Status: For @fcrox (Leta) Location: Madame Malkins

location: malfoy wedding status: for @alaraselwyn

"I guess congratulations are in order. For you that is. I'll be sure to personally give Evan my condolences for being stuck with you." Her smile was saccharine as she looked over at her cousin, her eyes blatently trying to figure out how many carats the engagement ring on Alara's finger had.

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-"

"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?”

"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'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?"

"I think it's a requirement for every Slytherin to like green, but I do prefer certain shades more than others. I like a sage or an emerald green best." She explained while looking through the various racks of clothes, only needing a few seconds to decide if she liked something or not. "There's a few robes here that would look nice for the upcoming fall season." She took out four she liked, different cuts but all elegant, one shorter length and one ankle length for colder days and two more every day robes. "I do. Well my favorite holiday is my birthday, of course. I enjoy being celebrated. After that Christmas because I like getting presents and as an only child I didn't have to share with anyone. What about you?"

"Green, I will remember that, but yes you could pull anything off I'm sure, perhaps I'll know better by the end of it." He looked around at the various robes and outfits. "Does anything catch your eye?" Small accents made sense, understated but eye catching. He filed it away for future use. Even when skulking about something eye catching could make it hard for people to think of details later besides what had been put in front of them. He doubted it was how Sera might use the information, but something learned from her none the less. "Do you enjoy the holidays? Which is your favorite?"

status: open for everyone location: anywhere

"I assure you, I am not back in London by my own free will." Serra pouted, clearly annoyed that she couldn't have stayed in Paris. She'd liked it there, even going so far as attending that fashion design course recommended to her by Leta. Her parents had wanted her to return to England in January after the whole embarrassment that was Alara running away and being blown off the family tree. The compromise that had been reached meant that as soon as her course was completed she'd return. They were adamant about being back before her birthday, while she had no idea why that was so important. "It is all Alara's fault. Obviously. Couldn't help but turn out a traitor."

"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?”

"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?”

"With the colors you just said about any color I wear should match. Adding little accents of whatever I plan on wearing should do the trick. A tie, cufflinks, a pocket square. Little details that aren't garish but attract the eye and make sure the look is cohesive." Him not having the most colorful wardrobe didn't surprise her much, he didn't seem like the flamboyant type. Short answer? My favorite color is green. I like all shades of green, but I also like soft pinks. I look good in basically every color so I do occasionally like a deeper red, for the holiday season."

"Something complementary, if we're going to wear outfits that match. I usually wear black, grey, dark greens. Things that go beneath notice, unless I have a specific purpose, but I don't know if I would say that any of those are my favorite." He looked her over as he contemplated something as simple as a favorite color. Something easy but with little purpose besides blending. He hadn't thought about it in some time delegating his outfits to others, rather than picking things that attracted his attention on a whim. "Something about you is so bright, what about you, which color is your favorite?"