roses and reflection // edgar & florence
Florence’s workplace, a muggle flower shop May 27th @florence-wilson
First the Ministry for Magic, then St. Mungo’s; it seemed that all of the ‘safe’ places in the Wizarding world were crashing down around them. Hogwarts remained secure, but for how long Edgar couldn’t say. He could picture it, each turret and window and brick, toppling to the ground or going up in flames. In fact, he struggled to envision it intact anymore. The Order castle was protected too, yet still he knew it was not impervious to harm. The Death Eaters would find it sooner or later, but hopefully by then they’d be ready. The battle may have been lost. However there was a war yet to be won.
Securing a victory was not something they had any chance of accomplishing while divided. Aversio and the Order needed to join forces if they were to truly be a contender against the Death Eaters. However, merging forces proved to be far more difficult than Edgar anticipated. He assumed that after the disaster that was Aversio’s Ministry infiltration their members would be begging to redeem themselves as part of the more peaceful organisation. Really, he could not have been more wrong. Of course some were, but they were the softer ones in the first place. Those that struggled with the violence created by Aversio, yet wanted to do something. Edgar related to that immensely. There were others he struggled to empathise with.
“Florence Wilson?” He asked, voice raised slightly so as to reach her a few metres ahead of him at the counter. “Fancy seeing you here.” It was not a coincidence and Edgar’s tone betrayed that; he never had been a good liar. He had not sought her company out of malice or price, but to attempt to convince the witch that there was a better path for her. Florence was notoriously headstrong and, although he did not know for certain, Edgar had a hunch she had been part of the rogue group. So there he was, in the Muggle flower shop where she worked, hoping to achieve the impossible; to change her mind. The shop was empty, he had chosen a time he assumed would be quiet and evidently lucked out. “How are you?”