#17

This time of year was always mad for him, a veritable attack of last-minute gifts and holiday commissions that fattened his bank account as easily as it wore thin his fingers, generously robbed him of sleep even as it quickened his mind. The Tournament only increased the usual rush with its host of foreign guests and upcoming Yule Ball. Both he and Misa were working overtime but Sunday lie-ins were still sacred. They would always be sacred. If not for long Sunday lie-ins after busy Saturday nights Darian would not still be a functioning, breathing man. But his Aunt Aisling wasn't a bad sort at all, and when he received her invitation it was no trouble to drop in.

With plenty of time between the excesses of the night before and this afternoon appointment, Darian had lounged in bed all morning with the shades drawn and finally emerged with a spring in his step. He only sprang so far as his living room; after all, it was a bitter cold day. He'd stroll in Muggle London another time. Today, he took the Floo, stepping out to the ministrations of the waiting Krix and brushing some loose soot off his fine coat. The elf took his hat and his gloves but not his clutch of zinnias. Just because the invitation to tea was last minute was no reason to get sloppy.

The first word that came to Aisling's mind upon seeing Darian was 'garish'. The combination of colors was rather disconcerting, though perhaps such was the intended effect. And while she did pay the occasional bit of attention to fashion, it was not a subject she would have considered herself to possess expertise on. At least it wasn't pink.

"Ah, there you are. Thank you for coming on such short notice, even if it does prove Tarron right. I'm sure you're dreadfully busy these days." She motioned towards one of the doorways leading out to the rest of the house. "Everything is just set up in the other room. It has a pleasant view of the garden, which I've actually had time to care for this year."

A quick glance about, and then she smiled. "And I-ah, there it is. Accio package." A small box wrapped in moss-green paper and topped with a white bow flew into her hand. "It's not your Christmas present, but with all the wrapping paper around I thought that I may as well wrap it."

His aunt was quickly upon him with an invitation to the other room. Darian leaned in to kiss her cheek, present the zinnias, ready with a dazzling smile of his own - then, quite to his surprise, she summoned a small box. Darian took it from her curiously, turning it over in his hands. He had not expected a present; perhaps he ought to have brought cake as well as flowers. Oh, well.

"Oh, I'm never too busy for family," he answered her, smoothing a thumb over the white silk of the ribbon. "This is really too kind." He looked up, still smiling, and gestured with the courtly arc of his arm: after you. "Shall we? The garden would be such a lovely backdrop to open it."

"Oh, it's just a few small things that reminded me of you. And the flowers are perfect. Krix, could you find a vase?" Aisling started off towards the other room, and passed the bouquet to Krix when the House Elf reappeared next to her. "The house could use a little brightening up, these days. It's been much too quiet."

A small table had been moved into the other room, and set near a window which looked out onto a small garden. Prominent amid the selection of herbs and flowers there was a small rosebush which displayed a few soft peach blooms. Some matching blossoms were set in a vase atop the table, along with an embroidered white tablecloth and matching dishes. The teapot, and a few plates of small cakes were waiting atop a nearby sideboard. "I'm rather surprised the garden turned out so well, in all honesty. I hadn't done any gardening since I was a girl." She motioned towards one of the chairs.

Right, the girls weren't here anymore. Darian didn't visit often enough not to expect to see them about - but of course, they were at Hogwarts now. Just darling. They were uncannily well-behaved children, product undoubtedly of their father's strict tongue. Darian hoped for their sake that they were sneaking about after curfew and gorging themselves on Honeyduke's finest, invading the kitchen, setting tapestries on fire, anything. Poor mites. He knew all about proper pureblood upbringing. It was incredibly boring.

The garden behind the glass was indeed a lovely backdrop, and the table - its settings - high-class domestic. Darian went at Aisling's urging and took a seat. "It is lovely," he agreed. The smile was a permanent fixture on his bright, pleasant face, though it faltered in place of curious intent as he turned his attention upon the unexpected gift. He tilted his head like a magpie with a bit of shiny, thumbs sliding under the paper folds and flicking them apart.

He grinned when he opened it to glossy fashion pages, stationary Muggle models staring sulkily out at him. "Thank you!" he said, laughing as he unearthed the candy underneath that, reminding him fondly of some gift from an aunt to a child. There was a pair of nice silver cufflinks and an invitation to an upcoming fashion show, a local thing of newly discovered talents. That and the magazines were Muggle through and through, the courtesy Aisling paid him when she discovered he had an interest in Muggles which the rest of his family (barring his dear, dear uncle) did not share. "This is very dear." He went to replace his cufflinks with the new ones but got stuck on one of the magazines, flipping through it briefly to murmur dreamily, "Mmm, McQueen."

Aisling smiled a bit at Darian's obvious enjoyment of the gift, then turned to pick up the teapot. His distraction was no excuse for her to let it get cold. "You're quite welcome. And do tell me if there's anything particular you're looking for." Once the tea was poured, she  lifted the tray of cakes and set a few of them on each plate before sitting down.

"I would have sent it to you earlier, but it seems that I've exhausted our owl with everything I sent to the girls. Do hope that they found someone to share some of the sweets." There was a bit of jesting lightness to her voice, though not enough to prove her words inaccurate. And she did so enjoy finding gifts. There was just something about the challenge of finding the perfect item which proved compelling.

Once everything had been served she took her seat, and allowed Darian a bit more time to look through his gifts before speaking further. "How have you been, though? It seems far too long since we've spoken." They could discuss the dress in due time.

"It's lovely. My thanks." They were very fine gifts, and the pleasant surprise kindled a glint in his eyes akin to the catch of his new cufflinks in the light as he reached for his tea. "I've been well. Business has been fantastic, what with the international traffic and the upcoming ball. Crazy, really." He laughed, cupping his hands idly around the cup. "I've even had to consider taking on new help. But you know the trials of interviewing - looking for, how shall we say, that particular combination of charm, diplomacy, and experience Libertine requires. Well-groomed smooth-talking cosmopolitan professionals do not grow on trees. More's the pity." He rubbed a finger over the cup's ceramic surface, slick as the elusive tongue of his imaginary salesman, and sighed.

Aisling was not so easily appalled as most of his family, genteel and more open-minded than his other aunts and uncles. Naturally, this made her no fun to try and shock at all. Darian leaned forward, content to keep his more scandalous stories under wraps. But what fun was working retail without the customers? If he only sold owl-order, Darian would be a full 38% more boring. "You know, I had a muggle stumble in through the Cardiff entrance the other day..." Less entertaining than it was relevant to Aisling's job. If she'd been there, she'd have certainly appreciated Darian's excuses.

The tea was at the perfect temperature for some delicate sips, intermixed with nibbling at the cakes, small fluffy things which tasted slightly of lemon. Aisling's face was the model of attentive interest as she listened, occasionally accented by a small warm smile at Darian's words. "Interviewing. Ah, yes, never the most pleasant of duties. And it seems that we look for much the same things in employees, especially if you have Muggles wandering in now."

"I am glad to hear business is doing well, though. You most certainly have earned it." Fine sprinkles of powdered sugar dusted patterns across her plate as she took another bite of cake. "But, the muggle? What did he think of your lovely establishment?"

His words had reminded her of something she couldn't quite place, and she tilted her head slightly as she endeavored to remember. Something Teagan had mentioned, but with how many topics her sister brought up, that was of little help.

"It's not usual," Darian assured her. His brow creased faintly in consternation as he mused to himself, "Must be time to renew the Muggle-repelling charms on that entrance. It was a woman, actually - said she'd only leaned against the wall to make a phone call. Oh, she was very charmed. I convinced her it was a Muggle shop with a hidden back door; she didn't get past the antechamber." It hadn't been hard to gesture the mannequins into stillness, or for Misa to black the front door's lookout into Diagon while Darian distracted. Darian liked muggles, and he liked testing his own skills - the lack of cunning needed to alleviate the woman's surprise had honestly been a little disappointing. She, like many, was too trusting of an attentive, handsome face.

At least it was a little amusing to think of her one day again attempting to find his shop, patting the wall and missing the doorknob, standing frustrated beneath the very sign - if she did not ascribe her inability to replicate the experience to her own faulty memory. No need for the Obliviators when human nature was so predictable. Darian didn't at all mind being someone's fairy dream.

"Libertine Ltd., now Muggle-approved. Appealing to a some of your more daring customers perhaps, but I don't expect to see it on your signs." Aisling accompanied her words with the particular amused smile she had picked up from decades of maneuvering around the various prejudices of wizards.

"I will admit to a bit of relief that the situation was nothing more than that, boring as it may be. Between the Muggles we had to send to St. Mungo's, and animated children's toys, I've been rather busy." Which made days like this more pleasant. Outside, the breeze sent a few rose petals fluttering to the ground.

Though she'd had worse cases. That incident with the walrus, for one, though Darian had already heard about that. The memory of that brought a slight chuckle, and she shook her head. "Though sneezes as a method of propulsion was rather interesting, I'll admit. Cannot say that I wish to try it myself."

"No, no, I'll be saving this tale only for those who will appreciate it," Darian laughed. No plaques for him. "Mmm, I suppose for you. Me, I can always welcome a little excitement. Retail gets very predictable after a while. Whatever happened to those poor Muggles to send them to the hospital?" The toys were less a surprise. Muggle items of all sorts got enchanted on a regular basis. Why, Darian himself had the most lovely teevee taking pride of place in his living room... not that it was a family-friendly flat to begin with, given the artistic nudes on the wall, but he made a mental note never to invite his aunt over. Not if it would result in the loss of his beautiful teevee. Tapendra had set it up for him and everything, and he loved it.

"Though sneezes as a method of propulsion was rather interesting, I'll admit. Cannot say that I wish to try it myself."

"Sounds unpleasant," he agreed. "Hard to steer." He toyed with his cup as he idly picked it over but no, seemed a dreadful sort of situation all around. Tea with his aunt did not require much concentration. Darian did not look for ways to steer the conversation, nor was there anything he particularly wanted to know - not today, at least. It was quite a leisurely visit.

Darian seemed rather relaxed, and Aisling allowed herself to lean back as she watched Darian's cup. "Would you like more tea? Cakes? There's hardly anyone else about to eat them, so feel free." She hardly had a vast appetite herself, no matter how much she enjoyed the food. Especially not at this age.

"Muggles, like the rest of us, do not inherently bounce. This becomes particularly evident when they're flying through the air at high speeds. And, well, it's hardly the sort of situation which Muggle hospitals are equipped to deal with." She shifted a little in her chair, remembering her own aches from the incident. "I received a rather unfortunate set of bruises merely from being hit by one of them." That was the sort of incident she preferred not too mention in too much detail to Tarron. He did worry so at times. "Though it saved him from a rather nasty impact from a wall, so I can hardly protest too much."

She shot a glance back towards the teapot, then turned back to Darian. "I don't envy the Obliviators on such a case. So many muggles can be dealt with via a few convenient excuses, but not with this."

She seemed to be watching his plate rather keenly, noting how he hadn't eaten anything. To appease her Darian chose a honey cake then laid it casually down again, sans one perfect, circular bite. He was the type to promote extremes, and did not admit anything but a pure pleasure at the cake's exquisite sweetness, its cloying decadence, the film of sugar it left on his lips and tongue. But Darian also needed to fit into his designer skinnies, and so preferred cake less than the deceiving satisfaction of that flavored water, tea.

"You don't say," he replied, darkly amused. Though no muggle-hater - and in fact quite the opposite - his aunt's dry wit had him smiling at the mental image of flying muggles. Then laughing, as she admitted her own involvement. "I'm so sorry; that sounds really awful. Your sacrifice for the greater good... "

"Perhaps they could say there was a... " He snapped his fingers. "Mini-tornado. Rampaging gorilla. Gas explosion. Isn't that generally what they use?"

Aisling noted to herself to find something lighter for the next time Darian was over. Making something he hardly ate just left far too much for her to eat. The girls enjoyed such, at least, though sending it via owl to them was a bit more difficult than just handing it to them at home.

"Oh, it's far more amusing in retrospect. Though your uncle was rather concerned to have me arrive home late, bruised, dirty, and just a bit bloodied. I won't be just popping into the office on a Saturday for a while after that." She poured herself  a bit more tea, and gave Darian a somewhat curious look. He hadn't quite answered the question regarding tea.

His comment about gas explosions brought a quick smile, and she nodded and she set the teapot back down. "Gas explosions are rather traditional, true. I tend to prefer something a bit more honest, however. Let the Obliviators fray the edges of memory rather than leaving such enigmatic spaces. For this case, perhaps a hallucinogenic allergen. Let them frame their fuzzy thoughts via that."

How genteel of his uncle. They all had those nights.

"I can imagine," he commented, sipping on the last of his tea. Though he did not want to seem inattentive he did let his gaze slide briefly past Aisling's shoulder towards the rest of the house, wondering if said uncle might wander by soon. It would be a break in the light conversation Darian would rather welcome. Not because he did not enjoy Aisling's company, but because variety was the spice of life - and also because he enjoyed the expressions his uncle made when he saw Darian's clothing.

He needed one of those expressions right about now, a reminder that his life would never fit in here. Leisurely was quickly becoming far too domestic. It was the tablecloth and the garden and the nice little home. Darian could afford such, but he'd never settle down. The very idea of it made him itch.

"That's liable to cause just as much of a panic," he said, idly gazing down at his tea leaves. He used his finger to nudge them into a more appealing future. "Hallucinogens loose in London! Then again, perhaps no one will notice the difference."