Liadán had not gained anymore weight- thank Merlin- but she had not managed to lose any either. As such, many of her dresses were quite snug. Instead of suffering any longer, the witch had decided to finally buy a few new additions for her wardrobe until she could lose the ten or so pounds she had gained. Liadán was still incredibly self conscious about it, and was often lamenting to anyone who would listen that she felt like a whale. On a frame as small as hers it was a huge difference (at least in her eyes). Liadán had always prided herself on being small and dainty- a woman couldn't be dainty if she got fat!

She had tried on a few dresses, not finding anything she genuinely thought looked good on her figure. Currently Liadán stood in front of a three way mirror wearing a conservative and traditional purple gown. She twisted and turned in front of the mirror with a sigh. "I really don't think this much purple is good on me," she said to the elderly woman who was helping her. "I typically wear things less... bright?" Liadán squared herself in front of the mirror again, tilting her head to the side. Typically Liadán wore browns, blacks, grays, and some green- just not many colors. For events she would wear rich colors, but for an every day dress? Liadán wasn't so sure.

"Perhaps if you pin it it will look better," Liadán suggested with a sigh. The witch held perfectly still as the older woman carefully pinned the gown- making sure it didn't pool around her feet, and attempting to give her a more defined waist. The only downside to being so short and thing was the fact Liadán lacked womanly curves- a trait she readily envied of other women. A few minutes the gown was pinned, and she turned to the side- then looked down at her chest. "Sometimes I wish I had less self respect," she confided in the old lady, "if I did, I'd take some potions to help me out in that area."

And amused sound - little more than a like 'hmm -' clued  Liadán into the fact she wasn't unobserved. Vedir stood several feet back, dressed in his usual well-tailored suit and hat, a slightly michevious smile playing on his lips. His cloak, which was lined in fur, was draped over his arm.

"I'm sure you're fine, Miss Ó Móráin," he said, tone sweet, but with that sublte nuance than hinted that he'd been standing there for long enough to overhear her complaints. "Besides, 'tis a sin to mar such natural beauty, or so they say. Hallo, Madam Malkin," he added, nodding to the elderly witch.

The old women nodded curtly to him and he seemed content to remain waiting on the sidelines.

Liadan heard a sound, and noticed a figure in the mirror she had not seen there before. And the way he was smiling was physically painful! It was all Lia could do to trap the sound of frustration and protest in her throat- but there was nothing she could do about the dark blush that crept into her cheeks at the realization that Vedir was talking about her lack of bosom. It was not an appropriate conversation for her to have with any man- especially not Vedir Prideaux. She quickly crossed her arms over her chest, eying him from the mirror- refusing to turn around.

He was lucky that he had added flattery to the equation, otherwise Liadan would not have deigned to acknowledge his presence at all. Her conversation with Madam Malkin about her chest (or lack there of) was none of his business! "Good afternoon, Mr. Prideaux," she greeted- still attempting to bring her face back to its natural color.

She was not going to address his compliment, however, or admit to her own misgivings about her breasts. "Are you in need of new robes, Mr. Prideaux, or do you just enjoy watching ladies dress? I certainly hope it is not the latter, I had put much more faith in your breeding that that," Liadan commented idly as she adjusted the sleeves of the gown somewhat awkwardly.

"I'm here an an errand for my mother, actually. She gets very picky about her robes and insists they be re-tailored as often as she desires. That," he added, and vaguely gestured to his cloak, "And my favorite cloak needs some help - potions play merry hell on these things, you know."

He smiled that thin smile again. "Allow me to assure you that watching ladies dress is hardly a habit of mine, Madam," he said, laugher evident in his tone. "That is a nice color on you, however. Very vibrant - brings out your features quite well."

Liadan inspected him with open skepticism from the mirror. A man who would run such an errand for his mother was a curious sight indeed. A woman who could command such a man to take care of such a trivial task must be quite the matriarch. Vedir seemed to Liadan the sort of man who had much more important things to worry about than having his mother's robes retailored. How were they to even be properly tailored if she was not present? It was not an appropriate question to put to Mr. Prideaux, so she kept it to herself.

"I have learned to wear more casual clothes for the purpose of brewing," she said instead. "I tend to experiment with potions on a regular basis myself, explosions are quite common when one is attempting to perfect a recipe." They were especially common when one was attempting to make a potion more potent or experimenting with one so old half of the directions are missing from the book. "Perhaps another cloak would be wiser, it would be a shame if your favorite one succumbed to a potion gone wrong."

When he mentioned her features again, Liadan finally turned to face him, offering a sly smile of her own. "Considering Mr. Prideaux, the only features you've clear sight of are those of my backside I highly doubt it is the color that impresses you." Unless color could enhance a woman's lack of curvature- though Liadan was nearly positive that could not be the case.

"I suppose the color could always be changed with a simple charm though," she finally said to the woman. "I just hate having to waste my time to do such a thing when it is so much easier to buy something that is the right color in the first place." Spoiled? Liadan? Not at all! It was perfectly normal to prefer dropping galleons on a single gown as opposed to spending about one minute to mutter a proper charm. "Although, if Mr. Prideaux insists it is a fine color, I am inclined to believe him..." Liadan lifted her eyes to his in the mirror. "You would not lead me astray on such a matter, would you Mr. Prideaux?" she inquired.

"A sensible policiy, and one I employ myself," he said. "This was an ordinary spill, however; my mother's pets are quite expensive simply due to the damage they cause." Sometimes he wanted to have his mother killed, he really did. Life had been nice when she'd been off travelling, but now she was home and asking pressing questions, especially about Grandchildren. And critiquing his ability to hide bodies.

He leaned on the counter casually, making that vague laughing sound again. "Perhaps I am, Miss Ó Móráin; or I could be cleverly using the mirror to see your face, as well," he said, his tone jovial but a tad mocking. "However, if you would like closer scrutiny of the rest of your body, I may not be the man you wish to have indulging in such a pleasure."

Smiling nicely, he ignored the eye-rolling of the Madam and folded his cloak, placing it on the counter next to him. "I would never do such a thing, Miss Ó Móráin!" he said. "Not a lady such as yourself."

Liadan was not certain that she cared to know what sort of pets his mother had that were so messy. The witch understood the level of disgusting that creatures could be- she ran a farm, after all, but was very careful what she wore whenever doing any type of business that could result in mess. The idea of being dirty or messy disgusted her and offended her entirely.

His response to her comment about her backside was not what she had hoped for- but at least he was not being rude. (Liadan had not noticed the mock in his voice. She was too busy being scandalized at the idea of him scrutinizing the rest of her body.) "A pleasure certainly reserved for the most worthy of men," she assured him with a slight smile. Really Liadan should not be flirting with Mr. Prideaux- she was involved after all, and she had put herself in jeopardy by taking Christian public on Valentine's Day.

"Well then, I suppose I'll be different for once and try the purple," Liadan said. She held still as the witch began using her wand to carefully adjust the gown while it was still on Liadan's body. "Tell me, Mr. Prideaux, how are things? I trust you've been properly taking care of Hogwarts ever since that terrible accident?" It had been in the prophet and Liadan had been shocked. It was a shame she had not weaseled it out of him that day- if only he had let her know she would have had a bit of gossip. "Such a stressful job, isn't it Mr. Prideaux?" she asked. "I hope you've found a way to handle all of that stress. I know it's not easy."

Liadan gave a vague gesture then. "It's been nothing but stress on my end as well ever since I've started having problems with the farm. But things seem to be picking up at least a small bit. I'm sure you've good friends to keep you entertained and help you keep your good spirits."

"To be sure," he said, returning the slight smile.

When she spoke of Hogwarts, he grunted vaguely. "Amazingly, it's been less chaotic than expected. No real clues on who the killer was; the Aurors have yet to tell us if they've found anything." He said the word Auror with a subtle distaste.  "A lot of people are convinced the Schlagenweit boy did it - we've had him sent away for the rest of the term." Poor kid, really.

"Hogwarts is doing fine - your, ah...brother is running it quite well, from our perspective." That was the best way to put it, at least - and with that, he dropped Declan from the conversation. It did not do well to discuss estranged relatives in public or in polite conversaion.

He relaxed further, tempted to pull out a cigarette but stopping himself. "Not too stressful, really; once you learn howto filter the complaints of parents properly, it's actually rather dull. It can be quite fun at times, as well; and while I would not call the tragic death of Grosvenor fun in any way, she's certainly made the position much more interesting than it has been since Snark took her position."

Ah yes - her farm. Such a pity, really. "It's good to hear your business is picking up - the Aurors have been rather annoying lately, haven't they? Still, they have jobs to do, I suppose."

Her eyebrow arched a brow at the mention of her brother. She had been aware of his teaching position. Word got out through various pureblooded students, but Liadan had not spoken to him of it. "He is quite unfit for the job," she commented to Vedir, pawing at the old woman to leave her be for a few moments. "You do realize that he was trained more in potions than his current position?"

"He was ousted from the potions community you know," Liadan told him. "Couldn't find a job there to save his life. His potions master that was apprenticing with ruined any chances of him chasing that dream. So the idea of you and the headmistress not only allowing him to teach but giving him such a title is quite absurd. Of all the people in the wizarding world to be teaching impressionable young minds my treacherous brother is the last one you want." He was the reason her father had been sent to Azkaban- the reason their reputation ruined and the reason her father had been forced to die in a cell that he didn't belong in.

But the only thing other than her mentioning her brother that could make Liadan angry was any positive word about the aurors. A part of her wondered if Vedir was intentionally pushing her buttons. If he was then he was a most wicked and cruel fellow indeed!

Liadan laughed. "Jobs to do?" she asked. "What a ridiculous notion Mr. Prideaux! The aurors have no place nosing around my farm. That's the job of the magical creature division. I haven't done anything illegal- the animals were just sick. The only job the aurors have to do is to harass upstanding wizarding citizens like myself! I've given them no reason to suspect me of anything and all that they are inclined to do is assume that I must be to blame for something." Her feathers would be visibly ruffled if she had any. As it was her posture had changed and her had been tossed with indignation.

"I have done nothing but cooperate with the law ever since I gained control of the company and they refuse to acknowledge that. Apparently I am to always be guilty of my father's sins. It was not enough that one O Morain should rot away in Azkaban- they will not be satisfied until they make it two."

Having to travel into Diagon Alley every time he wanted to post something with a bloody owl had become an irritatingly unending hassle.  Even finding the Leaky Cauldron took a sizable amount of energy and effort, and by now, he knew exactly where on the Muggle street the pub was situated.  It was almost enough to make him want to buy an owl, but the thought of having to live with down and feathers and who-even-knew-what-else drifting through the air of his office quickly made him shudder.  The kitten experiment for Gwenna's seventh birthday had been bad enough, even ignoring the tragic ending; he wasn't willingly subjecting himself to that sort of personal torture again.

At least the normal inconvenience of having to travel all the way into Diagon had been mitigated by sending out two additional owls, one each to Eleor and Radley, equipped with poorly written fan letters expressing enthusiastic agreement with the Witch Weekly 'Ten Hottest Ministry Men' article.  Smiling crookedly to himself, Jonas kept the collar of his overcoat turned up as he made his way down the street, keeping a careful eye on his surroundings.  Vigilance had become a perpetual habit most of the time, at least when he was out in public, and its current emphasis had brought on a quiet urgency.  Tait Aldridge had been murdered fifteen years ago because he'd kept habits and let his focus slip.  He had no intention of making his friend's mistake.

Watching the shop windows as he passed was sort of an idle habit, but every so often, something caught his eye.  He paused, stopping in the street to regard the figure that he recognized through the paned glass.  Liadan O Morain.  Young.  Blonde.  Pureblooded.  And undoubtedly buying a dress again, and certainly charming both the saleswoman and the finely-dressed gentleman who accompanied her with the poise, grace, and good humor that she normally possessed.

A rather vague notion clicked in his head.  This was, very likely, an extraordinarily bad idea.  He had promised both Tamis and Adon - the first weeks ago, the latter more recently - that he wasn't going to go looking for trouble.  He had, in fact, made it quite clear to Tamis what he thought about individuals, Auror Corps or otherwise, who went barging in to potentially hostile situations without bothering to think about how they were going to get out of them.  There was no way that O Morain wouldn't recognize him.

There was no doubt that this was a bad idea, but it was still a thought.  Besides, it wasn't as if he had anything better to do at the moment and there had to be at least a half dozen valid explanations as to why he'd pay a visit to a robe shop, if only he took a minute to think of them.  He wasn't exactly going well out of his way.

Jonas thoughtfully adjusted his hat, tilting it low over his forehead, and turned his collar the rest of the way up.  Keeping his leg straight to minimize the normal limp, he headed into the shop, making an automatic beeline for a rack on display closest to the door as he listened carefully for any hint of conversation behind him.

Vedir let her finish her small tirade before he raised a hand, to signal her silence. "One must keep in mind, Miss Ó Móráin, that part of the job of the Aurors these days seems to be being nosy," he said. "Tragically, they seem to assume that apples never fall far from the tree - forgiveness has never been a strong point with their members, it would seem." A slight smile teased his features at that.

"Besides, they need all the good press they can get, with what the Prophet keeps saying - pity, really, that they find the most upstanding citizens to be a better target than the petty thieves in Knockturn and Diagon. Still - the name makes the headline, I suppose. Better to have arrested a Malfoy than a banshee."

He paused as another patron entered the shop, and frowned quizzically.

Liadán was going to respond to Vedir's lament when he frowned- attentions diverted. She followed his gaze to a familiar profile, and sighed heavily. She waited on Madame Malkin to finish her adjustments before stepping off of the platform. She disappeared into a dressing room, donning her own clothing again. Upon re-entering the main shop, she handed Madame Malkin a handful of coins and asked her to wrap the dress up for her.

"My apologies, Mr. Prideaux, but I don't feel comfortable continuing our discussion in that man's presence," she pointed a finger at Jonas. "Mr. Trevelyan makes it a habit of harassing me in private as well as public. It is not the first time he has followed me into a dress shop. The man had the audacity to impersonate an auror to gain entrance to my estate a few months ago. Naturally when I alerted the auror office of the infraction they decided it was not worth investigating. They still allow the silly man to roam free."

"Tell me, Mr. Trevelyan, for what reason do I owe this visit today? What ridiculous accusation have you come about? Questioning me further about stolen goods I've not had a hand in? Or just your typical game of provoking my anger?" Liadán crossed her arms and arched an accusatory brow at him.

Then she motioned toward Vedir. "This is Mr. Prideaux, he works at the ministry on the Hogwarts Board of Governors. Mr. Prideaux, I reluctantly introduce you to Mr. Trevelyan, an annoying beast of a man who likes to harass me. Give him ten minutes and he will level false and ridiculous accusations at you as well."

It was clear that O Morain had recognized him in a disappointingly record time.  The conversation - ironically discussing the foibles of his recent profession, which he would have quite enjoyed hearing the rest of - dwindled and then vanished, and the woman vanished into a dressing room.  Sighing, Jonas began to count the feathers on a particularly ornate robe, certain that a more interesting discussion was about to begin.

As always, Liadan O Morain didn't disappoint.  Jonas looked up blankly, affecting his best perplexed expression as he looked between the two.

"Sorry?" he asked politely, not entirely able to fight back the smile that was already tugging at his mouth.  To be fair, he hadn't really had the audacity to impersonate an Auror - well, he had sort of had the audacity to impersonate an Auror, but not to her.  He wondered if what he were doing now could be counted as impersonating a private investigator.

"Had no idea you were in here, actually," he replied cheerfully, flashing Liadan a bright smile that he hoped would be infuriating.  "I was out shopping for something for me wife; it's just our good fortune to run into each other."

With a smile, he turned to the woman's companion, extending his hand as if he fully expected the other man to oblige him and shake.  Judging by the look of his robes and the company he was keeping, he was probably a pureblood; that made such a cooperative response fairly unlikely. 

"Charmed, Governor Prideaux.  Jonas Trevelyan," he offered amiably.  "Sorry to cut in on your invigorating day together.  Seems to me like chatting about stolen goods is a bit of a scandalous discussion topic for an afternoon though, innit? he asked, gaze shifting back to Liadan as he gave her a bemused look.  "Isn't there something else more pleasant that we could talk about instead?"

On the inside, Vedir had to admit he was extremely entertained; this was far from the boring errand he had anticipated. He was glad; the young Miss Ó Móráin rarely disappointed. He could feel it - the bubbling laugher that rose up from the clear animosity between the two, the cheeky way Jonas brushed her off...

With a lightning-quick smile, he took Jonas's hand and shook it in a firm and friendly manner. "Well met, Mister Trevelyan," he said, beaming. "Come now, sir - we were merely whining about the Aurors, as is so often the habit of the pure." He glanced to Liadán. "Though I must admit falsely accusing young ladies is news to me; surely if you needed some work, I might have sufficed? I haven't had an Auror snoop around my home in some time. I must say I'm feeling rather left out." His tone and expression betrayed nothing but jovial amusement; he even had the slight twinkle in his eye down pat.

On most occasions, the presence of a man as wealthy, influential, and pure as Vedir Prideaux would cause Liadan to proceed with extreme caution in her behavior, words, and actions. However- the presence of a thorn in her side, a man she had grown to hate with more animosity than a body so small should be capable of retaining- seemed to outweigh the importance of maintaining her good reputation with Mr. Prideaux.

She watched, silently, as Vedir shook the man's hand. Indulging him in his ludicrous behaviors. She would have chastised him- were it not inappropriate for her, as a woman who was not romantically entangled with him, to attempt to correct his behavior. She was not his mother or his wife, so it was not her place. Instead she waited on him to finish, fighting the slight smile at his offering his own home for Jonas to invade and snoop around in. No doubt even the aurors couldn't come up with a good reason to investigate a man like Vedir Prideaux.

"I can think of a great number of topics more pleasant than your constant meddling in my life," she answered him. "Although the most pleasant topic I can think of at the moment would be your imminent departure from the wizarding world- though preferably from life in general, as that would be the only certainty I had you wouldn't bother me." Even if he came back as a ghost, there was a spirit division in the ministry to handle unwanted hauntings. They could even keep him out of her hair.