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A Governess for Leo Lupin.
The most pitied woman in all of Britain. Possibly all the world. He's awful.
"I'll bleed wherever I damn well please!" She shouted, scowling at him. As if to prove it, she uncovered her nose and shook her head back and forth like a dog attempting to dry its fur of water. Little droplets of blood rained on the sidewalk all willy-nilly. Billie Farrow in A Good Dusting
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You're Next, Aren't You?
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June 9th, 1890 — The Lestrange & Pendergast wedding reception

It wasn't that Seneca disliked her cousin Ellory, she simply thought that she wasn't the best choice as her brother Claude's wife. As his sister, Seneca believed that she knew Claude better than most and it was her belief that a more... intellectual woman would suit him better. Ellory was always far too... excited. She was loud and talked a lot and Seneca found her tiresome at times. She was sure that Claude would do too. Her poor brother would try to read a book and Ellory would probably pester him to play Exploding Snap with her!

She was standing on the sidelines of the dance floor, with a champagne glass in hand, when someone approached her with a comment: "You're next, aren't you, Miss Lestrange?"

Seneca's eyebrows furrowed, then it dawned on her. "Oh, you are mistaking me for my sister. I am Miss Seneca Lestrange!" She didn't even look like Cornelia!

Open to anyone invited at the reception!
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   Tatiana Lestrange

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Yeah, Art for sure should not have come here.

There was a morbid sort of curiosity that brought him to Lestrange events: he wanted to see the life he could have had, had he made different choices. So far, his current life was winning out over this, but it was too early for Arthur to make an exit -- now that he was here, he could not be rude about leaving.

Again, for sure a mistake,

Talking to Lucius' daughters: also a sure mistake. But Arthur had been nearly too close to not talk to her, and he was nervous - so nervous that he blurted out the first thing that came to mind; the wedding he was not invited to, later in the month. (That lack of an invitation was probably, definitely, for the best.)

He really had thought the blonde girl to be Cornelia; it had been years since the last time Arthur had been at a family event, and he had not known the difference between the girls then, either.

"My apologies, Miss Lestrange," he said.

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   Tatiana Lestrange
Seneca took a better look at the man who had mistaken her for Cornelia and she recognized him as Arthur Pettigrew. Huh. Was he still getting invited to family events? One would think that marrying a half-blood, who had been a Quidditch player no less, would be the final straw of his disownment. Perhaps Claude had invited him out of pity, Seneca mused. He and Arthur Pettigrew must have played together as children, after all.

"Thank Merlin my father didn't hear you, he would be very displeased" Seneca teased the older man. She smirked. "He might have had you kicked out."

It wasn't very polite to speak to one of the guests in such a manner, but this was Arthur Pettigrew. Nobody in the family had much respect for him. In a family such as theirs, even the murderous Tybalt was more highly esteemed than Arthur Pettigrew was.

"Are you enjoying the wedding, cousin Arthur?" Seneca asked the man, to ease out any awkwardness that her previous statement might have caused. "The food?" Yes, Seneca was implying that Arthur Pettigrew was so destitute, that he was probably sneaking away finger food to feed his half-blooded children.

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Arthur huffed a laugh at the girl; he'd heard countless comments like this before, and the words of Lucius Lestrange's teenager rolled his back like water on a duck's feathers. She was nothing compared to her father, and if he was going to let little barbs bother him - well, then he sure as fuck would not have come here.

"Cousin Evelyn is an excellent hostess," Art said blandly. He leaned back on his heels, as if he could spot her in the crowd, but could not. He was only a few years older than Evelyn, although he had always been much more interested in Regan; Art was far more familiar with the elder generation of Lestranges than the younger.

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mj made me pretty
Seneca wasn't sure what sort of reaction she had been expecting from Arthur Pettigrew, but laughter wasn't it. She had hoped to make him at least somewhat upset. At least he hadn't gotten angry and lectured her about her behaviour.

"Mmm, indeed she is," Seneca agreed. "She could have been your wife, in another life." Seneca smirked a bit. "Do you ever think, cousin, of what life might have been? On a philosophical level?"

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Was the smirk genetic? Arthur thought the smirk might be genetic.

"No," Arthur said; he used the same bored tone. "I'm not very interested in alternative histories."

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mj made me pretty
"I suppose it is for the best," Seneca commented innocently. "Sometimes it can crush our soul, to think of what might have been." If Seneca was Arthur Pettigrew, she wouldn't be able to hold the weight of everything she had lost. Then again, if she had been Arthur Pettigrew, she would now be in a good Ministry position, married to Cousin Rosalind, maybe.

"Do you have any advice to give me, about life?" Seneca asked in a serious tone, though she intended to troll her cousin with that question, because what good advice could Arthur Pettigrew possibly give her?

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Art was startled into a bark of laughter by her question. "You don't want my advice," he said simply.

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mj made me pretty
At least he was self-aware? It was getting under her skin, how difficult it was to get under his. It wasn't fun to try and be disrespectful towards her failure cousin if he wasn't getting offended.

Seneca was getting bored.

"Fair enough," she said in a bored tone. She then remained silent and started looking around the room, hoping that her cousin would get the memo and excuse himself.

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Arthur had largely lost interest in this; he could find other relatives to uncomfortably interact with. Without really saying anything, he faded away.

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mj made me pretty

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