intuition || nessa

It was an odd thing how what seemed like the simplest of secrets was the most difficult to keep but she attributed that to her nonsensical desire to control the sort of access the public had to her personal life. But there was nothing easy about it; formally lively and very careless about the sort of image others contrived about her, the young heiress had grown secluded and a little more silent, her outings rare and only when absolutely necessary. She partially blamed her change of behavior on her husband. Wolfgang had always been devastatingly good at keeping himself out of the papers and valued the distance that his position in life had allowed between himself and those that enjoyed speculating about what someone with so much money did in their free time. On the other hand, she knew that the very thought of anyone making sly comments about the heir that she nestled so closely under the thick layers of her robes was enough to drive her to immediate anger. And therefore she persevered, knowing that in due time when the family was ready they would make an announcement about the impending birth in the papers and then she would once again have no control about the criticism of her body or the manner in which she was coming into her role as a mother.

In the meantime, Genevieve endeavored to be on her best behavior much to the pleasure of the staff. While she had not necessarily grown pleasant overnight, there was a noted change in her behavior, something that she had assured her maid was only in an effort to keep her precious child in the best spirits possible. She ate well, devoted time to her research, and when particularly bored would manage to drag her cousin Augustus or her husband off on some small adventure where she could laugh and eat to her heart’s content without worrying about a wandering ear listening in on her secrets or a wandering eye making assumptions about her condition. This desire for privacy felt like true freedom, she realized, particularly when she was not consumed with the anxiety of discovery that followed her wherever she went. It was not as if she was doing something bad, she was married after all and a child was expected, but she felt an odd sense of embarrassment or rather, fear, of what others would think. It had always been her weakness, worrying too much about what others thought and much too little of the opinions of those who truly mattered.

Genevieve’s decision to see @Nessa Regan  came after much consideration. While the heiress had a Healer she often called upon for ailments, the same one that had taken care of her in your younger years, she felt uncomfortable confession her condition to someone that had such close ties to her family. In fact, the only person aware of her condition was her maid and that was because her faithful servant noticed the telltale signs so early on that attempting to convince her otherwise felt silly. “I will keep your secret only if you swear to tell the master of the house before you’ve reached your third month,” she had made her promise and while the heiress felt displeased with the idea of cutting deals with the help, she also knew that Wolfgang would not allow her the pleasure of punishing Effie if he became privy of what she was hiding. And so, Genevieve made the very strange decision to owl an old acquaintance, hoping that the woman had enough professionalism to not divulge her news to the papers but also deciding that if she did, well Genevieve could just as easily claim her delusional. This would not have been an easy task if the help or the family healer had been involved.

Dearest Nessa, she had written in an owl earlier in the week, We were well acquainted in school, I hope that you remember who I am, she had started a little more humbly that the headstrong girl she had been at Hogwarts. I have a spot of business to discuss with you and will be by your shop on Friday at noon, I would greatly appreciate if we could meet alone,she had added, x G. R. she had signed off, it felt odd to forgo her Grosvenor surname but it also was a reminder of how much she had grown in the last few years.

Walking into the shop, she looked around for a moment, wondering if she would recognize anyone there. There was nothing suspicious about a young heiress walking into a blacksmith, was there? For all anyone knew, she was there to buy her husband a gift for whatever upcoming holiday there was. As she spotted Nessa, she walked closer and attempted a smile. “Hello, it’s been some time, hasn’t it?” she started, Genevieve was not exactly jumping for joy at seeing her old housemate but she was relieved that she looked more or less like she remembered, “I know that my owl was probably rather sudden but I hear that you’ve become a rather skilled potioneer? Unfortunately, this is a matter I am not able to discuss with my own family,” she clarified. It was true, the Lovecrafts were well known for their work but Genevieve was not foolish enough to ask them for help and not expect them to go straight to the papers. They were always looking for a reason to shine after all. “But before we get into all of that,” she smiled again, this time more politely. “What exactly is your expertise with...children? Seeing as you work at a...” she looked around the shop once again, “blacksmith, have you given up potioneering all together?”

it kinda goes on and on lol sorry about that evie is very nervous for obvious reasons. let me know if you need any edits or more to go on! <33

"You really should go home at some point Nessa.." One of her countless cousins said as he leaned against the worn wooded door frame that connected her workshop to the main room of the Black Kings store front. Toiling behind her cauldron, like she had been for what felt like months, Nessa gave him an annoyed look before turning back to her notes. "You should talk less than you do." She replied with a bit of sass as she licked her finger tip and turned to the next page of the leather bound thick parchment tome. It was the last three years of experiments, all the things that went right and just as many that went wrong. The dark healer barely noticed as her cousin excused himself with a roll of his eyes and left her to her mad science. She'd told him he could leave early today, so long as he finished cataloging the last of the items their uncle had brought back from Norway. It was a good way to get rid of him without him getting suspicious. Nessa Regan was not the kind of manager to just send the workers home just so they could enjoy an afternoon off. Never the less she needed to get rid of him and this was the most logical way to do it. She heard him leave out the front door and with a flick of her wand and some well placed words she flipped the open sign to say "By Appointment Only" and locked the door. It would allow her expected guest to enter, but no one else. In her line of work Nessa was not unfamiliar with this sort of meeting and she had no problem accommodating.

The young witch had cleared her schedule the moment she'd read the letter from Genevieve. She knew it must of been important if she'd owled ahead of time and asked to meet alone. Naturally Nessa's mind began to reel over what it might be for. Was she looking for some kind of cursed object? Perhaps a poison for her newly wed husband? Or maybe she just needed some soft of custom made object and didn't want anyone to know she was ordering it. Honestly with a shop like the Black Kings, and Nessa's services especially, the possibilities were endless. Nessa Regan was a lot of things but an underachiever was certainly not one of them. She wanted to be the best at everything and she was never ever satisfied. Couple that with a thirst for knowledge and a wicked streak of curiosity and it was clear how she had become a bit of a jack of all trades at such a young age. Not that anyone could ever convince her she was a master of none. Nessa had dabbled in enchanting, accounting, healing, potion making, and so much more in the years since she'd graduated and she was naturally gifted at most of them. Quick to pick things up and stubbornly dedicated the Irish witch was lucky to have a place like the Black Kings to experiment to heart's desire. She spent most of her afternoons following the pursuit of knowledge, testing ideas without the fear of reproductions or loss of budget.

It was just about noon when she heard the door open and she marked the page in her book before heading out into the shop area. The store itself was rather open and inviting with its worn wood floors and exposed beams. The store front was well lit by hanging chandliers that were custom made out of wrought iron and enchanted candles. The shop itself was nicely decorated, everything was for sale even the fixtures, but it was all one of kind type pieces. That was the draw, you'd always find something here you would never see again. Everything was either custom made in store by one of the craftsmen or found on some expedition in a far away land. Most were magical, enchanted by Nessa or one of the apprentices, but not all. There was a little bar in the corner serving local varieties of wine and whiskey but nothing too extensive. The Regan's had learned long ago that customers were far more likely to open their purses if they were sauced up a bit first. Crossing the room the arms of Nessa's flowy jacket floated behind her until she came to a stop in front of her school-hood friend. "Indeed." She said softly, giving the other witch a quick once over and forming all of her own conclusions naturally. Nessa wasn't just an over achiever, she was a perfectionist and that turned everything into a bit of a competition. She was about to ask how she could assist the other woman when Geneieve continued and Nessa let her wait rest on the back heel of her knee high boots. She didn't mind the flattery at all and was careful not to interrupt but that polite smile had feeling a bit suspicious. The Evie she'd known back at Hogwarts rarely smiled like that, at least that Ness had known. When she was extra super sweet and polite it was usually because she wanted something. Nessa had seen the other witch use those carefully crafted (and somewhat envious) charms many times before but she didn't remember ever being on this end of it. She folded her arms across her chest slightly, without even noticing, and continued to listen.

Children?

"Eh.." she muttered, a clear frown on her face as the other witch asked about her expertise with children. "Please Salazar tell me you are not hear looking for a nanny." She replied before fully digesting what the other witch had actually asked. Nessa was good at a lot of things but tending after children was not one of them. She could barely stand to be around the youngest of her family members let alone someone else's. She didn't know how to talk to them, behave around them, let alone make sure they didn't choke and die in her care. Nope, nope, this was not the type of healer she was. She was about to start in on why she would be a piss poor choice when she realized what Genevieve had finished with. "Have you given up potioneering all together?" and then it hit her. The witch was looking for help caring for her unborn child and that was something Nessa might have been able to help with. She'd spent years healing witches and wizards and she was up to the challenge. Her features soon turned up into a smile that the other witch might recognize, confidence for days and a bit of sass was on full display with those pearly whites. "Well I don't do any of the Blacksmithing. Too dirty." She said with a bit of sarcasm before inspecting the undersides of her perfectly manicured pointed black nails. "I specialize in enchantments here but my cauldron is far from dusty, I'll have you know." She finished with a nod.

"Now how about we take a seat," She said as she motioned toward the little bar and for Evie to follow her. "And you tell me what this is all about?"

The thought of Nessa Regan as a babysitter had not once crossed her mind but now presented with the very thought, it made for a rather entertaining visual. “Don’t be silly,” she replied, shifting her weight from one foot to another, “If I simply needed a nanny I would not have bothered to travel all the way to Dublin to look for one, even so to care for what child, exactly?” she added, surely Nessa would have read in the papers if she had had a child, it would be all the rage considering she had just recently gotten married. “No it isn’t anything to do with that, it’s a more delicate matter,” she said, her voice becoming a little quieter as she considered once again if this was indeed a good idea and if so, if it would have any serious consequences for her future should she choose to trust Nessa with information that no one, not even her own family, was privy to.

Taking another look around the shop, the young witch wrinkled her nose a little, the thought of anyone choosing to even work in the blacksmithing business was rather disconcerting. However she assumed that when necessary, one must do what was necessary to survive. In a way, it was what Genevieve was doing now, making adjustments and going special lengths for her own survival. “Thank Merlin you at least have that much sense,” she commented, though her tone was even, it was as if she spoke the words only because they would be expected of her.

Genevieve was quite distracted with everything going on in her head to feel like herself. It was odd how something so small could cause her personality and her outlook to change so much. She should have been careful, she reminded herself, the objective of marriage was to eventually produce heirs but Genevieve had managed to marry someone she deeply cared for, the responsibilities of motherhood were not meant so quickly for people that were in love. “Perfect,” she said, smiling a little in response to her comment, “then you are indeed the person I came to see,” she added.

Uncertain for a moment, she paused before following the woman to the little bar where she took a seat. “I’ll have mint tea, if you please,” she commanded, a little presumptuous of her but the woman was in a way hosting a guest, it only seemed right to assume that she would be asked what she wanted to drink. Then again, who truly knew the sort of manners the Regan children were brought up to value, after all she had heard very good things about some of them and less than stellar things about others. “Well,” she started, pausing as she adjusted in her seat. It did not feel as easy as it had been when Effie had found out, this felt much more difficult than that. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back and assumed an air of confidence she did not possess at the moment.

“I am unfortunately with child, as you know I only became married just recently and well, I did not have any intention of telling my husband but certain…circumstances forced to do so,” she added. “I do not wish for the press or any of my family to constantly poke their noses in my business, my family has a history of…losing children, I’d like to wait as long as possible,” she explained. “I would like to hire you as a sort of---midwife, I suppose, someone that assists throughout and during the birth. Of course utmost privacy is a must,” she added. “But surely you know how to keep a secret?”

"You tell me." She quipped when Genevieve asked what child exactly. Sure it had been presumptuous to assume that was what Genevieve was referring to when she asked about her experience with children but the witch had just gotten married. While the Regan's weren't as traditional as the Grosvenors Nessa knew enough to know producing an heir was surely at the top of the young couple's to do list. It was her wifely duty after all, a thought Nessa found barbaric. She had no plans of ever getting married herself, or being a mother for that matter.  They continued the conversation they were expected to have when reconnecting after so long. Mildly disproving of the other's way of life but in no way actually coming out and insulting one another. It was a dance and Nessa was as used to the steps by now as she was sure Genevieve was. A younger version of the Regan witch might have taken offense to the way Evie was thankful she'd had enough sense to stay out of the blacksmithing business but not anymore. She let that one slide right past her and continued to the bar.

She did however take note of the fact that the other witch had asked for a mint tea, instead of something a little stronger. It was obvious whatever she had come to talk about was secretive, important, and at least a little bit stressful and Nessa found it odd that she had declined any sort of liquid courage. "My pleasure," she commented back before conjuring up a bit of mint tea. It was perfect temperature, a testament to Nessa's enchanting abilities but a bit stronger than Evie might have liked. The Irish witch liked everything strong, even her tea.

Taking a seat on the stool near Evie she took a sip of her own drink as the truth began to surface. Nodding along Nessa's face was emotionless, she wasn't judgmental in this moment, she was just listening. Once the girls had been friends, as much of friends as two witches could be in their world, and even though time had passed Nessa still felt some sense of loyalty toward her. After graduation Nessa had forged her own path, Etain had ensured they would all have that choice after what she'd done, and because of it Nessa wasn't held to the same standards and pressures as Evie. She did what she wanted and was so far from the spotlight she rarely got burnt anymore. It was probably one of the reasons Genevieve had come to her instead of the countless other healers that owed her family some kind of favor. She was familiar with that world, but she was outside of it now.

"I see." She said in between the confession before setting her glass down on the smooth wooden counter top. It wouldn't be the first time she'd entered into an agreement with a client. It wasn't the first secret she had to keep, Nessa had so many of those she'd lost track. Each ring that dangled from a crowded chain around her neck was a physical manifestation of those secrets. It was safe to say she was the witch for the job. "You know I do." She said with a bit of a smile as  her perfectly manicured nails absently toyed with the chain around her neck. She wasn't sure if Evie knew what her role had been during the war but she must have known enough to come to Nessa for a healer. The dark witch hadn't joined the cause, exactly, but she was a concierge healer in high demand back then. Each of her rings tied her to her most elite clients, keeping in constant contact, so she could effectively keep them alive. It was magic she was sure would come in handy over the next nine months or so.

"You won't have to worry about my discretion. How you will keep the secret is another matter, eventually your body will give it away." She took a breath and then nodded. "Surely we can secure some enchanted robes for that." She hadn't even gotten the job officially yet and she was diving right in."I'll need access to any medical records you can get on past miscarriages in your family." No nonsense Nessa started in almost immediately. "Has any healer ever discerned a pattern?" In the back of her mind she wondered if Evie would need more than just her word. If she needed some kind of magical promise Nessa wouldn't refuse.

Genevieve took a discreet sip from her tea, her nose wrinkling just slightly at how overwhelming the taste of mint was, but she forced herself to swallow anyway. After all, it was much better to tolerate it than to risk the terrible nausea that would surely overcome her should she try otherwise. It was no longer just the child that caused her much discomfort but her unease in discussing such a private matter with someone that had become more or less a stranger over time. However, after weighing all of her options, the young witch truly did believe that Nessa would receive little personal gain and therefore would not have motivation nor good reason to seek out the papers with news of the woman’s condition.

Genevieve also liked to believe that when the two young women had been friends at Hogwarts, she had not been a complete terror towards her and had been rather polite in her own way. The Regan family had a long history, much like the Grosvenors did, and though she did not agree with the many traditions they chose not to follow, Genevieve was well aware that following procedure had not come easy to most families—a point that in her mind, only highlighted the grandness of the Grosvenor name.

“I am certain everyone knew how to keep a secret once but—times have changed,” she continued, had she doubted Nessa she would not have made the effort to meet her to begin with but Genevieve still needed to be certain that this would not cause her more grief in the long run. “Of course, I’d pay you generously for your services, several times over the usual amount if necessary as well, name your price,” she added. It was no secret that the young witch certainly had the funds to do it but she wanted to make sure that Nessa also understood that she was more than willing to pay the price for her silence, no matter how much that took.

Genevieve had heard that the woman had played an important role in the war and though the young witch had not known what exactly or to what degree, her talents as a healer preceded her, and it was those very talents that the witch sought out. Loyalty always came at a price, her mother had once told her, it is simply up to you to figure out just how much that loyalty means to you and how much you intend to sacrifice for it. And for the sake of keeping this particular circumstance under wraps, the young witch was certainly willing to pay the necessary amount to ensure that Nessa was not wooed by anyone at the Prophet or any other gossip mag.

There was an odd sense of lightness that the young witch experienced once she had told an outsider what felt like her deepest, darkest secret. Other than Effie, Genevieve had not dared speak of it to anyone else, even her confession to Wolfgang, her own husband, had felt forced and extremely uncomfortable given that it was surrounded by the nasty hearsay that she was having an affair with an old flame—none of it made sense but fantasy had always been much more powerful and certainly more exciting than reality. “I’ve been mindful of my eating and intend to get my hands on some enchanted robes as soon as it becomes necessary. Us Lovecraft girls have always been devastatingly thin, it comes in handy in these sorts of situations,” she smiled a little. Though particularly vain, Genevieve had never been the sort to feel any pride in her figure it was one of the reasons she probably felt the need to tease her curvier classmates and it was that same lack of self-esteem that had encouraged her need for approval from the opposite sex. "Had Wolfie not forced my hand, I would have kept it a secret from him as well, at least until the child was almost due," she said nonchalantly.

“Women in my family tend to be of a weak disposition, particularly when under immense stress, I suppose that had something to do with it. I suspect everything else was simply misfortune,” she continued. Genevieve was not well versed in her family’s reproductive history though when the topic of children came up, her aunt made it a point to remind her that it was imperative that she had an heir as soon as possible and that the family hoped that she was not of a weakened state much like her mother and some of her other female relatives had been. “Anyway, should I lose…the child,” she started softly, her hand moving to her stomach almost instinctively before she moved it away, “well that would simply not do, my family would be positively furious which is why I intend to keep it a secret,” she added. “But before we do, I will need us to draft up a contract, I won’t force you into an unbreakable vow, that all seems particularly dramatic, but I do like to think that the news of my condition is nothing worth damaging your reputation over,” she said, her words a little stern. Genevieve had certainly become more mild-mannered but should she be crossed, there was really nothing she would not do to get her revenge.

“I am certain everyone knew how to keep a secret once but—times have changed,”

The weight, and truthfulness, of this sentiment was not lost on Nessa. Everything was different now. People they once thought were untouchable were being hauled off to Azkaban, betrayed and abandoned by those they thought they could trust, more often than not. Nessa found herself immensely grateful she had never fully committed to the cause. It kept her from being skinned alive by those who were trying to save their own. She took a slight sip from her glass as Evie continued and a smirk drew across her lips at the next statement. She would be paid well indeed. Everyone knew the Grosvenors had amassed quite the fortune and while Nessa was far from hard up she did have to work for a living. She enjoyed the finer things in life and those things were not free. "Of course." She quipped, intending to make as much from this deal as she possibly could. Even if they were still close Nessa was never one to 'do a friend a favor' without expecting something in return.

Nessa gave her a forced smile at the thin comment, pretending she wasn't and had never been jealous of the girls frame. Not that she had any reason to be, she knew she was gorgeous, but it was just a thing witches did. She couldn't help but want whatever her peers had and as a teenager those needs were even more dramatic. Nessa perked up at the confession that she would have kept the whole thing a secret from her new husband, had she been given the chance. The witch couldn't help but wonder about that for a moment. Perhaps they were not the happy couple everyone said they were. Or perhaps there was more to Genevieve's concerns than simply first-time mother jitters. As the conversation moved on Nessa rested her weight against the bar and committed everything Genevieve was telling her to memory. Weak disposition, thin frames, stress, and misfortune, it was all very standard stuff but certainly things to be on the look out for. If there was a history of miscarriage, of weak disposition as Genevieve had so properly put it, than Nessa may have to work for her payday.

Knowing it was only a matter of time before some sort of contract was brought up the Irish witch pushed away from the bar and nodded in agreement. "I wouldn't have it any other way." She stated, ready to agree to a deal but thankful it wasn't going to be a vow. As much as she planned to keep this secret (and make quite a few sickles) Nessa always hated the idea of a vow. She'd of done it, if asked, because she had every intention to keep the secret, but being bound to anything made her uncomfortable. With a quick snap of her fingers a roll of parchment and a particularly witchy feathered quill popped out of thin air to rest on the counter between them. The feather was from some sort of dark bird, a raven perhaps, with it's iridescent blue-ish coloring. Nessa picked up the self-inking quill and scribbled an impressive number onto the corner of the otherwise empty parchment. She turned it toward the other woman and raised an eyebrow. It was her asking price for services, a flat fee. "You will of course also need to pay for any supplies." She said, beginning the negotiations on strong footing though she didn't think it would be much of a fight. It seemed like Evie had already done her research and decided Nessa was the best person for the job, so now it was just a matter of agreeing to the number of zeros.

As she waited for Genevieve to respond to her offer the Quill began scratching away at another sheet of parchment. Drafting up a general confidentiality agreement. She'd done this one so many times she could probably witch it together in her sleep. There were spots for each of them to fill in their name, to sign, and to date, and while it wasn't as severe as the unbreakable vow it was magically binding. A failure on either party to keep up their end of the deal would lead to horrible consequences and Nessa could be a particularly creative witch when crossed. "Please take a moment to read this over." She said as the quill finished and she turned that page toward Genevieve. Her professionalism in this moment was almost robotic, cold even, like they were agreeing to terms on some shipment of goods and not the delivering of a living breathing child. She found it was best to keep emotions far away from things like this. There would be plenty of time for that later. "Changes can be made, should you wish."

Genevieve watched with much interest as Nessa wrote down a number accompanied by a considerable amount of zeroes. “Well, in this case, I am to expect the highest level of service, then, aren’t I?” she commented, the corners of her mouth upturning into a small smile as she considered the last time she had spent that sort of money on anything. Nevertheless, it was of no consequence, the young witch would have happily added an additional zero or two if necessary.

After all, it would not come out of her own pocket but that of the amassed amounts of sickles in her Gringotts account, a combination of rewards for the many family-related milestones she had met thus far. Though it had rarely bought her happiness, Genevieve enjoyed the many advantages that could be bought with her wealth and had no qualms about paying extra just for the sake of saying that she could. Never having had to work hard to earn any of it, the witch relished in the ignorance of not knowing the value of her money.

“As expected,” she continued nonchalantly as Nessa mentioned that she would be expected to foot the bill for any additional supplies, “Nothing but the best for my little heir,” she added, her voice softening just slightly as her hand found its way to rest on her stomach once again as if to make a point. It was probably the most nurturing thought she had had this far but even so, the thought of becoming someone’s parent did not sit with her as well as it should have. Apart from fears of losing the child, Genevieve had never believed herself to possess the ability to be a good mother, something that she attributed to losing her own at a tender age.

When her circle of friends shared the preliminary list of names they had chosen for their nonexistent children or when they discussed decoration options for the pretend child’s nursery, Genevieve wrinkled her nose in disgust and rolled her eyes at the thought. If she intended to reach the next milestone in the life that had been decided for her, she would be forced to have a child eventually but it was something that she had relegated to late in her marriage, the thought of children possibly becoming more appealing at the age of thirty or forty, when she had accomplished all that she wished for herself and her career.

“Will you be willing to come to me whenever I wish?” she wondered out loud, “If I so wish it, will you stay at the estate if my condition deteriorates?” she added, her eyes giving the contract that had been drafted on their behalf a cursory look over, amused by the consequences that had been listed should either of them break their agreement. “Shall I give you my firstborn as well if I fail to turn over payment?” she added jokingly, her posture relaxing momentarily as the contract somehow managed to lighten her mood.

“Apart from the care and the delivery of the child, I would like for you to devise a potion that will not allow these…sorts of mishaps to happen again. I had been taking a potion for some time now that was supposed to prevent unexpected pregnancies but alas I suspect that I’ve either outgrown it or my maid was somehow cajoled into interfering with my plans to bear children at a later age. Then again one child is more than enough, I might even consider giving up the ability all together but for obvious reasons cannot go to St. Mungo’s for any sort of related procedures,” she added. “Surely I can trust you to take care of it?” Her tone was rather cold as she spoke on the matter but the entire thing had taken her by a rather unpleasant surprise. “I certainly hope this is the male heir everyone is expecting,” she said, shrugging at the thought before signing the contract.

"And you'll have it." Nessa replied in short order. She never did anything less than perfect, she was obsessive about it. She wouldn't allow herself to perform at anything less than one hundred percent. The dark witch had always been this way, even as far back as Hogwarts. A mix of dedication and stubbornness had plagued her from a young age. And if she couldn't do something to perfection she would just stop doing it all together. She saw no point in doing something she couldn't be the best at after all. Nessa was happy to see that Genevieve had agreed to her terms, she half wondered in that moment if she should have written a larger amount, but she didn't live in regret over it. She was doing well enough on her own and this would be quite the uptick on her normal rate of pay for such things.

Nodding along she found it sickeningly sweet when Genevieve rubbed her pregnant stomach. Nessa wasn't the motherly sort, she didn't have the patience for it, and she loved herself way too much to sacrifice anything. She raised her eye brow at the cute motion and was happy to move on with the conversation as the other witch began hammering out details. "If needed, yes." She answered to the idea of her staying at the estate if it came to that. Nessa hoped it wouldn't, she didn't much care for sleepovers, but if that's what it took to deliver a healthy baby than she was willing to do it. After all she had to deliver on her half of the deal if she wanted to get paid. Nessa smirked at the next words, wanting to make a joke along the lines of if it lives but feeling it was probably in poor taste. She enjoyed dark humor, but she also enjoyed keeping her jobs.

She left that little quip off the table and instead took another sip of her drink while Genevieve finished reading over the contract. Like it was a living breathing thing the Quill had been updating the piece of parchment as Evie brought up certain things. Adding to it organically until it was ready to be signed. Nessa paid close attention to what the other witch was saying, asking for a contraceptive, but her mind was more interested in the story behind it. What it must of been like to live a life like the woman before her. Nessa was pureblood and her family was well-off and well-known but they weren't like the Grosvenors. They didn't live off of pomp and circumstance, they didn't have maids, and they certainly didn't have so much drama. It was like one of the radio shows her Aunt Mildred was always gushing about, so much mystery and deception.

Hearing the scratching of the quill on paper brought her back to the conversation and she reached for it to add her name. A few big swooping letters and crisp points later and the deal was done. She rolled the parchment back up and took out the wax seal that was in a drawer under the counter. It had the family crest, a magnificent dragon, and she pressed it into the roll until it hardened. "Excuse me for a moment." She said before gracefully turning to head to her office and file away the contract. When she returned she had an ornate dark wood jewelry box with carvings on the side and a glass window on the top. She set it carefully down onto the counter and lifted the case open to reveal velvet lined rows of rings. Some were delicate, others obnoxious, made of silvers and gold and precious stones. Each one was part of a matching set and each had been carefully crafted by Nessa, it was part of her pitch. She was good at more than just potions, honestly that was her second love. Enchanting was her first, it just didn't often pay as well.

"In addition to the first of the potions I would also like you to choose one of these rings." She began, a free hand subconsciously moving up to the necklace chock full of them that hung from her neck. "They will connect us magically so that I can monitor your health at all times. And should it be needed, I can apparate directly to you." She gave the other witch some time to look at the box as she made herself another drink. Genevieve might not have been able to have alcohol but that didn't mean she couldn't. She never got piss drunk anyway, in her line of work she was always on-duty. "I've never connected on of them to an unborn wizard, but when he gets a bit further along we can try." She liked the idea of the challenge, her mind was already ticking along about how that magic would work. Nessa enjoyed the more obtuse magic, the stuff that hadn't been invented yet, and that was what Enchanting was all about. There were rarely spells already created for the things that she did.

"As far as the gender, there are some things we can do to influence it, if you are interested?"

“Then if I were you, I’d make certain to clear my schedule of any extensive outings, I can guarantee that I will call upon you with many more questions over the course of the next few weeks, I simply cannot have the staff snooping around my library book and find, Merlin forbid, any literature on pregnancy, can you imagine the outrage?” she noted, her tone overly melodramatic but somehow very suiting of someone like Genevieve who had a tendency for the theatrical. It was this very aspect of her personality that had often lead many of the staff that waited upon her to cut their loses and find something more suitable and much less demanding. It was a wonder that Effie, the woman that had personally taken care of the young heiress since childhood, was still around considering how bothersome the witch could be, particularly when filled with worry.

“I think you will find our estate rather enchanting,” she said, her eyes looking around the shop as she wondered what the woman before her found appealing about it. “And of course I will happily provide a space for you to do your work, if necessary,” she continued, bringing the cup of mint tea, now tepid, to her lips and taking a generous sip, the mint tea had done wonders for her, Genevieve considered that she might also ask Nessa to teach Effie of this concoction as she would enjoy to have it at home.

Though it was not at its worse, the mornings were particularly difficult on her stomach, but she assumed that her tendency to eat very little to no breakfast was not very pleasant for the child. Genevieve watched the woman curiously as she rolled up the parchment, making an agreement had never put her mind as ease as much as this one had. Then again, Genevieve often left the business to her husband or cousin Augustus as she had very little patience to make agreements with anyone else. Of course, this was an agreement she simply could not ask her husband nor her cousin to make.

Looking down at the case of rings that were presented to her, the witch took much pleasure in choosing one of the pieces the same way in which someone might choose a precious piece of jewelry for a special event. After all, it would be something that she would have to wear on a daily basis, a connection to the woman who would eventually deliver her child in good health if everything happened accordingly. The piece need not be ostentatious, as she would have to explain should her family members inquire about it but something reflective of who she was. Her delicate, long finger brushed against the rings before settling on an aqua stone.

“My mother owned a piece quite similar to this,” she noted, a small smile decorating her face as she considered how appropriate it seemed to use something similar to what her mother had owned, it made her feel connected to her. “Very good,” she noted, agreeing to the idea with much enthusiasm. She was pleased that the woman was taking the job this seriously, the thought of having to send an owl every time she needed advice seemed unnecessary. And if the woman did not come, all she had to do was to make herself ill for a short period of time so that she would feel compelled to show up. “As long as it causes no harm to the child, I think we ought to. I’d like to be aware of any health issues that might arise, I suspect that my husband would not be pleased should there be any defect,” she continued. The thought that Wolfgang might reject their child if he did not his expectations pained her but it surely was the reality of many households across the world. Someone with her reputation could simply not risk anything going awry.

“Us Lovecraft girls are not very good at producing male heirs, hence the number of women,” she joked lightly, “Wolfie on the other hand, well the Reinhardts are quite good at it, I think female children are quite scarce. Either way, if there is any way we can influence the gender, I’d very much like to try,” she continued. “Oh yes, and one more thing. I am not sure if you are acquainted with my husband or his family but I would very much appreciate it if he was not aware of this…agreement between us. I shall let him know in due time but should tragedy befall me, I would hate to be the bearer of bad news. After all, he has already shown much displeasure in me as of late, another wrong step and I might find myself at the end of a very embarrassing divorce,” she revealed, though rather nonchalantly. “You may say you are coming over for social visits when you find your way to my estate or we can always meet somewhere else. Possibly even in Capri, should the dreariness of Cork put me in bad spirits.”

The dark witch fought the urge to roll her eyes are Genevieve's declaration that she would be indeed calling on her services soon, and often, and the demand that Nessa clear her schedule. It was to be expected from a witch of Genevieve's caliber but it still annoyed Nessa. Overly needy clients were the worst, but they always paid the best, and thus, most of her clients were especially tiresome. She was relative free these days as far as emergencies went though. Business was slow comparative to how it was just a few short years ago and aside from the routine check ups, bar fights, and occasional death threat her patients had kept her mostly bored. She would have plenty of time to devote to Genevieve and if things got too out of hand she could also renegotiate for an hourly wage. "Oh, the outrage." She teased, putting her hand dramatically on her forehead with a sarcastic sigh before cracking a smile. "I will make sure to be available at all hours of the day for whatever you need. It's part of the job." She finished, wanting to make sure Evie felt confident in her ability to take care of her. A stressed out pregnant witch was even worse than a needy pregnant one.

Becoming a live-in was not something she had been expecting but now that it was brought up she honestly didn't see the later terms of the arrangement working out efficiently in any other way. If the way Evie was already behaving was any indicator it would be prudent for Nessa to just be close by at all times, rather than apparating in and out at all hours of the day. "I don't believe that will be necessary yet, but in time I may need to take you up on that over." She said in thanks to the other witch's offer to provide her a space for her work. As much as Genevieve was paying her she honestly wouldn't need to work for sometime but Nessa was a busy bee, she could never stop. "When the time comes I will require a work space with at least a desk and a cauldron to make your potions if you want me to be away from your employees." Nessa assumed she wouldn't be cooking up pregnancy potions, pre-natal vitamin tonics, and morning sickness elixirs right in the middle of the public kitchens. That would cause all sorts of rumors, surely.

Briefly she wondered if Evie was planning to have and at home pregnancy but decided not to bring that up yet. There were eight months of things for them to deal with for now. If she did decide to, Nessa would push hard to have some medi-witches that specialize in delivering babies. Nessa would keep it alive until that time, but the idea of actually being there during the labor was not something she was looking forward to. The entire ordeal sounded awfully gooey. After she'd finished pouring another drink and Genevieve had selected a ring Nessa closed the case and tucked it back under the counter. "Good choice." She told her even though the choice really had no bearing on the magic, it was all about the spell, not the jewelry. "I will link these tonight and bring your's to you right away." She set the two matching rings down on the counter and made a mental note to finish them tonight. Nessa was a lot of things, and vigilant happened to be one of them. If she decided to get something done, it got done, without delay.

"While the spell is directly tied to the wearer's life force it is not in any way a drain on it. I do not believe it would hurt the child, it is merely a monitoring system. We will need to wait till he's more developed though, as I don't believe there is quite enough there---" she made a circular motion at Genevieve's stomach ---"for the magic to connect to yet."

Nessa listened, a small smile creeping onto her dark features as Genevieve told her about how Grosvenors were all witches and Reinhardts all wizards. It was a strangely cute story, but she had no idea why she found it so. She wondered if it was because of the odds being against them. Some how all of these concerns that Genevieve was producing only served to turn this whole thing into a competition. Something she could win, yet another thing for perfectionist Nessa Regan to excel at. "I will work up a potion to help with influencing the gender.. but if the child is meant to be a witch... so it will be." Nessa gave her a shrug and knocked back her one finger of whiskey. Some things couldn't be changed, or fixed, or stopped, not even with magic, and it was best to say that up front. She'd hate to get Genevieve's hopes up for nothing. And she'd hate to deal with that drama in the aftermath. "Noted, I won't mention anything to your husband or anyone else I encounter at your home." The Regan witch said with a sharp nod, honestly she didn't like talking to people she wasn't being paid to so she'd of been doing that either way.

 "Do you have any allergies I should know about?" She slid over the idea of Cork putting anyone in a bad spirit. Cork born and bred it was almost sacrilegious to Nessa to suggest such a thing but she knew better than to pick that battle. She happened to love the cold weather, dark gray skies, and near constant fog and rain. Who needed sunlight anyway, she didn't, not with her olive skin tone and light dusting natural freckles. She twisted the stopper into the Dragon Whiskey bottle tightly and tucked it back away for another time before waving her hand and magicking away her cup. It'd find itself in the small kitchenette upstairs, washed and dried, and then tucked away in the cabinet.

"And please, for the love of Merlin, do me a favor." Nessa turned her gaze back to Genevieve with a seriousness that was not to be mistaken. "Do not go and see any Seers." Her words were harsh and leading into her next insulting comments. "They are all a bunch of gossiping hags who deal in half truths and fool's gold temptations."

Genevieve was pleased with Nessa’s willingness to do her duties accordingly, for a moment believing that she might be intimidated by the young heiress’ desire for attention. She was paying her accordingly and have very little qualms about giving her a higher amount if she so needed it, but Genevieve had to also ensure that the level of quality was compatible with the level of service. She had to come to this particular Potioneer for a very good reason, as she had never imagined her brother, or anyone else for that matter, showing the same sort of care necessary for this type of work. “Do not worry about such things, we’ve plenty rooms in the estate to accommodate whatever whim you might have in regards to the safety and wellbeing of my child, and of course your work while you are in my employment,” she said with a small smile. “When the time comes, we might find ourselves off on an adventure into the countryside, anyway, I suppose Wolfie would prefer the child to be born in Ireland but I don’t intend to have it that way if I can avoid it,” she confessed.

There would be no hospitals, they were filled by unsavory folk, many whom Genevieve could simply not trust. Even so, the women in her family had all had their children at home, as they were supposed to, and with extremely limited medical intervention. She had the horror stories related to birth and pregnancy but Genevieve was certain that such troubles would not befall her. After all, she was the epitome of strength, a Lovecraft girl that would not be daunted by something that was naturally part of her duties as a woman. “The sooner the better,” she noted as Nessa promised to complete the task of binding the rings as soon as possible.

“I’m not quite sure how far along I am, I do not keep track of these things, and have been avoiding the hospital for a good reason, I assume it’s quite early but I suspect it could have also happened slightly prior to my marriage, either way being able to monitor the child will give me much needed peace of mind,” she added. Though Genevieve would deny it if she were asked directly, there was a sense of fear associated with the unknown, especially when it came to a subject that was so new to her. She had paid attention in school and knew exactly how this had happened and how it worked but had never felt as out of her element as she did in this phase of her life. What would the child be like? Who would he resemble? How would he bring honor to the family and continue the family’s great legacy? These were all concerns of the young witch as she felt particularly burdened to produce a very specific result.

“Perfect,” she added, even though Genevieve would have liked to be pushier on the topic of gender she also was somewhat sensible and understood the limitations of the world of potions. Not that it would stop her from hoping. “No allergies but I don’t particularly care for the taste of licorice nor nettles,” she noted, in case such ingredients were necessary for any of the things that Nessa intended to make for her. But if necessary, Genevieve could be convinced, a little sugar and a lot of expertise could go a long way in masking the taste of things she did not like.

Genevieve could not help but laugh at Nessa’s final precaution, the thought of seeing a Seer never having crossed her mind until that very moment. “I haven’t the need to see a Seer, Nessa, he will only relay to me information I am already well aware of, that my son will not only be devastatingly handsome, charming, and intelligent but like his father’s family and my own, will bring nothing more than an unsurmountable amount of success to the family line and follow closely with our traditionalist beliefs,” she said, rather haughtily. At least that was the hope. Finishing the rest of her tea, she stood up, extending her hand with the intention of shaking Nessa’s.

“I must return home, I cannot be late for afternoon tea,” she mentioned, “I th-“ she started before clearing her throat, “I look forward to this arrangement of ours and intend to call upon you very soon, should you need anything else from me, do let me know,” she continued. “If you could forward me a list of herbs I might do well to avoid, I’d be very pleased,” she added. Giving the woman a smile, much warmer than before, she took her leave.

[/end]

The idea of being taken out of Ireland to some countryside did not sit well with the Regan witch and shehad  scrunched her nose up at it visibly. Of course, she'd do whatever the job demanded, but Evie wasn't paying her to enjoy it. Nessa knew she wouldn't be able to just guess how far along Evie was by looking at her, especially since she wasn't showing, but she made another mental note to do some research into ways to find out that information. She assumed there would be some sort of spell or potion they could use, after all the dark witch knew a pin prick of dropped into a cauldron could reveal a world of things about someone. She had a whole list of things she had to do and they had barely gotten out of the gates. Nessa knew from the first moment that this was going to be a job and a half, but that reality was really starting to sink in as Evie continued.

"I will get to work on that as well, the more information we have the better off you both will be." Nessa wasn't a nurturer, far from it, but she took her job seriously. Considering everything they had already discussed the Irish witch knew she needed to get started straight away. As soon as their little meeting came to an end she'd be off to the family archives to dig up some information. She too would have to be covert about it, but her family was less pressuring than the Grosvenors. (Except for her crazy smother of an Aunt who wanted nothing more but second-munchkins to helicopter around). Never the less, if discovered, Nessa would just tell them she had a client and leave it at that. She was never forthcoming with information and considering the types of jobs a good portion of the Regan's had they all knew better than to ask.

She noted licorice and nettles, among other things that seemed to iritate or stress the young heiress, and decided to make every effort to avoid them. The easier it was for Evie, the easier it would be for Nessa. Her laugh was not something she had expected though and Nessa pulled a small smirk when Genevieve had. The smile was quickly lost in the proclamations that the other witch was boasting and Nessa did everything in her power to avoid rolling her eyes. "Sounds like you've gone and made you own prophecy then?" She teased just as her new client was finishing off her tea. Nessa shook her hand firmly and nodded as she requested a list of herbs. "I will be in contact, with the rings and other information, soon. I'll have some things for you by the morning. For now just take it easy, don't cause yourself an unnecessary stress." She sounded like a real doctor in that moment, applying platitudes and everything.

"Let me show you out." She added, her hand motioning toward the door and unlocking it with another wave of wandless magic. She had quite the workload now and she was actually eager to get started. It had been sometime since she'd had a real project to sink her teeth into. And she knew in that moment that Genevieve Reinhardt, and her potential heir, were going to be quite the project.

[[end]]