April 5th, 1890 — Ehcnanted Brunch

Seneca was finding the event really obnoxious so far. What was the point of all those lawn games if everything was going to try and escape from the guests? She wondered if Mrs. Rosier was friends with Aunt Mariana, who had a similar approach to hosting parties.

She had come with her two cousins from Auntie Olivia's side, Evelyn and Ellory. Ellory, in particular, was really enjoying the party. She kept babbling on about how jealous she was of her little sister for getting to participate in the egg hunt. At least she didn't try and join the children, thank Merlin. As Claudius' future wife, she had to keep up appearances, not act like a child!

She suggested they go and play croquet and Seneca lazily followed her. They were joined by a man who had introduced himself as Enoch Rosier, the hostess' son. They were about to begin the game when the ball transformed into an animal and scurried away. Only Ellory was willing to chase after it.

"Well, I guess we're not playing after all," Seneca commented. It was clear in her voice that she wasn't particularly disappointed by that fact. She tried giving her croquet bat thing (neither Seneca, nor Soph knew what it's called) to Mr. Rosier.

Enoch Rosier Elladora Black

  

As a rule Enoch felt obliged to declare any event his mother threw to be a success but he had to concede that this was a tad on the twee side for him. There were children running around for fuck’s sake – what on earth had she been thinking? It was elegantly done of course, nothing his mother did would be anything else, but still, it was far from his usual preference.

Under his mother’s watchful gaze he had tried to get involved, but despite their excellent heritage neither of Olivia Pendergast’s daughters could hold his interest for too long. (Merlin the mother had though - that had been a woman!)

Fortunately he didn’t appear to be the only one less than enthused. As Miss Pendergast ran away like a child and Mrs Abercrombie followed in a much more dignified manner he was left with the youngest of the group, who looked about as impressed with proceedings as he felt.

“Nonsense Miss Lestrange, we’ll simply call it as a win for us,” he said, blindingly handing both mallets to the nearest servant. “They left the playing field after all – a technical victory is still a victory.”

  

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Seneca liked winning, even if she hadn't put in any effort into doing so, as it was with this game's case. "You know the rules better than I do, Mr. Rosier," she replied with a playful smile.

"Is there going to be a reward for our victory?" she then asked. "I am sure that your mother must have thought about something."

Maybe a bunch of fairy children would show up and shower them in colourful confetti that would make a mess out of their clothes. And she was wearing a Lytton dress for the occasion.

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“If she has then she has not seen fit to inform me of the details,” he replied.

Not that she usually felt the need to of course. Evalina Rosier’s plans tended to unfold at exactly the pace she had intended them to, with nobody knowing anything they didn’t need to before the appointed time. If there was a prize to be had it would reveal itself eventually.

“Perhaps we should just take superiority at gamesmanship to be its own reward, Miss Lestrange?” He suggested with a rakish, charming smile, ever-conscious that a young lady bearing the name Lestrange ought not be ignored.

  

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"A Gryffindor would be satisfied with just that," Seneca commented, taking a wild guess that Mr. Rosier hadn't been one during his time at Hogwarts. "But I suppose it is better than nothing."

Seneca didn't really care about lawn sports, anyway.

"Do you enjoy any other sport, Mr. Rosier?" Seneca asked, for the sake of conversation. "Dueling, perhaps?" He struck her as the sort of young man to duel than play Quidditch. He was sharply dressed and seemed to know what he wanted to do with his future.

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“I would be a poor auror if I did not,” he replied with a sardonic smile. Miss Lestrange seemed to hold much the same opinion of Gryffindors that he did, which was unsurprising but nevertheless rather pleasing to hear. She truly was a credit to her father.

“I hope you do not harbour craving for such sport Miss Lestrange? Such brutality would be amiss in a lovely young woman such as yourself.”

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Ah, this would be a difficult one to maneuver. Seneca wanted to leave a good impression but she also loved dueling.

"Dueling at Hogwarts is hardly brutal," Seneca commented lightly. "And I would be a... poor Lestrange if I wasn't interested in those sorts of things. I may not go looking for trouble, but it would be embarrassing for a member of my family to not be able to defend himself in the case of an attack."

  

Enoch chuckled to himself drily, trying to imagine what kind of fool would dare to attack the daughter - favourite daughter, the gossips said – of Lucius Lestrange. No reward or gratification in the world would be enough to compensate for what the Chief Warlock would likely do in vengeance, though Enoch liked that she had spirit of her own and didn’t entirely rely on her father’s name.

Young ladies of that sort were terribly dull, after all.

“That sounds very sensible to me Miss Lestrange,” he replied with an approving look. “It would certainly make my job easier if more people took responsibility for their own safety.”

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She had dodged that bullet. Mr. Rosier made no comment that could point to him disapproving of her ability to duel. She was sure that if they were attacked by a dark wizard at just that instant, Mr. Rosier would rush to her rescue. Men liked being rescuers.

"Oh, surely you don't want an easy job," Seneca teased. She didn't know his character but it was safe to assume that men wanted to be impressive and strong.

  

Across the lawn Enoch heard the caw of his mother’s raven, a sound that immediately let him know that he was being summoned by the lady of the house for some purpose or other. Presumably his mother had not seen with whom he was conversing – she would be a poor matchmaker indeed to take him away from Miss Seneca Lestrange but he was loathe to upset her and this did rather gave him the upper hand.

“I don’t like doing anything the easy way,” he replied with a slow smile that he would certainly not have allowed to surface had her father been present. “Do excuse me Miss Lestrange. My mother does not believe in the easy way either,” he quipped, holding out his arm for the bird to land upon, letting it rest of his shoulder as he abandoned the game, the lawn but not he hoped any chance of encountering Miss Lestrange again.

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wrap?

  

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Indecently attractive set by MJ