Friday afternoon, 11 September 1942, in Laurens van Rensselaer's office at St Mungo's Hospital...
“You can’t be serious about going to Alessio’s wedding,” Jameson Wilkes said, wondering why anything in the world that Laurens van Rensselaer might do could still shock him. “Lady Malfoy didn’t invite you. Probably because you hate him. I know why she didn’t invite me.”
“Probably the same reason I dislike him so,” Laurens said cheerfully, making a paper airplane out of the last chart he’d drawn up for Asher Greengrass and aiming it right over Wilkes’ shoulder. “Made you look,” he said with satisfaction when Wilkes turned his head just as it hit the doorway behind him.
Wilkes rolled his eyes. Trust Laurens to act like a bratty ten-year-old whenever you asked him not to do something insane. “It wasn’t cheating, Laurens. Technically, what we are doing is cheating. I’m actually married to someone else, or have you forgotten that?”
“It would be difficult for me to forget that,” said Laurens, “when you’re always complaining that your wife’s about to throw you out. She won’t, you know. As long as she lives with you, she can do whatever she likes. If she went back to Castle Perilous, she’d have to take Cariadoc’s orders. And live with Poppaea. And Gareth. I can’t decide which one of those is worse, but they’ve both got me beat.”
“Is this your way of hinting that you’d like to live with me?” Wilkes sat down in the chair opposite Laurens’ desk and closed the door with a flick of his wand. He wasn’t sure how he hoped Laurens would answer that question; it would be nice to know that Laurens took their relationship at all seriously, but he wasn’t sure that anyone could live with him for long.
“God, no!” Laurens said heartily. “I wouldn’t mind living with you, and Julissa would be an amusing roommate as well, but I’d have to live with your kids.”
“Dorian likes you,” Wilkes informed him gleefully.
“I like him too,” said Laurens. “But that’s because I don’t live with him.”
“I don’t know why I love you-”
“That makes two of us,” said Laurens, “though I could give you the relevant composites and synastry if you wanted them.” He grinned at Wilkes. “So what’s this got to do with Alessio’s wedding? Come on, ‘Jemmie’, do you really think I’d miss an event like that? There’ll be more drama-and better comedy-then there ever was at the Globe. And the Malfoys will be providing the food. And more importantly, the liquor. Because everyone knows the Zabinis should always have liquor, especially when there are more than five of them in a room.”
Jameson Wilkes clapped his hand over his face and slowly let it slide down, shaking his head. “The sad thing about this is that if you had been asked, you probably wouldn’t go!”
“No, the sad thing about this is that Corinne Allison’s going, and it’s not the bouquet she’s hoping to catch,” Laurens replied, his blue eyes gleaming with schadenfreude.
“I don’t think so,” said Wilkes with a frown. “He asked her to go with him, and she turned him down.”
“Well, of course,” said Laurens. “That would be like admitting she was interested in him. And if she does that, she might have to admit that they’re seeing each other. Instead of…whatever it is that they’re doing.”
“The same thing we’re doing,” Wilkes pointed out with a shrug. After all, it wasn’t as though they ever admitted to what they were doing; it was just that nearly everyone knew.
“We do it better,” Laurens pointed out, with an expression that was positively satanic.
“Don’t say that to her,” Wilkes warned him. “You never know…she might ask you to prove it.”
Laurens just gave him a speculative look. “You think?” He watched Wilkes’ face change for several seconds before he let himself laugh. “But maybe I should ask her to bring me up as her guest.”
“You wouldn’t.” I will not be surprised at the level to which Laurens is willing to sink to amuse himself, thought Wilkes. I will not. I will not.
“Wanna bet?” Laurens laughed again. “Relax. That would be almost like being invited. I figure that if I just show up, the Malfoys will either feel guilty enough that they didn’t invite me to let me in, or they’ll forget they didn’t invite me. Either way, I get in. And I’m sure Poppy Pomfrey’s not going, given all of the trouble they’re having at Hogwarts right now. It’s a crime to waste food in wartime, you know, even if you’re a Malfoy.”
“You’re incorrigible.” Wilkes sighed.
“And you always incorrige me,” Laurens said pleasantly. “Anyhow, you know they know they didn’t invite you, and who else do you trust to tell you exactly what happened? Or do you really want to rely on whatever version of the story you hear from Julie? Or even Susie?”
Wilkes snorted. “I’m not going to approve of this. It’s not as though my approval or lack thereof will change your plans, so I might as well keep my dignity and my own opinion.” He rolled his eyes. “I really don’t know why I even care about you.”
“Because nice boys and girls bore you,” Laurens said smugly. “Or dump you. You’re already getting bored with Miss Morgan, and you couldn’t hold on to either Lunete or Alessio. Not that you tried.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched. “You wouldn’t like me so much if I was nice. Admit it.”
Wilkes just glared at him. “I will not,” he huffed, but they both knew it was true.
drschadenfreude and potted_james