Oh dear, Seneca thought, Mr. Flint was a step away from becoming the blushing debutante of the two. That being said, she enjoyed his compliments and his efforts into impressing her. That she found more attractive in a man, than trying to bulldoze the conversation with pompous talk about one's mediocre accomplishments at the Ministry! She couldn't stand listening to those men and having to pretend to be impressed by them. Every time she had to validate a man, Seneca wanted to jinx herself.

But Mr. Flint was different than those men. He was intelligent and studious, a fine companion to Seneca's academic spirit. He was also rather attractive, but not in the Golden Quidditch player way that so many other women admired.

"Compliment accepted, Mr. Flint," Sen replied with a playful smile. "And that is true, though do not tell my Papa and my step-mother that!" Then again, it had been Lucius who'd instilled in Seneca this sense of grandiose. "I couldn't marry someone who wouldn't view my ambitions as beneficial for the both of us. Don't you agree, Mr. Flint? Why would someone want to be with someone lesser than them, instead of an equal."She could see that displayed in her father's relationship to Belphoebe, compared to her late mother. He loved his second wife, who had been his equal in wit and accomplishments, while he'd never respected his pretty and vapid wife.

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