"I Would Not Host A Ball For You, I Would Host A Ball For The Pleasure Of Hosting One. I Am An Excellent

"I am indeed. I do apologise for not sending a letter ahead of my arrival, but it was all rather sudden." Her parents had taught her better manners than that but she had been quite impatient and had decided to just stop by instead of bothering to send a letter and then wait for a reply. This was more efficient.

"I had an idea for this dark dress, perhaps navy or even black, big skirt and some sort of sparkling fabric that looked like the night sky." She could picture it in her head already.

There was joy within her features, a smile lighting up her eyes when she spotted the other witch. Oh, their shared history had turned into a rather wonderful little thing. The last she’d seen the other the blonde had made sure to confirm said internship. And what a joy it had been. “You’re back in London. Look at that.” Leta pointed toward the back of the shop as she motioned for the shop clerk to tend to the rest of the show room.

“Come on, tell me about that dress of yours. And about Paris. And everything else one needs to know. I’ll make sure to fit it in somehow, even if it may take a moment.” Leta Rosier felt no hostility toward the other witch. In fact, whatever games had been played by others were entirely up to them. They had walked separate paths and eventually they had become on; and the seamstress was more than happy with it. - @serraborgin

"You should let me style you sometime. I could elevate your style. I would be really good at that." It sounded like fun, picking clothes for someone else and Mira was someone she liked so she wanted her to look good. "Plenty of people, you're right, but I heard that Malcolm's here.." She sighed. "I'm avoiding him."

Mira couldn't help the laugh that fell from her lips at the confidence in Serra's voice. She may not have agreed with her at times, but she had to admire her confidence. "Mm well on occasion I have my moments." She mused, taking another drink of her champagne. "I'm sure you can survive for one evening. Plenty of people here that are dressed and up to your standards to keep you busy after all. Have your eyes on anyone?''

Serra had been minding her business until she heard her boyfriends name from the other side of the bathroom, storming over in a flash of anger. Scoffing when she noticed that it was Charity Burbage. Even though she was older, Serra believed herself to be the better person, certainly the better looking one. There was no way Malcolm would even look in her direction. He was her boyfriend. And she was talking about their meet up spot. There was no way this was true. "Stop lying, Charity. This is embarrassing."

where: girl's bathroom, hogwarts - flashback who: @serraborgin & @themalcolmparkinson

Charity was in a better mood than usual, not as annoyed with people approaching her as she most generally did, so when the Hufflepuff girl joined her in the bathroom and asked about her day, she didn't exactly tell her off. The conversation flowed easily and just for this one time, the witch allowed herself to engage in this sort of girl's talk, bringing up boys and what not. Perhaps because she did have something to share, having had quite a fun night with Malcolm not long ago. "Me? I'm not going to say I'm innocent, I did meet with up with Parkinson this week." She offered with a shrug of her shoulders when the other witch asked if she'd been seeing any wizards. "He took me to a secret party hall in the dungeons and Merlin, he had to cover my mouth so my moans wouldn't get us caught." Oversharing maybe, but Charity wasn'tone to hold back her tongue in any case.

"I care. I'd much rather receive a letter from an owl that looks well looked after, than some raggedy ugly one." She didn't see what seemed to hard for him to understand, it was completely logical to her. "First impressions carry a lot of weight Mr. Avery."

“Who the fuck would care what your owl looks like?” Clyde asked, baffled. Was everyone else really this vain, or was it just Serra? The Minister didn’t care what his owls looked like, but the Minister was also an idiot. Merlin did she actually have a point? “Wouldn’t the letter itself leave more of an impression?”

It was a scary thought, opening up to him again. She'd kept herself and her heart away from him purposefully, for many years now, as she'd worried about the power he had over her. They were like magnets, pulling towards each other, helpless to do anything against it. Was it the same for him? She wondered. Did he feel the same way she did? Still, she was too proud to show him how much he affected her. Of course she wanted him too, she thought a part of her would always want him, it was in her nature. He had only gotten more handsome in their time apart, the dark blue of his suit bringing out his eyes. She had only half listened when he spoke about traitors and nodded her agreement, distracted by how close he was standing. "You want me? Prove it." Her tone was playful, a hint of a challenge in it. She wasn't planning on making it this easy for him, she wanted him to put in the effort to get her back. Him giving her the upper hand in the wedding planning was a good start, she'd always known how she wanted her wedding to look like. The groom in her childhood fantasies had always been him as she grew up and he had broken her heart she had pushed those thoughts away. "I know what I want."

Malcolm couldn't remember what he had for breakfast on a good day so it wasn't a surprise that he couldn't pinpoint the exact timeline of him and Charity. There was a part of him that did remember, but it was all a haze that got lost under a weird thrill. Malcolm knew that Serra meant every word that she said and he would be the fool if he didn't believe her. It wasn't about being careful. He would've wanted this even if there wasn't a contract binding them together. "Trust me, I understand what can happen to a family's reputation. There's traitors making a mess of society and I'm glad none of them are here. I want this, I want you," he says. "I've wanted you and I wouldn't do anything to change that again." Maybe this wasn't the best place to have this conversation, but he had yet to ask if this was what she wanted. She probably had a line of suitors wishing for her hand, but they weren't the ones standing in front of her right now. "Oh, I do not question how green might look on you, but I was referencing the floral arrangements. We can plan whatever you want. I've heard that Emir had little to say in the arrangements here and look how good it turned out."

status: for @rsrevan, @miraxselwyn location: borgin manor

Serra was in an excellent mood tonight, tipsy on attention and gifts, as well as several glasses of champagne. It was her birthday and she'd been showered with presents left and right. Her parents were being particularly generous this year, which while she noticed she didn't comment on. Perhaps they wanted to make sure she didn't have any wayward plans of following into her idiotic cousin's footsteps. As if. A cautionary tale more so than a role model she'd always been to Serra. Floating around in her pink dress she smiled when she spotted a familiar face. "Welcome. Have you had the champagne yet? It is quite delicious."

For all her effort in acting blasé and cool, she was more nervous than she let on. Especially when he was so close to her. He was a handsome man after all, someone she was interested in rather than a boy not worthy of her time. "I think I could definitely think of something." A masquerade would be fun and she knew her parents wouldn't deny her if she wanted to throw a party. She was focused on him fully. He was in her space now, standing centimeters away.

"Perhaps I do, but only if you care for me." Women of her standing had certain standards and he was a prime example of an eligible bachelor, but she wanted him to admit that he liked he first, simply for her ego's sake she wanted to hear him say it. While she hadn't planned on settling down anytime soon before she met him, he had definitely captured her interested. His intensity was intriguing to her. "It interests me very much." Truthfully she was only half listening, his closeness distracting her.

He smiled. It was both cute and impressive the way she held his gaze.  He got closer to her arm’s length then a bit closer. “Too bad, but as long as it’s hosted and I got an invitation I don’t think I would care too much, you could always find a way to make it up to me.”  He moved close, demanding what was left of her attention.  Despite being surrounded by outfits, that made him smile too.  He dared to move a hand to her cheek, touch light, but firm. He wondered idly if her challenge of his gaze would falter at the open intimacy. She had earned a bit of his attention in return especially if she was serious about the masquerade. “Do you care for me Serra, the way you’re blushing I think you might, or might wish to. Does it excite you to be the one to make such a choice? A young woman’s heart is a precious, yet fickle gift, are you sure you wish to entangle it with a cruel old thing like me? I can promise you a whirlwind romance, it will not be easy, but you won’t be bored.  Pressed to the edges of comfort and strength.  You can only truly be pampered after you feel too tired to take care of yourself. Does this interest you?”

She stayed until she saw the expression of horror on Charity's face. That made it oh so worth it. With satisfaction she thought that the blonde got what she deserved. Her high didn't last long as Charity followed her into the hallway, a crowd forming due to their argument. People couldn't help but be nosey. "You are trying to take what's mine! You're the used goods." She scoffed, shaking her head. "I am not desperate! He likes me! Not you!" The retourt came automatically, fully believing her own words. Never having been in a physical fight before she hadn't expected Charity to punch her, much less in the face. A scream of pain left her lips as her eyes started to well up with tears. "Salazar! What is wrong with you? You're crazy! You ruined my face!" Serra started to panic, barely seeing where she was walking due to the tears, trying to make her way to the hospital wing when she ran into a chest, the smell familiar. Malcolm. What was he doing here? He couldn't see her like this! Her voice whiny and barely comprehensible to due to the crying. "Don't look at me!"

She was very much used to being called names, insults didn't hit that hard these days for she'd learned that biting back was immensely more fun. Serra was the kind of person who believed herself to be above others, as though they were better just for the sake of it, and the witch had called her ugly many times, so when the new insults flowed from her lips, it did Charity no harm. It wasn't so until she looked up and saw her hair in the mirror, the last straw as she'd take no more mistreating on her part, not when she held the upper hand this time. The witch followed the other into the hallway, her voice loud for everyone to hear. "Wow, cheap, easy, desperate. Darling, are you sure you're not referring to yourself? Easy to get flustered, cheap enough to want used goods and desperate to go back to someone who's clearly not into you." She took a step further, grabbing Serra by the arm and forcing her to turn around and face her. "You're thinking he went for the ugly one, right? Let me help you then, become the ugly one instead." She mused, a smile flashing on her lips right in time as her fist came in touch with her nose, a nice strong blow.

I dont ever have to make sense cause im cute

Serra had known that her cousin getting married was going to be a big event, what she hadn't expected was to be arriving engaged to Malcolm Parkinson. The last month had gone by in a whirlwind and she had done well to keep distance, after what Evan had told her she had been upset. Malcolm was seeing Charity again-still? She wasn't sure, but either way she hated it. However, she did not want him to know she cared so much. It would give him the upper hand. Right now he didn't know that she knew, but that would soon change. Would he lie to her? Pretend it wasn't true? Or would he own up to it? It took her a moment to think, too caught him in her revenge fantasies against a certain blonde. "More." They weren't poor after all, they could afford a big wedding. It was a status symbol. Plus more guests meant more presents. "I know. I always do." She touched the necklace for a moment. It had been on her pile of birthday presents, once she had opened the box she knew she had to wear it, it was as if she was drawn to it more than normal. Serra wasn't sure if he was the one that got her the necklace, but due to his compliment she assumed. He did know her taste pretty well by now and unfortunately she knew his too. "We should discuss the guest list. I want the final say about it. I'm not letting your mistress get anywhere near the place."

where: agatha and emir's wedding; reception who: @serraborgin

Though they agreed on being engaged, their correspondence was mostly about the wedding planning as it was now a rush. Still, he did his best not to look behind him, but someone could've counted at least two dozen times throughout the night. She looked good even in the bridesmaid color that Agatha had chosen. Malcolm knew which colors looked best on her and this was not even in the top five. One of his favorite colors on her was the warm blush that met her cheeks when he used to give her the finest compliments. Malcolm saw her alone near the bar and took the opportunity to plunge forward. "Should we have more or less people at our ceremony?" Malcolm smiled as he stepped over. "Hi. You look great tonight. I love the necklace." It wasn't one of his, but it still fell over her neck, her collarbones in the best way.