The morning was crisp and cold. The main street of Diagon Alley was actually only lightly crowded at this time of morning, the cold air keeping most of the crowds indoors. And, well, the fact they'd arrived at 10am helped. As Tapendra walked with the two boys in tow, his breath showed white in the still air, and most of the wizards actually in the street parted easily enough to allow the professor and his charges to pass.

Diagon at this time of year was nice - cheerful, even. It hadn't snowed, yet, but the cool and crisp air carried its promise. He'd have to check the weather report in the the Times, if he got the chance - not that it'd help for Hogwarts. Snow was something that Tapendra had always quite liked, but as the Astronomy professor he had found it quite an issue the previous year when it blew in overnight and turned a stargazing lesson into yet another cancelled time slot.

"It's not far," he told Zel and Sasha, pulling at the collar of his cloak. The front of Libertine was always distinctive - like a bolt of modern fashion tucked in among the rather old fashioned row of buildings. Its wood paneling was dark and rich, the gold accents well-placed, the sign a splash of purple color in a sea of browns and greys. The shop stood out in a way that wasn't loud or obnoxious, but was nonetheless very eye catching.

Just like its owner, really.

He headed inside to the decorated storefront, the door bell ringing cheerfully. The door shut behind them with a final gust of wind, the cold air quickly overcome by the warmth of the shop. Shrugging, Tapendra started to shrug off his cloak.

The inside of Libertine was...it didn't say tailor's. The wallpaper, the paneling, the lighting - all of it had a feeling of sexuality that was difficult to ignore, but hard to place. It simply had an aura of slyness to it that made it seem that, whatever was on the other side of the heavy curtain that separated them from the main show floor, it probably wasn't any standard tailor's shop.

"There's a rack," he explained, hanging his cloak and hat up as he said this. "You two know what you're looking for, I hope? The prices here can be a little...steep." He glanced at the tall Hufflepuff particularly as he said that, since he suspected Sasha could have bought the shop out from under Darian.

Wizard's fashion was still a bit of a mystery to Sasha.  He was familiar with what he saw professors wearing around school but didn't know how representative it was of the wizarding world as a whole - or, if even in fashion, Hogwarts tended to cling to the traditional more than elsewhere.  During his extended stay at Kronos' a year or so ago, Sasha had been able to explore some of the more flamboyant aspects of wizarding culture - and still sometimes missed that raven feather cloak. 

Sometimes.  On very rare occasions. 

But, Sasha had been looking forward to exploring Darian Morgan's work and picking up what bits of information he could on wizarding fashion.  He'd dressed carefully - not just with dress robe shopping in mind but also because he'd be meeting up with Abby, later.  Unfortunately, outside of his school uniforms, his attire was still rather muggle.  Fashionable - in his usual, clean, conservative manner - but muggle fashionable. 

The Ravenclaw followed closely behind Professor Trishna and Zelig.  He hid his hands from the brisk, December air in the pockets of his wool blazer until the three of them had escaped into the warmth of the Morgan's shop. 

Sasha wasn't entirely sure, in general, what to expect of this Darian Morgan.  It was a name that seemed to have trickled up in scattered bits of conversation with company that ranged from his sister to Kronos.  That, in itself, was reason enough to be curious.  The man's shop did little to quell any curiosity. 

"What kind of things do people ... wizards typically wear to these type of functions?"  Sasha asked, glancing briefly towards Professor Trishna and then Zelig before moving over towards the rack of clothes.  He knew the Yule Ball was formal but he didn't have much of an idea of what formal, society functions looked like in the wizarding world.  Or, more importantly: "...are there any rules for this?  Like, who can wear what or if what you wear conveys a certain meaning or status?  Are colors significant?  Number of buttons?" 

Zel was glad that he would be able to get his own robes—he had the option to wear his late father’s, but that had too much sentimental value—plus, his father was a few inches taller than Zel was now, and the robes would have been a bit too long. Maybe eventually, Zelig would fit in them, but certainly not in time for the Yule Ball. He wanted some simple, well-fitting black dress robes—they went well with most occasions. If he ended up having a date, he could simply just get a tie that matched her dress. 

For this outing, he had dressed warmly with a wool jacket, a scarf, and dark pants.  Zel didn't dress for fashion as much as he did for comfort, as the werewolf didn't know the first thing about fashion.

“I just want something that works. Black?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “H-How steep are the prices?” He already expected things to be a bit on the pricier side for his height and build alone. “I have enough money, I think. Rhys has a high salary, but he has four children to support.” Five, when Emeline was home. As for now, she was still in holding by the ministry, but from letters he had received, she was doing well.  He looked from Professor Trishna and back to Sasha. He wasn’t exactly sure what kind of terms they were on, but he hoped they were good.

“Sasha, d-do you have a date yet? Maybe you could match your date?” Zel always liked the idea of the dates matching, but he wasn’t sure if others would view it as tacky and lame.

"Welcome to Libertine." Darian's voice cut through the boys' questions like a hot knife through butter as he swept through the curtain separating the shop proper from the antechamber. Today he wore a suit of dark slate blue, its subtle sheen augmented by the rings on his fingers and the bright silk of his cravat. He smiled at the three, nodding to Tapendra before his gaze settled on the students whom he had not yet met.

"I am Darian Morgan." Lightly he touched fingertips to the front of his blazer, then gestured through the doorway.  No bows today - unlike older patrons, students tended to find those strange.  "My assistant Misa and I will be fitting you today. If you'll follow me..."

The interior of Libertine was less sultry than the antechamber, better lit from the sunny skylights, dark wood shelving running all around the room. The showroom was long and deep, artfully-placed racks receding into the back where the fitting area resided. A small section to the side held Darian's more foppish clothing, all bright colors and lush prints, a designer's pick of velvet, leather, and lace. The boys would be more interested in the choices in the recessed wall shelves and those racks that held Darian's plainer, more affordable made-to-measure clothing.

"All manner of things," Tapendra answered, having cast his mind back to the parties he'd seen as a boy. "Usually more traditional robes, but there's a thing for...Victorian fashion, now?" It was half a question. Tapendra himself didn't really know what one wore to these, either. He had fallen back on hoping Darian wold just tell him and he could nod and smile politely.

He smiled as Darian finally appeared, the red-headed man fitting in perfectly with Libertine (as he always did). Tapendra returned the nod, adding a "Good morning," to it. Then he nodded to the boys and followed Darian into the main show floor.

Tapendra - as was usual - immediately not sure what to do with himself. He didn't dare learn on something or sit on a table, so he ended up hovered around one of the racks of frighteningly lacy shirts. The concept of lace on men's clothes was one that made him twitch a little; while such touches worked just fine on Darian, the idea of he himself having to deal with it was a bit off-putting.

Ah well. Darian seemed to know well enough not to do that, he hoped.

"The prices aren't too bad," he assured the two boys - though Sasha could probably have afforded the entire store. Zel and Tapendra would probably be the only ones with sticker shock today.

Sasha chewed his lip, awkwardly, when Zel spoke, attempting to discreetly check for a price on the closest racked garment.  Thinking about money in terms of whether he had a sufficient amount was an entirely foreign and unfamiliar concept to the Ravenclaw.  Not that he'd never worried about being able to afford something in the past.  But, the question had always come down to one of access rather than availability.  There was little he couldn't have afforded to acquire, it was just a question of convincing his parents the need was legitimate.  And, with them entirely unaware of his magical pursuits, it had been a frequent challenge. 

He couldn't have just asked his parents for money for a new racing broom, after all. 

He remained quiet, seemingly distracted by looking at the selection until Zel asked about his date .  "I ... no," he admitted.  "Not yet, at least.  Maybe, though.  I haven't-" 

Mr. Morgan stepped into the room, beckoning them into the back of the building.  Grateful for the distraction, Sasha slipped his hands back into his pockets as he followed. 

"Sasha Schlagenweit, sir," Sasha offered in greeting and introduction as they reached the showroom.  He peered around the room at the array of choices, slowly crossing the room to look shuffle through the selections on the rack.  It was obvious, immediately, that there were more options in the array of styles than in the muggle world.  And the styles ranged from what he considered traditionally masculine to so effeminate that Sasha could only imagine the level of disapproval his family would have displayed.  He eyed a particularly frilly example for a few moments with a strange, uneasy curiosity before turning back to the others. 

"Is it too late to get custom work done before the Ball?" he asked.  He could only imagine the man was likely to be rather busy in the coming weeks with so many gearing up for the Ball.  But, maybe with magic it was different.