Thirty-two. Thirty-two. It was Jules Deville's thirty-second birthday and she did not understand where the time had gone. She'd devoted so many years to school and work that apparently, she'd come crashing into her thirties without much warning. Gone were the days of drinking until she was puking to feel like she'd appropriately rung in a new year. On her last birthday she had been working; her thirtieth she refused to acknowledge altogether.

This year, though, it was time to begin the acceptance stage of growing up. There were many standards Jules held about this phase of life, and she tried to mimic all of them. Instead of a raging night at the clubs, she was hosting a dinner at her house (She'd hired an elf to do the catering, of course- she worked in the field of curing poisons, not spreading them.) Rather than wearing a mini-dress and pumps she donned a tasteful dress. It was gaudy yet refined, and although she still had purple hair and shiny shoes, she felt rather modest.

Checking up on a few last minute things- whether there were a variety of wines (of course there were); she ensured that each place setting was arranged to perfection. Something made her feel like this birthday party would be a signifier of her Adult Life, and not surprisingly, Jules was doing her best to control it in her favor.

Margo hadn’t been to a lot of birthday parties that did not take place at bars.  The truth of the matter was, even now, her birthday was in three days and the only plan she had was to mosey on over to the Rover’s Fancy and get as many people as she could to buy her bloody drinks until she stumbled home all over herself, probably getting lost halfway there (it was about a five minute walk) and annoying someone on the street until they helped her back to where she needed to be.  (It wasn’t as though she’d thought about it in that much detail…)

But, when Jules had invited her to her birthday at her flat, Margo had assumed it was just a regular house party.  Maybe Jules just wanted to be in the closest proximity she could to her own bed for her birthday celebration.  It wasn’t a bad idea.  So, Margo dressed like she’d dress for any other event at a bar she might have attended and picked up a sizable bottle of whiskey on her way. 

The flat wasn’t entirely far from where Margo lived and she enjoyed the walk since the weather was nice – and her jacket was enchanted to match the temperature, so she was even a little cool.  She approached the building, made her way up the stairs and knocked on Jules’ door with gusto.  She was excited for this.  House parties were the greatest and though she imagined maybe they all fancied themselves too old for this sort of thing (at least out loud), Margo had no such feelings. 

“Happy birthday!” she announced loudly (probably for her entire floor to hear) when Jules opened the door and she held out the bottle with the ridiculous bow she’d found at the store on it.  “I got you a present,” she declared, as though it wasn’t obvious.  “Fun in a bottle!”   

Quincy had left the kids with Eddie for the night. She complained that he worked so much in his elevated position now that she looked after the kids a lot of the time single-handedly, and it wasn't often she was able to escape for a night and just go out. She didn't like putting onto her parents all of the time, and much as though Charlotte would claim that she would love to look after the sprogs, Quincy knew that melted chocolate and smeared finger prints weren't Charlotte's style.

Instead, Quincy bit the bullet and told Eddie that he would just have to not work one night, as she was going out. Then Jules' dinner party plans were made, and that was it; the perfect escape from her motherly duties.

Quincy had almost finished doing her rounds in the hospital. It was normal practice for students to spend a few months in each department before finalising their choice and stepping into a few months of intense training in the chosen subject. Her last month had been spent in Potions and Plant Poisoning. She still had another two months to go there before making her final decision, and up until this point Spell Damage had been the main contender, quite swiftly knocking the others off their brooms. But Potions and Plant Poisoning was so fascinating! The young witch feared her decision wasn't going to be as easy as she'd thought.

Arriving in front of the door, Quincy smoothed out her simple black dress with the palm of her hand, and took a deep breath. It felt strange turning up to a dinner party on her own, but then she supposed that's what happens when one is single. With an elegantly presented bouquet of flowers and a box of varying tricks and trinkets from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes balanced precariously in one arm, Quincy gave a soft knock at the door.

"Oooh ooh ohh! Hang onnnnnn!" Elixa came bounding towards Quincy at the door, doing her best to dash up and join her St Mungo's colleague so she could slip inside without having to knock again.

"You've trumped me," she exclaimed on seeing Quincy's beautiful bouquet and a box. She was carrying a midnight blue parcel, tied with a gold bow. The pattern swirled every now and then, enchanted wrapping paper from Flourish and Blotts.

Within was 100 Bottles Before You Bite written by a wizard who had visited more than a hundred drinking establishments around the world run by wizard kind before he had turned up his toes. One would have guessed it was down to drink, but it was dancing on the bar that had broken his neck on the first night of researching for the second volume… Either way, the book had a cult following, and Elixa had not spied it amongst Deville's book collection when she had visited once before.

"Haaappy Birthday!" Elixa exclaimed as the door came open.

The invitations that Jules had mailed out two weeks prior indicated that guests should arrive at 7pm promptly. Many wizards and witches that she knew held time as a 'suggestion' rather than a 'requirement,' but Jules was not one of those people. The clock in her kitchen alerted her that it was now 7pm, and also observed that her guests were late. Jules scowled at the clock, silently cursing its accuracy, and then gave a threatening glare to the first house elf unfortunate enough to make eye contact with her.

At long last, a knock sounded at the door. Jules had studied a few issues of Witch Weekly that offered advice on party-throwing. She had never thought to pick up the magazine before, but ever the student, Jules wanted to ensure that she was properly hosting her dinner party. To her academic delight, the magazine offered wisdom from invite-setting to thank you-notes. However, the magazine also revealed to Jules something that she would never have previously considered: that the party wasn't just for the host- it was for the guests as well. Even if it was a birthday party. The guests were meant to enjoy themselves, even if it was at the cost of the host.

Bearing this in mind, she answered the door and refused to berate her first guest. It was Margo Amherst, an old drinking buddy -- it was good to see her, and yet when the door opened, Jules' face fell. While Jules was fairly impressed that Margo had shown up not only relatively on time but was also her first guest, she was thoroughly disappointed in Margo's wardrobe choice. The invitation had clearly indicated that the guests dress to impress, not as though they were going off to fight dragons or whatever it was that Margo did for a living. Had she even changed after work?

"Good to see you Margo," Jules said amicably. "Since you didn't have time to change after work, how about you borrow something of mine?" It was a standard Jules comment-- somewhat backhanded but impossible to deny. Even the clock on the wall expressed concern at Margo's wardrobe choice. Jules flashed one of her most charming smiles and let her friend into the flat. She took the bottle of whiskey, and although tequila was her drink of choice, Jules liked to have a well-stocked bar. "Thanks Marg," she admired the gawdy bow. "Last door on the left-- plenty of Little Black Dresses for you to choose from." She didn't even care if Margo put on makeup. There was a standard of dress and this dinner party would be fancy. Jules was the birthday girl so there could be no denying of her requests.

A pair of Healers in Training were the next to arrive. Jules felt a flutter as she caught a glimpse of Elixa, who she'd gone home with after a long night of drinking not too long ago. It was also good to see that Quincy had torn herself away from her squalling infant long enough to make an appearance. Jules did not completely comprehend the concept of having children and pretty much dedicating the rest of your life to raising them, but she also thought that Quincy was pretty and sweet. Plus, the "St" in her last name connoted relative wealth, which was always an asset.

"Hello ladies! Thanks for coming," Late, Jules didn't say the last word, obediently abiding by the law of Witch Weekly. She never thought she would be the type to follow the girly publication, but a scholar held their texts to the highest regard, and tonight Jules was a student of Playing Hostess.

She politely kissed Elixa and Quincy on the cheeks. One of the house elves she'd hired for the evening appeared obediently to take the jackets of Jules' guests. "Nobble, put these in my bedroom please" Jules directed. Perhaps Nobble, with his crisp white apron, could be of some assistance to Margo. She turned back to Elixa and Quincy. "Others should be arriving shortly, and food will be served soon-- Can I get you something to drink?"

Quincy hadn't even bothered to ask around and find out who else was going to Jules' party. All she needed to know was that fellow-student Elixa would be there, and she was happy. Elixa's never-ending smile and her sometimes child-like humour kept Quincy sane from the insufferable know-it-all Healers (and patients) she had to deal with on a daily basis.

"Oooh ooh ohh! Hang onnnnnn!" the familiar voice sing-song voice echoed across the hall just as Quincy had knocked on the door. Quincy turned on her heel, a grin on her face as Elixa commented on the gifts.

"Never mind these," Quincy warned as she turned back to the door, "We're late!" That meant they were in trouble. Jules had specifically stated '7pm Promtly', and they were at the door a good three minutes after. Jules was known for her intolerance of people's bad timing.

"Hello ladies! Thanks for coming," the door opened and Jules was there. Though there was a welcoming smile on her face, there was a hint of slight annoyance that suggested she wanted to berate the ladies for their untimely entrance.

"Happy birthday!" Quincy exclaimed along with Elixa, almost in unison, almost as though the pair had rehearsed. Quincy held up the two gifts. "Flowers, for the beautiful woman, and a joke box for the inner child!" Quincy was more used to buying children's birthday presents, for friends of her kids. She wasn't entirely sure what an early-thirties woman wanted these days. She made a mental note to enlist the help of her cousin Charlotte next time. She knew a thing or two about gift-buying.

Quincy reciprocated the cheek-kissing and then made her way into the apartment, handing her jacket to the house-elf. "Plum wine would be wonderful, if you have any?"

The sweater was hideous. Cass couldn’t look down at what he was wearing without grimacing. How had Flynn managed to convince him to wear such a horrendous outfit? Cass’s eyes traveled down to his trusty penny loafers and then over to Flynn’s matching ones. Oh, right. After years of talking up the miracle of penny loafers, Cass had finally gotten his best friend to wear a pair of them. Which was why Cass even agreed to these matching ugly sweaters in the first place. Now he was sorely regretting the deal.

“This is probably the ugliest thing I’ve ever worn,” Cass complained (as he had been doing since Flynn had shown him the sloth-adorned sweater), “and that’s including my novelty cap phase.” Admittedly a dark time in his adolescence.

He knew very well that this sweater was a recipe for embarrassment, especially at a sophisticated dinner party that would no doubt be full of his co-workers whom he would have to face another day. Not only that, but he was pretty sure that Jules would not be amused by their choice of clothing. Cass fidgeted awkwardly, buttoning up his suit jacket all the way in an attempt to hide the daunting sloth on his sweater; it did little to fix the problem, for now only the eyes of the sloth could be seen, peeking over the healer’s lapel.

Cass walked in stride with Flynn as they approached the door. Checking his watch, Cass sighed. “We’re late,” he muttered. It was only a few minutes, but Cass usually preferred to be prompt – he supposed that he had taken too long trying to make the sweater look good. He turned his head in Flynn’s direction, narrowing his eyes ever-so-slightly. “I hope you’re happy,” he stated in an accusatory tone, “You know everyone’s going to make fun of us. As if we haven’t been bullied enough in our lives.”

Well, there wasn’t much use in postponing any longer. With a deep breath, Cass raised his fist and knocked on the door.

As Margo stood in Jules’ room, she had to admit the whole thing had been a little jarring.  The invitation did say dress to impress, but this was pretty impressive to Margo.  Besides, she’d brought that amazing bottle of whiskey and that was pretty fantastic.  Wasn’t it enough?  She had to placate Jules though, so while it sounded like others were arriving, she was standing in a room, looking in a closet, and staring. 

She didn’t do dresses, at least not short ones and never for anything she wasn’t being forced to go to.  So, she did the second best thing.  She put on one of the dresses over her pants.  Margo didn’t exactly display her leg for people to see and the fact that she could shove her shirt in her bag was good enough.  Black suited her and she could still show off her tattoos.  The leather pants were tight enough (and made to look as though she had another full calf) so it was sort of like she had leggings… or something. 

At this point, it was as good as it was going to get, so being suitably  attired, she walked out of the room and was happy to see Elixa – a familiar face, and then someone Margo didn’t know.  She imagined it would be a lot of St. Mungo’s people.  Now that she knew it wasn’t the type of party that she was exactly expecting she wasn’t so keen on it.  But, she’d deal.  “Elixa!” she greeted enthusiastically and approached the other witch, then looked at Quincy (whom she did not know by name).  “Hullo to you too!” she grinned, about to ask how the witches were doing when she heard a knock on the door, and like a krup after a squirrel, her head immediately swiveled. 

Interest was hard to keep when new sounds happened. 

Nothing pleased her more than people gathering in her honor, and her birthday was meant to be exactly that. Every year Jules took advantage of the self-inflating day, which she celebrated as if it were a holiday. She treated herself to every decadent, ostentatious gift she desired. She showered herself with gifts, never sure if the people she had in her life would choose the things she really wanted. She was nothing if not picky, and she could hardly blame her friends for not having her refined tastes.

The gift from Elixa came close to reaching Jules' expectations; it was a valuable text that Jules was shocked to realize she did not yet own. She thanked her earnestly, and couldn't help but flirt a little with the pretty young witch. They had spent a night together a few months earlier and it had been a very good time. The elves came up beside her with the drinks her friends had requested, as well as a cocktail for Jules. The elves made an impressive dirty martini.

Taking the gifts from Quincy gratefully, she admired the gorgeous arrangement of flowers and smirked at the joke box. "Thank you, Quincy, that's lovely," Jules smelled the flowers and gave a satisfied nod. Even if she was an adult in every sense of the word, there was part of Jules that would always enjoy a good prank. Other people's sufferings were a source of amusement for Jules; she didn't want anyone to truly ache... but she felt pleasure at other people's misfortune. There was a word for that, she'd heard...

Her younger sister slinked out from the kitchen, where she had been helping the elves cook, even though Jules had expressly told her not to. They knew what they were doing, and Jules had a very specific menu. Appetizers began to exit the kitchen, an assortment of savory and spicy hors d'oeuvres her guests could munch on. Jules had a very sophisticated palate and tried to get a good variety. There was a cheese plate that included some baked brie and something that smelled older than she was (and aged cheese was all the rage these days). There was grilled prosciutto and tartettes and something out here had caviar.

Another knock sounded at the door and she opened to see Cass and Flynn. "Nice to see you, boys," Jules greeted. They were probably about her age, but Jules talked down to just about everyone. Her pretentiousness here was unintentional, but she felt she was surely more mature than someone wearing such a sweatshirt. At least Cassidy was wearing a jacket; technically, he had followed the dress code.  "Come on in, appetizers are just out," Jules informed them. She said nothing about the clothes and instead maintained eye contact.

Margo was finally out of her bedroom- she had kept her pants on but at least now was wearing a dress. That was the best she could ask for, she supposed. Sighing, she took a big drink from her martini. Having guests was like managing a nursery, Jules recalled from her early days at St. Mungo's. She noticed her sister talking to Margo, and it was good to see her socializing. She tended to be rather quiet and conservative (or- at least compared to spiky, snarky Jules).

"She made me change too," Jules' younger sister Ellie was saying to Margo. "Don't feel bad - she's just a birthday princess." She rolled her eyes a little, but she couldn't help but smile. Jules had always been this way, ever since they were kids. She was so type A that it was hard to believe they were sisters -- Ellie was not so concerned with small details as her sister was.

Jules' place was filling up with familiar faces and Elixa moved from one to the other as they greeted Jules and moved into the place. It didn't take long to get down to some of the food, and Elixa spotted Margo appear from somewhere and gave a wave from across the room. A girl she didn't recognise had stopped to talk to her.

"Mm, these are delicious." Elixa exclaimed a little more loudly than she might ordinarily as she finished chewing one of the spicy hors d'oeuvres, trying to encourage the others to dig in with her.

"Nice sweater." She added to Cass with a smile. "Did I miss a theme mention on the invite?"