"I've Talked To Her Earlier So She's Around For Sure. Perhaps She Met Someone And Is Showing Him Around

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.

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

Serra nodded her approval when he explained. "That is good. She is a woman of good taste, you are well off listening to her." There had been a moment in time she'd been jealous and disliked the blonde, but she had gotten over it. She actually quite liked her now.

"I will wear it. It's quite lovely. If it was ugly I would have no problem telling you so. I think you could handle my honest opinion." Perhaps it went against propriety, but as long as people did not listen in she was fine stretching the boundaries. "They think they know what's best. It is hard to tell them that they do not. "

“Leta made comments and observations.  I think that I have spent enough time with her to understand the basics of picking out something that won’t end up as an expensive paperweight at least.” Antonin never wore much jewelry himself.  A chain was just something that could be grabbed or used against you if a fight went on long enough or got too heated.  Fighting against Leta had told him that much too, but he didn’t need to bore Serra with that, especially not on her birthday. “Don’t worry I’m not the type to tell you to put it on, it’s yours now and you can do with it what you will.  At most if I see you wearing it some time I might be quietly delighted.”  He thought to his own parents.  “Yes parents are hard to defy at times no matter your age, at least on the important things.  They always find the way to make you want to defy them, and still regret it if you get your way, don’t they?”

#Legend

When she looked at him a part of her missed him, they hadn't properly spoken to each other in years. When she saw him at an event she tried avoiding him as much as she could. Perhaps it was a cowardice move, but she did not want him to know that what she felt towards him wasn't indifference. After so many years, that is what it should be, she knew that, but he wouldn't let her forget him with the continuous gifts. At least that is what she blamed it on. Although his transgression happened many years ago. It wasn't just her ego that had been hurt it had been her heart too. That had been something she never fully got over. Why was he saying all of these things, openly admitting to wanting to see her again? Telling her it was good she was back.. it had been much easier when they hadn't talked and all their communication was the notes he sometimes left alongside his gifts. ""Thanks. "She sighed, rolling her eyes. Hopefully that was it for accidental run ins, but London was quite small she supposed. "You would."

There was once a time he knew everything about Serra. Not only what she liked or didn't, but she wanted in life, and for a few brief and good moments, he was one of those things. Maybe through the act of sending her so many gifts, she would want him again. So far, it hadn't worked in his favor, but he had no mind to buy more. Perhaps eventually, she would have an entire collection of his gifts, enough to fit into a closet. And Malcolm? He would ask for nothing in return. Malcolm's face twisted uneasily, not thinking her words would have much effect on him, but now he was taking it personally to his core. "Emerald," he echoed, the request tasting easy in his mouth. "I can do that. And if I don't see you until then...welcome back to London. I am glad you are back. And I wouldn't mind accidentally running into you again."

"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.

This wedding was a good one to take as an example, on what to do and what not to do. For example she would not have gone for blue bridesmaids dresses, at least for a late spring wedding. Serra looked upwards, trying to ground herself and appear calm. "No, I'm not talking about Nick. I do not care about him." She forced a smile onto her face in case people were looking over at them, so at least from a distance it seemed like they were having a pleasant conversation. So he was going with deflection, making a little joke to hide what was actually going on. Not the best idea. It was clear that he didn't know that she knew what was actually going on. "I'm talking about your little charity case." Disgust came over her features for a moment before she hid it. "I know everything. So don't bother denying it." She didn't actually, but if he thought she did he'd confess quicker.

There were probably other people in the room who were also planning their wedding and taking notes, other people who were betrothed. Malcolm felt sorry for them as he had both a traditionally arranged marriage with his former betrothed and in his eyes, it was also a love match. He couldn't say the same for the others who were begrudgingly matched with boring partners. Malcolm nodded, subtly taking her words as an invitation to plan their wedding while at one already. Malcolm smiled at Serra, his eyes softening and maybe he would blame the alcohol later as Emir and Agatha must've paid handsomely for it to taste this good. "Well, I don't have as much family as you, besides Estelle, so that should be ea-" he began with a shrug then stopped. Maybe he didn't hear her right, his eyes squinting in confusion and his brow dipped in response. "My mistress? I don't...oh," he said with a humble chuckle. "You mean Nick. I know he's not everyone's favorite, but he will be in attendance of course, hopefully standing right next to me as well."

"I was just wondering if the rumors are true. It looks like they are." Serra looked Cressida up and down, shaking her head. It was a shame that she had left a family as influential as the Malfoy's to marry someone beneath her. She'd never understand something like that.

Open starter for: Cressida McLaggen Max 4 replies please (0/4)

In the new situation Cress was living in, she found out that her patience had grown rather thin as well. And maybe she had grown a little more paranoid as well. It felt like people were pointing her out more, it made her conscious of walking down the street. And she knew that perhaps it was all inside her head but it made her snap. “What can I do for you on this beautiful day?” She asked the person behind her as she quickly turned around to face them.

"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."

Serra didn't make a habit of helping out at her dad's shop, but when Raf asked her for a favor and promised it would only be a couple of minutes, she relented begrudgingly. The man had asked her all kinds of questions she didn't know and she told him she didn't work there and yet he kept talking to her, insisting that she must know when his delivery would come in. As if she ever spent a minute looking over at the books. Ridiculous. Serra sighed in relief when Raffaella came back and answered his question.

"You know it is. You should tell Jeff to clean the place up a bit. Perhaps roll his sleeves up a bit. I'd like to watch."

“Love, that makes two of us,” Raffaella chuckled as her lifelong friend and stand-in coworker pouted behind the counter. The customer she’d left Serra with was a loyal one who’d been coming there for years; she and her father knew him well, so there was no real harm done. Frankly, she’d only sent her to the front of the shop for her own amusement. “Corvus,” she called to the confused elderly man standing by the cursed silverware. “Your delivery will be in tomorrow,” she reassured him as he lowered his head and took his leave.

At the magical ding signaling the door closing, Raff turned to Serra, her mirth failing not to peek through. “Are you trying to say it’s dusty in here? In our shop?”