh, I don't pay for suits. My suits are on the house. Or the house burns down. And Imogen, she has hers made by friends." Tommy responds, a smirk in his wife's direction.
"So, you want me to go looking like a flower girl?" Grace asks.
"What I want makes no difference." Tommy states as he takes the bottle and glasses, Imogen continuing to stare the blonde down. "It's not me you're dressing up for." Her husband finishes before closing the doors. It was then their meeting began.
Imogen didn't pay much mind to what was happening, as she was the woman. She didn't have a say. It was one of the many things she despised about being in the past, how women had no rights, how they were treated, it made her sick. She was just glad she had Tommy as her husband he listened to her, but that was because he knew her, he knew how she was. She was his little voice that would tell him, his right from his wrong.
Sometimes he ignored her. But he learned the hard way of course.
Lucian always had a good laugh about it, always.
The meeting was finally over at the two men left; Imogen looked to her husband with a slightly annoyed look in her emerald eyes. Tommy smirked and kissed her on the forehead as they walked over to the bar.
"I thought you only allowed singing on Saturday." Grace said to Tommy, once again ignoring Imogen. Imogen shrugged, not the least bit annoyed about it anymore, she knew her husband wouldn't leave her in anyway. He also knew she would kill him in his sleep.
"Whisky's good proofing water." Tommy stated, as his hand slid around his wife's waist, kissing her cheek. "Tells you who's real and who isn't." He continued to say.
"And what did my countrymen want?" Grace asked Tommy.
"Oh, they're nobodies." Imogen stated, with a smirk on her face, Lucian may tell Tommy everything but, he doesn't tell him everything. "They drink in The Black Swan in Sparkbrook. They're only rebels because they like the songs." She continued to say, with a chilling smile on her face.
"You have sympathies with them?" Grace questioned.
"We have no sympathies of any description." Tommy stated, he wasn't sure why he was still talking to the rat. He was actually quite weirded out by it actually, he wished that he was at home with Imogen screaming out his name, or even just sitting in the library reading. He actually enjoyed the time he would have with Imogen, sitting in silence reading the many books, journals, and even the Daily Prophet.
"Their accents are so thick, it's a wonder you could understand them." Grace tried to joke, seeing she was losing his attention. "Next time, I could translate." She continued.
"You would work for us?" Tommy asked. Even Imogen was a little surprised with how forward the blonde was being.
"I thought I already was." Grace queried. Imogen knew the girl was just fishing, and to be honest it was irritating, she hated that people tried to dig into others' lives. She had to deal with it for years as the girl who lived, everyone butting into her life, asking her things, assuming things. It made her sick if she were being honest with herself.
Tommy and Imogen shared a look, before Imogen then looked at the girl. "So, you are coming to the races?" She questioned once more.
"Two pounds, ten shillings." Grace sasses. It truly pisses Imogen off that the girl was now trying to leech more money off them. But she nodded to Tommy, the man dug into his pockets before pulling the money out.
"Ten shillings." He says, as he lays the money before her. Grace smirks as she takes the money from the counter.
"Buy something red." Imogen said with a smirk on her face. "To match his handkerchief." She finished, before turning and walking away, Tommy following his wife as Grace called out.
"Whose handkerchief?" The woman called out, but neither looked back.
As they walked out into the street Imogen made sure to say one last thing to her husband. "No matter what, even if I do not like her, we do not let anything happen to her, I will not have something like that on my life."
Tommy saw the look in his wife's eyes, seeing the fear and worry, yes, he knew she hated Grace, yes, he too did not like the blonde woman either, but he knew his wife is still a kind human soul. "No matter what Imogen, I will make sure nothing happens to her." And that was a promise he would keep.
And with that the two continued down the street, heading to their home, both keeping a firm grip of the others hand. Imogen needing just that smallest little bit of assurance, something she knew that even though Tommy wasn't that affectionate, he was with her. She leaned closer into Tommy's side as they stepped inside her store, before taking the Floo back to Prevell manor, the two slipping away into the library enjoying the silence.
