Derya Pinar Ak Icons

"They are." She grimaced in annoyance. What were all those people doing in here? Shouldn't they go to work or something? Surely not all of them were as well off as she was, not having to work at all. "And I would much prefer sitting at your table than at the one of the likes of some of these people."

Location: Diagon Alley, Cafe Open to all

"Hm?" Davina glanced up from the magazine she was perusing. It never got easier, looking at fashion magazines with the knowledge that she couldn't buy things the way that the other socialites could. But she certainly had gotten good at mimicking their designs so it appeared that she was just like them. After all, appearances were more important in her mind than actually affording them. At least that was what she told herself when she felt particularly low. And lately, that feeling seemed to follow her everywhere she went. But her mother kept telling her it wouldn't last forever, and she was trying to believe her.. "Oh, are all the other tables full? I suppose you can join me then. If you must."

"I am never second best." Her ego wouldn't allow it, what she lacked in ego she made up for in delusion. "I do not mind spending a few hours in your company. You shower me with attention, but alas I do need to make my rounds to please my parents. Wouldn't want anyone telling them I am antisocial. I am here to represent them and our name after all." She was an only child, her parents had struggled getting pregnant and had always wanted a son to take over the business. Now it fell onto her cousin on her dad's side as she had no plans to work. "I shall let you know, but I do believe no one would dare. Except my cousin Alara, but she is another story. I can handle her."

"Of course, the second best would not do. How would you like to spend the evening? I would not mind spending it with you, but that can wait until after the wedding, it would be a crime to monopolize your attention for too long, social butterfly that you are. Well perhaps just a few hours?" Antonin squeezed Serra's arm and took her hand. He looked at some of the gossipers noting faces in case he heard anything too damning come to surface later. "Just tell me if you need your honor defended it's been a while since I had a good duel, but blasting the proper respect into someone is often considered taboo at weddings, don't ask how I know."

"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.   

"What's that supposed to mean?" She raised an eyebrow, haughty look on her face. As always, she wasn't too thrilled when she got to see her cousin. Alara was annoying and would no doubt hold it over her head that it was Leta attending this wedding at Antonin's side. "Parisians have much better taste. I cannot wait to leave the greyness of london behind."

There was rumours from her family when it came to her cousin and she was curious if they were true. She would not be sad to see Serra leave. "And here I thought you could do better." Alara smiled sweetly at the other. "I don't think Paris is ready for you."

Serra didn't make a habit of helping out at her dad's shop, but when Raf asked her for a favor and promised it would only be a couple of minutes, she relented begrudgingly. The man had asked her all kinds of questions she didn't know and she told him she didn't work there and yet he kept talking to her, insisting that she must know when his delivery would come in. As if she ever spent a minute looking over at the books. Ridiculous. Serra sighed in relief when Raffaella came back and answered his question.

"You know it is. You should tell Jeff to clean the place up a bit. Perhaps roll his sleeves up a bit. I'd like to watch."

“Love, that makes two of us,” Raffaella chuckled as her lifelong friend and stand-in coworker pouted behind the counter. The customer she’d left Serra with was a loyal one who’d been coming there for years; she and her father knew him well, so there was no real harm done. Frankly, she’d only sent her to the front of the shop for her own amusement. “Corvus,” she called to the confused elderly man standing by the cursed silverware. “Your delivery will be in tomorrow,” she reassured him as he lowered his head and took his leave.

At the magical ding signaling the door closing, Raff turned to Serra, her mirth failing not to peek through. “Are you trying to say it’s dusty in here? In our shop?”

"That unmemorable?" She fought a smirk, keeping her voice neutral. She didn't like this - at all, but she was trying to find a way to move past this. He had made a stupid mistake and technically that was before he had known they would get married... Serra couldn't help it, a part of her had always been his, no matter how hard she had tried to erase him from her heart he had grown roots in there. Looking at him when he promised that there wouldn't be another that would turn his head she focused on his body language, the tone he was using, the little tells he had. He was being honest. "You will not like your life if you do. I am warning you now, do not make the same mistake twice." Serra would find ways to make his life hell, she had no idea how yet but she was sure that if she needed to make good on it she could come up with something if he were to break her heart again. Despite trying to act tough she did smile at his compliment, clearly enjoying to hear it. "Well obviously I'd look good in green. I look good in all colors. but I'd be wearing white, would I not?" He would look good in green too, undoubtedly. It suited his complexion and his hair color. "You could wear a dark green suit, muted, elegant."

"I don't know, not long," he answered, though fighting to remember any actual dates to prove himself right. Charity and him had their own history and history repeated itself now. Once he found out about the contracts, he was quick to sever any connection between him and Charity. He hoped she would take his silence as a hint. "Of course," he nodded. This was a good sign if anything. It was a good conversation to establish trust between them and Malcolm was adamant about proving himself. "This is going to be new. For both of us. I'm not going to stray from you again. I can't think of someone who could turn my head." And it was true, meaning every word that poured from him. "I think green would make sense. It is a color that means something to both of us. And we both would look good in it. Especially you."

She wanted the distraction from all the trouble tonight had put her through. Her birthday party had been more than she had bargained for. When her parents first told her they would organise a big birthday party for her 21st, she thought nothing off it, feeling it fair as they were demanding her to come back from Paris much earlier than she had intended. If only she had known what they were planning, but they chose to leave her in the dark purposefully- so that she could not cause a scene. While she thrived off of attention, she did not want bad attention. So after they'd announced her betrothal, to her surprise, she just needed to get away. Landing right in Evan Rosier's arms. Her eyes blazed with anger, trying to overplay the hurt she felt at this old wound ripping open again. Malcolm and Charity Burbage. Again. She couldn't do this. She wasn't going to do this. She wouldn't be played for a fool by him again. If he could hook up with whoever he wanted, so could she. Anger made one do things they probably shouldn't as was the case right here. Her eyes falling to his lips for a moment before she locked eyes with him again. "I do. Let's get out of here."

He always knew what he was doing, a birthday girl deserved to be complimented and given presents, of the best kind. Evan had plenty to give and something told him that she was eager to find out more. A nonchalant grin dancing along his lips, the wizard used his grasp on her waist to pull her closer to his body, dragging her away from the guests' curious eyes. "It's not gossip if I've seen it with my own eyes." The wizard told her, his voice low and steady, looking into her eyes as he shared what he'd seen recently. "Your ex-boyfriend leaving with a Miss Burbage, not just once, looking all too cozy." He finally stated, eyes holding her gaze to see if it did anything to her, one of his hands leaving her waist to reach the nape of her neck, stroking her cheek gently with his thumb. "It's worth plenty." The blonde reassured her, tongue wetting his bottom lip, his gaze settled on hers. "Want me to show you just how much it's worth?" He wondered, voice barely a whisper of hot breath as his hand on his waist slid down to grab a handful of her ass.

"Yes." She grimaced, her tone petulant and angry and not nearly as blasé as she wanted to be. Normally no one got to her, she believed herself to sit pretty on her throne, a pedestal from where she looked down on others and now it seemed like her whole kingdom was crumbling. "I'm not as cheap and desperate and easy as you are." The insults kept flowing easily out of her lips but that didn't make her feel any better. Wandless magic was something she was quite good at when it came to beauty spells, needing to know she could do her hair in any situation. It wasn't even planned, her emotions getting the better of her as she turned Charity's hair into a hideously short bob with uneven bangs. A laugh left her lips as she started at the other, feeling like she won she made her way into the hallway. She needed to find Malcolm so he'd tell her this was all a bad joke.

She stared in bewilderment, surprised to see the toll her boyfriend's shenanigan had taken on her. It was hilarious to see the tormentor become the tormented one, all too annoyed to feel someone she saw as lesser get a small triumph. "Plenty, huh?" She repeated the witch's words, simply to spite her, a sly grin pulling at the corners of her lips. "The way he had fun with me, though, makes me think you two didn't have any." Charity stated, turning to washing her hands, pretending not to care for this conversation at all. She did, though, more so for the pure satistfaction of getting to pull one over someone as awful as Serra. "You don't have to, what do I care if you believe it or not?" She said with a shrug of her shoulders. "All I care is that I'm most certain I'll ride him again."

"Oh I love Sleekeazy. Your father is a genius. You must tell him that I am a big fan." Were her eyes playing tricks on her or did he get cuter after graduation? He'd always been good looking, which is why she didn't understand why he would date Alara, but the scruff was working for him. "Oh you must have misunderstood. I don't want to work. Never have. Never will."

"Ah, well, if that happens, do I have a product for you! Sleekeazy's Hair potion. Two drops tames even the most bothersome barnet," he reeled off with a dazzling smile, as if it was an advertisement. Unbeknownst to many, James Potter was what some may consider a nepo baby himself. "The hair might be saved after all. You're free to work to your heart's content."

"I would not host a ball for you, I would host a ball for the pleasure of hosting one. I am an excellent hostess. My mother has trained me well." Her parents cared about a good education and making sure she would one day make a good pureblood wife, that she knew the importance of proper etiquette. Of course she preferred not do any work and simply sit back and relax, but she did enjoy party planning, dressing nice and telling people what to do. "I would look wonderful in a gown, you are correct with that assumption." She smiled, pleased at the compliment, blushing at the intensity of his stare as he went on. Guys her age were nothing like this, she didn't have much experience with older men. "It is a much more interesting topic. Truthfully, I do not care much for boys my age." She held his gaze, challenging him.

He dismissed the thought of mudbloods with a wave. “Interesting anomalies, but ultimately nothing more than something to be foisted off on squibs or the reason for them, but I don’t want to bore you with magical theories, and speculation. Are you offering to host a ball for me, Miss Borgin? If I didn’t know better I might think you are trying to snare me, not that I mind. I am sure you would look wonderful in a gown. I can see it, a splendid thing, for you paired with a simple domino mask, not that you would choose something simple, but your face hardly needs any hiding or accent, and it would be a crime to cover those lips.” He looked at her lips smiling a bit hungirly. “Yes, nothing that would impede you talking, drinking or kissing. When was the last time you had a good kiss? A much more interesting subject than dirty mudbloods don’t you think?”