"I think so too. If anyone deserves a party in their honor, it's me. I am practically perfect." A statement like that couldn't be said with humility and she didn't even bother to feign it. Serra was sure of herself and her qualities, insecurity was an unfamiliar concept. "Depends on if I like how it looks." She shrugged her shoulders softly, her eyes focusing on the present once more. "Do continue talking, I love multiple presents.
His gaze flickering down to their arms as she took hold of his, Evan offered the younger witch a reassuring smile before starting towards one of the balconies. "I think it wise to take any opportunity to be celebrated as you're very much deserving." The wizard's compliment sneaked through his lips with ease, green eyes gleaming with mischief as they met hers. "Not just yet, but I could definitely get my flirt on, long as I get to see you wearing my gift some time soon?" He wondered, coming to a halt as they were out of the main hall, his grin growing wider at her words. "It should, and I could most certainly make it entirely about you. Now that I'm thinking more into it, perhaps there's another gift I could give you."
"That's good. I'm glad to hear it." Being a good host was important, even if technically her parents were hosting this birthday party and she was the guest of honor she felt like hostess duties did apply to her. "I speak French fluently so I had no issues there." She exclaimed quite proudly. "I was shadowing a french designer, learning her craft. It was quite educational." Fashion had always interested her. "I suggest getting them started on lessons early, it is much easier to learn a language as a child."
"I'm sure she is," Rabastan replied without hesitation, knowing that Alecto would simply make her own fun if she were bored. At her latter assessment, he laughed, quiet yet clipped. "Some of us are better made for the limelight, it seems. Do tell me about Paris. What were you doing there and have you learned any French? I will take my children when they're older. It's important they know their roots."
"I've talked to her earlier so she's around for sure. Perhaps she met someone and is showing him around the place." She teased with a smirk playing on her lips. "Sounds like a plan."
"Obviously! I haven't seen her yet, but she's got to be around somewhere." In a crowd this big losing people felt easy. She bet Serra would be able to find Willa. "We can find Wils, and then stop by your closet for a new dress?"
"Well my parents insisted and who am I to say no to celebrating me?" She smiled, happy with all the attention she's been getting. In her mind, every day should be just like this. Her being the center of attention and being showered with gifts. "Are you flirting with me Mr. Rosier?" She raised an eyebrow in challenge, taking his offered arm. Patience had never been her strong suit. "Not at the moment. It's my birthday, tonight is about me."
A nod of his head, he agreed with her statement, raising his glass of brandy to prove the point before taking a large sip and savouring the drink in his mouth. "It is a wonderful party, fitting to the star of the show." Evan conceded as a smart grin settled on his lips, letting his eyes take in the witch before him. "I'd say it's best you open it later and when alone, I might have been bold with my gift to you." The wizard allowed with a suggestive look, offering his arm for her to take so they could have a chat without being bothered by those trying to congratulate her. "No wizard by your side tonight, love?"
While they were still surrounded by people she did her best to stay quiet and calm, smiling when people clapped in congratulations. Stealing one last look at her parents she noticed them both beaming with pride. She couldn't remember them ever looking this happy. They were both more on the reserved side, but clearly they were happy about this. Would they have done the same thing if they had a son instead of her? One capable or even willing to take over the shop? She let out a huff of frustration. This whole party had not been to celebrate her it seemed, but a ruse to gather as many of their peers as possible and announce an engagement she herself was clueless about. Clearly she was the only one surprised. Engaged. Merlin, what a birthday present. She was engaged. Engaged to the one guy she had fallen for, the one that broke her heart all those years ago. It was a cruel idea of a joke. Although, Malcolm's eyes didn't mirror the shock and surprise hers held- even if only for a second. Without the prying eyes of others she had no reason to school her features into a mask of indifference. It took her a few moments to process, for things to settle in. For his words to register. "You knew about this?" He knew and yet he didn't deem it important enough to inform her? "Were you expecting me to just go along with this?" Her eyes were blazing with anger, when she got stuck on his last word. "Again? What do you mean again?"
Much to his expectations, Malcolm didn't have time to reach Serra or her parents once he got through the party. There were so many people and he caught her eye a few times, but it seemed she was putting as much effort into avoiding him as he was trying to find her. But all he got were stolen conversations with people he didn't want to be stuck talking to; they were all boring small talk, some shop talk, and Malcolm couldn't think about anything else other than talking to Serra. It was one of the few times he panicked and could feel every stroke of a clock in tandem with his heart. Like everyone else, he gathered along with the crowd when someone was about to give a toast. And like everyone else, his eyes followed Serra's parents to the makeshift stage. Fuck, his mind seemed to say like a broken record. He officially ran out of time, but he could catch them after the toast. Malcolm clapped with everyone else, holding his champagne flute and his arm went slack when he heard his name. His heart instantly took a cold plunge to his stomach. In that moment, the walls felt like they were caving around him. Malcolm shrugged off the congratulations around him and the eyes that swiveled towards him. This was the worst way to find out and he needed to talk to Serra. "Serra-" he said, breaking through the crowd to reach her once she started to make an exit. There had been a speech planned in his head and it would've gone so much better than now. "Serra-" he called again once he was closer, not even realizing they were outside as he reached for her arm. Malcolm's face softened when he turned to face him. For once in his life, he wished that Serra could look at him like he didn't betray her trust every single time. A million things were hanging from his lips, but nothing came out. Malcolm's shoulders relaxed away from his ears and he sighed out. "It's true, I found out a few days ago. Listen, I tried, okay-I contacted lawyers…i-it cannot be annulled. Again."
"Well I am not going to say no to that. We need to take Willa with us as well." She scanned the crowd for her friend, making a mental note to tell her too. "I'm partial to dancing but I'll need to change before that, this dress is more of a show stopper not made for dancing."
“Something with less of our old stuffy relatives around,” Lydia joked after making sure none of said relatives could hear her. “I bet we could sneak out and go dancing if you’d like. Or roller skating! I’ve been learning and it’s wicked fun.”
"I do hope your wife is enjoying it as well." While she had messed with witches older than her before, but only those who she deemed inferior to her, someone of equal or higher standing she left alone. Serra was no fool and knew when she went against someone that had the potential to best her. "Oh actually I do love hosting events. Especially when they are in my honor." She thrived off of attention. "But I do plan on going to celebrate with my friends later. Away from the parents." She chuckled. "Paris was lovely. It is a gorgeous city."
"I'm very pleased to be here," he replied with equal good manners. Thirty minutes ago, that statement would have been a lie. But he had now settled into his night of absent relaxation, and was indeed enjoying doing nothing practical. It made a welcome change. "Your parents are family friends. Of course, we were happy to accept their invitation." Studying her for a beat, he smiled slyly. "However, between us, hostess circulating can become rather mind-numbing, can't it? I hope you have something more privately enjoyable planned, as well. How was your time in Paris?"
"Well she doesn't look like one." Serra sneered, looking down at the ferret. "Normal would be a cat. Or an owl."
“Of course she’s a pet.” He said, offended. Better a ferret than a frog, for fucks sake. What could a frog even do? Ferrets could do loads. “How am I the odd one here? I’m being very normal.”
"Obviously. I am not meant to be poor. I am too pretty." She would not want to miss any of the luxuries she grew up with, her quality of life was excellent, never having to work or lift a finger to do anything she didn't want to do. The prospect of struggling disgusted her. "My parents love me. They want to spoil me, I do not see a problem with that."
𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫, his eyes rolled as he head shook. “ and that’s the end of the world for you, is it ? ” he teased, though he knew a lot of children of pureblood families thrived in their riches, caellum however, though not one to want to lose his fathers money, still had his own to keep him afloat.
status: for @themalcolmparkinson
location: borgin manor, serra's birthday bash
Birthday party in full swing she went through the room, making rounds conversing with friends and acquaintances the like, politeness instilled into her when it came to hostess duties. It was something that came easily to her, she didn't mind being the center of attention. When her parents both came up onto the stage set up in the ballroom she hadn't thought anything of it at first, assuming they'd make some kind of big announcement about her birthday and compliment her, list her accomplishments perhaps.. That was how the speech had started but things quickly took a turn. 'We are extremely pleased to take this time to announce the engagement of our daughter Serra Borgin to the one and only Malcolm Parkinson!' Everyone's eyes turned towards her and while there was a polite smile seemingly frozen onto her face, she knew better than to openly show her shock and surprise. What the hell were her parents thinking?! Why hadn't they said anything to her. Wanting to go outside to get some air she quickly turned around, wanting to make her way outside, but stopping when she felt a hand on her forearm. Turning around in a swirl of pink she met Malcolm's eyes. He didn't look surprised. Why didn't he look surprised. She had explicitly disinvited him and yet, here he was. "Malcolm?" His name on her lips betrayed her surprise at his presence, but with all eyes on them she knew she had to be careful with her words.
"Mr. Lestrange. It is an honor to have you here tonight." Her parents had instilled good manners into her at an early age, especially to those pureblood families they deemed worth it. The Lestrange family was an honorable one, an influential one. "Thank you, that is very kind of you." And true, obviously. She knew how good she looked. It was a fact. "Oh, that is quite lovely. Thank you." It would suit the powder blue dress she had gotten last week. "I am, very much so. What about you?"
Rabastan was indifferent to Serra. He barely knew the girl, and did not especially care to rectify that social distance. Still, he was here at her parents' invitation, so it was only polite to wish her a 'happy birthday'.
"Miss Borgin," he greeted, taking a moment to note her appearance. That dress certainly stood out. No doubt it had been her aim. He smiled, offering her a glass of champagne. "Happy birthday. You look very lovely. Alecto and I brought you a gift. We left it with your parents when we arrived." It was a small thing; an antique carryall, solid gold and decorated with pearls, containing a mirror, powder, comb, lipstick, etc. "Are you enjoying your evening?"
"Good." She was pleased, happy that there was one of the few people she actually liked present. "Why? What else have you got in mind?"
"I wouldn't have missed it, silly." Lydia said with a smile. This party was huge, maybe more than even Lydia would've preferred, but everyone did seem to be having a good time. "This isn't the only thing you're doing for your birthday, is it?"
Serra tilted her head sideways pursing her lips, thinking, treating it as an actual question instead of a rhetorical as she immediately spotted the present in his hands. "I could think of a few things. Ideally something sparkly.." Her eyes were drifting to the present, curious and impatient. "Well, as you know, I like being the center of attention every day, but I do suppose being celebrated like this is the best way." She was wearing a purposefully bold and excessive dress, further ensuring all eyes on her. "How have you been?" She heard rumors about him and Leta, but she was curious.
Who:@serraborgin Where: Serra's birthday bash When: Serra's birthday "What do you get for the woman who has everything and just returned from an extended shopping trip to Paris." Antonin knew what he had gotten her of course, but it was more fun if she recognized that he had labored over the gift so that she could ascribe the proper level of reservation to it. He had found long ago that gifts in small packages despite their actual size held a bit of underrated mystery. People assumed elegance and class something small must be doubly expensive than something large. He held the neatly wrapped present just far enough out of reach as to subtly demand Serra's attention. "It's been a while, good to know you haven't lost a step, birthdays are the perfect reason to be the center of attention aren't they?"
Serra was at ease at any party she set foot in and the fact that this was a huge event in her honor, she was thriving. She could spend every day being showered with gifts and attention, it was quite lovely. "Well if you insist, I am sure the other drinks will also be excellent." Her parents would settle for nothing but the best, spare no expense in making sure the party was as perfect as it could be. If only she knew why. "I am having a wonderful time, what about you?" Serra was practically glowing with excitement at the prospect of all the gifts she was getting to open. Her birthday was her favorite day of the year. Impatient she smiled up at him. "Can I open it now?"
There was nothing he enjoyed more than events of the like, people spending way too much money on whatever excuse they could come up with, resulting in the perfect environment to hang out with a respectable crowd, get business done and never once miss on the fun. This occasion involved a pretty witch and Evan was indeed a gentleman, making his way towards the birthday girl, a nonchalant grin plastered on his lips. "I'm more inclined to try the brandy, darling. I trust you're having a good time?" The wizard wondered, taking her hand to place a kiss on top of it. "Happy birthday, love, brought you a gift." He offered with a wink of his eye.
Serra's dress for her birthday party, featuring an unnecessarily long train
"Next time you have to come with me. We can stay at my house, go shopping together, eat french pastries..." It would be a fun thing to do, to show Willa around the town she had enjoyed so much.
"I don't know. Maybe? My parents certainly think it is time. They wanted to invite him to my birthday party, can you believe that?" She scoffed, shaking her head. He had broken her heart, all those years ago. "He did look quite handsome. And I do enjoy the presents..but he embarrassed me terribly back at Hogwarts."
Willa sighed, a slight hint of jealousy as Serra described her experiences in Paris. It was notable to many that while Willa had free reign to avail of the Bulstrode last name, their funds weren't quite as easily accessed. Despite how much Willa would have longed to visit her friend in Paris, it wasn't quite in sight.
At Serra's depiction of her run in with Malcolm, she took a sip of her tea, eyebrows raised ever so slightly. "Are you thinking of forgiving him?" Willa asked, slightly intrigued for Serra's response. "If I were you, I would wait to see him on his knees."
"You cannot consider that a pet." She grimaced, her tone full of disgust. Some people had absolutely no manners, wandering through town with a ferrett no less. It was no wonder he was still unattached. "You're very odd. You know that?"
"Stop calling her a thing and maybe I will." Clyde didn't lift a single finger to stop Bonnie sniffing around Serra's feet. Several people would agree with Sera's opinion, and all those people were simply horrible. If the girl didn't like Bonnie then she would simply have to get over it.
"Thank you. London certainly has seen better days now that I have returned." While the Nott name was one familiar to her, she did not spend much time with the other witch so Serra concluded her to hold no significant importance to herself. "Clearly you were the wrong person to talk to. My apologies."
Pandora was grabbing a few items needed for the shop that when she heard a voice talking, she turned to make sure it was her being talked to. "Welcome back?" She knew of Serra Borgin, younger than her, but not by too much. The witch had also heard about what happened with Alara Selwyn, but chose to stay out of it. It was not her business. "I don't know how you want me to answer that."
"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
status: open for everyone location: Borgin Manor, Serra's birthday bash
While she had always loved being the center of attention and considered herself a natural in it, tonight was special. It was her 21st birthday, a date of great significance. There were tons of guest in attendance, more than she remembered inviting but her parents insisted on making it a huge event. She was making her rounds, her tone polite. "Welcome, thank you for coming."
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."
When she looked at him a part of her missed him, they hadn't properly spoken to each other in years. When she saw him at an event she tried avoiding him as much as she could. Perhaps it was a cowardice move, but she did not want him to know that what she felt towards him wasn't indifference. After so many years, that is what it should be, she knew that, but he wouldn't let her forget him with the continuous gifts. At least that is what she blamed it on. Although his transgression happened many years ago. It wasn't just her ego that had been hurt it had been her heart too. That had been something she never fully got over. Why was he saying all of these things, openly admitting to wanting to see her again? Telling her it was good she was back.. it had been much easier when they hadn't talked and all their communication was the notes he sometimes left alongside his gifts. ""Thanks. "She sighed, rolling her eyes. Hopefully that was it for accidental run ins, but London was quite small she supposed. "You would."
There was once a time he knew everything about Serra. Not only what she liked or didn't, but she wanted in life, and for a few brief and good moments, he was one of those things. Maybe through the act of sending her so many gifts, she would want him again. So far, it hadn't worked in his favor, but he had no mind to buy more. Perhaps eventually, she would have an entire collection of his gifts, enough to fit into a closet. And Malcolm? He would ask for nothing in return. Malcolm's face twisted uneasily, not thinking her words would have much effect on him, but now he was taking it personally to his core. "Emerald," he echoed, the request tasting easy in his mouth. "I can do that. And if I don't see you until then...welcome back to London. I am glad you are back. And I wouldn't mind accidentally running into you again."
A little slow on the uptake, Serra needed some time to process what was actually going on, stuck in the deluded fantasy that this couldn't possibly be happening right now. It couldn't be some bad joke as no one had that terrible of a sense of humor, but that left one option: Malcolm actually cheating on her. Why he would ever do that made no sense to her, she knew he liked her, showing her off proudly and showering her with attention. "It's complicated? It's complicated?!" Her voice grew louder, anger and frustration obvious. He didn't deny it. He called Charity crazy, yes, but he didn't call her a liar. That distinction was important to her. Her world turned upside down again, stuck in a nightmare version of the present. Her boyfriend cheated on her and then submitted her to public humiliation. "You were gonna tell me? When? After you slept with me too?" Tears built up in her eyes again. This was truly the worst day of her whole fifteen years of life. "We're done. I'm breaking up with you." Turning to Charity she didn't bother hiding the hatred in her eyes rolling her eyes when she talked about them deserving each other. She deserved better than this and she wasn't going to let him keep playing her for a fool. "Yeah I don't want him anymore. Have fun with my leftovers. I know that's why you wanted him in the first place. Can't be like me so you try taking what's mine. Well you got him. Congratulations."
Malcolm was drowning in a self-made hell. He focused on Serra, her nose clearly destroyed, while desperately trying to extricate himself from the chaos he'd ignited. Charity, a ghost from his disastrous final year, stood opposite. The engagement contract, a desperate, callus-forming grasp at a solution, had trapped him. He needed Serra to leave him, to buy time to dismantle that contract—time and resources he didn't have within these cursed castle walls. His solution, a twisted logic, had been to engineer a breakup, something more dramatic than a simple "it's over." He'd known Serra wouldn't accept the truth. So, he'd manipulated, leading him to a hidden alcove with Charity. He hadn't intended to sleep with her, that intimacy reserved for Serra. But things spiraled, and now, here he was.
He struggled to rein in his panic, to find some semblance of sense, but a blinding pain erupted in his jaw. "You're fucking crazy,-" he said, too distracted now by his own pain that his hand clutched at that he didn't even hear her at first. Shit. Malcolm was glaring over Serra at Charity, and the raw ache in Serra's tone softened his own anger. "It's-it's complicated-I was going to tell you-"
"Somewhere where you won't be." She replied as if it was obvious, a sugary sweet smile playing on her lips. "You don't need another address. You can address it to my parents house and the houseleves will get it to me." She did still live there after all, but if he came by and her parents got wind of it they would get the wrong idea. He already ordered the present after all, it would be a shame for a perfectly good pair of shoes to go to waste. And she did like the dress, there was no harm in accepting the presents, it didn't change anything. "I am having a party. Invites have already been sent out. I just don't want you there, so if my parents happened to have sent you one, ignore it. If you want to send me a gift, I need new earrings. Emerald."
Malcolm knew he was playing with fire. Serra was absolutely right. She should turn down his advances as he had thought to buy back her forgiveness rather than have a painful and honest conversation. That didn't seem like him and he needed to ask Agatha about that. Yet, her words, though expected, dug into him and left a mark. "And where will you be? I should need a new address if I am to send you Italian shoes to go with the dress from the other month," Malcolm grinned. "Well, it is a special birthday so I should hope you are having a party in some capacity. Please, if I don't get an invite at least tell me what gift I can send in my absence."
She hid her face in his chest, embarrassment taking over. How could he find her attractive once he saw her like this? This was a disaster! Her life was supposed to be perfect and this was an absolute mess. "She's crazy stalker obsessed with you! She said you two hooked up...but you wouldn't cheat on me..." Serra was still half crying and hiding her face between her hands so he couldn't see the bloody nose, trying to rack her mind for a spell to get rid off blood but she'd never had to use that before so she came up empty. "Wait it's like you're crazy stalker obsessed with me! Did you do this to get back at me?" Serra let out a yelp of pain when Charity threw her on the floor. Gasping in shock when Charity hit Malcolm, not his face! It was his best feature! They had that in common, that was why they photographed so well together. The more time passed the less like a lie it seemed. Could it be true? Could he actually have cheated on her? With Charity of all people? She stood up, her head a little dizzy from the quick motion and she caught her stumble. "Shut up charity case!" Turning back to Malcolm, once again hiding the lower half of her face so he wouldn't look at her bloody nose, she continued. "Just tell me this is all a bad joke. That this-" she pointed between him and Charity. -didn't happen."
Malcolm was walking back from class with friends when a commotion erupted down the corridor. A surge of students rushed forward, forming a tight circle. He overheard someone shout, "Girls fighting!" and quickened his pace. This wasn't a common occurrence, and he wasn't about to miss it.
The sight of Charity and Serra locked in a fight was the last thing Malcolm expected. He shoved through the crowd, muttering curses as they shouldered against him. This moment was torn from a nightmare. He'd justified his cheating, but never imagined this—a public confrontation. He'd planned to tell Serra on his own terms, when he was ready. That moment, that control, had been stolen from him. Then Serra was in his arms, and instinct took over. His eyes scanned her face, searching for injury. He spotted the smear of blood and his gaze snapped to Charity, a cold tension settling in. "What the fuck is happening?" he demanded, pulling Serra close. A sliver of denial flickered; maybe this wasn't about him at all. Now he didn't feel as excited about girls fighting when they were his girls-no, just Serra. Malcolm's chin raised to glare at the other onlookers. "Well, get fucking lost-nothing to see-"
"Wonderfully. With lots of champagne." She sighed wistfully, already missing the beautiful city she got to call home for a few short months. It had more charm and elegance than London did. It felt more refined.
"I ran into him on the street as I was going to visit my father at the shop. He said something about me looking much better here than I would in Paris, so I said I would look good everywhere. Because that is a fact." The last bit was said as an afterthought. "He's been begging for forgiveness for years. With all the jewellery and dresses he's been buying me. I have yet to see him on his knees though."
"How did Paris treat you? Too many hours spent at the Avenue des Champs-Elysées" Willa asked intrigued, quietly thanking the waitress as two teapots were sat in front of the pair. Serra understood Willa's love for the finer things in life, and while most would expect their attitudes to clash, in fact it made quite the harmonious balance.
Pouring tea for herself and Serra, Willa's eyebrow quirked in response the the mention of Malcolm Parkinson. Back at Hogwarts, Willa recalled first talking to Serra after the commotion between Serra and Malcolm, and of course, Charity Burbage. She was slightly older, but that didn't stop word from spreading. "What happened?" Setting the teapot back down, she looked back at her friend. "I sure hope that he begged for forgiveness."