3:30 PM
Divine Tea

“I’m exhausted,” Charlotte sighed, slipping into a chair in the pretty tea shop as if it were a fainting couch. “And parched.” She smirked across the intimate table at her pretty blonde friend, with whom she had just spent a good two hours walking around Hogsmeade, being good citizens, and contributing gold to the town... or various shopping destinations in the town, rather.

“I love what she’s done with this place,” she added, settling back finally to glance around the shop. She hooked a finger around the frame of her dark aviators, pulling them down as she cast her big blue gaze around the wonderfully-scented teashop. She couldn’t remember what it had been before this, but she’d visited several times since the place had opened back in August. “I wish half of those useless lots in Diagon Alley would take her lead...” Charlotte wrinkled her nose a bit at the thought. “But I guess Gringotts isn’t lending out like it used to.”

Setting her sunglasses down on the table beside her little purse, she reached for the little menu of pastries and desserts. “What are you going to order?” She asked, probing her friend’s appetite. They would only be serving food for another half an hour, which was just as well, because the young women needed to leave room for a wardrobe change and photographer’s party that evening. “I think I’ll take one of those huge muffins to my cousin.” Carbohydrates were a girl's best friend.

Liadán settled all too happily into the seat across from her friend, carefully arranging her purchases by her feet. She nodded in agreement- Lia was equally exhausted, and just as thirsty. She followed Charlotte’s gaze around the little tea shop with a slight smile. “It is very nice. I like the simple way she has decorated. Many people don’t seem to realize that simplicity is often the best way to go.”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Liadán stated, studying the other menu that lay at her seat. “I admit I haven’t been here before, so I’m not entirely sure what is good. Although, everything seems to sound delicious at this point. Promise you won’t let me stuff myself, Charlotte. I allow myself to even put on half a pound today and the dress I bought for the evening won’t fit.”

“Perhaps I will just have some tea and save snacking for the evening when we are at the party. I find it is a great excuse to get away from people you don’t wish to speak to if you mention you are peckish. Especially those dreadful leeches- you know the sort, young men who believe they can marry up in status, and intend to use us for what we can offer.” Liadán clucked her tongue and shook her head. “I suppose they don’t realize that it takes more than good looks to sway us.”

Liadán pointed to the menu and smiled. “Oh, this Strawberry Garden tea sounds very promising. Have you tried it?” she asked. “The one called Apple Dreams sounds equally good. Oh, I do hate having to decide sometimes!”

Simplicity is often the best way to go.

Charlotte nodded in agreement, smiling all too knowingly at the aesthetic philosophy.

And, aesthetically, it was an innate truth. Now if only Charlotte could delve into her own subconscious and admit her excessive habits. But, ha, there was rarely such thing when you were twenty-four, well to do, and rather (admittedly) cute. Liadán was in a similarly, lavishly complex boat, naturally.

“Anything chocolate is divine. The house cake is sinful,” the brunette assured the blonde, using the word that equated taboo action with, well, cake. Having one’s cake and eating it too was tricky, but Charlotte was sure they would manage. Slytherin alumni were notorious! If only poor, dear Quincy could still eat cake and not see it on her hips the next morning... (That, of course, being something an exaggeration, but a fun one nonetheless). Charlotte feared the day she herself turned thirty. “We’ll just split something and go light on the Hors d'œuvre.” That way they could still have both. Canapés the size of gumdrops? Problem solved. Charlotte winked, and would have toasted, had they any champagne. That would have to wait until later. For now, they were going to have tea. “And please,” she added in a drawl, rolling her eyes. “You can fit into anything.” Liadán was near-famous, in Charlotte’s opinion, for retaining her youth. The St. James woman hoped her darling friend would share the secret, lest Charlotte have to work harder to grab Eddie’s attention away from his semi-drab wife.

It was true, though, that food was a good way to avoid conversation. Or any obligation at all. Forget to meet a man for dinner? Bring him a cupcake. (Baked by Charlotte...’s favorite pâtisserie.)

“Mmhmm...” She knew all too well the sort of boy (yes, boy) of whom the blonde spoke. But Charlotte would be telling a lie if she hadn’t played with one or two in the past. They were like rag dolls: a new one was always fun for an hour, until the next came along. Still, she had zero intention of settling down with any such thing at this age. She was Charlotte St. James! She had standards... “I think I would Avada myself if I got married to one of those dolts at this age and was expected to start popping out heirs. And of course, he get all of the congratulation.” No thanks. They had just bought new dresses, and Charlotte wasn’t going to let her hips-to-waist ratio go to waste just yet.

“We’ll get one of each and a few cups,” she mused aloud. Why not indulge if they could? Her blue gaze found a shop employee, and she beckoned over the person in hopes that their order could be placed. “One Strawberry Garden tea, one Apple Dreams tea... and something very chocolate. Two forks.” That would do it. “Oh! And a muffin to go. The biggest one you have,” she said with a slightly wicked grin.

“That sounds like a wonderful plan!” Liadán exclaimed. Splitting something and avoiding hors d'oeuvres might do well enough. She did have a sweet tooth at the moment, and she was wanting to quiet it down. She would just be sure to eat less of the dessert than her friend did.

“And that is certainly not true! I am so worried that I am getting love handles. I’ve never had much in the way of hips, and now they are getting a bit soft. Everyone reassures me it is part of becoming a woman. I’m fairly certain, at twenty-two, I am already a woman. It must be a side effect of something else. I suppose I shall have to put myself on a diet again. I cannot allow myself to gain too much weight. I won’t ever be able to find a suitable husband if I balloon up like some people we know have done.” Liadán wasn’t really insinuating a certain person by emphasizing the word, but hoped Charlotte would come up with someone that they could gossip about. 

Liadán giggled at the idea of Charlotte popping out heirs. “Oh, they’re not all bad. Besides, if we allow ourselves to get too ripe we’ll get passed up. If you wait until your best child bearing years are behind you, no self respecting man will marry you for fear he won’t get a male heir. And all rich men want a male heir. There is no way they would allow their fortunes to pass into the hands of another family. I understand the thought process. The business that has been in my family for generations is going to pass into another family once I have children. Though, I’d rather it go to a proper, deserving child than it pass on to my brother just to keep it with the family name. I’m sure that whatever male decides he wants me to give him children will have figured that out beforehand, too.”

She remained quiet as Charlotte ordered, waiting on the person to go away before she spoke again. “Which is exactly why I have been being so picky about the men I am seen in public with. I cannot allow my family’s legacy to be ruined by some over eager little boy. Why, just the other evening I received an owl from one who is but nineteen, confessing his desire to marry me. Spotless family tree, to be certain, but one of those families who has lost all of its money, so all that it has is its family tree. I met him once, danced with him at an event. No doubt he is after my money. I will not marry someone who has less money than I do so that they can squander it away.” Liadán clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Pity, really, what the world is coming to these days.”

Whoever’d said they couldn’t have their cake and eat it too had clearly not met the pair of aristocratic Slytherin alumni sitting at the quaint table in the clean, unassuming village teashop. Where there was a will... an ambitious will... there was room for indulgence of any sort.

Charlotte rolled her eyes again and sipped at the chilled water that had just been poured for them while they waited for their tea and cake. “You have self-restraint,” she assured the blonde. Charlotte’s definition of self-restraint may not have been everyone’s, but she could recognize the proper breeding in others. Dear Liadán had a doll’s face and delicate figure, but she knew full well how to take care of herself. This trait was on the long list of reasons why they got along so well. The seeming innocence was also great, Charlotte had discovered, for getting the pair of them out of pinches. “But if you insist on dieting, share your secrets,” she added, raising her rich brows as she stared at her friend over the rim of her glass. There was a devious sparkle in Charlotte’s innocent blue gaze. “I don’t want to be left behind while you’re gathering annoying admirers in the millions.”

As if they both didn’t already have that delicious problem. As terribly pathetic as the majority of their suitors were, it was an ego boost of the most classic sort, and Charlotte wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Her friend had a point about ripeness, she supposed. Girls were like apples.

“Mmhmm... but the trouble is finding one who is wealthy and level-headed like that, in addition to having nice genes.” Charlotte wasn’t going to raise ugly sons, and she wasn’t going to raise dupes or pigs. She wanted angelic little boys who would grow into strong, respectable men. Men who would marry little Charlottes-- though undoubtedly that would be older, wiser Charlotte’s worst nightmare. She would never admit this to herself, naturally. She very much liked who she was. “And I want a daughter,” she pined. Her mother had been the same. After five boys, she had desperately wanted something to put in dresses and groom with silver-backed brushes.

“Nineteen?” She shivered. It was obscene. Recovering her posture quickly, Charlotte still had to wrinkle her nose at the idea. “Merlin, if I ever did that, I’d turn into Quincy...” As jealous as she was, Charlotte loathed the idea of being a housewife so young. Her ex-almost-husband’s death had been a blessing of sorts, for that very reason. But then he had also been older, with a stable career. Marrying up also marrying up in years. “If poor Adam had just held out for a few more years without offing himself in that fire...” She trailed off, shaking her head. If she’d been a Catholic muggle, she would have crossed herself in his memory. She looked down at the engagement ring she still wore on her hand (though not on her ring finger).

Their treats arrived, and Charlotte flashed a pretty smile at the waiter. “Cheers, my love,” she said, pouring a bit of tea into whimsical china and taking a small sip of the lovely concoction.

Liadán giggled at Charlotte, shaking her head. "There are no secrets, dear. I just watch what I eat and I try to lead an active life. Regardless of what some would have you believe, it truly is that simple." And it was, really. Liadán was particular about using magic secrets for beauty, and she was even more wary of trying those weight loss potions. Oh, she had no doubt that they were effective, but something about them didn't seem safe. Besides, it was nice to hear people ask her if she used them and to honestly tell them no, she was naturally like this.

"Wealthy and level headed is an awful lot to ask for," Liadán lamented. "It seems as though you can never find it all in one package, of if the whole package does exist, then someone unworthy has already snatched it up. I've been thinking of seeking out men from other countries. Perhaps there are some willing ones elsewhere. I don't meet many men in Ireland, and when I'm in London it's for shopping or societal affairs so I don't have time to properly meet them. I don't think social functions are good for meeting prospective husbands. Everyone's mind is affected by alcohol and people are too busy putting on airs."

Liadán had discovered from experience that just because a man acted proper at an event didn't mean he acted the same way outside of it. She had agreed to go on a date before with a man who was not only good looking, but very well behaved at a party she had attended. However, when she was alone with him for dinner, he had been all hands and no propriety. Liadán hadn't gone on a date with anyone who had asked since. She had decided that being single was better than putting her reputation in jeopardy.

"You better have a son before you pop out a little girl. You don't want your hubby getting anxious waiting for an heir. If you have a son first, then you can have a daughter second and that will be all there is to it. If you keep having daughters before sons, there is no telling how many children you will be expected to have before he gives up on getting one. I hope I don't have to have more than two. I want a daughter, also. Everyone knows the son is for his father, and girls are much more fun. It's something to entertain us. My mother had me second, and I was like a little doll for her. Naturally I won't treat my children as my mother treated me, they are more than little dolls to play with, but they will be raised properly."

Their treats arrived shortly, and Liadán poured some tea for herself. She smiled at Charlotte, and took a tentative sip, testing the liquid before dedicating herself to drinking more of it. "Oh! Isn't that divine?" she asked, taking a larger mouthful on her second sip. "This chocolate treat looks splendid, too. But as I said, I have to be careful. I don't want to get any softer than I have already. Love handles, Charlotte my love. Can you imagine how horrible it would be to have them so early? Without even being able to blame it on having children? No, I can't chance it!" She pushed the plate of food away, closer to her friend. "Your metabolism has always been better than my own, after all, so I'm sure you'll enjoy it more."

Charlotte, like many a Slytherin before her, was predisposed to doing things the easy way. But when it came to her physique, she was always jumping hurtles, trying to discover the next best way to stay a pretty, perfect ten for the mirror on her wall. No one wanted an ugly piece of art hanging over their precious antique vanity. Still, she tilted her head and smiled slightly at Liadán wise answer, toasting her before taking a cool sip of water.

“Other countries...” She murmured. Her smile widened. “That’s an idea there, love. Even better if you don’t speak the language. You’d never have to argue over nonsense. Everything sounds better with an accent.” Depending. But Charlotte herself wouldn’t mind strolling around on the arm of some Russian Ministry ambassador, an heir to an Egyptian fortune. Still, she rather fancied her life in London, and wondered what her parents would say if their darling daughter shipped off to another part of the globe. The St. James were a very longstanding and respectable family in the little Pureblood community made up of Hogwarts graduates like the pair of young woman presently seated in the tea shop. “Lots of dark, handsome sons with Durmstrang discipline.” Maybe it wasn’t something to let go of, entirely.

With a sigh, Charlotte trailed a finger over the condensation of her water glass. “My mother had four sons before I arrived. Could you imagine?” But still, the blonde was right: producing a male heir was the ticket to the thrown of luxury. She could have her daughter and then get back her body before time took its toll. “Well, your little doll and my little doll will be raised together,” she announced with a grin. “Like cousins.” Much better than Quincy, with whom Charlotte was always trying to compete. Their angels would get along as well as Liadán and Charlotte. “Maybe we’ll find a pair of brothers on holiday and become sisters-in-law.” Invisible rose-tinted glasses were a favorite accessory. Charlotte always viewed the world in ideals; she wasn’t exactly the most practical of witches, and yet, she wasn’t naive enough to not know exactly what she wanted. It was why she wasn’t yet married.

With a dainty sip of tea, she nodded. Setting the cup carefully down on its painted china plate, she reached gingerly for her fork. “It’s just what we needed before we wander off the swallow cocktails and pretend we don’t want to hex those tipsy tarts who are always hanging all over the weaklings...” Charlotte? Never. Well, not the weaklings, anyway. She preferred a good, strong man. Then flirtation was perfectly acceptable. And hexing the cows in her way... well, if it was underhanded and unseen, what was the harm? She poked her fork at the chocolate, taking a small sliver of the silky, decadent cake. “Did you see that one last week, at the charity even for St. Mungo’s? Now those were love handles. White robes... she looked a stuffed turkey in a bride’s dress.” Obscene.

Savoring the bite, she rolled her eyes teasingly, but lovingly at Liadán. Metabolism. They had both won the genetic lottery, so to speak, but fretting over a slice of cake only meant that they were even more in tune with themselves than the common witch. And who wanted to be common?

"Durmstrang discipline does sound much more appealing, does it not?" Liadán liked strong, handsome men. She had not met very many Durmstrang graduates, but the few she had encountered were miles beyond the level of the boys who came out of Howarts full of themselves and not at all prepared for the harsh realities of the world. "Perhaps we really should take a holiday and go look for a pair. Even if they aren't brothers, cousins or best friends would work just as well." She smiled brightly. "Wouldn't that be wonderful, Charlotte? We could throw parties together! We could entertain each other all of the time. Our husbands could go off and do whatever men do and we could sit and sip tea and gossip."

"And if we have little girls they can sit with us! And we can teach them all of the little tricks of small talk and proper etiquette. It would be a fun little lesson if we all did it together! Imagine, them learning who is who in the wizarding world and growing up to be just like us! Won't it be marvelous?" Generally Liadán was a bit more realistic, but sometimes having tiny little dreams was nice. Even if they did not find or marry brothers or friends from Durmstrang, naturally they would raise their children together anyway. And then their husbands would learn to get along anyway. It was the natural course that things would take.

Liadán giggled quietly at the image of a turkey in a dress. "Really, people like that need a friend to tell them no. No, you do not look as lovely as you think. I certainly hope after I have my baby fat you won't allow me to stuff myself into a dress so small. Then again, they do make girdles and the like for a reason. Some people just don't take advantage of handy under garments. On days when I feel particularly bloated I'm not at all ashamed to say that I take advantage of tummy tuckers." Picking up her tea she swallowed another bit and then smiled.

"Can you keep a secret?" Liadán asked as she leaned forward. "Sometimes, if I find those tarts a bit too annoying, I slip silencing potions in their drinks. They clutch their throats and freak out and it is such great fun! I brew it very weak so that it lasts for all of a minute or two. Just long enough to terrify them, and short enough for others to assume that they are making a scene just to gain attention. It's great fun! Perhaps I should give you a bit to carry around in a dropper in case you feel the urge to do the same." She smiled wickedly as she leaned back in her seat. Liadán had a tendency to lean a bit to the dark side. Oh, it was harmless enough really, but anyone who knew her well enough would realize it was just a tiny peak at the true character behind the facade that she put on for the public eye.

“Mmm... I have an uncle who attended. He’s very admirable. Well... he was.” Until he’d let his wife talk over the work. Which was all fine and peachy, because Charlotte loved the idea of being a strong, independent woman, but men had to stick to their wands, too. Right? Hmm...

The lavish life. Liadan had just described it perfectly. Charlotte’s face took on a dreamy quality, and the young woman almost sighed, as if such an idea could never be more than a desire. Even for a pair of ambitious, well-to-do, and thoroughbred young woman like they happened to be. It was almost comical, as her life was nowhere near difficult as it were. But everyone wanted what they couldn’t have, and girls like Lia and Lotte were prime candidates for bachelors. Why couldn’t the right wants waltz into the portrait frame?

“We could start in the East and work our way back this way,” she mused, adding to the delightful plan of globetrotting for a pair of deep-pocket princes. “We’ll cover more options that way.” And hopefully be toasting one another with tea cups and diamond-encrusted ring fingers in the distant-but-also-somewhat-near future.

Girdles. How painful. Charlotte only hoped her self-discipline were slightly better than that when the time came, but she had no doubt that her friend would bounce back into her perfect, petite, feminine shape. It came with the territory of looking young. In ten year’s time, Liadan would still have that youthful glow that women twice age pined after. “Oh, I’d definitely wear one before I’d  walk out of the house looking like a pygmy puff... but I don’t think either of us are that dense, love. We know what the mirror is trying to tell us.”

Eyes sparkling with the idea of being told a good secret, Charlotte leaned forward and nodded. Her smirk dissolved into a calm, gentle-lipped smile that let Lia know she could trust Charlotte. Truth be told, Lia was one of the few whom Charlotte felt at liberty to trust and respect. But she soon found herself leaning back in her chair with a laugh, dark hair swishing animatedly behind her. “You’re a devil, doll." She gave accolade with a wink, when she’d finally stopped giggling. “I’d love to join in the game... but I think I’d end up waiting until they pop off to St. Mungo’s.” Oops. Another one bites the dust.