What Are You Majoring In?

"I think that is a splendid idea." She mused with a smile playing on her glossed lips. He was a handsome wizard after all and she knew she only deserved the best of the best, Serra knew her worth and she knew she deserved to be courted properly. "Serra Borgin. Pleasure to make your acquaintance." She lightly lifted her hand, seeing if he'd kiss her hand like a proper gentleman.

Azure hues glance over the brunette, taking in her attire, languidly and purposefully, admiring her beauty. He could definitely have some fun with her, another night, tonight he had one in mind. "We must make sure you have one in hand at all times." A pause. "I don't think we've met before. Thorfinn Rowle." Something about her seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it at the moment.

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 suppose that's right. I think it is important to be a perfectionist about yourself first and foremost. Appearances matter. How is someone supposed to take you seriously if your hair isn't styled or your outfit is all wrinkled? If you cannot even be trusted to take care of yourself, how are you supposed to handle anything else?" If there was one thing she could do, it was talk about herself. She liked the way he complimented her, it felt thought out. She could hear how gorgeous she was a thousand times over, but this was nice too.

"I am already polished, but I suppose I could make myself available if you make it worth my while." She had a busy life of doing nothing after all. His gaze mesmerised her, biting her lip at the intensity she found in it.

"You are very good with your words, you know?"

“Any subject can be interesting if executed well or in an interesting way, it’s one reason you are so attention grabbing.  People can say what they will, but they could never accuse you of being anything less than a perfectionist especially when it comes to yourself.”  He kept his eyes glued to her as they turned about, sparing no more than an odd glance to keep them centered, it wouldn’t do to trip or drop her. “You may watch me, consider it an open invitation, but I would love to teach you, see that perfect attention put to something. Magic is like dancing, talking, just gestures and phrases polished to perfection.  You are a woman worth knowing and I would like to polish you, give you a skill to set you further apart from this rabble. How much more beautiful a flower is for its thorns.”  He came to a stop suddenly, releasing her for a moment to wave off the rest of the dancers dismissively before bringing his hands up to caress her cheeks, hold her, look  almost through her, ardent gaze slightly betrayed by a quick peek at her lips before tracing down her arms, finding her hand and hip, bowing and starting the dance again. “Truly, you are finer, and most welcome, everything I have said was earned, or will be. I do not take to idle flattery. If I was not serious, I would not care how you were trained no matter how interesting.”

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."

"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?"

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?"

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-"

I dont ever have to make sense cause im cute

"Well I shall visit you here more often then." Serra decided. It is not as if she had a job that occupied her time so she knew she had plenty and keeping busy in a dress shop was much more fun than it was in her father's store. People kept asking her about certain items as if she cared or listened to her father explaining what it was when it was brought it. Her eyes lit up when she saw the fabric Leta had brought, glad that the blonde had understood her vision. "I like the sparkling one the best, but I do think it needs to be slightly darker, if it is too light it could wash me out as I am quite fair."

“Oh, hush. There is no need to announce yourself if you intend to come visit me here.” Besides that, Leta wouldn’t have demanded such a thing, especially not outside her own home. There, yes, perhaps there it would have been nice to receive a warning ahead of time. This way it had simply been a pleasant surprise, one that the blonde welcome.

With a flick of her wand the curtain between the front of the shop and the back they were now in vanished. The witch listened, nodding occasionally as she prepared some tea and moved through the rows of fabric before returning with a few different types of fabric, among them a shimmer blue, one charmed to hold constellations, one sparkling bright enough to be mistaken for stars. “What about these? If need be, I will simply create a fabric that matches what you need.” If Serra wished to walk among the stars in a dress, she would make it so. - @serraborgin