"A meet up in the kitchens was called for, baby." Anthea gently patted an elf on the head as it handed her a huge tray full of delicious-looking pastries. "It's what we always do when we have something to discuss."
"This is not a bad grade or an argument with my parents, Anthea." His eyes were still blood-shot, but he had regained most of his composure. "This is Gregory breaking up with me."
"He is not breaking up with you, Mycroft." She walked over to him with a smile and, putting the tray down, put her arms around him. "You guys will figure it out."
"We haven't spoken in two days. If he had decided he would stay here with me he would have told me by now."
Anthea grabbed a bright pink muffin and inspected it briefly before taking a bite. "Well, no one says you have to break up if he goes."
"Neither of us wants a long distance relationship. Or we do, but what are the chances of that working out? If he doesn't succeed it could be just a couple of years, but if he does… and I want him to succeed, I do" He sighed. "I don't think I could do it for much longer than that."
"What's stopping you from going with him, though?" She was still chewing on her pink muffin.
"You cannot be serious. I have a job secured here in the Ministry. My father had to pull a lot of strings to…" He shook his head. "He hates me enough already."
"He does not. And who even cares? He's your dad, he's always been a little bit nuts. Besides, you can't be choosing him over your boyfriend; you're in love with Greg. Come on, can't Papa Holmes pull a few more strings to get you transferred to France? As…an ambassador or something?"
"Anthea, darling, I'm seventeen." He grabbed something from the pastry tray and bit into it. "And this isn't school; I can't just get 'transferred'"
"Why not? You are the smartest guy I have ever met, you have the best grades in the history of Hogwarts, you come from one of the most powerful families in Britain, and you are also a pretty amazing guy, if you ask me. Those French bastards should be begging to have you over there."
Mycroft smiled sadly. "I'm glad you think so. Still…" He played around with the pastry in his hand.
Anthea let out an exasperated huff. "There's something else you are not telling me, isn't there?"
Mycroft's voice was but a whisper. "He didn't ask."
Anthea frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"He didn't ask me to go over there with him, Anthea. Maybe he just insisted to stay here knowing that I wouldn't allow it. Maybe he actually is breaking up with me."
Anthea stared at him for a second, and with the swiftness of a cobra, slapped him on the back of the neck.
"Ouch!"
He definitely did not see that one coming.
"For the smartest guy there is, you are pretty dumb." She huffed again. "Look honey, that boy's crazy for you. He probably didn't ask because he didn't want you to leave your stupid Ministry job for him. But, who cares about that, Mycroft? You can have a stupid Ministry job over there, he can't play for a mayor Quidditch league here."
There was a moment of silence as Mycroft rubbed the back of his neck and processed Anthea's words.
"I would actually like to have a stup… a Ministry job over there."
His friend smiled.
"Come on, it's one last letter you need to write to your father. One last favour you need to ask. Please, honey?" She poked his side playfully. "Also, I bet Greg will need a French teacher, you know?"
Mycroft actually let out a little laugh.
"I think I'll keep that part out of the letter, however."
Anthea's eyes widened "So you're going?"
Mycroft bit his lip. "I'd be giving up a lot."
"Don't be silly, I'd visit all the time! My grandma lives there, I go to France at least twice a year."
She was being playful, but Mycroft felt a huge weight fall off his shoulders. Could he actually build a life in another country with Gregory?
"What about my brother?"
"That… is actually a good question. He still has a couple of years of Hogwarts to go, right? And your parents aren't really that messed up, Mycroft. I'm sure he'll be fine."
"He'll hate me. He'll say he's relieved but he'll secretly hate me." Mycroft ran a hand through his hair.
"Sherlock will have to grow up, eventually. And it's not like you'll never see him again, Mycroft." She put a hand on his shoulder. "The question is, do you really want to go?"