Supersonic... magnifique... très très cool...
All: this should be backdated to sometime in mid-February. Danged RL.
The Delacour workshop -- a multi-story warehouse on St. Anne’s Court -- was abuzz with employees: junior designers, models, shopgirls, and more, already hard at work on the fall collection. Since starting her line years ago, it had exploded. So much that Fleur had had to move her headquarters away from Diagon. Space in the wizarding center of London was limited and couldn’t accommodate her growing business.
So they’d moved. Soho was a lovely area of London; close to the best the city had to offer, but still far enough away that it was quiet. And best of all -- there was space. Several stories of it.
Her customary cup of coffee was absent as Fleur swept into the office suite with a smile and a bag of macaroons for Marie-Christine. “Bon matin, ma cher.”
“Bon matin, Fleur.” The brunette’s green eyes twinkled as she peeked in the bag, lips curling when she glanced back up at her old friend. “Qu’est-ce que l’occasion?”
“Dois-je une occasion?” Fleur’s lips twitched at her friend’s replying nose crinkle. “I ‘ave an appointment at ten... a Ms. Cassandra Cornfoot. You will let me know when she arrives, non?”
“Bien sûr.” Marie-Christine waved her hand as she pulled out a pistachio macaroon. “And later, you will be telling me why you are smiling so much this week.”
“I ‘ave no idea what you are talking about.” Smirking at her assistant, the blonde swept into her office and shut the door.
It was two past ten when Cassie came bustling into the building. She’d had an early meeting at the Ministry that ran long and it was only her years of experience running in heels that kept her from being discourteously late for her appointment. The fact that she was getting a bit of a bump slowed her a hair, but Cassie was still at the stage where people weren’t certain just by looking at her whether she was with child or she’d simply been eating too much casserole lately.
Looking to a pretty woman near the front, the blonde smiled. “Hello. I’m here to see Ms. Delacour-Weasley. I’m afraid I’m running a few minutes late.”
Sophia glanced up at the harried woman and gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s quite alright, Ms. Cornfoot. We’ve been expecting you. I’ll let Marie-Christine know you’ve arrived.” Pressing her wand to a small stone next to her appointment ledger, the blonde said, “Marie-Christine, Ms. Cornfoot is here.”
The stone spat out a response, and Sophia tucked her wand away. “She’ll be right down. Would you like anything to drink? Coffee, tea, Perrier?”
“No, thank you,” Cassie answered. Still a bit winded, she sat down on a plush chair near the entrance and waited for Marie-Christine.
It wasn’t long before the brunette entered the foyer, her heels clicking lightly on the floor. “Mrs. Cornfoot?” She extended her hand to the blonde. “I am Marie-Christine, Fleur’s personal assistant. How do you do?”
Hoisting herself out of the comfy chair, Cassie shook the woman’s hand. “Very well, thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Years of garden parties with her mother had served her well. “I appreciate you seeing me so quickly; I’ve been wearing my most forgiving dresses, but some clothes that actually fit will be a welcome change.”
“Bien sûr. Zat is why you ‘ave come to Fleur. She ees ze best.”
“Her clothes have always served me well in the past,” Cassie admitted.
Marie-Christine nodded and gestured for Cassie to follow her. “Eh bien. Please, follow me. Fleur ees expecting you.”
She led the taller woman through the entranceway and into the workshop proper where designers and tailors plying their craft, past stylists prepping models for test shots, and assistants scurrying about with coffee, notes, and anything that was demanded of them. It was hectic and fast-paced, but that was the way they worked.
The pair ascended a set of stairs towards the mezzanine overlook where Fleur’s office was located. Already, a set of chairs and a coffee table were set out for the meeting, a warm pot of Earl Grey perched between the seats.
“Eef you will ‘ave a seat, Fleur will be right out.”
“Thank you.” Cassie slipped into one of the available chairs and crossed one long leg over the other. It was not the first time she’d purchased Fleur Delacour-Weasley’s clothes - Stephen had been getting her knickers from here for quite some time - but this was the first time she’d be commissioning a wardrobe from the woman herself rather than simply buying off the rack. It was a little exciting.
Slipping out of her office, Fleur shut the door to her inner sanctum with a soft ‘click,’ lips curling when her blue gaze lighted on the young woman sitting in the meeting area. Gabrielle had mentioned Cassandra Cornfoot; even though her sister had never met the woman, she was a friend of her twin, Mira.
“Cassandra.” Fleur’s tone was warm as she extended her hand. “I’m Fleur. I’m so pleased you ‘ave stopped by today.”
Cassie rose from the chair and shook Fleur’s hand. “Thank you for seeing me. I think some would think I’m getting a little ahead of myself since I’m not all that far along, but I wanted to make sure we had time to discuss what I’ll need and not have you be rushed to complete them.”
“Absolutment. I ‘ave two children myself, so I completely understand. Please, sit.” She folded herself into her own chair after Cassie had settled herself down again. Her appraising eyes took in the young woman, noting the way she held herself. “‘Ow far along are you? Three months, per’aps four at ze most?”
“Four and counting,” Cassie admitted, absently caressing her growing bump. “The healer says it’s not unusual for a first time mother to show a bit later. I feel like I’m huge already, though. It’s disconcerting.” She was sure Fleur would understand the difficulty in losing the firmness and shape she’d had pre-pregnancy, but Cassie didn’t want to sound completely vain.
Fleur waved her hand dismissively. “It is nothing. And you are ‘ardly ‘uge. But I assure you, je compris. It is ‘ard to lose your physique. Mais rest assured, being pregnant does not mean you must be unfashionable.” She gave the other woman a reassuring smile.
The words brought a bright smile to Cassie’s face. Her life had been something of a whirlwind the last year. It was nice to know that fun, pretty clothes were not another thing she’d have to change, compromise, or give up. “Wonderful. Where do we start, then?”
Pleased to get down to work, Fleur summoned her quill and several pieces of parchment. “Bien. What is your color palate? Do you prefer ze pastels? Jewel tones? What about florals? Prints?”
The younger woman thought a moment. Despite her eldest sister being a fashionista and her own love of clothes, Cassie hadn’t ever really given much thought to a particular style or color scheme she favored. Generally she simply bought whatever struck her. “I suppose I like bold colors best. Complementary patterns and textured layers. Honestly, I just like pretty things.”
The older blonde nodded. “That ees not a problem. The fashion for this spring and the summer are ‘eavy on the nautical theme. While that generally ees limited to dark blue and red and white, I ‘ave put my own twist on ze theme with bright turquoise and orange and pink. More feminine, non?”
She rose and crossed quickly to a small rack of clothing, pulling out a off the shoulder dress in nautical white and orange stripes. “This ees just an example, but what do you theenk? Ze ruched waistline allows for expansion as you are further along.”
Cassie rose and crossed to where Fleur stood, reaching to finger the fabric and examine the cut of the dress. It was fun, with fluttery sleeves and a skirt that was short but roomy enough for her burgeoning belly. “That’s really cute. I’m not sure about orange on me, but maybe a turquoise stripe? Or kelly green?” She glanced at the designer to see what she thought of the idea.
Fleur nodded in thought. “Oui, I can work with either color. Per’aps turquoise, to match your eyes?”
“Yes, I think that would be nice,” she agreed, idly fingering the clothes which hung on the rack beside her. “I’ll need some things that are appropriate for work too, and maybe one or two outfits to wear when I make Stephen take me out.” Cassie flashed a grin. She had no intention of being relegated to the homestead simply because she was pregnant.
Her heels muffled on the plush carpeting, Gabrielle’s entrance was not noticed by either Cassie or Fleur until she was practically upon them, lips curling in pleasure. She brushed a kiss over her sister’s cheek in greeting, then turned to Cassie.
“Cassandra?” she asked, holding out her hand to the other blonde. “I am Gabrielle. Eet ees nice to be meeting you.”
Cassie grinned and took the proffered hand. There was definitely a family resemblance between the Delacour sisters, and Mira was correct, Gabrielle was gorgeous. To be expected of a model, she supposed. “Gabrielle, it’s lovely to meet you.”
The tallest of the blondes smiled. “Mira ‘as said you are to be ‘aving un bebe? Are you ‘aving a boy or a girl?”
Running a hand over her still small bump, Cassie answered with a hint of pride, “We’re having a girl. My husband’s going to spoil her rotten, I think.” The rosy tint to her cheeks and the smile on her face proclaimed her pleasure. They were both still nervous, but Stephen was pretty excited about a baby girl. Merlin knew how much he loved his nieces. “He’s going to be a great dad.”
“My first was a girl as well.” Fleur’s blue eyes were bright at the look on the young woman’s face. She remembered the thrill of carrying her first pregnancy to term; the fear, the anticipation, everything. And it sounded as if Cassandra’s husband was a good sort of man. This couple would be alright. “She will be the first grandchild, or non?”
“She’ll be my parents’ first grandchild. Stephen’s parents have several already.” The elder Cornfoots weren’t likely to take too great an interest in their daughter regardless of the other grandchildren they had or didn’t have, but that was not something to be discussed casually. “My mother tries to act nonchalant, but she’s giddy at the prospect of being a grandmother.”
Fleur nodded knowingly. “Our mothers are always ‘appy at the idea of another bebe. And she will ‘ave ‘er cousins as well. I am ‘oping my children will ‘ave some sometime in the near future.
Gabrielle merely rolled her eyes and tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “You are ‘aving a large belle-famille. Zey can ‘ave ze first cousins for Claire and Tristian.”
Grinning at the interplay between the sisters, something she was quite familiar with, Cassie’s smile became teasing. “You don’t want children, Gabrielle? I imagine there are thousands of men ready for the opportunity to have a family with you.”
“Peut-être, but I am not theenking about les petites for many years.”
“She is just now seeing someone. I ‘ave yet to meet ‘im, but I ‘ave heard rumors of a petit ami in London.” Despite her [eight/nine] years on her younger sister, Fleur flashed a cheeky grin at the other Delacour. “I am still waiting.”
Gabrielle merely sniffed.
“Really?” the British blonde queried. “And what is the boyfriend like? Handsome, I assume. A businessman? Oil tycoon? Prince?” Mira wasn’t seeing anyone, hadn’t ever really seen anyone on a serious basis, so Cassie couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease the younger woman.
“Très beau. ‘E ees a... merde, comment dit-on?” Un avocat? Comme Papa.”
“A barrister,” her sister supplied helpfully.
“Oui. ‘E ees a barrister.” Her cheeks were tinged pink in slight embarrassment; even after a year in England, her English had only marginally improved.
“Very nice, and potentially useful. Well, for your sister’s sake, I hope you and your barrister beau fall madly in love and have a whole passel of kids.” Cassie winked.
“Passel?”
“Cela veut dire beacoup.”
Gabrielle’s nose crinkled, but her smile was warm. “Eet ees still early for zat sort of talk.” She and Neil had been seeing each other for over a year, it was true, but between their respective schedules, the amount of time they were able to spend together wasn’t as great as a year would suggest. He worked a lot, and she travelled. They made time when they could.
“Donc,” the blonde continued, changing subjects. “My sinfully ‘andsome boyfriend ees not why you are ‘ere, non? You are needing clothes, and my seester is ze perfect person to ‘elp.”
Giggling at Gabrielle’s obvious shifting of the topic - not that she was incorrect, Cassie was there for Fleur’s designs - she turned back to the shop’s proprietress and opened her arms wide. “She’s absolutely right. Please, most talented fashion maven, outfit me in your finest finery!”
“Allons-y,” Fleur said, extending her hands. “We ‘ave much to do.”
Summary: Cassie needs a maternity wardrobe, and who better to help than Fleur (with side commentary from Gabrielle)?
The Delacour workshop -- a multi-story warehouse on St. Anne’s Court -- was abuzz with employees: junior designers, models, shopgirls, and more, already hard at work on the fall collection. Since starting her line years ago, it had exploded. So much that Fleur had had to move her headquarters away from Diagon. Space in the wizarding center of London was limited and couldn’t accommodate her growing business.
So they’d moved. Soho was a lovely area of London; close to the best the city had to offer, but still far enough away that it was quiet. And best of all -- there was space. Several stories of it.
Her customary cup of coffee was absent as Fleur swept into the office suite with a smile and a bag of macaroons for Marie-Christine. “Bon matin, ma cher.”
“Bon matin, Fleur.” The brunette’s green eyes twinkled as she peeked in the bag, lips curling when she glanced back up at her old friend. “Qu’est-ce que l’occasion?”
“Dois-je une occasion?” Fleur’s lips twitched at her friend’s replying nose crinkle. “I ‘ave an appointment at ten... a Ms. Cassandra Cornfoot. You will let me know when she arrives, non?”
“Bien sûr.” Marie-Christine waved her hand as she pulled out a pistachio macaroon. “And later, you will be telling me why you are smiling so much this week.”
“I ‘ave no idea what you are talking about.” Smirking at her assistant, the blonde swept into her office and shut the door.
It was two past ten when Cassie came bustling into the building. She’d had an early meeting at the Ministry that ran long and it was only her years of experience running in heels that kept her from being discourteously late for her appointment. The fact that she was getting a bit of a bump slowed her a hair, but Cassie was still at the stage where people weren’t certain just by looking at her whether she was with child or she’d simply been eating too much casserole lately.
Looking to a pretty woman near the front, the blonde smiled. “Hello. I’m here to see Ms. Delacour-Weasley. I’m afraid I’m running a few minutes late.”
Sophia glanced up at the harried woman and gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s quite alright, Ms. Cornfoot. We’ve been expecting you. I’ll let Marie-Christine know you’ve arrived.” Pressing her wand to a small stone next to her appointment ledger, the blonde said, “Marie-Christine, Ms. Cornfoot is here.”
The stone spat out a response, and Sophia tucked her wand away. “She’ll be right down. Would you like anything to drink? Coffee, tea, Perrier?”
“No, thank you,” Cassie answered. Still a bit winded, she sat down on a plush chair near the entrance and waited for Marie-Christine.
It wasn’t long before the brunette entered the foyer, her heels clicking lightly on the floor. “Mrs. Cornfoot?” She extended her hand to the blonde. “I am Marie-Christine, Fleur’s personal assistant. How do you do?”
Hoisting herself out of the comfy chair, Cassie shook the woman’s hand. “Very well, thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Years of garden parties with her mother had served her well. “I appreciate you seeing me so quickly; I’ve been wearing my most forgiving dresses, but some clothes that actually fit will be a welcome change.”
“Bien sûr. Zat is why you ‘ave come to Fleur. She ees ze best.”
“Her clothes have always served me well in the past,” Cassie admitted.
Marie-Christine nodded and gestured for Cassie to follow her. “Eh bien. Please, follow me. Fleur ees expecting you.”
She led the taller woman through the entranceway and into the workshop proper where designers and tailors plying their craft, past stylists prepping models for test shots, and assistants scurrying about with coffee, notes, and anything that was demanded of them. It was hectic and fast-paced, but that was the way they worked.
The pair ascended a set of stairs towards the mezzanine overlook where Fleur’s office was located. Already, a set of chairs and a coffee table were set out for the meeting, a warm pot of Earl Grey perched between the seats.
“Eef you will ‘ave a seat, Fleur will be right out.”
“Thank you.” Cassie slipped into one of the available chairs and crossed one long leg over the other. It was not the first time she’d purchased Fleur Delacour-Weasley’s clothes - Stephen had been getting her knickers from here for quite some time - but this was the first time she’d be commissioning a wardrobe from the woman herself rather than simply buying off the rack. It was a little exciting.
Slipping out of her office, Fleur shut the door to her inner sanctum with a soft ‘click,’ lips curling when her blue gaze lighted on the young woman sitting in the meeting area. Gabrielle had mentioned Cassandra Cornfoot; even though her sister had never met the woman, she was a friend of her twin, Mira.
“Cassandra.” Fleur’s tone was warm as she extended her hand. “I’m Fleur. I’m so pleased you ‘ave stopped by today.”
Cassie rose from the chair and shook Fleur’s hand. “Thank you for seeing me. I think some would think I’m getting a little ahead of myself since I’m not all that far along, but I wanted to make sure we had time to discuss what I’ll need and not have you be rushed to complete them.”
“Absolutment. I ‘ave two children myself, so I completely understand. Please, sit.” She folded herself into her own chair after Cassie had settled herself down again. Her appraising eyes took in the young woman, noting the way she held herself. “‘Ow far along are you? Three months, per’aps four at ze most?”
“Four and counting,” Cassie admitted, absently caressing her growing bump. “The healer says it’s not unusual for a first time mother to show a bit later. I feel like I’m huge already, though. It’s disconcerting.” She was sure Fleur would understand the difficulty in losing the firmness and shape she’d had pre-pregnancy, but Cassie didn’t want to sound completely vain.
Fleur waved her hand dismissively. “It is nothing. And you are ‘ardly ‘uge. But I assure you, je compris. It is ‘ard to lose your physique. Mais rest assured, being pregnant does not mean you must be unfashionable.” She gave the other woman a reassuring smile.
The words brought a bright smile to Cassie’s face. Her life had been something of a whirlwind the last year. It was nice to know that fun, pretty clothes were not another thing she’d have to change, compromise, or give up. “Wonderful. Where do we start, then?”
Pleased to get down to work, Fleur summoned her quill and several pieces of parchment. “Bien. What is your color palate? Do you prefer ze pastels? Jewel tones? What about florals? Prints?”
The younger woman thought a moment. Despite her eldest sister being a fashionista and her own love of clothes, Cassie hadn’t ever really given much thought to a particular style or color scheme she favored. Generally she simply bought whatever struck her. “I suppose I like bold colors best. Complementary patterns and textured layers. Honestly, I just like pretty things.”
The older blonde nodded. “That ees not a problem. The fashion for this spring and the summer are ‘eavy on the nautical theme. While that generally ees limited to dark blue and red and white, I ‘ave put my own twist on ze theme with bright turquoise and orange and pink. More feminine, non?”
She rose and crossed quickly to a small rack of clothing, pulling out a off the shoulder dress in nautical white and orange stripes. “This ees just an example, but what do you theenk? Ze ruched waistline allows for expansion as you are further along.”
Cassie rose and crossed to where Fleur stood, reaching to finger the fabric and examine the cut of the dress. It was fun, with fluttery sleeves and a skirt that was short but roomy enough for her burgeoning belly. “That’s really cute. I’m not sure about orange on me, but maybe a turquoise stripe? Or kelly green?” She glanced at the designer to see what she thought of the idea.
Fleur nodded in thought. “Oui, I can work with either color. Per’aps turquoise, to match your eyes?”
“Yes, I think that would be nice,” she agreed, idly fingering the clothes which hung on the rack beside her. “I’ll need some things that are appropriate for work too, and maybe one or two outfits to wear when I make Stephen take me out.” Cassie flashed a grin. She had no intention of being relegated to the homestead simply because she was pregnant.
Her heels muffled on the plush carpeting, Gabrielle’s entrance was not noticed by either Cassie or Fleur until she was practically upon them, lips curling in pleasure. She brushed a kiss over her sister’s cheek in greeting, then turned to Cassie.
“Cassandra?” she asked, holding out her hand to the other blonde. “I am Gabrielle. Eet ees nice to be meeting you.”
Cassie grinned and took the proffered hand. There was definitely a family resemblance between the Delacour sisters, and Mira was correct, Gabrielle was gorgeous. To be expected of a model, she supposed. “Gabrielle, it’s lovely to meet you.”
The tallest of the blondes smiled. “Mira ‘as said you are to be ‘aving un bebe? Are you ‘aving a boy or a girl?”
Running a hand over her still small bump, Cassie answered with a hint of pride, “We’re having a girl. My husband’s going to spoil her rotten, I think.” The rosy tint to her cheeks and the smile on her face proclaimed her pleasure. They were both still nervous, but Stephen was pretty excited about a baby girl. Merlin knew how much he loved his nieces. “He’s going to be a great dad.”
“My first was a girl as well.” Fleur’s blue eyes were bright at the look on the young woman’s face. She remembered the thrill of carrying her first pregnancy to term; the fear, the anticipation, everything. And it sounded as if Cassandra’s husband was a good sort of man. This couple would be alright. “She will be the first grandchild, or non?”
“She’ll be my parents’ first grandchild. Stephen’s parents have several already.” The elder Cornfoots weren’t likely to take too great an interest in their daughter regardless of the other grandchildren they had or didn’t have, but that was not something to be discussed casually. “My mother tries to act nonchalant, but she’s giddy at the prospect of being a grandmother.”
Fleur nodded knowingly. “Our mothers are always ‘appy at the idea of another bebe. And she will ‘ave ‘er cousins as well. I am ‘oping my children will ‘ave some sometime in the near future.
Gabrielle merely rolled her eyes and tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “You are ‘aving a large belle-famille. Zey can ‘ave ze first cousins for Claire and Tristian.”
Grinning at the interplay between the sisters, something she was quite familiar with, Cassie’s smile became teasing. “You don’t want children, Gabrielle? I imagine there are thousands of men ready for the opportunity to have a family with you.”
“Peut-être, but I am not theenking about les petites for many years.”
“She is just now seeing someone. I ‘ave yet to meet ‘im, but I ‘ave heard rumors of a petit ami in London.” Despite her [eight/nine] years on her younger sister, Fleur flashed a cheeky grin at the other Delacour. “I am still waiting.”
Gabrielle merely sniffed.
“Really?” the British blonde queried. “And what is the boyfriend like? Handsome, I assume. A businessman? Oil tycoon? Prince?” Mira wasn’t seeing anyone, hadn’t ever really seen anyone on a serious basis, so Cassie couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease the younger woman.
“Très beau. ‘E ees a... merde, comment dit-on?” Un avocat? Comme Papa.”
“A barrister,” her sister supplied helpfully.
“Oui. ‘E ees a barrister.” Her cheeks were tinged pink in slight embarrassment; even after a year in England, her English had only marginally improved.
“Very nice, and potentially useful. Well, for your sister’s sake, I hope you and your barrister beau fall madly in love and have a whole passel of kids.” Cassie winked.
“Passel?”
“Cela veut dire beacoup.”
Gabrielle’s nose crinkled, but her smile was warm. “Eet ees still early for zat sort of talk.” She and Neil had been seeing each other for over a year, it was true, but between their respective schedules, the amount of time they were able to spend together wasn’t as great as a year would suggest. He worked a lot, and she travelled. They made time when they could.
“Donc,” the blonde continued, changing subjects. “My sinfully ‘andsome boyfriend ees not why you are ‘ere, non? You are needing clothes, and my seester is ze perfect person to ‘elp.”
Giggling at Gabrielle’s obvious shifting of the topic - not that she was incorrect, Cassie was there for Fleur’s designs - she turned back to the shop’s proprietress and opened her arms wide. “She’s absolutely right. Please, most talented fashion maven, outfit me in your finest finery!”
“Allons-y,” Fleur said, extending her hands. “We ‘ave much to do.”
Summary: Cassie needs a maternity wardrobe, and who better to help than Fleur (with side commentary from Gabrielle)?