She Smiled, Pleased When He Agreed With Her Sentiment. Not That It Surprised Her, He Was A Smart Man-

@themalcolmparkinson

"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.   

"You're obviously lying." Serra's eyes blazed with anger, furious at the insinuation of what Charity's words could mean. Malcom cheating on her? Definitely not. He wouldn't do that to her. There was no way. Things were good, she was this close to letting him take her virginity. There was no reason for their relationship to be on the rocks. They didn't even get into a fight! "We didn't break up. We're together! I saw him this morning!" She stomped, like a child throwing a tantrum. How did Charity know about their spot? "He'd never go for a loser like you. Your eyes are way too far apart, you look weird." It was the first thing she could come up with short notice.

Charity turned around to face the witch when she was interrupted mid-sentence, brows raising in disinterest. “I wouldn’t lie if I could.” She was quick to say, which was true of course as she never understood the motivation to lie, the truth always flowing smoothly from her lips. “And what is it you, anyways, since you’re all broken up?” The witch wondered, a smug smile growing on her lips for she was enjoying seeing the other all rattled, especially after the years of bullying she’d endure from her part. “He moved on, right on to me. Want to hear all the details? He took me to this secret spot in the dungeons, Nearly-Headless Nick’s spot once when he was alive.” She was telling it as though it was the juiciest of gossips, lying heavy on the excited girly tone. “And if you must know, he really is a good fuck.”

"How long were you seeing her?" She didn't miss that he only said when he claimed to have stopped talking to her. How long had that been going on, she wondered. Still it did make a difference that he had stopped seeing her when he found out they were engaged, she supposed. The timeline in her head warred with what Evan had told her, unsure of who to believe. "I don't like not knowing things. Especially if they pertain to me." Her parents wanted to surprise her with a birthday party and then it turned into a surprise engagement after all, she was still upset with them for tricking her so. He had spent more time imagining and planning their future wedding it seemed. Serra didn't pull her hand away, letting it rest in his. It has been a while since she had touched him and yet the same sparks ran up her arms. "Obviously no blue. We are not Ravenclaws. Either white or pink florals."

"Of course not," he said with the same tone, thought softened around the edges of his words. There was a different spark in her eyes, one that he hadn't seen in many years, and it filled his chest with lightness, hope. "He knows nothing then. I hadn't been with her at least a week before your party-our announcement to society." At least he hoped he had the timing right, but the couple of days set preceding her party had stretched out before him in a blur. He remembered the lawyers, his dinner with Agatha, and nowhere in that could he recall meeting with Charity. He hoped she could be a problem that fixed itself without his attention pinned to it. "You did. I mean, you do deserve to know. I should've been the one to tell you, but I'm telling you now: there is nothing going on with her anymore. It felt like he was a limp rose that was finally blooming by her words, a grin appearing on his lips. These kind of moments with Serra were ones he had held onto for many years and now he was fortunate to find it here again. "Darling, I am here at this wedding with you, but I may as well be at ours because I cannot stop thinking about our planning," he said, reaching for her hand like a test. "We must do something different with the florals. And definitely not blue."

Serra noticed several things about the witch that approached her immediately. First off, she looked familiar in a way where she was sure she must have seen her at parties and social gatherings before. Second, she was very tall and gorgeous too so surely she would have something important to say. It was always easier to trust someone good looking than someone ugly, at least that's what she thought.

"Thank you." At the compliment Serra smiled while her hair looking good was a fact it was still nice to have someone else say it. "Exactly! I have just bought this exquisite lipgloss and what a shame it would be to not see the sparkles reflect off of it." Her father had not understood that when she tried explaining it earlier that morning. "Oh my father is one of the owners. You see the sign? It says Borgin's & Burke's. We're the Borgin part of that."

Walking the streets of Knockturn Alley Sinistra saw a witch standing outside Borgin and Burke's. She looked disgusted. The store itself had many great products but Sinistra only went in when she needed something in particular. She always sneezed whenever she walked in. Dust everywhere. Disheveled. Dark and dank. The witch outside must have been thinking the same thing.

As she walked closer she heard her talking about the dust. She was right. Then she heard she was supposed to take over the shop. Interesting.

"I don't blame you. Appearances are quite important and your hair is quite lovely. As is your makeup which would be unseen in the dim lighting." Sinistra pointed out. "What makes you the lucky one to come to own such a store?"

"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?”

Serra loved all kinds of parties, any excuse to put on a pretty dress and have a few drinks was her idea of a good time. The Malfoy wedding was said to be the event of the season, she pitied anyone else having to follow that wedding. Luckily for her, her cousins were both betrothed now which meant they were getting married before her and she was still free to do whatever she wanted. Serra liked the life of having no responsibilities. It was easy and convenient. Smiling as she thanked the handsome wizard she took the glass of champagne from him.

"Thank you very much. I do agree with that sentiment. Weddings are much more enjoyable with a drink in hand."

where: the garden kew, london who: @serraborgin

Thorfinn showed for appearances, and that one of his closest friends was part of the wedding party and married to the sister of the other, and he was not going to turn down free alcohol. A petite witch caugt his attention, attractive, that he found his way over to where she was standing, grabbing two glasses of champagne.

"You are without a drink. That is not allowed at a wedding. Here you go." He holds it out for her.

"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."

"She isn't?" It was said as more of a question rather than a fact, needing the reassurance of hearing him say it again, say that she was the only one that mattered. Words were important to her, especially when they came out of his mouth. She cared about what he thought about her, how he saw her, she always had. The anguish in his eyes as so obvious right now she was wavering in her disbelief for him. Was he actually being honest with her? Was it over? Had it been over? "My birthday. After my parents announcement. He thought I deserved to know." Serra still remembered how angry she had been, how upset. Now he was telling her all the right things, what she had longed to hear from him back then. They were different people now and yet, still the same. She'd never been indifferent towards him, if she had she could have thrown out his many gifts, but she had kept every single one. "Keep talking..."

"She's not special," he corrected lowly, no longer glancing in both directions before he spoke. At least it was the first honest thing he could mean completely. There was no obligations tying him to Charity and not much of a reputation that clung to her name which was probably what made her hold his attention in the first place. She was under the radar enough, but apparently not. Malcolm's head hung for a moment, then blinked back up at her. His problems only ached more as he knew that he was the reason for placing the mistrust in the first place. He had buried it under the many years they had spent apart, but now, it was heavily back in his face. He never liked dealing with his own consequences, but he never thought of Serra as a problem or a consequence. She was more defined by everything that he couldn't understand, couldn't have. "When did he even tell you this?" he asked, brow raised. " This was clearly something he would need to talk to Evan about later. "I have no intentions of making you look like a fool, my love. She's in the past already before we even had this conversation. I will handle it later, alright? But please know that you are the only person of my affection...truly. You know that."

"You think I'd let some common owl touch my mail?" She scoffed shaking her head. "I'm not poor."

"I'll give you cats as a pet," he conceded with a nod. Loads of people had cats, they just weren't for him. "But why own an owl when the post office has one?"