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Messages - Eugene Prothero
1
« on: Yesterday at 13:05 »
His office was not a playground. Even out in the living areas, Eugene preferred it when they toys were not strewn around, though it was less clean than in here. He had been teaching his children to pick up after themselves, though it very often turned out that it was Harmon picking up after the lot of them.
With the antics of this one - it was hard to not smile.
Eugene's hand shot out to stop the spinning, ever the one trying to place order into a world of unpredictable children. For all his love, he often found himself wanting them to act more like little adults, more like himself at their age. But his circumstances had been starkly different - he had been an only child, and sickly. This rowdy bunch was, at least, a healthy one.
Eugene knew. He was their closest doctor, after all.
"Wizengamot is the all the papas who make all the big decisions."
"Very good," he said, and now he was smiling.
“They’re the goodies. And they decide which badies have to go to prison forever. And you’re the powerfullest of them all and they have to do what you say. Right, papa?”
His eyes gleamed down at her, with the pride of a father as successfully flattered by his five-year-old daughter.
"I'm not the most powerful," he corrected, though he wouldn't have minded if it had been that way. "The most powerful is called the Minister for Magic. His name is Pryce Hir," Eugene explained. "And the Wizengamot decides on all the rules. Do you remember any of the rules, Pretty? If you don't want to go to prison?"
He knew this was a hard question, but Eugene had always tried to set a certain standard. Children were smarter than they looked, and he liked to set his expectations accordingly. Besides, the earlier they learned these things, the easier they'd be to remember, later.
2
« on: 03/26/2025 at 17:43 »
The shifting of Political Wizarding Britain was a tricky one. The rule of Pryce Hir had been comfortable, aiming for the single goal of stability which to a large degree had meant leaving them to do as they pleased, as long as they did not stir trouble. They had their own rules within the Family, and Eugene would have much liked for them to continue the quiet reign from their private little island.
But he was also a man that was out there - working his duty in the Wizengamot while keeping his position at St. Mungo's. He enjoyed that, being busied as a reminder of his position and the importance of the things they were doing. With Harmon stepping up to take his place beside him and Cephas working from the sideline it was easier to delegate the workload too. They were growing up to be fine, young men.
Then there was this --
The stolen moments with Florence were important to him, knowing she was there, always, as she had since they had first graduated, as he had been there for her further back into their days as students.
It was important for him that she knew. That his appreciation never dwindled, never leaving any grounds for doubt.
"She runs the Hospital Wing? Hopefully our son doesn’t become too infamous to her. Though I daresay it’s a good thing for a doctor to become too familiar with anyone - unless they’re married to one."
He smiled at her as she leaned into the cabinet.
"How about a red?" he suggested. He had already had champagne, and a proper rich, Italian wine had always been a favourite. Eugene had always been fond of routine, of placing everything according to order, of knowing what happened when and arriving home to the familiar.
Eugene liked tradition - as long as noone said anything and everyone were happy there was no need to start messing with something that was clearly already working.
Letting the topic of their youngest pass - that boy got enough attention already as it was.
"What have you been up to today?" he asked.
3
« on: 03/10/2025 at 13:01 »
He welcomed her kiss, ever pulled into her as he was, since they had first gone to school together, though he was less stiff now than he had been back then. The years of experience and getting to know each other deeply, of bringing up four children, would have done things to any relationship, and there was a space for all things - for the passing of passion to companionship, and the transferrance of that first intensity into a mild, but steady, sensation of emotional security.
“A lively dinner, then? - Or did he almost put you to sleep?”
Eugene drew a breath, one that was rich in the smell of her hair and perfume, though it was more due to their immediate proximity than his actually meaning to draw her in. He had caught her tone and unwrapped himself from the embrace, turning to start the unbuttoning of his coat.
"Tomas is a compelling man," he said, while lively was perhaps not the right word for it. "He knows his craft."
Tomas Bellestrom was a man very different from Eugene Prothero, strong and masculine and charismatic in ways that Eugene was not. Impenetrable, too, in the way so often found in men expected to dominate the spaces where they went and, truly, this he did.
Eugene was more content in the background of politics, playing the diplomat while really playing a game for himself. His was more a character of the dark horse, waiting in patience for the opportune moment. It was Family First, blood and validity. But she knew this - that everything he did, he did for the lot of them.
He also knew that she was likely fishing for details that she knew he could not give, and that she was likely to disagree with anyway.
He hung his up his coat on an intricate wrought-iron coathanger and proceeded to remove the suit jacket under, continuing with his tie and then unbottoning the top buttons of the striped white shirt.
"His daughter runs the Hospital Wing in our old school," he commented, finally kicking off his shoes and finding a seat on a chair by her, placing one leg over the other. The fact of the matter amused him. He had been Hospital Wing staff once, apt as he had been at the medicinal ever since developing his early interest in the art of taxidermy.
"Do you want something to drink?" he asked, casting a glance at the cabinet accross the room.
4
« on: 03/10/2025 at 11:40 »
The handgrip was firm, matched by his own, approving, clear blue eyes locked on the other.
Eugene Prothero was a man very different from Tomas Bellestrom. Tomas' presence was demanding, fiercely charismatic in a way Eugene had never been, and masculine in a dominating sort of manner.
Though his position as Head of House might suggest otherwise, Eugene had never been one to grab the spotlight voluntarily - after his transferrence from Durmstrand he had been a Ravenclaw, observant, fiercely strategic.
But he could play roles. He had to, with the opportunities, and challenges, that life had tossed his way. Subtly opportunist, in the reserved Prothero kind of way.
“And I imagine you approve?”
"I am a man of family," he said, mirroring the Minister's movement and sitting down on his chair.
"What's first on the agenda, now that the power is yours?" he asked, a lightly humorous smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
5
« on: 02/18/2025 at 23:29 »
The Prothero Castle, Wales
April 1974
[Part I] It was late. He'd had a glass of champagne. Golden. Felt the tiredness in his body, somehow gentle and heavy all at once. Arriving in Porthcawl with a swish and a turn, the apparition brought him straight into a hurl of wind outside the entrance to the Prothero Castle. He stumbled, but was not unused to this, straightening himself, cloak dancing in the wind, and gazed up at the looming walls of home. The doors creaked open and shut behind him, and it was quiet, but the lights were lit and his feet steady as he moved through the building, heading for their chambers, the sound of his footsteps tapping against the intricate tiles of a vast floor. On the walls of the corridor hung large tapestries, their vivid colours and minute details visible in the faint light. He swung left and came to a door, moved past, inside, and she was still up, leaning over some table, doing something. Without taking off the coat, he walked over and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling at her neck, relishing the warmth. "I had dinner with Bellestorm," he said. With political Britain in turmoil, and Tomas Bellestorm on as the new Minister, Eugene had been quick enough to reach a hand to an old alliance. He was conservative though, highly traditional, and Eugene and Florence did not fully agree on the political matters, on what was the better way going forward. "Now I'm tired."
6
« on: 02/12/2025 at 19:44 »
He forgot sometimes, that the little ones could be a flurry of limbs and energy. Even as a child, Eugene had been a quiet one, and Harmon had not been that much different. With Cephas and Pretoria though, they only seemed to have picked up on energy.
Then again, there was some Florence genetics running wild in here somewhere.
Quickly, she was on his chair, and he was already pushing away some of the things perched on his desk that he needed to keep out of her range.
"Careful with that one," he said, gently taking the quill from her - while it was less likely that she might hurt herself on it, he did not want to risk any ink spill. Besides, he intended to use it for making some quick notes and signing this paper.
“Patrick looks bored, papa."
"Maybe you should entertain him."
He looked down at her, noted the skepticism. So different from the approach of her brothers. He would have thought that she got used to them by now, considering how many there were of them, spread around the castle. And they weren't about to disappear anytime soon, that was for sure.
"I'm signing a a paper for the Wizengamot," he explained patiently, answering her first question. Finding a small key from his pocket, he opened a drawer of his desk to shuffle through the filed documents in there. "Do you remember what the Wizengamot is, Pretty?"
7
« on: 01/25/2025 at 18:07 »
"And do they help?" he asked. From what he could gather, she was a hardworking girl, which made sense from the other information he'd gotten thus far. He listened with patience, to her explanation of needing a clear head for work. And noted the fact that she had both a day job and a night job, which must be tricky for the sleep situation.
"I'm just assessing the situation for now," he let her know, not without a mild smile. "The point of these follow-ups is to find out whether what we're doing right now is working."
"I also--I mean, not that I'm telling you how to do your job--I'm sure you're phenomenal--well, I can't be sure but I think....you must..."
There was no visible response from Eugene. He'd heard all of this before. But it did reveal that he'd have to be careful. It was all being done in service of her health, but most patients needed to feel ownership to that situation. And there was no point to being a healer if you were not willing to listen and forge the solutions that would fit their specific contexts.
However, many also waited for things to spiral before seeking help and many more did not take their symptoms seriously.
"I'd rather...rather not...need to depend too much on the potions. Dad's--he's always saying--nevermind."
He looked down at the paper for a moment.
Dad - that'd be a muggle then.
"I am going to recommend that you take some time off work," he said. "If you cannot sleep, your body cannot rest - this could affect your mental and physical wellbeing and prolong or worsen the pain." He said this to the piece of paper, brow knit as he thought about this.
"Would that be doable?" he asked, turning back to look at her, sympathetically.
8
« on: 01/13/2025 at 14:09 »
He listened, watched her as she gave the accurate location.
Direct hit.
"Good, thank you," he said. Dipping the tip of an equisite hawkfeather quill into a bottle of dark purple ink, he scribbled down the details that had been missing.
Turning a page he quickly glanced at the little M in a corner.
Muggleborn.
While it did not have to mean much in terms of magical ability, it was a useful indication for a patient's familial and social circumstances.
He stored the little piece of information in the back of his head, and turned back to the woman.
"Like your head is splitting open," he said, repeating her words from earlier. Elbow to the surface of his desk, he rested his chin in the open palm of his left hand and locked her in a blue gaze. "That sounds uncomfortable," he said, and although his tone was relatively straightforward, it carried with it a hint of empathy.
"Have you tried taking anything for the pain?" he followed up. "Any potions, for example?"
9
« on: 01/11/2025 at 18:09 »
Eugene Prothero was not the typical face to be found around St. Mungo's. A lot of people had asked why he was still here, as his position in society, particularly in that of pureblood society, spoke in favour of him rising to something more important.
The truth was that enjoyed being a Healer. And it wasn't as though he lacked things to occupy him, having his role in the Wizengamot alongside fathering four children and responsibility for a bunch more. And that was part of the point too, that he had prioritised running the Family.
That Family always came first.
Besides, being a Healer enabled him to take care of his Family in the most important of ways.
She was shy, as her downcast eyes let him know, but the reason for it was unclear. Either way, it was not a behaviour that he was unaccustomed to dealing with. And as she started speaking, he leaned back in his chair, waiting patiently for her explanation.
"I'm sorry to...to be taking up your time. I...they suggested I come by for a follow up. I--I was here the other day. There was--you probably already saw it in the file--work accident. My head still feels like--like it's splitting open. Wakes me out of my sleep s--sometimes."
"Miss Grimsbane, is it?" he asked. The file was sitting on his desk which - like the rest of the office - was meticulously tidy. Now he put on a pair of black-rimmed glasses and glanced down on the paper before turning back to the young woman.
"Would you mind describing to me the nature of the spell that was cast, where and how it hit, and your immediate reaction to it?"
While some of this information was already on the piece of paper before him, Eugene often found that other Healers left out some of the little details that he liked to take into account. Besides, it said that Grimsbane was an Obliviator, and continued exposure to mind spells was known to sometimes have long-term effects.
10
« on: 01/08/2025 at 21:28 »
If someone had tried to tell him what it was like to have children, he would not have believed them. But he had never doubted either, that it would happen - he had grown with expectations of what would become of him, and he had exceeded them. The truth was that he'd been unprepared. He had grown up blessed, a lone child and sickly, but never lonely and always deeply cared for. And it was his mother, Moira, that had first schemed for him to become who he was today, head and patriarch of the Family. And yet, the brilliance of the moment, the intensity of the warmth inside when holding his daughter and hearing her speak, and the mere absurdity that this being was a miniature human of his own creation -- "It's a very pretty angel on the Christmas tree," he confirmed. Then reached down to get another. And his eyes shone with happiness.
July 1958
The Prothero Castle, Wales
Her hand was in his as they made their way through the living space and into the hall, for the great office with the door that said Eugene H. Prothero. "Will you help your father sign a paper?" he asked the five-year-old, letting go of her hand as they reached his desk. Opening a drawer, he pulled out a beautiful hawk feather quill, and a small bottle of black ink. "Maybe Patrick wants to join too," he said, and then pulled out a small squirrel that he had stuffed some while ago, and which had served as a toy for her brothers before her. It was only very rarely that he allowed them into his office.
11
« on: 01/04/2025 at 16:33 »
September 1973
"Welcome," he said. "My name is Eugene Prothero, how may I be of help?" The door had opened and closed. And he had reached out his hand for the greeting, then sat himself down at the chair by his desk. Appointments that went via the office were usually of the less serious sort. Now he looked at the patient through black-rimmed glasses. On his desk was the wand that he tended to use for work (and, occassionally, for taxidermy). In a pocket on the inside of the white healer's coat he kept the wand that was his family heirloom. The man was in his early fifties and the air around him was calm, not uninviting, and strictly professional.
12
« on: 01/02/2025 at 23:14 »
Eugene Prothero was, by no means, an extrovert.
But it was easy to put on a show when there was real pride in your steps, when meticulous planning had slipped you perfectly into the role of Head of Family since nineteen and you'd spent over thirty years building this - the Prothero empire was built to last and they raised each other up.
For those who had gone to school with him, the display might have been odd, for he had been a boy in the background, quiet and thought through in everything he did.
But Eugene Prothero had aged well. For he'd had a good life, surrounding himself with the people that he loved - and with those that loved him. That was one of the perks to owning your own island, of keeping your family in your Castle, many of which never moved even as they got married and had children of their own.
And he moved with grace, black suit tailored to perfection, the deep purple of his tie stark against the shimmering silver of the shirt underneath, intricate, woven with a black pattern of little birds. On his arm shone the true diamond that was his daughter.
"This is Eugene Harmon Prothero, Head of the Prothero Family and member of the Wizengamot," said Eugene, a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. "And these are my sons, Harmon and Cephas," he continued, gesturing to the two men in their early twenties that followed behind. While his heir was more of the serious sort the younger, Cephas, ever the social butterfly, presented himself with a smile of undying charm.
"And my daughter, Pretoria," said Eugene, doing a circle motion with his free hand in signal for her to take a spin and encouraging her with a bright, white smile, before letting her go so he could properly greet the hosts.
"Mr. Dankworth," said Eugene then, offering his hand to shake the other man's.
"And Miss Dankworth - you look absolutely stunning," reaching for her hand to offer it a gentle kiss - if she'd allow.* He knew so very well the spot that daughters cold hold in the hearts of their fathers.
And however false the warmth of the Dankworths, his radiated true in that moment, when faced with people who thought and believed and relished the same things as himself. Remaining in their vicinity, as he allowed for the rest of the Family to spill into the crowd and do their thing.
To find himself not without company.
"Mr. Ellwood-Luxe," he greeted, but it was with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes.
"And Eve."
The three of them were old schoolmates, back when he'd transferred from Durmstrang to teach his cousin Florence, now his wife, the ways of the pureblood. Eve Hallows had been his housemate. But if there was any common ground, if there were any similarities between them, Eugene did not show any signs of recognising them. On the contrary, he found them to be radically different - they'd taken vastly different turns in their roads, carved out starkly different paths.
(Better a pretender than a traitor.)
By this point, the Ellwood-Luxes were no better than the Undergroves. And judging by the entourage, Cassius was feeling threatened.
Good.
(They could dig their own grave.)
---
*Permission to greet Katherine before she went off with Jack.
13
« on: 12/30/2024 at 12:57 »
Christmas 1956
The Prothero Castle, Wales
She was the little ray of sunshine. The light in their stormy night. Three years old and dressed like a queen, by courtesy of Florence Prothero. The women of the Castle were scurrying around, reorganising. His mother, Moira, and his aunt Claudia forever present, were having some sort of discussion about the curtains, while Florence was busy setting the table. Cephas (age 5) was running around their feet, while Harmon (age 8) had settled by the large leather sofa with a picture book. And little Pretoria was on his arm, leaning against his shoulder and his suit-clad chest as he reached an arm down to pick another Christmas ornament - a golden angel this time - giving it to her so she could put in on the tree. "Maybe here?" he suggested, fingers curling around a branch of the evergreen, to assist in bending the branch her way, should this be needed.
14
« on: 12/23/2024 at 17:08 »
December 1972
In the expensive restaurant
located at the top of the Tower
He was already there when Tomas arrived. On the table was a tray of appetisers, a bottle of expensive champagne. Two stemmed glasses, empty, awaited his arrival. Eugene got up from his seat then, stepped forward to take the other's hand in his and giving it a proper squeeze, approvingly, locked Tomas in his blue gaze. "I heard your speech," he said. The triumph in his voice was mild, but it was there.
15
« on: 12/22/2024 at 17:47 »
Sign-Up Name: Eugene H. Prothero.Date of Birth: 6 February 1920.
Requested Department: Spell damage.Requested Position: Healer.
Expertise: Magical surgery, taxidermy.Professional Biography:Field Medic, 33rd Wizarding Infantry Merlin's Order of Defense (1939-1940)
Junior Healer, Spell Damage, St. Mungo's (1940-1941)
Healer, Spell Damage, St. Mungo's (1941 - current)
16
« on: 12/22/2024 at 17:39 »
Wizengamot Sign-Up Name: Eugene Harmon Prothero, for the Prothero Family.Date of Birth: 6 February 1920.
Statement of Consideration & Heritage Documentation: This can be left blank, but adding IC family lineage & documentation is encouraged! See here for an example.
17
« on: 07/23/2016 at 19:26 »
EUGENE PROTHERO
28. HEALER & WIZENGAMOT. RAVENCLAW. we're colleagues, but other than setting our families first we have very little in common. could be interesting?
18
« on: 02/23/2016 at 00:05 »
Eugene Prothero I'm a healer, you're a healer. I'm a pureblood, you're a pureblood - we're basically a perfect match! Well, colleagues, connections, all the crap. 25 ✦ pureblood ✦ healer
✦ looking for ✦ colleagues/friends/allies ✦
19
« on: 05/25/2015 at 16:31 »
Name:Eugene H. Prothero
Blood status:Pureblood
History:You're pure, I'm pure, we've possibly formerly met in the parties that follow with such status. Now we're collegues (Eugene at Spell Damage). We've exchanged a few words now and then, but we don't really know each other.
Plots ideas:Let's run into each other at work?
20
« on: 04/12/2014 at 22:54 »
Eugene will most certainly be interested in building new connections and keeping old. We could plot either way? Although if it's something old, then Flo needs to join in, because she's the one with control of those  The Ricardus family is also of major influence, but I can't toss any plots around there, because Loxias is the bossy 
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