Didn't make sense not to live for fun
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb

April 20th, 1890 — A Midnight's Summer Dream Auditions, Hogsmeade Ballroom
@'Juliana Binns'

Time was crawling past at a snail's pace. Mr. Lintor hadn't last a month before Mars discovered his thieving tendencies and fired him on the spot, meaning Jo (once again) had to fill in the gaps left behind by Aaron. It hadn't irritated her at first, if anything she was happy to help her twin, but it was only meant to be a temporary thing. A patch job until Mars found someone suitable or could handle everything herself. Jo's offer of help wasn't meant to extend nearly three months after arriving in England. To place an expiration date on assistance was undeniably selfish, but when had Jo ever been anything else? Wasn't her selfish nature one of the main points of contention between her and her family?

The boring days in the shop had to end.

The days might have been tolerable if not for the continued isolation. Jo was a social creature, a person designed specifically for conversations and companionship. She wasn't meant to spend so many hours alone with only her thoughts for company. The few times Alfred sat with her (at her insistence) were enjoyable, but Jo couldn't ask him to do so every day. And there weren't many other options. Everyone either had work or families to attend to, or they were Holsten who she was steadily avoiding.

Saturn's offer to watch the shop for the afternoon was met with a sigh of relief from Jo. She still had to pick up some table from the address Saturn gave her, but at least after she could find some way to enjoy the sunny afternoon. A walk through London, maybe. The hunt for treasure hadn't yet been completed, and there were bound to be people to chat with along the way somewhere.

She hesitantly stepped into the floo (as her fortunate accident not two weeks ago remained fresh in her memory) and carefully enunciated the address Saturn scrawled out for her. Only, the place she arrived in in a puff of green smoke was far busier than Jo thought a seller of a fifteenth century table would prefer. "Fuck." She muttered under her breath as she examined the paper Saturn had given her. Surely, there was some mistake.

  

When Jules didn't have something occupying her time, like her work at the House of Lytton or her ongoing research project, she was frequently prevailed upon to accompany her mother to whatever it was the woman had on her calendar for the day. Mostly, she didn't mind, because it wasn't as though her mother still expected her to go out and be overtly social at many of these things. Time had tempered expectations and now with the mantle of spinsterhood firmly fixed on her shoulders, Juliana was, for the most part, allowed to be herself when out and about. This particular event was proving to be a little on the dull side, which, given that their normal outings consisted of taking tea in other people's parlors and attending garden parties, was saying something. On hearing there was a play to be done she'd expected to see costumes and props left and right, and instead it was just... people. People reading lines, people speaking in strange accents that she supposed were supposed to represent the way Shakespeare might have spoken, people looking anxious.

She had no intention of auditioning herself, or at least she hadn't until someone had raised the possibility of Zachariah doing so as well. The idea of Zach starring in a play was quite amusing to her, and she was willing to needle him into auditioning. She might even agree to do so herself, if it came down to that — in solidarity, not because she had any ambitions at all of securing a role.

Tired of the latest in a series of very mundane, ladylike conversations she'd been engaged in, Jules had decided to wander off and find one of the pieces of paper they were handing out with lines to read, just in case. As she walked by the entrance of the ballroom, however, a decidedly unladylike word caught her ear. She couldn't help but look to see where it had come from, and realized she recognized the woman who'd spoken.

"That doesn't sound very much like Shakespeare," she chided with a light smile.

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

Of course someone had to be close enough to hear her profanity, such was the way of the universe and her continued string of bad luck. Nothing, not even her relationship with Holsten (which had always been synonymous with breaking), was landing in her favor as of late. Jo sighed heavily and brushed a frustrated hand through her hair. Best get on with the talking to from hell, then.

She turned on her heel to face of her accuser, only to recognize the woman as Ms. Binns and her tone as teasing. Immediately, her tense shoulders relaxed and she smiled to hide her embarrassment. "Are you certain? I could've sworn I read it in one of tragedies." Jo shot back with a continued smile.

Maybe her luck was changing.

  

"Hmmm," Jules mused in response. A pretending musing, of course, because she knew very well Shakespeare didn't use that kind of language. Not that he was particularly above bawdy humor, in the tragedies or otherwise, but that particular word sounded a bit too modern to fit in, stylistically. (Had it been in usage when Shakespeare had written? She wasn't sure what the origin of the word actually was — maybe something interesting to look up later, if she had the time and the inclination).

"Are you thinking, perhaps, of when Ophelia drowned herself in the river?" Juliana asked lightly. "Because I'm fairly certain that what she said was duck."

(It wasn't, of course. Ophelia didn't even drown on stage in Hamlet, and the fellow who came on to recount her death had not, to the extent of Juliana's recollection, remarked on any nearby poultry. But — nevermind what was actually in Shakespeare's plays).

"It's the wrong play, anyway," she continued in the same teasing tone. "They're auditioning for a comedy today."

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

Many, many years had passed since Jo last read any of Shakespeare's works. In fact, unless it had to do with her job Jo wasn't the sort to voluntarily pick up a book (or play). There was so much to do and see in the world to spend it cooped up reading just didn't sit right with her. Still, she chuckled and did her best to not look as embarrassed as she felt. Jo wouldn't have been able to tell Ms. Binns what Ophelia said at all, never mind if what she said was an aquatic animal.

"Auditioning?" She asked instead, looking about the room with a confused expression. Saturn was going to get an ear full when she got home. "There's going to be a play?" Jo then added a bit dumbly on her part. Obviously, if there were auditions being held there would be a play.

  

"Mmhm," Jules agreed mildly, turning her head to survey the crowd of people in the room. She had assumed that Miss Smith had known that she was walking into auditions for a play, though perhaps that had been a silly guess given how she'd made her entrance. The question, however, seemed to confirm that she had no idea at all what she'd walked into, and now Jules was looking at the room in a new light. If she hadn't known these were auditions, what would she have thought upon walking in? Seeing people squinting at little sheets of paper and talking to themselves, some in little mutterings and some in loud, booming voices. Perhaps that some bit of magic had gone awry and everyone here was temporarily insane, Jules speculated. If she had been in Miss Smith's shoes, perhaps she would have sworn, too.

"A Midsummer Night's Dream," she explained. "To be performed around midsummer. A stroke of creative genius, that; and it's certainly never been done before," she said with mild but dry sarcasm. The exact same play had been done in the same park only a few years ago, and she remembered attending it. These were hardly professional actors, though; it was a women's society group, which spent most of their time arranging flowers and gossiping over tea. They could, perhaps, be forgiven for a lack of imagination. "I suppose if it goes well, perhaps they'll put on A Winter's Tale this winter, too."

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

Right, a Shakespearean play. It made sense given Miss Binns' opening quip that the play being performed would be a classic. Jo really ought to have been more on the uptake there. Had she floo'd into the auditions to the play of her own volition perhaps she would've been more intrigued by the process. However, this was quite obviously a prank set up by her brother to force her into an uncomfortable situation and Jo was tired enough as it was.

She chuckled at Miss Binn's sarcasm. It was clear whomever was putting up the play lacked originality as Jo could easily think of several other Shakespearean plays more deserving to be displayed on a summer stage than Midsummer (or, perhaps not easily but it wouldn't be difficult either). "Are you auditioning then? I didn't think you the type." Jo replied lightly. What little she knew of Miss Binns (and her knowledge truly was minimal) didn't lend itself to the idea of performing. "What role do you hope to receive?"

  

"Oh, no," Jules said immediately, despite the fact that she had begun wandering this direction in case she ended up doing that very thing. Having run into Miss Smith had distracted her, though, and she'd almost entirely forgotten her plan to try and get Zach to audition, much less that she was contemplating joining him just to ensure he went through with it. "No, you're right. I'm not the type. My mother and sister are here," she explained, with a vague wave towards the ballroom. "Doing those 'society-women-planning-things' sorts of things. And my mother has this thing about trying to get me out of the house basically any time I'm in the house," she continued. She was making fun of her mother a bit, but doing so without any trace of malice. She was hardly the conventional daughter, and was grateful that her parents and her siblings allowed her as much flexibility as they did. If she'd had her druthers, she might have only left the house to conduct research at the library and to check her post box at the Diagon Alley post office, and that probably wasn't a very healthy way to live. Some occasional socializing was probably good for her. At the very least, she couldn't begrudge them their efforts to force it on her every now and then.

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

"My mother is quite the opposite." Jo said in jest. "She would do just about anything to keep me home." Between her frequent disappearances in childhood and now her job which took her away for months at a time, Jo was positive her mother would've physically restrained her if at all possible. It was lucky that she was born into the oddball family she was, seeing as most others wouldn't tolerate such antics.

Jo then looked about the room once more before asking, "would your mother and sister miss you terribly if we went for a cup of tea?"

  

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beautiful set by mj

"Oh!" Juliana responded, quite surprised by the invitation. Pleasantly surprised, though, she thought. She was hardly opposed to getting a cup of tea with Miss Smith; she simply hadn't expected her to ask. "No, I don't suppose they would," she admitted, glancing over her shoulder at the bustle of people. They had other things to occupy their minds at the moment, anyway. Eventually they would probably run out of things to do and wonder where she'd gotten off to, but that didn't seem a very good reason to turn down an invitation to tea. If she went and told them she was running off, though, they might try to stop her... or at the very least, they might ask questions about where she was going, and with whom. She had never been much of a debutante, but occasionally traces of that mindset — that she ought to be chaperoned and protected when she went out — still showed in their habits.

"Let me tell my brother I'm going," she decided. "Then when they do miss me, at least they won't worry."

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

She hadn't realized Zachariah was here. It'd been months since they last saw one another at the shop, and even that was a fluke much unlike their time in the Americas. Jo looked about the room for him but when she didn't immediately see him she turned her attention back to Ms. Binns. "Certainly."

Once their goodbyes were made and they were outside Jo sighed a breath of relief. Whatever trick Saturn had been trying to play obviously hadn't come to fruition. "I must confess I'm not overly familiar with Hogsmeade anymore. I've only been here a few times since leaving school."

  

"It has changed quite a bit," Juliana said sympathetically as they walked out towards the street. She wondered how the time frame of since I was in school for Miss Smith compared to her own. Jules had never been very good at guessing ages, but she thought she probably would have remembered if Miss Smith had been one of her classmates. Come to think of it, there might have been a Mr. Smith when she was in school... but it mightn't have anything to do with the Miss Smith standing before her now. Smith was hardly an uncommon name, and it could've been shared by any number of magical families.

"Most people go to The Painted Lady for tea these days," she said with a frown before lowering her voice conspiratorially. "But there's a much better tea shop two blocks away that hardly anyone knows about. We ought to go there. The scones absolutely melt in your mouth and the tea isn't too sweet. It's too sweet at The Painted Lady, I think," she continued. "It makes whatever your having with it seem bitter by comparison, and tea oughtn't to do that."

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

Jo suppressed a chuckle as Ms. Binns went on about tea and scones. The woman had an unmatched fascination with food, it seemed, for last time they met the woman could hardly stop speaking of biscuits. "How horrid bitter scones would be." Jo said dryly, unable to resist teasing her new friend. It was an adorable love for sweets, and one not commonly found outside of childhood.

They meandered away from the hustling High Street and came across a smaller tea shop. Perhaps Ms. Binns would be right and the tea would be better here. "Do you make it to Hogsmeade often?"

  

"Sometimes," Jules answered indifferently. "I live and work in London, so I don't come here very regularly, but sometimes if I get time off on a Tuesday or Thursday I'll come to visit the market on High Street. They've got such delightful little vendors that you can't find in London," she said contently. She was about to launch into a description of the jam and iced biscuits that were her particular favorites from the Hogsmeade market, and the only reason why she sometimes offered to do the grocery shopping for cook, but reflected that Miss Smith was probably not particularly interested in details like this. She wasn't a Hogsmeade local, and didn't even spend very much of her time in England, from what Jules remembered of their last conversation.

"I was out this way more often when I was still considered eligible," Juliana continued as she found her way to a table. "Because Mother would find all sorts of parties to go to — though, between you and me, I'm not disappointed at all that we've moved past that phase," she confessed. "Now that they've all given up on the idea of me marrying, no one cares much if I go about on my own... to have tea with friends, for instance," she said with a smile. "Do you want black tea, or green?"

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

It shouldn't have surprised her to learn Ms. Binns was once a debutante given the woman's affinity for talking and tea, but it did. Despite having only met twice Jo now had a very specific vision of Ms. Binns (which fit very nicely with Zachariah and his cats) and attending balls simply wasn't part of it. Jo found herself biting back a giggle and nearly failed at it. No. Ms. Binns certainly was better off as a spinster.

"I'm relieved to have been spared that particular horror." Jo said instead. "My mother would've had to drag me along kicking and screaming." Jo hadn't even willingly complied with her Hogwarts Coming Out ball, and had only attended for an opportunity to roam about the castle once more. "Green tea, please."

  

"Literally?" Juliana asked with an amused smile as she waved the nearest staff member over. "I don't imagine your mother would have attempted it a second time, if that's the case. You would have made quite the scene, behaving like that."

The attendant arrived and Juliana opened the tea menu just long enough to point out one of her favorites from the green tea menu, and asked for a plate of raspberry scones as well. Raspberry went well with green tea, she thought. Most fruit-filled things did, while the heavier sweets such as those featuring chocolate and nuts were best reserved to accompany black tea. Unless the dessert was so rich it was served with cream, in which case all bets were off. Even the strongest tea couldn't hold its ground against a dessert so dense it required cream to offset it.

"The parties aren't so bad," she continued after the staff member had departed. "Dinner parties can be particularly enjoyable, with the right company. I was never particularly good at dancing — I forget the steps — but it's easy to find other things to do, and some of them are quite entertaining. At the very least," she said with a mischevious smile, "If you have one or two good friends in attendance, you can always resort to making fun of all the other guests, and that only gets more amusing the duller the party generally is."

  

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules