"Yes I Am Sure. Stop Trying To Get Into My Head And Project Your Insecurities Onto Me. Just Because That

"Pleasure to meet you as well." She smiled, her voice honest as she thought that he was handsome. Serra wasn't objective, never had been, but she didn't care for anyone else's taste but her own. "I am. Thank you for asking." It was one of the better weddings she's been to. "I'd love to." Dancing was one of the things she enjoyed most, having had lessons since she learned to walk.

Without hesitation, his fingers curled around her hand, lifting it to his lips, kissing the back of it. "Pleasure to meet you Serra." He gently let go of her hand, resting it in his trouser pocket. "Are you enjoying yourself tonight?" He glanced over to the dance floor. "Would you care for a dance?" Dancing was something he was good at, his mother adamant that it was a skill he acquired growing up.

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-"

"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."

"Not when the other option would be listening to you talk." Serra smiled, overly sweet. Onlookers would think they were having a grand old time, catching up with family. Meanwhile Alara was her least liked family member. "So what?"

"Do you ever shut up?" It was amazing how much Serra frustrated her and she didn't understand where this competition was coming from. That is what it felt like. She wanted her cousin to be happy, but constantly dragging her down made it hard to even convey any of it. "I don't think I remember asking who you came with." She stated, feeling bad for the wizard in question.

attending the wedding (and matching) with @xantoninxdolohovx

"Oh I don't work here." Serra looked over at Barty, almost offended that he has mistaken her for someone that works. What about her outfit gave working class? She looked down at herself, deciding that it must be the shoes and she should get rid of them as soon as she got home. "You'd have much better luck at Borgin's & Burke's, where again I don't work, but my name is on the door so it's automatically superior."

𝐖𝐇𝐎: open to all. 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: the junk shop.

the store was dimly lit and cramped, with shelves overflowing with oddments and dust. barty steps inside, his gaze sharp as he navigates through the clutter, nose upturned, he really would prefer not to be here.

barty’s footsteps are soft on the dust-covered floor as he moves past ancient artifacts and peculiar gadgets. he pauses and glances around, eyes landing on a figure in one of the labyrinthine aisles, finally a shopkeeper to assist. “i’m looking for something… particular. something a bit out of the ordinary. ideas?”

"Agreed. I've missed you too." While she was a few years younger than Willa, the other never made her feel listened to, both of them understanding that their value was far superior to other girls at Hogwarts so they bonded quickly.

"Oh absolutely. London would certainly be a bore without you." She was glad to have her friend around as she desperately needed someone to talk to about recent developments. "Malcolm came to see me." It wasn't exactly an answer to the question asked, but in a round about way, it was. "Said he wanted to come by the manor and talk to me."

"It's been far too long, I've missed you." Willa gushed. The woman had no problem leaving her station a little early for her lunch break, with a few other welcome witches on shift, Willa was sure that nobody would even notice her being gone. It was hardly like she was an attentive worker.

Besides, when she heard that Serra was back in London, Willa knew that exceptions could be made. "It would've been a dream to visit you in Paris, but London seemed intent on keeping me around. Things would have gotten dreadfully boring with the two of us gone. How are you?"

"There are pretty ones and ugly ones. The person getting my letter sees the owl. Correct?" She paused for effect, not to let him answer, before she quickly continued. "Correct. So the owl is really the first impression someone gets of your letters."

“It’s an owl.” Clyde said, a bit confused as to what the difference between a common and non common owl would even be. “What’s it matter? It’s held dead animals in its talons why would mail make a difference?”

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."

The Great Gatsby (2013) dir. Baz Luhrmann | Promising Young Woman (2020) dir. Emerald Fennell