April 5th, 1890 — Ehcnanted Brunch

Cousin Ellory could play lawn games all day. No wonder she was so close to Cash, she would probably be a sportsman too, if she had been born male. Seneca, on the other hand, didn't care much for sports, unless dueling counted as one.

She wandered off from the lawn games area and found Holly Scrimgeour lingering in the sidelines. She and Seneca hadn't really spoken since their last 'fight', nonetheless, Seneca was somewhat glad to see her. Their relationship was rocky like that, seeing that they were both ambitious and headstrong, with a 'my way or the highway' mentality.

"How come you're not hunting eggs with the other children, Miss Holly?" Seneca asked in a half teasing tone. It really wasn't the best thing to say to someone she had had a fight with, but she couldn't help it.

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Holly was only at the stupid breakfast because her step-mother and father had forced her to attend. Despite knowing that many of the students and young adults in attendance would be the ones she made social connections with further down the line, there were few there that she could tolerate, let alone befriend. She found her seat on the sidelines without difficulty, scowling every time someone yelled too loudly or took a tumble in the grass.

"I would ask the same of you, Miss Seneca. There's a lot of red ones that match your temper," she retorted, looking up at the sixth year who, for some reason or another, had decided to pick on her. She gave a little smile, trying to make it obvious that she was merely teasing. She was friendly with Seneca Lestrange, but their constant bickering made it impossible for Holly to ever call them real friends (which, in truth, was the same way she felt about everyone else).

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"I think you're mistaking me with my cousin, Miss Holly," Seneca replied. Meta was known for being obnoxious and having a temper. Seneca was often called to subtract house points from Gryffindor because of Meta. Thank Merlin she wasn't in Slytherin, or Seneca would have orchestrated a plot to get her sent to auntie Olivia's finishing school.

"Aren't you enjoying yourself?" she continued. "It's such a lovely party!" Her voice was laced with sarcasm. It was an obnoxious party. Why had Mrs. Rosier charmed everything to run around?

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"Oh, perhaps I am," she replied dully. Seneca may not have the same explosive temper as Meta, but she was definitely quick-tempered. She supposed all Lestranges were like that.

The party was as dull as could be, especially for a fourteen-year-old without anyone to enjoy it with. There was good food, but it was nothing she'd never had before—and then there were the cartoonish magical effects that got old after a while.

"Can you tell that I'm having a blast?" she deadpanned, motioning for Seneca to take the seat beside her. "There's nothing that brings me more joy than watching people make fools out of themselves. Obviously.

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Seneca took the offered seat since her legs had gotten somewhat sore from the lawn games she'd played before.

She appreciated Holly's deadpan tone and smiled a bit. "That will never cease to be entertaining." Seneca liked watching others make fools of themselves. She didn't like being forced to partake in that foolishness. How did Cousin Ellory, a grown woman soon to marry a Lestrange, accept to chase after an enchanted croquet ball?

"Perhaps we could charm one of the eggs," Seneca told the young girl with a conspiratorial tone. "Or I, rather, seeing that I'm the only one legally allowed to cast magic outside of school."

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Seneca was always looking to use magic to cause mischief, wasn't she? Even if Holly was less enthusiastic about causing mayhem, she could appreciate that Seneca had no plans to use magic on her this time.

"Somehow I feel as though legality has never stopped you before," she commented slyly and pulled out her own wand. Besides, how would the Ministry know it was her when she was surrounded by other witches and wizards who were of age? "I'm sure enchanted eggs would make for a wonderful tea later." Especially if all the fools were forced to sit around after being assaulted with enchanted eggs.

"We could make them explode. Or have paint burst from them?" she asked.

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It was true, Seneca had used magic outside of Hogwarts' premises before turning seventeen. It had been with her family's blessings, too. Sometimes, her father or Belphoebe would show her dueling techniques. That aside, her father encouraged her to practice spellwork at home during the holidays, so she'd be prepared at school.

She hadn't been so bold as to use magic at parties and events, though. Seneca wanted to be edgy, but she wasn't quite so edgy... yet. Turning seventeen had made her feel very powerful, even though using magic now wasn't illegal, or anything.

In short, Seneca wasn't as cool and edgy as she wanted to be.

"We could make them bite," Seneca proposed. "That would give some of the brats a legit reason to cry." Seneca didn't like children when they were at their loud and obnoxious stage of growth.

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Holly nodded. Biting eggs would be absolutely hilarious, especially if they had to eat them later after being bitten. Holly would pay her allowance to see the looks on their faces, but she wouldn't have to if all went according to plan.

"Good idea," she agreed and moved to her feet. "Where to begin? How do you go about charming numerous items at once?" she asked, hoping Seneca would be able to answer without being condescending.

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Good question. "We'd have to cast the spell on at least one of them and then use the following incantation." She then said something which involved latin-sounding words.

How would they find one of the eggs? "We'll need to summon one of the eggs and then the other will cast the biting spell on it with that addition in the end. Do you think you can handle that, Miss Holly?"

Seneca was willing to put some water in her wine.

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Holly could do that. She knew she could. She may have only been a fourth year, but she would've taken bets that she could pass for a sixth year in terms of magical ability. "Yes, yes, I can do it," she said, lifting her wand. She cast the common "accio" charm, and the egg came to her without difficulty.

"Now you do the biting charm. Don't make it too sharp," she warned. It needed to be more akin to a nip than a bite; the last thing they needed was Mrs. Rosier wondering why all the children were suddenly bleeding.

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The following 1 user Likes Holly Scrimgeour's post:1 user Likes Holly Scrimgeour's post
   Seneca Lestrange

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Seneca had expected for Holly to offer to do the biting spell, instead of the summoning. Sen had no doubt that the third year would be able to cast a summoning charm, even if it was taught in the fourth year. Holly had already mastered everything that was being taught in her year.

The egg was summoned and it was Seneca's turn to cast. She took Holly's instruction into consideration and cast the spell and then cast a second spell, so the bites would hurt but not cause actual harm. Then, she gave Holly a nod so she'd release the egg into the world.

There was a little girl, about five, wandering not too far from where Sen and Holly were plotting.

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   Holly Scrimgeour

Holly watched with intrigue as Seneca charmed the egg, making mental notes of her incantation and wand movements so she might duplicate them later on. She smiled when it was complete and the egg opened up what looked to be a fully-functional mouth—teeth and all.

Seneca released it in the direction of one of their five-year-old cousins, and Holly watched with her breath held as it scampered after the child. It didn't take very long for the egg to find its target, and within a minute the little girl let out a high-pitched squeal. Holly's eyes widened and she stifled a laugh.

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Their operation had been successful. They had had excellent cooperation, the spells had worked perfectly and now their five-year-old cousin was crying. Like Holly, Seneca also tried to stifle a laugh. Truth be told, she sometimes laughed at the plight of children, even if she hadn't been the one to cause it.

"It is a pity that we won't debut at the same time, Miss Holly," Seneca commented and took back her previous seat. She waited for Holly to join her, before saying: "We'd have such great fun messing with our competition." And probably have some competition themselves, on who would get the most powerful husband.

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Holly sat back back down next to Seneca, letting out a laugh as she watched the child dash across the lawn towards the house. She could only imagine the conversations later—especially between her and Seneca.

"It is a pity," she agreed, trying to hold back a smug smile. "But who knows. Perhaps you'll still be a debutante when I debut," she suggested, having to glance down at the grass because she knew she'd burst out in laughter if she met Seneca's eyes. "If I'm to marry Mr. Macnair soon after graduation, maybe I could chaperon you." Which, frankly, would be the only fun part about marrying Germander Macnair.

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Right, Holly was betrothed to one of her Macnair cousins. Seneca's favourite from the Macnair branch. Soph, the writer, had forgotten this information and for the sake of consistency, Seneca had too.

Seneca believed that when she debuted, wealthy pureblooded men would fight to be her husband. She was the daughter of Lucius Lestrange, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and the patriarch of one of the most influential pureblooded families in Great Britain. Even if she was terribly ugly and had a limp, someone would want to marry her for the connections. So she had no anxiety about finding a husband.

"And perhaps I could pay you, seeing that you'd marry my aunt's fourth son," Seneca replied in a joking manner, though her words would likely insult Holly. Served her right of implying that Seneca could end up a spinster!

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Holly scowled at the Seneca's remark, but surprisingly didn't take it personally. It wasn't as if Holly was thrilled to be betrothed to Germander; he was a fourth son, and he was a boring one at that. She hadn't yet figured out her plan, but with every passing day Holly grew more confident that she would not be married the summer after her debut. (Even if she had no desire to dress in frilly dresses and dance around, it was better than being eternally attached to someone she despised.)

She couldn't just admit to Seneca that she was planning on murdering her cousin. That wasn't the best way to forge friendships, and neither did it come across as very ladylike.

"A lot can happen," she replied stubbornly. "I lost nearly all my siblings in one year. Maybe he will, too," she tried. At least contemplating the deaths of Germander's older brothers was better than talking about his own demise at her hands?

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   Roberto Devine, Seneca Lestrange

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