Serraborgin - Pretty Please

"That's good. I'm glad to hear it." Being a good host was important, even if technically her parents were hosting this birthday party and she was the guest of honor she felt like hostess duties did apply to her. "I speak French fluently so I had no issues there." She exclaimed quite proudly. "I was shadowing a french designer, learning her craft. It was quite educational." Fashion had always interested her. "I suggest getting them started on lessons early, it is much easier to learn a language as a child."

"I'm sure she is," Rabastan replied without hesitation, knowing that Alecto would simply make her own fun if she were bored. At her latter assessment, he laughed, quiet yet clipped. "Some of us are better made for the limelight, it seems. Do tell me about Paris. What were you doing there and have you learned any French? I will take my children when they're older. It's important they know their roots."

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-"

"Because bothering you is so fun." It was one of her favorite past times. after all, ever since she had been a little girl. "Is your fiancé here tonight or did he make you come alone?"

Serra was the last person Alara wished to run into. Not in the mood to deal with her cousin, or the judgement that came from her, she lets out a sigh. "Why don't you find someone else to bother." The sooner the other took off she could go off to find Evan.

"Wonderfully. With lots of champagne." She sighed wistfully, already missing the beautiful city she got to call home for a few short months. It had more charm and elegance than London did. It felt more refined.

"I ran into him on the street as I was going to visit my father at the shop. He said something about me looking much better here than I would in Paris, so I said I would look good everywhere. Because that is a fact." The last bit was said as an afterthought. "He's been begging for forgiveness for years. With all the jewellery and dresses he's been buying me. I have yet to see him on his knees though."

"How did Paris treat you? Too many hours spent at the Avenue des Champs-Elysées" Willa asked intrigued, quietly thanking the waitress as two teapots were sat in front of the pair. Serra understood Willa's love for the finer things in life, and while most would expect their attitudes to clash, in fact it made quite the harmonious balance.

Pouring tea for herself and Serra, Willa's eyebrow quirked in response the the mention of Malcolm Parkinson. Back at Hogwarts, Willa recalled first talking to Serra after the commotion between Serra and Malcolm, and of course, Charity Burbage. She was slightly older, but that didn't stop word from spreading. "What happened?" Setting the teapot back down, she looked back at her friend. "I sure hope that he begged for forgiveness."

Serra had been minding her business until she heard her boyfriends name from the other side of the bathroom, storming over in a flash of anger. Scoffing when she noticed that it was Charity Burbage. Even though she was older, Serra believed herself to be the better person, certainly the better looking one. There was no way Malcolm would even look in her direction. He was her boyfriend. And she was talking about their meet up spot. There was no way this was true. "Stop lying, Charity. This is embarrassing."

where: girl's bathroom, hogwarts - flashback who: @serraborgin & @themalcolmparkinson

Charity was in a better mood than usual, not as annoyed with people approaching her as she most generally did, so when the Hufflepuff girl joined her in the bathroom and asked about her day, she didn't exactly tell her off. The conversation flowed easily and just for this one time, the witch allowed herself to engage in this sort of girl's talk, bringing up boys and what not. Perhaps because she did have something to share, having had quite a fun night with Malcolm not long ago. "Me? I'm not going to say I'm innocent, I did meet with up with Parkinson this week." She offered with a shrug of her shoulders when the other witch asked if she'd been seeing any wizards. "He took me to a secret party hall in the dungeons and Merlin, he had to cover my mouth so my moans wouldn't get us caught." Oversharing maybe, but Charity wasn'tone to hold back her tongue in any case.

Serra sits down all poise and elegance, the diamond tennis bracelet Antonin had gotten her for her birthday teamed with necklace Malcolm had sent her for her birthday a couple of years ago. "It is truly a shame, but I do understand, Paris is lovely this time of year. You missed a lot, I came into the party single and ended it engaged. To Malcolm." Her parents had done it that way on purpose, she could not cause a scene in public after all.

"Well when you put it that way, I don't mind the company," Davina replied, gesturing to the open seat. She glanced at Serra from across the table. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday. I was in Paris," Davina lied. She hadn't attended because it was gauche to attend a party without a gift. "I hope that it was everything that you could have wanted. I would love to hear all the gossip, though, so sit and tell me everything."

I dont ever have to make sense cause im cute

@themalcolmparkinson

She smiled, pleased when he agreed with her sentiment. Not that it surprised her, he was a smart man- that made a dumb mistake in choosing to get married to Alara, but luckily he got out of it unscathed. He could have suffered for years. "That is true, I look good in everything." Some colors and cuts suited her less than others, but that didn't mean she looked bad in anything she wore. Her eyes shined with excitement at the prospect of more presents, she was easy to please in that regard. "What kind of information? Gossip? About who?" She said having to look up when he put his arms around her waist. It was her birthday, she was allowed to indulge. "You patented it and everything? Must be worth something."

A chuckle went past his lips but found himself nodding amused at her words. "Yes, yes you are." He agreed, not one to shy away from complimenting pretty witches any chance he got, and finding her spirit quite appealing as he also believed himself to be that good. "There's no way you'd look bad in it." Evan settled with a sly grin, brazen eyes wandering down her body. "Ah multiple presents, that I can do. I've got two things you might enjoy, love." The wizard told her, his hands finding her waist loosely and having her look at him. "One is information, valuable one. The other is something I call the Rosier method, that one you really don't want to miss."