CAsuAl Indescretions

[Scarlett Bulstrode]

@Salazar Slughorn

She had insisted that he needn’t trouble himself, that she would be staying with some friend or another anyways and he would be bored. It was an easy feat, getting Irving to remain at home whilst Scarlett actually enjoyed herself. While this particular function was a bit dour for her tastes—black had never been her color, and so in defiance Scarlett wore a dress in white; to the woman who had bold enough to say anything on the matter, the witch had coolly gone on a tangent about her ‘Indian heritage’, conveniently ignored entirely until times such as these.

Scarlett had thought she would have to make certain inquiries to secure an invitation for Salazar, but he had attended on his own merit and so she now clung quite happily to his arm as they made their way about the room. They had, of course, uncoupled so that she might great her father and Patience—while the latter was aware of their…friendship, Scarlett doubted her father would approve—but she had seen no need to leave him otherwise. This was her world, not Irving’s, and he could always be a family friend if the need arose.

“I heard no fewer than three people downright sobbing, and that during the social—well after the memorial!” she remarked scornfully as they stood to the side of the dance floor. Though graceful, Scarlett had never been one for dancing, however did enjoy to walk others partake and judge their shortcomings.

  

[Salazar Slughorn]

Salazar hadn't even brought up the invitation to this particular function to his wife, merely leaving the house at his own leisure, and leaving Elvira to her own devices. Quite often, he gave her no warning as to whether he might be returning home from work late or somesuch, both thoughtlessly and purposefully before; today's negligence was entirely due to the fact that he was planning to pay his attentions elsewhere for the evening. Theirs had not been a necessarily expected invite, so Elvira may not even connect his absence to this event, and Salazar had no qualms brushing off any inquiries of hers with a solemn admission that she was, unfortunately, indisposed.

Having had no especially close losses in his circle of family and friends this summer, Salazar's mind was only half-heartedly on conjuring a mournfulness during the memorial, at least, and whilst he was dressed as simply as everyone in black, Scarlett struck a dazzling figure in white - he had to admire her boldness - and this proved distraction enough as the minutes progressed excruciatingly slowly.

She having been outside the quarantine and he within, Salazar hadn't Scarlett in a lengthy while, so was having more trouble than usual disguising his smirk at her company. Laughing at her comment would have been highly inappropriate, so he confined himself to taking another sip of the wine in his hand. "Yes, I bore witness to one of them, myself," he answered, with a quiet scoff. There had been plenty of visible sorrow during the memorial, but he had (unfortunately) watched a woman succumb to tears in the middle of a conversation later, and promptly sidled away so as not to deal with her directly. He had always been a little impatient when it came to such dramatic displays of emotion. "If they knew themselves to be quite so fragile still, you would think they might recognise staying at home as the option better suited to everyone." A memorial celebration this may be, but it would have been considerate to let those able to enjoy it do so in peace.

  

[Scarlett Bulstrode]

“Precisely,” she agreed, taking a glass of punch from a passing tray. It was for this—among others—reason that she was so fond of Salazar’s company; the two so rarely disagreed on social matters that it was very much like having Poppy with her, but this Poppy was an attractive gentleman with whom she might conduct dirty deeds later.

Might—bah. Who was she kidding? The two had been separated long enough that said deeds were, tonight, a certainty, or heads would roll. Even if Irving were capable of pleasing her, she hadn’t let him have a chance at it since the previous Christmas. The summer, therefore, had been a long one.

“I daresay they only heard about the memorial, and so were decidedly quite startled to learn that it was a proper function, though I thought that Mrs. Mulciber was quite explicit in her invitation. Some people just lack sense.”

  

[Salazar Slughorn]

Well, Salazar certainly would not have come if it had been only a memorial service designed for the mourners. Even if he had, and even if he had lost someone he knew, he was certain that he had the self-control to remain composure in public throughout. (And if, say, it had been Godric who had died, Salazar was convinced that he would be able to choke back his sobs quite effortlessly.)

"That they do," Salazar thereby agreed, glancing over dispassionately - and raising his eyebrows at Scarlett to draw attention to the further evidence - at another case of someone embarrassingly overcome by their emotions in the middle of the ballroom; that, or they were merely a horrific dancer, stumbling around wildly out-of-time. Perhaps they had been so startled that they had not come expecting a ball at all. In any case, this would have been quite unbearable without his present company, eternally refreshing as she was, and especially so tonight. Oh, had he missed Scarlett all summer!

"Thankfully, I am pleased to note I possess enough of it to attempt to make the most of the evening, despite the occasion," Salazar added, inclining his head at Scarlett as he took another sip to temper his joviality and any suggestion in his words. Perhaps it was not particularly sense that played into it, but he supposed desire a well-matched substitute.

  

[Scarlett Bulstrode]

Scarlett rolled her eyes at another such display, wondering why on earth people would leave their homes if they could not refrain from causing such a scene.

“And I’m glad of it,” she replied to her companion, wondering how much ‘the most’ might amount to—and quite happy to go along with whatever that might be. Not for the first time, Scarlett wondered what life might have been like if she had met Salazar before chaining herself to Irving…and not for the first time, the witch concluded that this situation was far more ideal. Marriage, she thought, was surely the antithesis of passion—and besides, the intrigue was half the fun!

“Though I shouldn’t have expected otherwise—it’s not as if any of your relations died, nor mine. I think that we might not be dour enough, though. Shall I launch into a bout of hysterics?”

  

[Salazar Slughorn]

He was just as glad. The occasion was not the most exciting backdrop - necessarily sombre as it was - but Salazar would be lying if he denied that even just seeing Scarlett lifted his spirits markedly. He rarely felt so content at home, save the occasional moment with the children, save the burst of savage pleasure at he and his wife's most vehement arguments. So the merit of her company alone would be just enough for now.

"No, we were mercifully quite spared of tragedy," he agreed. "But oh, perhaps you ought," Salazar said, his voice low, once again trying to contain his smirk at the easy way she had said that, and indeed because he did not, after all, wish to stand out in the room for being too obviously insensitive. "Though I trust you will not be too disappointed in me if I spare you of my tears, and merely look on with a view to console you?"

  

[Scarlett Bulstrode]

“I should cry out in hysterics and then swoon,” Scarlett suggested devilishly. “It would be your duty as a gentleman to see to my well-being. I daresay I would need to be moved somewhere more private for my recovery!”

  

[Salazar Slughorn]

He laughed. It was all too clearly a scheme, but as amusing as it sounded it could be an excellent one for seeking out some privacy. "I daresay you would," Salazar said mock-solemnly. And it would be better than a duty, but a privilege, if he were to benefit from the convenient privacy as he hoped. He would be right at hand for that.

"Well?" He prompted teasingly. "And would you be willing to sacrifice a sliver of dignity to create such a scene?" A faux-breakdown would no doubt draw attention from the room at large, but there would also be the added entertainment of pulling it off as a successful escape. He was sure Scarlett could be quite the actress.

  

[Scarlett Bulstrode]

Creating a scene was something she had mastered at a very young age. In answer to his question, Scarlett let her entire body go limp with a dramatic sigh, falling into Salazar.

  

[Salazar Slughorn]

How fortunate, that Salazar was already so conveniently close as to catch her with only the barest hint of surprise. He swept her better into his arms, one hand finding her waist. These natural reflexes were followed by a "Mrs. Bulstrode! Are you quite alright?" pronounced for the benefit of any onlookers, and a "No, no, let me," to wave away anyone too keen to help as he supported her. He glanced towards the nearest set of doors, eager to see her to some place more private. It was pure chivalry, any man might do the same. He had this.

  

[Scarlett Bulstrode]

Scarlett had to fight to resist the urge to laugh at how comical the scene was becoming. Oh, surely to any on-lookers Salazar’s ‘concern’ would be merited, but she had never much fancied her lover for an actor, and he was not proving her wrong now.

“I-I think I need t-to lie down,” she panted as she ‘struggled’ to maintain consciousness. Lie down to start with, at least.

  

[Salazar Slughorn]

It was perhaps all a little over-the-top, and Salazar thought Scarlett might be laughing somewhere beneath her half-conscious swooning. She was rather believable, despite the melodrama, and he too was struggling to keep a straight face, once more much less well than she. "Of course," he murmured, having gained better control of his expression and his faculties of movement. To business, then. Well, the business of getting out of the public eye, and then to business of a different sort. "This way," he said, guiding them through the doors, though he had the least idea where they were going; best get one of the staff to point out where she could lie down in peace.

  

[Scarlett Bulstrode]

The awkward shuffle was a bit too awkward for her liking, and so Scarlett dramatically swooned properly so as to be carried, rather than led, away. Only the ghost of a smirk on her lips could have alerted any onlookers to the ruse.

  

[Salazar Slughorn]

Aha. Much better. It was not too taxing to sweep her up properly under his arms, though carrying her without trying to break into a laugh at her pretend-faint was more difficult than he might've imagined. Still, they made better progress like this, and eventually, thankfully, they had been left alone.

"Well, subtle that was not," Salazar murmured in her ear, waiting for her to open her eyes with a - increasinly impatient - smirk. Though of course he did not care - it had worked for their purposes, and added just a nice touch of risk to the whole affair. No, and there likely would be another woman or two to swoon today still, though probably not to same advantage as Scarlett.

  

[Scarlett Bulstrode]

“I think I need to lie down,” she returned, eyes unopened and a smirk on her lips. Perhaps tonight would not be so dour after all.