Lazy Weekends

Jude felt very good in this room. On the wall, he had a picture of his summer home - this being the home he used for the working season, preferring to be in the thick of what his politics created - and the image was enough to remind him of his wealth. On another wall, was a framed document that traced his lineage, with miniatures of all of his family, grinning and shifting their chins to catch the light, there to remind him of his power. The bookshelves full of encyclopedias, impressive-looking tomes, and rare works of the highest caliber reminded him of his taste. And, of course, the ornate mirror reminded him that he was one good looking son of a gun.

He thought Cerelia complimented the room fairly well, too, sitting in all of her class and designated authority. He wondered how often he would need to be in contact with those seeking his help, and how often Adolphus would have to bow out and send his daughter in his stead. That in itself was enough temptation. Jude did not often do things that could risk his job, he loved it so, but he did not mind when women, money, and power were involved, and it seemed he had something to gain in all aspects. Besides, he had done worse before, and talked his way out of it. The system was supposed to fight corruption, but he had adjusted parts of that system in the past few years.

"It is exceedingly simple to get into the Department of Mysteries if you know the right people, and you seem to know the right person." He grinned at her roguishly, always happy to deliver himself a compliment. "I think the whole ordeal is all in order. Will I be working on my own, or will I be given an assistant?"

Before Cerelia sat a man very much aware of the fact that he was well off and for a moment, rightly, Cerelia had cause to be rather jealous of him. Her finery was but a mask but he in his jogging bottoms boasted true wealth. Her pearls and leather gloves and ermine trimmed cloaks were all but facets of the facade that her father demanded of their family. While in truth they lived in abject poverty, Adolphus Avery still lived his life as if his vault was still abundant with gold. His daughter was canny in the respect that what she purchased was cheap and of a decent quality. She managed to make herself look nice without any true expense and though occasionally her grandmother would swoop in and remedy what she called a ‘dismal state of affairs’ Cerelia was hardly a draw on what little gold they had and was smart to ferry away what she saved in a vault of her own. She was no fool; to be sure.

What was important was that Cerelia maintain a sense of belonging in such political parlours. She had taken her place rather nicely, nestled into the many rooms of Rookwood Manor and she had a certain translatability that was incredibly invaluable to her father’s sense of business. She could move from dress to dress, room to room, gentleman to not-so-gentlemanly man and carry herself with a quiet dignity yet alluring mystery that truly made her an asset. A smirk sat seemingly permanent on her lips and she observed Jude with a cool eye that gave nothing away. She had caught him, she realised with inward glee. She had him hooked, interested and truly eager to learn more, to see more, to be involved more.

“Quite,” Cerelia drawled, noting the disgusting self-indulgence – like a boy, she thought. She gestured to herself with a wave of her hand and clarified for him, “I prefer partner, rather than assistant, if you please. I am no Blood-Traitor – they are your assistants. After all, you need to know what you are looking for ... don’t you? We can’t just give you a list; you do need eyes that don’t wander. Now, do we have a deal, Mr. Shaw – or do you need more convincing?” Cerelia cocked a blonde eyebrow at the man, daring him, almost, to name his terms.

((my muse failed, so excuse the brevity, please))

"Partner," he said, smiling widely. how fortune always seemed to smile upon him - how pleasing that he should have a business excuse to spend some one on one time with the young Avery in a high pressure situation. Even with all the spite in her tone, he found himself looking forward to continuing this business partnership with the blonde student. he was sure there would be benefits for all.

"You speak truth, and I look forward to the continuation of our business partnership," he said, smiling. He stood, holding a hand out to her, to make it official. "We have a deal."

Cerelia shook Jude’s hand and she smiled a genuine smile that was more out of relief than anything else. Her father would have had her guts for garters had she not secured Jude’s involvement and she suddenly felt paper-light, as if she could do anything. She brought her hand up to her forehead once she took her he and away and exhaled a breath of relief before laughing away what remained of her nervousness.

“You are less of a challenge than potion makers in Knockturn Alley, Mr. Shaw.” Cerelia told him truthfully before moving forward, pecking him lightly on the cheek. “I think you just made my day, sir.” She acknowledged with a slight incline of her head before stepping away. “Would I be overstaying my welcome if I now asked for a cup of tea?” Cerelia quirked her lips into a small smirk. “If you are not too busy, of course. Am I right in presuming you still have a question or two? Or something else, perhaps?”

Could I be persuaded to make your night?

No.

Business.

Stop it, little brain.

Stop.

He bit the comment back, smiling widely as she bestowed a kiss upon his cheek. Yes, he was definitely sure that he was excited to be apart of this project now. The kiss, in itself, was not something to write home about, but there was something in the innocent motion from her that excited him, perhaps with the idea of the potential in the gentle gesture.

"Even if you were, I'd advise you to do it. Overstaying your welcome is a powerplay, and a good one at that." He winked, and then motioned for her to sit. "Feel free to help yourself." He settled into his own seat and regarded her for a moment, after she offered him to pose any remaining questions. He smiled. "Who are you, Miss Avery? At your young age, who are you?"

That wasn’t the type of question Cerelia had exactly had in mind. She paused to think, holding the pot of tea that she had lifted from the table. The girl raised her eyebrows a little in acknowledgement of the question and shrugged her shoulders a little before leaning over to pour the tea into one of the delicately hand-painted teacups. She added a sugar lump and poured in a dash of milk before stirring and picking up the tea. She curled her long fingers around the cup and leaned back in the chair. She tossed one leg over the other and tapped her foot up and down as she thought before retorting with a smirk.

“Who were you at such a young age?” She questioned with a sly tone in her voice. She was playing at least. The conversation had taken an odd turn but to answer truthfully was to think about it truthfully and she couldn’t answer him. Not really. “I don’t know. I’m Cerelia Avery. Am I meant to have a personality? Is that actually allowed?” Cerelia took a sip of her tea. “I don’t know,” she repeated with a wry smile. “I suppose I’m just trying to get buy. This sort of gives me purpose. Not sitting in some near-stranger’s house talking to said near-stranger but the business end with the near-stranger and other stranger strangers. I don’t know. It’s interesting, at least. Better than staring at dresses all day. I guess you could say I’m bored, at my ‘young’ age. Bored and looking for purpose. What about you at your old age?” Cerelia smirked.

Oh, what a wench.

She threw the question back at him, but he smiled, certain she was just biding her time until she was pressed to answer. She finally began, seeming just as uncertain now that she was answering as she had when she had been planning her response. He kept the same, unreadable smile fixed upon his lips, prompting only with, "So long as your personality does not get in the way of your wifely duties, yes." He smirked, always happy to tease.

Her answer was coy and guarded, only revealing that she was not completely upset at her situation. It seemed she liked running errands, being given something along the lines of an occupation.

He smiled as she successfully managed to throw the question into his lap. But he was always quick to talk of himself. He was practiced, after all."I am where I planned on being, and I've been where I always expected to be. Boredom comes and goes, but people such as yourself are always so obliging as to help quell it for awhile. And there's always forward to look towards." Ah, perfect transition. "Better for me to look forward, I suppose, than you. What are you looking forward to? Marriage to a rich man seem exciting enough to put a stopper to your boredom?"

Cerelia laughed a clear, embittered laugh. Jude’s statement rang true and it cut deeper than he perhaps would have intended. Thankfully Cerelia was thick skinned. She knew better than anyone that to have personality outside devotion to pretty things was a dangerous thing to have and certainly not something one could get married on. She nodded, half acknowledging how correct he was and half resigning herself to that sort of fate. Her father was at his wits end as it was. He really wasn’t helping matters by giving her purpose.

Blonde eyebrows rose at the confidence of the man and a slow smirk spread across Cerelia’s face. She rolled her lips together absent-mindedly before looking at him with innocent eyes. “What kind of person am I?” She inquired teasingly. Cerelia laughed at his final inquiry, a laugh of genuine humour, before replying, “Oh yeah, that’s exactly what I want. Mmm, sounds divine.” She took a sip of tea. “No, I guess if he’s rich enough, I’ll disappear and leave him to his mistresses. I want to travel someday. That’s what I look forward to. Maybe do some relief work for less-fortunate wizarding folk. I suppose it depends on how nice my husband will be.”

Jude smirked. "What was that - a veiled criticism against pureblood society, or against men? You're so quick to assume he will want nothing to do with you, and prefer the company of mistresses. If that's true, why not marry the mistresses?" He was curious - he wanted little to do with those who had any sort of disdain for the society he had worked so hard to gain entrance to. Bitterness towards men, he could deal with. He was not a typical man.

Or so he said.

He quirked an eyebrow. "Travel, and relief work. My, let me try to slow the questions so quick to jump to my mind. Do you not yet apparate? Let me tell you, travel becomes something of a leisurely activity once you have your license. And what sort of relief work do you intend to do? And for which sort of less fortunate?"

Cerelia understood the Pureblood manner much better than she felt Jude Shaw did. She observed the man coolly and with a raised eyebrow she communicated her response. What do you think? She laughed briefly afterwards and brought her teacup to her lips for a quick sip of the warm liquid. It spread through her and she delighted in it for a moment before reaching forward to set it down on the coffee table between them. She sat up straighter after that, further forward in the chair, and smiled briefly at Jude before responding properly to him.

“They all prefer the company of their mistresses, Mr. Shaw.” Cerelia replied in a slow drawl, her smirk burgeoning across her features. “We do not marry the mistresses because divorce is sticky and frowned upon. Also, where is the fun of having a mistress if you marry her? I am not quick to assume anything, Mr. Shaw. I merely understand my people. Our men enjoy their wives for their heirs and their mistresses for pleasure. It is the way the world works. We are naive if we expect anything else but blessed indeed if it is something favourable.”

The blonde bristled at his assumption and huffed indignantly before retorting. “I hold an Apparation license, thank you very much.” She did not mention the fact that she detested the method of travel and that it left her feeling rather ill indeed. Instead she continued on. “My travelling will be internal. I wish to see the countries I visit – I don’t just want to Apparate to their capitals.” She tapped her fingernails against her thighs and swallowed before giving a light shrug. “The relief work that is unbecoming of a Pureblood, no doubt.” She smiled wryly. “And, for any less fortunate. Only Wizards, though. I’ll despair if I have to associate with those dirty Muggles.” She sniffed before adding. “I will do that while my husband amuses himself with his mitresses.”