June 5th, 1894 — Skyfall, Cambridgeshire
Before her debut

Her gown was stiff, uncomfortable, out of necessity. The dress from the coming out ball at Hogwarts the week before had been nice enough, but set aside in exchange for white silk emblazoned with small pearl-and-diamond constellations all over the skirts and bodice, a nod to her passion for astronomy that had been tied into the very fabric of the event. Not a theme, though; Iphigenia Adebayo would never allow a theme to overshadow her.

"It isn't right," she bemoaned as she sat at the vanity, trying to rearrange a wayward curl. "And it must be perfect."

Unlike her sister, there was no finishing for Ipheginia, who was to be launched straight into her first season. At first, this had inspired pride and confidence in the young witch, but weeds of anxiety had also begun to take root within her. Her family's love was guaranteed, but the esteem, respect, and pride of her father, of Ìyá? Those were not awarded half so easily.

— Ife Gbadamosi & Callista Adebayo —

  

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— mj makes pretty things ✨ —

Under normal circumstances Ife might have admonished her granddaughters for spending too much time staring in mirrors — there was a fine line between looking respectable and formidable and spiraling into vanity — but tonight was as far removed from normal circumstances as a young girl could be. Her namesake could be allowed the digression.

"Let me," she said, moving between Genia and the vanity and reaching for the curl in question. With a few deft finger moments she charmed the curl straight, then with a twist caused it to bounce back into a mirror of its original shape. She let go of the lock and left the actual arranging of it to Genia, satisfied that she would be more successful now.

"Your dance card will be full tonight whether or not your hair is perfectly quoiffed," she pointed out mildly. She did not ask whether Genia was looking forward to it, or whether she was nervous; she did not ask if there was anyone particularly she was hoping to dance with. The season was as much a business as the Adebayo Trading Company was; best to approach it as such, not with sentiment.

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   Iphigenia Adebayo

“But it will all be perfect,” Callista assured her sister from where she was hovering near the window, looking out on the transformed gardens. She was conscious of not crowding Genia at what was sure to be a most stressful interlude, but all the same, yearned to give her – something that was not their grandmother’s matter-of-fact practicality. “You look a marvel, Genia.” More splendid still than she had at Hogwarts’ ball, and this time she would not be part of a constellation, not needing to compete for anyone’s admiration.

She resisted the urge to fix her sister’s hair herself, feeling sure the more she fussed, the more self-conscious she would make her. She wasn’t sure she had ever seen Genia truly nervous before.

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   Iphigenia Adebayo

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Genia had often wondered if there was anythin her Ìyá could not remedy. Thus far, she had found nothing to add to that particular list. She tucked the charmed curl neatly into place, where it remained this time, as though fearing the wrath of Ife Gbadamosi should a single strand leave its place. The debutante was satisfied it would remain thusly for as long as she needed it to.

"I am a marvel," she returned slyly to her sister, an affirmation to herself as much as it was a joke. Unlike things-that-could-not-be-remedied-by-her-grandmother, the list of Iphegenia's accomplishments was a notable one. Most importantly, though, she was an Adebayo, and while her family name did not carry the same weight in English society as the likes of Lestrange or Rowle, her family was a damn distinguished one.

"Is there anyone in particular," Genia asked of both witches, all business, "that I should ensure I make a good impression upon this evening?"

— Ife Gbadamosi & Callista Adebayo —

  

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— mj makes pretty things ✨ —

Ife frowned just slightly at the question. It wasn't the wrong question to be asking, but the answers were too few and far between for her liking. English society was a smaller world than the one she had been born into; in Africa it wasn't impossible to travel two kingdoms away for a party, especially with the aid of magic. She recalled having half a dozen suitors when she was on the social scene. She would struggle to come up with a list that long for Iphigenia, or for Callista, but not because they were any less accomplished or desirable; simply because the worthy men were fewer and farther between.

"The Lovegoods," she offered. She planned to speak to Orlando Lovegood tonight herself, not because he was a good option for either of the girls but because she suspected his favor would make a world of difference when it came to the affections of Andren Lovegood. He was a fair enough match; Quidditch was an unserious business, so not ideal, but at the very least he wasn't sporting criminals in the wings of his family like the Scrimgeours or the Echelons were. The only scandal associated with the Lovegoods was that the spinster Lovegood was foolish, and that was long enough ago now that no one talked about it anymore.

"Edwin Rowle," she continued. The youngest Rowle would probably have been a better match for Callista, but it seemed in poor taste to state as much when tonight was her youngest granddaughter's moment to shine. "And it's never a bad idea to impress a Lestrange, though I don't expect you'll find a husband there. But it's a worthwhile family to have friends in, once you're married."

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