Toujours Pur | Euphemia Black

Chapter 89 | The Potters

"Are you sure your parents will be alright with me just staying here? Shouldn't I find somewhere else to stay?" Mia asked Charlus, about a few hours after arriving at the Potter's household. She was seated on Charlus' bed, freshly showered, and was now dressed in an oversized jumper of his and a pair of her own jeans that Clover had bought her one Christmas (for Cassiopeia and Arcturus never would've even dreamt of buying Euphemia Muggle clothes).

"Oh, they already know you're going to stay," Charlus shrugged, in a rather nonchalant fashion. He smoothed down his hair in the mirror, putting some sort of gel on it to make it stay down as he turned back to his girlfriend, who's mouth had dropped open as she stared in disbelief at him, "What do you mean - 'they already know'?" Mia questioned in disbelief, her eyes widening in surprise.

Euphemia had known that Henry had helped to save her from the wedding mere hours ago but she hadn't expected Charlus' parents to be so willing to allow her to stay in their house, especially as there probably wasn't a spare bedroom or enough room in the cottage for another human being.

"Well, I told them about the entire situation when they found me drowning my sorrows in endless cups of coffee and my parents helped to establish the plan that saved you from there," Charlus informed her gently, plopping back down beside her and taking her hand in his, squeezing it tightly when he saw that Mia's eyes had filled with tears, "What's up, love?" he tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear affectionally, still in disbelief that she was actually there, safe and in his presence.

"I just....why do your parents care so much? They don't even know me, they didn't have to help me..." Euphemia trailed off, heavily touched by the Potters' gesture and how they had been the ones responsible for her rescue. Charlus smiled softly at her, "They know how much I love you. And they said they'd do anything for you because you must be a pretty amazing girl if you can love me, of all people, back," he placed a sweet kiss on Mia's forehead and smoothed her hair down, inhaling her scent.

Euphemia's mouth dropped open again, this time no words issuing from her lips as tears welled up in her eyes before Charlus wiped them away gently, grabbing her hand again and pulling her up to her feet as he bowed and placed a kiss on her knuckles in a very gentlemanly manner, "How would you feel about meeting the rest of the gang, m'lady?" Charlus asked, "You've already met my dear old Papa but the girls are back now," he added, feeling a thrill at hearing her giggle at his shenanigans.

"I would love to, kind sir," Mia beamed before leaning into him as he led her down the stairs, with her looking around with interest once they were out in the upstairs hallway, seeing the different bedroom doors emblazoned with their own decorations that represented the personality of each inhabitant clearly.

For example, Rochelle's bedroom door was clearly the one with the polite notice saying, 'Please knock before entering' which was surrounded by drawings of flowers and hearts, to the side of a very sparkly, very pink letter 'R' that dominated the door. And Olivia's bedroom was obviously the one with tiara stickers and funny slogans plastered over the door such as 'I didn't ask to be a Princess - but, if the crown fits...' and 'No peasants allowed' plus the rather large message in the middle of the door that said 'Enter at your own risk - Queen Liv does not like to be bothered, inferior beings must make an appointment.'

"Your sisters seem lovely," Euphemia chuckled as they made their way down the stairs towards the living room, Charlus' hand still holding hers protectively. "Yes, they seem lovely but, wait until you actually meet them. Rochelle is whiny and annoying and Olivia is the devil's incarnation, trust me," he told her and Mia laughed again before instantly quietening when she realised that they had reached the closed living room door, hearing the sounds of the Potters through the door-hole.