Narcissa Malfoy

Daisy shrugged, not really sure how else to answer. “That seems to be the case,” she agreed. Narcissa’s infrequent cycling of clothing seemed a bit wasteful, but Daisy knew she couldn’t judge without the full story. After all, it was entirely possibly she was donating gowns and robes she no longer wore. “So not the dress for this occasion?” she asked to make sure she was following Narcissa’s logic. Honestly she was a good resource for conversation. Her sister had always struck Daisy as an exception rather than a rule in pureblood society, and it was hard to tell with Diana how much was her personal taste for extravagance and how much was the expectations of British society. Having Narcissa for comparison was a good indicator.

The path to McNair wasn't challenging. The man was influential, wealthy, and could assist Narcissa in the fundraising she was setting up to get the money she needed to invest in Death Eaters. He could be a great source of washing in that fundraising, and, for her, it would be the ideal alternative for such an act. "Walden." She started, approaching and offered her hand to greet him. "I believe that this space is sufficient for our conversation. How are you doing? I saw your wife a few days ago, and she seemed very happy." Badly dressed, Narcissa wanted to say but preferred to act as respectfully as possible.

"And I can see you are in a good mood, Kingsley." Narcissa moved closer to the other, as she looked around making sure no one would imagine or suppose anything over two friends chatting. She decided to be around since his boyfriend returned home to make sure he wouldn't remember anything from the Malfoy's Manor. It was a guarantee that her family was safe, and she could continue her work without any issues. "I am glad to see this, to be honest. If I remember well, you asked me to go to dinner with you." She smiled, thinking it was an excellent way to make him distracted for a while.

Daisy liked meeting people without lots of high stakes involved. This was the perfect kind of moment like this. It wasn’t some big event where she needed to smile and remember names. They were simply two women chatting at the tailor’s. It was kind of nice.

“I can understand that,” Daisy agreed. “Walden has said he doesn’t mind me buying occasion gowns, but I feel the same way. If it doesn’t have versatility, is it worth it?” She shrugged, not having the answer. “I just bought a few things that are supposed to give me some options as the baby grows. With where I’m at right now, I can’t imagine being something for right this second.”

“Radiant,” Lucius said honestly, when she asked him how she looked. His fingers were still warm where she’s pressed her cheek into his touch. Everything about them was so tentative and fragile, but beneath it all there burned a desire that very nearly frightened him. It seemed imperative to act on it, yet something heavy knitted in his chest at the constant worry that one wrong, bold move could shatter everything.

He couldn’t mess this up. He couldn’t give her any reason to doubt him or think little of him. He had to be so careful he nearly shivered with the effort.

Noting her comment, as soon as she walked off Lucius headed to his own preparations for the evening. He made sure the house elves knew to take care of the kittens, and then put on precisely the suit Narcissa had mentioned. When they’re convened in the study, the sight of her in red nearly stole the breath from his already constricted lungs.

“Only a few minutes now,” he answered, standing next to the cleared desk, which held only a small golden handmirror on it which would function as their portkey. He dared to reach out a hand and steady her as she approached, touch light across her arm.

“I would catch you if you stumbled, Narcissa,” He quirked a smile at her, tone lightly teasing but earnest. He slid his hand down her arm and wound their fingers together, daring to tug softly as if to invite her to step closer against him, so he could wrap an arm around her waist and steady her during the disorienting method of travel. “I would carry you, if it came to it. So you needn’t worry.”

Malcolm considered any chance to tell anyone about his daughter or wife was not a time wasted. Though he had his disagreements with Lucius, his wife was tolerable and was the one he knew the least. He knew that Diana could care less about the other Black sister, but she wasn’t worse than the others by default. “Of course. It’s been far too long since you have been here. I think it must have been my birthday or wedding.”

Both of those events were earlier in the spring of last year and it really was extraordinary that he hadn’t invited her over since. “The sun is good for my complexion. Otherwise, I have the house staff do it or the house-elves. They’re better than I could be. Daphne is…I thought there was only ever one girl for me but I mistook the universe again.”

Caleb followed diligently, letting his eyes roam down the corridor as they moved into another spacious room. He wondered how many other people have been met in here and how much fancier they were than Caleb. The only reason he must be here is because of the name attached to him and the work that he had proved himself worthy enough. Otherwise, he wasn’t any better than the purebloods that looked and behaved like the Malfoy couple. “Sounds like a good man. Can’t wait to have the pleasure.”

He gave a slight nod to the house-elf and lowered himself to the chair. “I am fine with giving you my creative perspective, Mrs. Malfoy. You are more than deserving of it. I…like to do oil as far as the type. I reserve charcoal for landscapes and other works. As for today, I was going to do something sophisticated and classy. Something that will compliment and look good next to the other portraits in the corridor.”

The only sort of fashion knowledge Cas had was when someone’s outfit would look better on his bedroom floor, but he only smiled and didn’t correct her. Instead he offered her his hand as he stepped closer. “I’d be flattered, my lady.” He said, voice full of charm as he tipped his head to look her over.

“Something more flattering for your figure. Maybe a bolder color. What is your favorite color?” He asked, although he was already thinking about finding something red and shining, something that would have looked good at a Christmas Ball, perhaps. Shame he didn’t know actual fashion terms to describe what he wanted.

It was rare for Juniper to buy new clothing; so much of what she had was thrifted or found in muggle stores. But she had a need for a nice dress and with her larger figure – thanks, baby, she thought – she thought to purchase something new. Her eyes caught on a green dress and as she heard its wearer speak, Juniper bit the inside of her cheek. Juniper’s brow rose and her lips quirked into something some might call a smirk. She tilted her head to the side and ran her hand through her hair. “I was more wondering about the color,” she pointed out, well aware that she was speaking to one of Sirius’ cousins – but if she was truly that vain, Juniper couldn’t be bothered to care. “It doesn’t exactly go with your coloring; you wouldn’t want to look washed out, would you?”

While Cas was undeniably vain, he wasn’t the sort to pay that much attention to his wardrobe on account of the fact he thought he looked good in everything, so going to fancy shops was more for the chance to people watch than it was to stroke his own ego - it was a good way to find out who the rich and influential were, just like it was a good way to meet bored spouses that might feel neglected.

It didn’t take long to spot a young woman dressing herself up in little gems like she wanted to be stared at. Probably sold off in marriage to some older man, if he had to guess. “You are stunning, but I don’t think the dress compliments you properly.” Cas commented, reminded of a movie he’d watched once where a woman made a dress from green drapes.