Category: Pink Sheep RPG
Crisis averted with the Grecian statue, Astoria found her pulse was beating at a much more comfortable pace now. The Cosmo she'd acquired was helping things rather nicely as well, and the sweetness was savored.
Dark eyes cast about the growing crowd, to the dancers, and her expression warmed when she saw one of her compatriots in the planning of the gala. Even with the masque, Pansy Parkinson was entirely obvious in her snug black dress, dark hair tumbling down her back.
"We've sold several of the Ministry's donations so far," she announced in greeting, brown eyes twinkling behind her mask as she looked up at her friend. "Thanks to your exquisite taste in selection of the pieces."
"Not at all," Pansy replied flippantly, giving her petite friend a small, warm smile. "The combination of excellent food, superb champagne and an inviting atmosphere does tend to loosen the coin purse a bit, wouldn't you agree?"
"I would, and to a worthy cause," she added, dark eyes scanning the crowd again. Everyone who was anyone was there. Everything was exquisitely done from the decorations to the art displayed to the food, drink and music selections. They were all there to raise funds and awareness of domestic violence, however, and the first hand stories scattered in
black and white throughout the gallery were both touching and startling in their
honesty and horror.
"Now, my dear Astoria, to the important business of the evening: I do have a query for you," Pansy said, turning her full attention down to her friend, her dark brown eyes alight with curiosity and amusement. "What's this I hear about a half-clothed dance at a burlesque house this past month?"
Delicately tapered fingers reached up to slide her
kitten mask back down over her eyes, though it did not hide the small smirk curling her lips. "Depends on whom you may have heard it from."
One slender brow rose. "Never mind that, Miss Greengrass. Details are needed. Now."
"Mmm, since you've asked so nicely," she murmured, lips twitching. Astoria slipped her arm into Pansy's and they slipped seamlessly into the crowd. "I may have indulged in a favorite pastime," she admitted, thoughts going back to that night. It'd been nice to just let loose and not worry, but people had seen and Pansy was proof that it would get around. She found she didn't care about it as much as she might have once. Perhaps she was growing up.
"A Mr. Vaisey baited me," she added, still not quite willing to take it all upon herself.
"Oh, he did? The same Mr. Vaisey who happens to be our former housemate and owner of said burlesque house?" Pansy murmured, her voice amused as the pair wandered about the ballroom.
"The same. Michael and I have both made investments with him before, though I must admit when I visited Pandora's Box, I wasn't aware it was his." She glanced over at her closest snake friend. "A fact he illuminated for me."
"Illuminated? Is that what the children are calling it these days?" Pansy teased, eyes alight with mischief as she looked down at the petite woman.
"Something like that," she replied dryly. "He's not done more than speak to me and I find myself unsettled around him. He's not what I'm looking for these days though, despite my dip into the past." And it was true. She couldn't read Julian, but from what she knew of him he was quite the lady's man. Mystery and an oft indulged fondness for women ... it was alluring, but she was trying to stay away these days.
"The fun ones hardly are, darling," the older woman commented. She herself hadn't indulged in a 'girl's night' in over four years, since Astoria and Romilda had last visited her in France, yet she sometimes longed for those days. Normalcy had seem so within grasp then, when she'd been abroad. "And I believe you find yourself unsettled because you're attracted to him."
"Of course. He's an attractive man," Astoria said, irritation at the whole situation sparking just beneath the surface. The problem was she hadn't a clue what he wanted. She knew his type, knew his reputation, but thus far he hadn't made it clear what, exactly, it was he wanted. If it was just something physical, she might have been more inclined to think on it, but it'd passed beyond that point and she didn't want emotional entanglements with a man who she was sure would hurt her if his reputation had anything to say of him. "It's just that I don't trust him a whit and haven't a bloody clue what he wants of me."
"What does it matter what he wants of you? What do you want of him?" Covering Astoria's hand with hers lightly, she stopped her friend and turned her dark eyes down to her. "If there's one thing I've learned since my... sojourn after school, it's that you shouldn't wait and see what a man wants with you. Don't let him use you. Use him."
It's what had happened to her. She was where she was, and there was so little left for anything like Romy had because of exactly what Pansy had said. Use. She'd been used. Over and over and over. She didn't want to do that anymore, didn't want to make someone else feel like that.
A tiny sigh slipped her lips then and she shook her head slightly. "I don't know what I want of him, so there's nothing to think of using at this point anyways."
In an unusual public display of emotion, Pansy wrapped her free arm around the younger woman's shoulders and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. "If he gets to be too much, you can always hex him. Even if it doesn't solve anything, it will make you feel better."
Astoria's lips twitched up then and she slipped her arm around Pansy's waist, squeezing gently. Her Slytherin friend hadn't ever been as prone to physical affection as herself and Romy; it made this moment in front of an entire crowd all the more, made her glad she had friends like she did. "There is that. A little retribution always did go a long way. At least for one's sense of well-being, hmm?"
"Sometimes, retribution is the only avenue which keeps us sane," Pansy replied with a small smirk. She knew only too well how sweet retribution could be, although in a much darker, soul-depleting way than her young friend.
"And then there's shoes," Astoria said, leaning up to press a quick kiss to Pansy's cheek. She knew her friend had been through much darker things than herself, things she didn't talk about. "Louboutins in particular. I've always found them very therapeutic."
"Louboutins are therapeutic," Pansy hummed in agreement, her lips curling at the thought of such beautiful pieces of art adorning her feet. "Perhaps not to the untrained, but to us, my dear, they are of utmost importance."
"Mmm. That they are."
*~*~*~*~*
"Anthony, you came." Parvati pulled her boss into a light hug, kissing both of his cheeks. Stepping back, she dusted a piece of lint off of his collar.
The healer laughed, covering her hand with his, pushing it down lightly. "Of course. You'd kill me if I didn't. And who am I to pass up free food?" He lifted an eyebrow as he plucked a hors d'oeuvre from a passing server's plate, popping it into his mouth.
"And Padma," her sister prompted with a slight frown.
"And Padma, of course." He gave he a grin that didn't reach his eyes. That particular mess confounded him more than he had wanted to admit. His friend had been carrying so much hurt with her, but obviously hadn't wanted the load to be lightened. Then again, he could have been wrong. If she hadn't been willing to let go of her hurt, this whole event would never have been put on and no one would have benefited from her story.
"Anthony!" Parvati snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Come back to earth."
He blinked at her. "Sorry. You were saying?"
She rolled her eyes. "It's not important. Go on, enjoy yourself. I'll see you soon." Patting his shoulder, she moved away and into the crowd.
Anthony nodded, though she was no longer in front of him. He'd speak to Padma soon, he promised himself. That is, if she didn't approach him first.
*~*~*~*~*
As he perused the room, keen green eyes taking note of the event's attendees, Julian's gaze lit on a tall, statuesque brunette off by herself on a corner of the dance floor. His lips curled into a smirk and, after adjusting his
mask, he took two champagne flutes off a nearby waiter and made his way over.
"Now, what could possibly have you so agitated this fine evening, Reilly?" he asked, his voice low and smooth. He presented her with one of the champagne flutes, taking her free hand and brushing a kiss over the back.
"What makes you think I'm agitated, Julian?" she asked in response, having no trouble recognizing her friend despite his devil mask. Or possibly because it fit him so well. "Am I so transparent that you can read me beneath my
disguise?"
"Let us just say that you've never been as closed to me as you are to others," he replied with a small, knowing smirk. "You still have not been satisfied by your paramour?"
Her expression was wry as she acknowledged the truth of his statement regarding their relationship. His assumption about the man who plagued her was not quite right, though. "To call him my paramour is to overstate it a bit. Therein lies the dissatisfaction."
"An itch that needs to be scratched?" he mused.
"A weed in my garden which has roots yet to be grasped and yanked from the earth." As soon as she found those roots, they would be pulled with ruthless efficiency.
Julian's brow rose at her vehemence. "Your little weed seems to have struck a nerve," he commented, taking a sip of his champagne.
A soft hmm was the only reply. Sipping at the bubbly beverage Julian had supplied, Reilly tried to release the stress she'd been feeling. It was not good that she was spilling her emotions so visibly. It was true that Julian knew her well, but Reilly prided herself on her control - something Blake Dunstan, even the mere thought of him, seemed to tear down with ease.
"And you, Julian? How is your garden?"
"It is as it ever is," he mused, glancing over at his occasional lover. "Although I do admit that it would be even more were you to return to me." He missed her fiery temperament in his bed, her manicured nails raking down his back when he made her scream.
Reilly studied him for a long moment, pondering the idea. Julian was a good match, a passion to match her own. His was driven in life, much like Reilly herself, and that transferred to their romantic interactions. Were she to manage her personal life the way she did her business life, Julian would be the partner she'd choose. Paired, they might very well take over the world.
That was not the way she ran her heart, though, and nor was it the question at hand.
"I fear you would find me a pale version of myself at this juncture, Julian, and I loathe the idea of being a disappointment."
Julian gave Reilly a little bow of his head. "Very well, then. If I cannot convince you to share my bed, perhaps you'll acquiesce to a dance?"
"That invitation I would be pleased to accept," she said, a smile gracing her face for the first time since they'd begun to chat. Laying a hand on his arm, Reilly continued, "Remind me what I've been missing."
*~*~*~*~*
Padma sighed as another reporter left, her questions about the evening and Padma's personal story answered. She'd barely had time to even enjoy the music and all of Astoria's hard work. She was so used to being behind the scenes that it was strange to be thrust into the spotlight.
A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne flutes, and Padma took one. She took a sip, letting the bubbly liquid pass down her throat with barely a passing thought.
"Well, if it isn't the woman of the hour," Penelope exulted as she approached her friend. Settling by Padma's side, the barrister gestured with her drink at the flock of reporters. "I saw the vultures finish picking at you and thought you may need a shoulder to cry on. Alright?"
"I'm alright," she said softly, giving Penny a smile behind her golden mask. "I guess I didn't think about the near-constant questions when I first decided to do this."
"You're doing fine," she assured. "The press likes you and its for a good cause. You did a good thing."
"I know," the Indian woman replied softly. "So, are you enjoying yourself?"
Penelope half-shrugged, "You know me, I'd much rather be in the office but Dean and Lilah tell me that human interaction is indeed necessary for a fulfilling life." She reached up to adjust her slipping mask. "I adore the dress code though."
"Ah yes, the office is where we do tend to habituate," Padma commented with a small laugh. "But here, we at least get to wear fashionable dresses and pretend to be someone else for a night. Well, at least some of us do."
"Just tell the undesirables that you're the other twin."
"That might work tonight as she left Kiran with an aunt, but that normally wouldn't fly," Padma replied, "but nice try."
"Helpfulness is just my way," Penelope joked between sips of bubbly. She then wondered aloud, "Have you ever switched? I'd think that at Hogwarts it would have been more trouble than it was worth."
Padma shook her head. "No, we never switched. Even though we were identical, our mannerisms were different enough that our good friends would've been able to tell."
"Mm, probably for the best," Penelope replied with a grin, "for me anyway. I can just imagine my life as a prefect if you two were a hair more Weasley-esque. Its terrifying."
"Just because we didn't switch places doesn't mean we were completely innocent," Padma mused, her lips curling in a small, mischievous smirk.
"Who ever is?" After setting her empty glass on a waiter's tray, Penelope continued, "But someone had to be the responsible one in that flock and you fit the bill nicely, Prefect Padma."
"Yes, it was hard to pass the bong up in the prefect's bathroom, but I tried to rise to the occasion," she joked.
Penelope laughed. "If only others had had the same strength." Shifting to look straight at the younger woman, Penelope confided, "I suppose what I'm trying to say is that you're one of my favorites."
For someone who was used to being overlooked in favor of her extroverted and intriguing friends, Penny's words brought a small smile to Padma's lips. "Thanks, Pen."
"Any time, dear." The (slightly) older woman returned the smile and gave her a friendly pat on the arm.
Padma took a sip of her champagne before she covered Penny's hand with her own. "Go dance with someone handsome. Enjoy being out of your office for the evening, alright?"
"I think," Penelope considered with a grin, already eying a likely prospect, "that I can do that." With a last friendly squeeze of hands, Penelope released Padma and headed in to the crowd. Turning a bit, she called behind her, "Remember to take your own advice!"
*~*~*~*~*
Over the heads of the gala attendees, Stephen spotted a familiar bloke, ambling over by the bar. Stewart, from what he could tell from so far away, looked bored. And that just wouldn't do.
"Cassie, love, would you like to meet another friend of mine?" he asked, blue eyes sparkling behind his mask.
"Did you shag this one, too?" Cassie asked warily, brow raised in question. "I'm limiting my introductions to one former lover per evening."
Stephen gagged, he couldn't help himself. "No, I most definitely did not shag Ackers. And I might need a memory charm to rid myself of the suggestion."
"Ackers? Stewart Ackerly?" The memory of the second time she and Stephen enjoyed each other's company came to mind, along with the Appleby Keeper who'd arrived just as she was taking her leave. "I believe we've met. In passing. If you'd like to say hello, I'm not opposed."
A snicker slipped from Stephen's lips as he too recalled Cassie's 'passing' brush with his former teammate. "Well, you weren't introduced to one another and besides, you weren't my girlfriend then." And he wanted to shout the fact to the world; this beautiful, fiery, tempestuous woman was his.
Her smile widened automatically at Stephen's words. He was proud to have her on his arm, and the knowledge calmed her nerves a bit. "I suppose a proper introduction is called for, then. Wouldn't want him to think the girl he nearly saw shagging his mate was lacking in manners."
Stephen laughed and pressed a kiss into her hair. "That's my girl," he murmured, twining his fingers through hers as he led the two of them through the crowd towards his old friend.
"Ackers," he said upon greeting, giving the other man a small nod. "How are the singed brows, mate?"
"Perfectly intact, actually. And better than the caterpillars you cart around on your face." He raised his glass in the other man's direction.
"Sounds like someone's a pansy, then," Stephen commented before he turned to smile at his girlfriend. "Ackers, this is my girlfriend, Cassandra Montgomery. Cassie, this ponce is Stewart Ackerly."
Cassie extended her hand, shaking her head at the male bonding. "I'm afraid I left my ruler at home this evening, so I won't be able to judge the manliest man competition, but it's very nice to meet you, Stewart."
He shook the offered hand. "Despite your terrible judgment," he nodded at Stephen, "I'd have to say the same."
"Jealousy kills, mate," Stephen replied smoothly, wrapping one arm around Cassie's waist once she'd released Stewart's hand.
"And yet you survive. Well done, you."
"I do survive because I've the most beautiful woman in the room on my arm tonight," he said, smirking down at his girlfriend.
"Eye of the beholder and all that, but I suppose it's only gracious to accept the title if it's being offered," Cassie said, giving her boyfriend a wink.
"Cornfoot's never had to learn how to take compliments," Stewart joked with a wink, feeling wholly unnecessary to their gathering.
"At least I've yet to accuse a woman of two-timing me with her brother," Stephen shot back with a smirk.
Stewart turned back to Stephen's Cassie. "See, now he ridicules me to make himself look better in comparison. Don't fall for his cheap ploys, please."
Snickering, Cassie leaned toward Stewart and stage whispered, "What he doesn't mention is that I only have sisters. The opportunity for such a mistake is not nearly as high for Stephen."
"You generously underestimate his ability to create a major cock up." He clapped his mate on the shoulder. "I think she likes you."
"I think she does, too."
*~*~*~*~*
Astoria paused, her glass halfway to her lips. Dark eyes watched Reilly begin to weave towards them and she lowered her glass again.
As close as her brother and Ms. Chambers were, Astoria had never had the opportunity to get particularly close to the other woman like she had some of Michael's other women friends. Reilly was a distant sort, much like many of her old housemates, and somewhat intimidating besides. Not that she’d ever exerted anything of the sort on Astoria herself, but Reilly Chambers wasn’t a woman who could hide such completely.
She was an alpha bitch and regardless of how masked she often made herself, quite literally tonight, even, it could not be ignored, especially by someone like herself. Astoria had done well in Slytherin, particularly because she knew people; she knew who was powerful and who wasn’t, and how to approach them to the best benefit. She knew what Reilly was.
It still didn’t completely quell the curious irritation she had since seeing the woman and Julian Vaisey have an intimate conversation across the room. Why she should be aware of where the man was, she wasn’t sure and that was already frustrating, but to be irritated on top of that to see him so intimate with Michael's friend - and other women - was even worse. She knew what he was. It was why she had ignored the slight attraction from the beginning.
Such things made no difference to what was there though, and she had slipped somewhat when she’d let him bait her into her little performance at Pandora’s Box besides.
Huffing slightly at herself, Astoria finished the action she’d begun in the first place. The champagne flute empty, she placed in on a passing attendant’s tray and looked up at her brother. “Ms. Chambers is about to join us.”
Michael had sensed the tumultuous emotions from his sister, but there was so much that could be attributing to the fact that he wasn’t able to pin point why unless he peeked into her mind. Being that she was at his side and quite safe, there was no reason to do such. He’d tried to smell out what was wrong too, but with so many people about, he’d found it was best not to, not after his eyes had glowed briefly from the wolf’s interest in so many succulent flavors scampering about. It usually wasn’t a hardship to not think on it, but they were only a few days away from the full moon and despite the control he did have, being in a sea of what his wolf would think was food didn’t help.
His eyes scanned about until he saw the masked woman Astoria had spotted heading towards them. Despite the covering on her face, there was no mistaking Reilly from the crowd about her; they moved out of her way unconsciously and though she was only slightly taller than normal for a woman, she walked tall and seemed to tower above the other flowers around her.
His teeth flashed in a grin as she came upon them. “You look beautiful.”
Reilly nearly sighed in relief as she entered Michael's sphere. She'd missed her one true friend and the cloak of calm he carried with him. Returning his smile, she brushed a kiss to his cheek in greeting. She had the impulse to hug him, something unusual even when they were alone and certainly not the way she ever behaved in public. The stress of the past few months had worn on her, though, and it was more effort than Reilly cared to admit to refrain
"Thank you, Michael. You're looking especially handsome tonight yourself," she returned before addressing the petite brunette at his side. "Your gallery is nearly as lovely as you, Astoria. Another flawless event."
"I do try," Astoria nodded, dark eyes watching the taller woman avidly. It was more out of curiosity than anything, despite the slick of something resembling jealousy several minutes earlier. "I'm glad you think so, though. There are a fair few that worked with me to put it all together and I shall let them know their work was approved by a very exacting eye," she added, a tiny curve of lips lighting her features.
Reilly returned the smile with a genuine, if small, one of her own. "You flatter me."
Michael bent to press a kiss to his sister's hair. He was proud of her, and he had a thought he should tell her more often. Just then was not the time though and he lifted his gaze back to Reilly, flashing another grin before he leaned over to press a kiss to her cheek, one hand sliding to the base of her spine.
She was very good at covering her emotions, but the moment he touched her Michael could tell she was tense, moreso than normal even.
"I've been completely remiss as your music producer of late, and even worse as your friend. Do you suppose I might be able to beg a spot on the Couch of Inertia in the near future?" Reilly queried, leaning lightly against Michael's side as she peered up at him with a smile.
She needed time away from the office and the comfortable quiet of Michael's company. She flattered herself that he needed hers, too. Whether that was precisely true or not didn't matter, he'd never disillusion her in any case.
Astoria eyed the two and made a quiet exit. Her presence would not be missed and she was not hurt. She needed to make another round of the gallery to make sure all was in order anyways.
Michael caught his sister's leave, and then her eye, with a nod of his head and then put his attention to the woman who was pressed against his side. Reilly rarely sought physical comfort, and though it would not seem so to anyone looking, that's exactly what this was for her. His sense of smell was off here with so many about, but his wolf paced inside him, agitated that someone they considered theirs was not well.
"You're always welcome," he said, blue eyes meeting hers levelly. His hand slid around to her waist then and he pulled her closer, as much of a hug as she would want to be seen in view of the public. There were questions to ask, things to be discussed, he could tell, but not here. "I've a business venture you'll probably want to hear about in any case," he added, lips twitching.
Though she made no move to leave the solace of Michael's touch, Reilly's brows rose in interest. Her friend had always dabbled in investments here and there, but this year had seen him become much more active in business and his music. The change pleased her. For while Michael was certainly not in need of money, it was nice to see him interested and participating in life rather than just watching it pass with an amused eye.
"One you're quite satisfied with from the looks of it. What sort of business venture? Are you finally coming to work for me?" she asked with a grin that might have been called cheeky.
"Would you actually let me take someone out?" he asked, bright blue eyes picking up a twinkle.
"I'm sure you get off your sofa to take a lady out every once in a blue moon," Reilly said with a shrug. "I may as well make a little money off those stunning cheekbones." It was a bald-faced lie, and Michael knew that. Reilly didn't share her friend with anyone of her own accord.
"Well, you just let me know when I can put them to proper use," he said, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek before taking a sip of his scotch on the rocks. "And I'll let you in on my venture when that time comes," he added, lips twitching as he met her gaze again. They both knew the circumstances would never be ripe for such a thing to happen and Michael's lips curled more, teeth showing in his grin.
Resting her arm across Michael's lower back, she allowed herself a moment to just be grateful for this man of few words and the unconditional friendship he offered. "Tease."
"Something like that," he acknowledged. Sliding his empty glass on a tray passing by, Michael turned his bright blue gaze to the woman even his wolf considered something of an equal. "Dance?"
"I was hoping you'd suggest that," she replied, letting him lead her to the floor.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Wandering about the ballroom with a glass of champagne in her hand, Katie smiled as her gaze lit upon her absent-minded pseudo brother. Anthony was, predictably, hovering about one of the tables of food like it was going out of style. Even though his face was partially obscured by his mask, she'd recognize his head of hair anywhere.
"Well well, I see someone does know that his practice has not only an entrance, but an exit," she commented jokingly, plucking a canape from his plate and popping it into her mouth.
"You have my receptionist to thank for that. And the food." He nodded in the direction he had last the woman flutter about. She seemed oddly at home at this and was wondering whether he'd need to find a new receptionist soon. "Enjoying yourself, Kates?"
"For the most part, I am," she said, taking a sip of her champagne. "And you?"
He shrugged, moving away from the table, offering his hand to her as he went. "Haven't been here long enough to know one way or the other."
"I have to say, I'm surprised you're here," Katie commented, placing her gloved hand lightly in his. "This isn't exactly your type of social gathering."
"It isn't. At all," Anthony confessed. "But you have to admit, I look good in a suit."
She snickered. "Yes, did the idea of you as more than a pseudo brother not make my stomach ill, my heart would be all a-flutter at the very picture you paint."
He smirked. "And if you were any other woman, I'd accuse you of making cow eyes at Stewart Ackerly." He gazed around for the tall Quidditch player. "I may not have been here long, but I did see how you looked at him."
Katie gasped and elbowed Anthony sharply in the ribs. "And if you were any other person, I'd have hexed your bollocks off for the mere suggestion of me making cow eyes at anyone."
He laughed even when he was rubbing his side. "But you don't deny it, Kates. You don't deny it."
"I was not making cow eyes, or any other sorts of eyes, at Stewart Ackerly," she said, glaring at him behind her dainty mask.
"Aww, don't look at me like that." He pouted at her. "I'm cute and loveable, remember?"
"No, right now you're bloody annoying," she pointed out, raising a brow at him. "In fact," she reached out and turned him around, "I think you should go dance."
Dark brown eyes searched the ballroom, finally lighting on a familiar pale blonde who was moving through the room. "Go dance with Lavender. Do you know Lavender? I don't care if you do; go introduce yourself and dance with her. Just leave me alone."
He stuck her tongue out her. "Spoilsport. No, I don't know Lavender. And my I remind you, you came and bothered me first."
"Well, go introduce yourself. Some of her work is on display, so tell her how talented she is, how pretty she looks, then ask her to dance."
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you conspired with my mum." Anthony took a moment to thought. "You didn't, did you?"
Katie rolled her eyes. "I have more important things to worry about than your lack of a social life. Now shoo."
Now it was Anthony's turn to roll his eyes as he ambled away. She might have won this round, but Anthony could be loads more annoying if he put his mind to it. Spotting the blonde his sister had pointed out, he moved towards her. "Lavender?" he asked, holding out a hand. "My name's Anthony Goldstein. My sister-in-law told me to come over and introduce myself."
Lavender grinned and took his hand. "I remember you from Hogwarts. You haven't changed a bit." Still tall and lanky and adorable.
Finally the words Hogwarts and Lavender connected and Anthony was very glad he hadn't asked for her full name and embarrassed himself. "I have, a bit. Your best friend is now making sure I eat at least two real meals a day."
"Oh, so you're the healer Vati's working for now. She feeds everyone, by the way. I think it's a compulsion or something." Every time she saw her, the Indian woman was trying to shove food down her throat.
"Comes with being a mother," Anthony shrugged. "Mine's the same way. I'm always too thin for her tastes."
Her own mum never said anything about her weight. Neither did her dad. It made Lavender wonder. "I suppose. So what brings you here tonight? Are you just a great fan of the arts?" she asked.
"Besides Parvati's food?" Despite his commiseration about people always trying to feed him, Anthony did enjoy eating. "It's Padma's event. Birds of a feather and so on and so forth." Even though the two former prefects had reached an odd state of not-speaking, he wouldn't have missed this for the world. If he had, not only would Parvati be liable to poison him, Mandy would track him down and demand an explanation. This was easier all around.
"Ah, yes. You claws were always insular in school. Have you said hello to the woman of the hour yet?"
"Mmm." Anthony shrugged. "Not yet, but she's always been surrounded. I'll get there, eventually."
Lavender accepted the answer with a smile and a nod. "So, have you seen anything you like yet?"
"Depends," he returned with his own nod and smile, "on what you are referring to. Food? Paintings? Or," there was a mischievous gleam in his eye, "women?"
She blinked. "Well, I was referring to paintings, but now I'm curious about the other two as well."
"I'm afraid I don't have a head for art or any type of antique thing, much to my parents' dismay. Fine art conservators, the both of them," he explained. "And I'm partial to most types of food. Especially if I didn't have to cook it as it'd end up inedible anyway. As for women, well, that's someting to be researched for one's self."
"You don't have to have a head for art to know whether or not you like it. There must be at least one painting in here that's managed to catch your attention." Because art spoke to everyone, whether they realized it or not. "And I do know what you mean about having to cook." She'd been evicted once for trying to cook and nearly burning down the building.
Anthony shrugged. "Then I suppose I was not looking. Horrible of me, I know. To be in an art gallery and not look at the art."
"It all depends on what you were looking at instead of the art," she replied, eyes twinkling merrily.
"To be frank, it was the food mainly. You see, my receptionist and main source of food has been absent for at least the past week. If she heard my stomach growl she'd know I'd not been eating, and I'm afraid she'd come after me with a wooden spoon."
"In this case the food is practically art, so you're safe. And she probably would have." Her bestie had turned into the mother of the century; stuffing food down people's throats right and left and being all nurturing. "Watch out if she ever does, they leave a pretty wicked welt."
Anthony threw back his head and laughed. "Been on the receiving end, I see."
"Mmm, I got sassy with her, and she'd didn't like it." Mostly it had been about not being able to finish the enormous portions her friend thought necessary to shovel into her.
He nodded somberly. "So don't get sassy. Anything else I should know about my receptionist that only her best friend can answer?"
"Well, she's a Scorpio," Lavender commented lightly.
"Oh that's right, her birthday was recently, wasn't it?" Anthony nodded. That was when the tall bloke had come and left her shaken. Parvati had assured him that she was fine, but he wasn't so sure. Anthony didn't like it when people bothered his things.
"Yes, it was the eleventh." She wasn't really sure what to do with her friend anymore, and the whole birthday thing illustrated that. If Parvati wasn't super mummy, Lavender would have taken her out to do something, but she'd not been able to find a sitter for Kiran, so they stayed in. "Let's see, what else? She has a mean right hook."
"Really?" Anthony blinked. "I would not have pegged her. What about you? Are you more of the hit first or hex first ask questions later sort?"
Only when she was drunk, but he didn't need to know that. "I don't get into a lot of fights, so I'm not exactly sure."
"That's just as well. I'd hate to see such a pretty face as yours bruised so."
"It would be a pity, wouldn't it?" she asked with a little smile.
Anthony plucked two flutes of champagne off a passing tray, handing one off to the waif-like blonde. "It would."