15 January 1892 — Magical Miscellany Auction — Hogsmeade Hall
One of the reasons that Ozymandias had never been interested in a career at the Ministry or some other equally prestigious was that he wanted to have the flexibility in his schedule to do whatever he pleased, whenever he pleased. He could work on his inventions when the inspiration struck him, make time for social events he wanted to attend, even take whole weeks off to do nothing but laze around if he wasn't feeling particularly useful. He could take up new hobbies and pretend they were relevant to his work (perhaps they would be, in some cases). He'd received this invitation as a social item, because this was being marketed as a way for rich men to pick up new eccentricities, but today he'd decided he was working. He had a few ideas on his mind for upcoming inventions, and he'd arrived to Hogsmeade Hall with a small notebook tucked into his jacket pocket to take notes. He was looking for inspiration, for ways to improve his ideas, and perhaps for materials he could use to create them. He'd found something he thought belonged to the latter category in the silent auction, and he'd put his name down with a bid. He was the first one to bid on it, but not the last — a few minutes later he spotted a woman writing down a counter offer on the sheet.
He assumed it was a passing whim, and waited a respectable amount of time before he circled back and added another price to the sheet, striking out her name above his. He'd barely gotten away from the table, however, when he saw her returning, presumably to outbid him again.
"I'm perplexed by what use a society matron might have for concentrated bloodroot syrup, Mrs. Macnair," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Would you care to enlighten me?"
He assumed it was a passing whim, and waited a respectable amount of time before he circled back and added another price to the sheet, striking out her name above his. He'd barely gotten away from the table, however, when he saw her returning, presumably to outbid him again.
"I'm perplexed by what use a society matron might have for concentrated bloodroot syrup, Mrs. Macnair," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Would you care to enlighten me?"
MJ is the light of my life <3