Outfit

Liadan had a marvelous last few weeks. She had spent time in France with her family, Vedir had entertained her in France- which had thrilled her aunt and uncle, but had given Liadan a free pass from anymore harassment about being set up on dates. And, since she had returned home, she and Vedir had been owling and had gone out a couple of times in the last two weeks. He had even taken her to the opera- which had been most spectacular. Liadan had never been able to truly enjoy herself on a date before. She was not ashamed of Vedir, and she was attracted to him- it was a completely new feeling for Liadan, and she was enjoying- much more than she probably should.

So when the invitation had arrived for Liadan to have dinner with Vedir at Hassard Hall- his private home- she had been quite ecstatic. The idea of having dinner with him at his house was exciting- and in Liadan's mind it meant that there was something more going on here than a casual interest. A proper, handsome, wealthy, pureblood wizard was courting her- and she had not needed to the help of others to catch his interest.

Liadan knew that Vedir lived with his mother. She was curious as to whether or not she would be joining for them dinner- and certainly wanted to make a good impression. From what she knew of Vedir, they were slightly more progressive than she was- though Liadan was generally stuck a century in the past with her traditions and fashions. As such she attempted to find a dress which was conservative, flattering, and appropriate. She had settled on one of the many tea length dresses which she owned, choosing a dark shade of blue.

The witch spent quite some time primping, and arrived at Hassard Hall a fashionable five minutes late. A butler greeted her at the door- something Liadan was slightly surprised by. She did not know of many witches and wizards who kept human staff- most kept house elves, like herself. Though Liadan's house elves were much better behaved than others.

She was led to a study, and Vedir was sitting behind his desk. Liadan smiled sweetly. He looked so handsome! Crouched over his work like that. Liadan waited, however, for the butler to leave before addressing him. "Vedir, darling!" she crowed. "You look so handsome!" Lia reached out and adjusted his bow tie. "Most dashing!"

Outfit

The arrival of Liadan was met with Vedir looking up, a polite and reserved smile on his face as he put his quill aside. The papers had been mundane letters, at a glance; at a longer look, Jonas would have loved to have them. Vedir appeared to be writing sheet music, but a wave of his wand sent the papers fluttering away.

She was surprising cheerful and forward, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise as she adjusted his tie, but met her enthusiasm with a smile. "I do my very best," he said, taking her hand and kissing it, as was his habit. "And yet I pale in comparison to you, my dear."

Still smiling at her, he stood, coming around the desk. "Mother will likely be joining us somewhat late. She's only just returned from Brazil, and seems eager to re-establish her local ties." And spy on the two of them, he suspected. His gaze slid slightly, eyeing the large decorative mirror pointedly.

"She's invited a few guests of her own, she tells me," he said, the lie as easily spoken as ever. "She refuses to let me know who our fellows are to be." He chuckled. "Apparently it's to be a surprise for both us and her guests."

He extended his arm for her to take. "Come! She's delayed dinner somewhat, and if I recall, your previous visit did not allow you to take in the grounds...?"

Liadan held Vedir's hand a moment longer than was necessary after he kissed hers, then pulled it daintily away. "You flatter me," she said with a blush. They both knew it was fake, and they both knew that the compliments were necessary. It was all a part of the very delicate dance the two of them had been dancing.

But when he announced that his mother would be joining them, Lia couldn't restrain herself from letting the slightest triumphant grin tug at the corners of her mouth. Mother joining was a good sign. It was not every day that a man like Vedir allowed his mother to meet the women in his life. "I do look forward to meeting your mother," she said. "I bet she is such a wonderful woman. She must be to have raised such a handsome, cultured, seemingly perfect pureblood son. It is not a simple task- no matter how amazing the woman." As evidenced by her mother and her brother.

"I'm certain whomever your mother has decided to invite will make divine dinner guests," she said. "And even if they are not, I shall be on my very best behavior. For your sake... and mostly for mine. I would hate to make a horrible first impression on her." It was very important that Mother Prideaux liked Liadan, after all. Without mother's approval, the last month of dates would be a waste. And then there would be talk about what Liadan must have done wrong to lose Vedir's interest.

He mentioned the grounds, and she shook her head. "Unfortunately, I did not get to see them. I was so flustered that day!" she told him. "So angry with my cousin for putting the visit off on me, and so nervous at how inappropriate you must have found it all. But I suppose it was a blessing in disguise. And poor, dear, Lothario- off to Azkaban. He was such a good man, you know," Liadan lamented. "Helping all those charities, bringing art and culture back to Wizarding Society. A few discrepancies in those balance books and poof! Off to Azkaban! It's a shame, really..." Because naturally the other charges against Lothario should not be mentioned- they weren't appropriate conversation, after all.

Placing her hand on his arm, she smiled again. "Tell me, Vedir, how shall I address your mother? I should hate to offend her."

Vedir's fleeting and slightly unsure smile revealed his thoughts on that. "She is a very powerful woman," he said, simply. "You may find her a bit...overwhelming." His mother was always up to something; just like he was. Having her in the home was profoundly unsettling, though he was loathe to admit it. He couldn't wait til the old bit- baggage shipped herself off somewhere. Preferably to Antarctica.

"You are more optimistic than I! My mother has a rather cruel sense of humor, my lady. The only assurance is that we are not about to find ourselves dining with muggles," he said, with a laugh. At least she wasn't likely to have also invited her latest fling. It was one thing for his mother to date; it was quite another for her to date men younger than he.

They walked down the hall, Vedir's hand ontop of hers as they headed to the main staircase. "We've been redoing the grounds," he admitted. "The original ones were smaller and had almost nothing in them - not even flowers! Perhaps you can offer us some suggestions," he added with a coy smile. "I've almost no inspiration for that kind of thing, I admit."

Reaching the ground floor, they headed for the front doors, the butler reaching over to open them.

"Naw, I don't think anyone'll notice one missing statue," Jonas assured his partner cheerfully, tucking his hands deep into the pockets of his coat as he limped up the long walkway to Hasard Hall.  "And I already told you, don't worry about the dent.  You did right well on the roads; backing up once you're in the car park's always the hardest part.  You talk someone into letting me drive a tank next time we're both in Israel and we'll call it even, yeah?"

The dinner invitation, sent by a Mrs Prideaux, had come as somewhat of a surprise.  Jonas supposed it shouldn't have been; the prior week had built into the incident with Kanika, and he had no doubt that Vedir Prideaux had eyes and ears at the Ministry.  Either way, it wasn't an opportunity that he felt inclined to turn down.  Whatever game the Governor was playing, he wanted to be there to see the next move.

The supposedly long, leisurely journey to the Prideaux country estate had given him the chance to keep another promise: teaching Adon how to drive.  Granted, 'driving' might not be the most accurate word to describe traveling in a motor vehicle piloted by the Israeli -- 'screeching' was probably a bit closer to the truth, as was 'tearing around corners' and 'generally traveling at an average velocity and vigor normally reserved for James Bond.'  Though both passengers and vehicle had survived the voyage intact, it had been enough to make Jonas decide that maybe they had watched enough spy films for a while, and perhaps it would be better to switch to movies like 'Driving Miss Daisy,' especially if Adon was going to be a regular feature behind the wheel.

During their life-or-death tear over to Hasard Hall, Jonas had briefed Adon on the basics of what to expect: the verbal games, the manners.  They'd discussed the parts that they'd likely have to play.  But as much planning as they'd done, Jonas hadn't been expecting the two figures that would greet them as the front door swung open on their approach to the house.

The red-haired Auror stopped short, surprise flickering over his features for the briefest of instants before he managed to get his expression back under control.  Breaking into a wide grin, he beamed at the couple.

"Well, evening, Governor!" he greeted the other man good-naturedly, though his attention was fixed firmly, solidly on the petite woman.  "Fancy running into you lot here!"  His grin grew wider, his expression dissolving into utter glee as he took in Liadan.  This -- this was better than Christmas.

"It still count as constant meddling if we've been invited over, d'you think, Miss O Morain?" he asked cheerfully, flashing her the brightest smile he could muster.  "Or do you reckon we could get a pass for the night?"

"Well, and I think it was animated," Adon said defensively as he climbed out the driver's seat. "Because it certainly wasn't there when I began backing up. . ." It took only three quick strides to catch up to his partner with his slower, uneven gait. "The dent won't be difficult to fix," he said, leaving it at that. As gifted as Adon was at demolition, he had acquired a somewhat necessary skill of un-demolitioning things. As far as he knew, magic didn't really meddle with the mechanics of a car like it did electronics. There were plenty of enchanted cars out there. Perhaps, even, they could work on sprucing the car up a bit. New coat of paint. . .

Unfortunately, not the same thing could be said of Jonas' attire.  No amount of magic could fix the slightly outdated, loose-fitting, utterly Muggle suit his partner wore. At least he'd had the sense to keep any loud ties with Muggly the Bear on them at home.

Comparatively, Adon thought he'd done quite well keeping up with Jonas' driving skills. Adon'd only ridden in a car a handful of times, and twice with Jonas--once when Dreogan was possessed, and. . . that other time. Jonas had a skill for swerving in and out of traffic, looking backwards to talk to passengers as he drove--something Adon hadn't had an opportunity to practice yet, and--of course--hitting people with the front-end of his car.  Adon didn't suspect that would ever enter his driving repertoire, but it did feel nice to know that he could go as fast as Jonas, if not even a bit faster.

Adon checked his watch. Jonas had said it would take them 2 hours, but that they were running late--which was made only later as Adon had fussed with some loose stitching on his cape and had insisted on repairing it before a Pureblood dinner. By Adon's reckoning, they'd made up nearly a half hour in time.

Adon's confident smile and befitting swagger contrasted, a moment, with Jonas' grey and surprised face as they approached.  Adon's brows knit curiously, but it only took a moment for Jonas to recover.  It was true that tonight was, in part, Adon's party--they were celebrating his recovery, as well as Prideaux's shave with death--but Jonas had been here before. These were his contacts, even if they weren't his people.

Looking at the pair, standing stiffly, formally, hands resting upon the others', he thought that, had his mother not had the sense to up and leave this little British world, they'd be his people.  Customarily, Jonas was putting on a jovial display. Adon's smile became a bit forced--wondering how such conduct had won Jonas any rapport with this crowd. Turning his eyes to the couple, he said, "So I see everyone's already acquainted with each other. . ." he began, waiting a moment for a formal introduction before giving a sardonic smile. ". . .Adon Eleor, then. We are so glad to be invited. I hope we pass the second level of review. Pending Miss. . . O'Morain's permission, I believe?" he arched a brow with a bit of a smirk.

"Overwhelming?" she repeated, with a tinkling laugh. "Come now, Vedir, you shouldn't say such things about your mother. You will have my nerves shot to pieces before I even meet her! Surely you don't want me to make a bad impression because you've put my nerves on edge all evening, do you dearest?" Liadan looked up at him, a slight pout formed on her lips.

But the pout disappeared as he spoke of the gardens. "Not even flowers? What a shame! I love flowers and nice gardens. We have some beautiful gardens at my estate. Unfortunately I am not the one who designed them- that was my mother. Though I've no doubt the gardeners that I keep on hand would be more than happy to offer suggestions and aid your own staff in some way. Does your mother not have an opinion?" Liadan asked. "I'm sure she has inpeccable taste and would be more than capable to-"

The doors opened, and Liadan stopped mid sentence as she took inthe two men on the doorstep. Her lip curled, and she took a half step back. Liadan removed her hand from Vedir's and crossed her arms indignantly. Immediately she looked up to Vedir, scowling. "If anyone has a cruel sense of humor, it is you, Mr. Prideaux." Liadan had no idea how Vedir's mother could have known about her personal rivalry with Jonas unless Vedir had told her so- so this was all Vedir's fault.

She did not like how the two aurors immediately made it a point to poke fun at her. Especially the one she did not know well. Pending her permission? "It would be incredibly rude for me to ruin the Prideaux's dinner party because of past misunderstandings," she said simply. "I am sure we will all have a wonderful evening. If Mr. Prideaux and his mother find you appropriate dinner guests, then it is not my place to argue."

"Though I must say, Mr. Prideaux," she looked to Vedir again, "that I am quite suddenly feeling very ill. Faint, even," Liadan fanned herself with a hand. "Perhaps too ill for dinner."

Vedir's expression of surprise was elegant, gentlemanly, and genuine - and, on the inside, a complete lie. Jonas's happiness, Adon's amusement, Liadán's annoyance; all lovely possibilities for tonight.

"Gentlemen," he said, voice tempered to just a hint of annoyance as he moved aside to let them in. "Good evening, Mister Trevelyan, and well met, Mister Eleor. This is the first time we've met with you awake, I believe," he smiled brightly at Adon.

"I see," he told Liadán, as she pulled away, complaining. "Perhaps-"

And the doors at the far end of the hall opened, cutting him off. A flash crossed Vedir's features; for one nanosecond, his annoyance was in plain sight. But his annoyance was soon lost as his mother entered the room.

Camille Prideaux was not a very tall woman. She made up for this, however, but having a personality big enough to fill a theater. It entered the room before she did, and stayed around after she'd left. As she walked in today, she wore a large white fur coat and a fashionably plain black dress that hugged her knees. Her black heels clicked on the floor, and her halo of white hair swept back on her head, like an explosion in slow motion. Diamonds glittered on her fingers and around her neck, and she all but exuded glamour.

"Gentlemen!" She cried, extending black gloved hands wide and smiling brightly. "My dear miss Ó Móráin! Lovely to see you all. Oh, don't look to sour," she scolded her son, who was giving her a politely surprised look - but she knew him. "They're my guests, are they not? And they saved your life! So good to meet you, darling," she spoke in a voice that carried, her beaming and sunny demeanor blasting like a hammer. "Vedir has told me so much about you! Aren't you just lovely!"

Servants entered from behind her; distinct from Vedir's in that these were good looking, and young...and all men with deep tans and curious, undisciplined  expressions. Despite their formal dress, the title 'cabana boy' hung over the pair like a neon light.

"Come, come, dinner is in half an hour, you should all get comfortable! Felipe, Andre, go and fetch them some refreshment." Camille's voice slid from her 'dealing with guests' voice to her 'ordering servants' tone with practiced ease.

Vedir glanced at Liadán, raising his eyebrows subtly in a silent 'told you so'. He looked at the two Aurors and smiled, though his smile had a hint of shark to it. "Mother enjoys having guests," he said.