─────────────────────.xJuly 23 2023 | @Archer Duncanx.─────────────────────

Arianna lingered before the gilded mirror, gazing at her own reflection in the gleaming surface.

“This party will be an excellent way to prove that you reach high standards, Arianna.” The very letters of her name were drawn out, as Lord Swann walked towards the girl and took her shoulders in his hands, squeezing tightly; she took that as a fatherly touch of affection.

“The Duncans shall be here in 30 minutes. Do not linger.”

Arianna stood up, letting her hair stay in neat white locks. All three dresses laid in front of her were black but varied in size and shape, yet all were distinctly luxurious. The dress that Arianna selected was puffy in nature, embroidered with light black petals that floated with the breeze. She allowed Pookey to help her pull on the dress, wincing slightly as it tightened around her waist, before being directed back to her vanity set. Huffing, the girl continued her vain attempts at applying a layer of lip gloss.

Pookey faded away into the background of the room, before the man stared at her. “Leave us. Check on the food, and be quick with it.” The house elf didn’t say anything, letting out a squeak, before she snapped her fingers and vanished away with a crack, leaving the girl alone with her father.

“You remember what you are to do at the party, yes?” Severin asked, straightening the lapels of his suit.

“Yes, I am to talk with Mister Archer Duncan and make him a potential friend for Hogwarts, next year, as well as being a good host.” Arianna recited back, having heard the speech enough times to understand what her father expected of her. It was daunting, really. All the choice things Arianna Lilly Swann was expected to perform perfectly on her debut as a pureblood.

“You’d do well to remember that, when we are at the party. Any mistake will reflect on our family poorly, and you will be punished for it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, father. I won’t let you down.”

“Good, I expect nothing but perfect behaviour from you, Arianna.”

“Of course.” The girl nodded cordially, expression and words at odds with the boisterous young child she had become. It wasn’t common that Arianna feared another person, but she feared her father, and his wrath.

“Well, if you understand, it’s time to go down to the ball. The guests will be arriving shortly.”

She would not fail her family. Wordlessly, Arianna followed her father down the flight of stairs and into the ballroom, smoothing out her dress, now waiting for the guests to arrive.

Papa had wanted them to attend yet another pureblood gathering. It was the summer when Atticus Duncan, far overdue, realised his son was yet to have any true friends beyond the few acquaintances he had met over the years and then promptly forgotten.

Ever since Malcolm Duncan’s retirement from the Ministry of Magic, the Duncan family had been awfully quiet in the pureblood society, shrouding themselves in a veil of mystery. Archer did not feel too much need to change the situation.

As Archer fixed his tie, slightly frowning at his fumbling reflection in the mirror, as he noticed Papa approaching from the behind. He caught his father’s eye in the mirror and offered a smile best he could. He was still reluctant about going. Papa smiled, his lips tugging upwards in amusement. He had laid a hand on Archer’s shoulder, his usual scent of expensive ink overrode with a pine cologne. ‘We should leave now lest we be late.’ Archer nodded, his hands unconsciously straightening the lapel of his suit. It was a pretty little thing, sewn from a midnight blue that bordered on black, with gold trims, adorned with small droplets of the actual mineral. He would never wear such an overly-extravagant piece of clothing under usual circumstances. But Papa had insisted.

‘A moment, Papa, I’ll catch up with Maman.’

Papa had settled onto the train already, saving a compartment for his son and wife, but Maman was there, her hand outstretched, waiting for Archer. As Archer reached her, he clasped it, squeezing it tight in his still boyishly round fingers. Archer felt warm as she smiled down at her, the scent of stuffed tomatoes she must have just prepared wafting pleasantly into his nose. ‘Come on, mon chéri¹! The train won't be waiting forever, now would it?’ Archer shook his head playfully, and hand in hand, mother and son boarded the Scottish-English Wizarding Express and left the cool summer breezes of Isle of Skye.

The trip was not long, perhaps a little over four hours. Archer had spent the most of the duration with Maman, a map poured out on the table, and the two noting significant cities and their representative locales and cultures, while Papa made occasional remarks on their literary value as settings that no one intended to be educated on. It didn't seem like four hours anymore.

Westminster was usually a bustling locale, but there were only guests awaiting at the Swann manor, hidden from the prying eyes of Muggles. Papa had taken to socialise with the Swanns. 'I'd rather not at the moment,' Maman had said in response. Archer knew she had never like the world of wizarding blue-bloods, despite being one herself. Instead, she had taken the time to show Archer the different species of flora and fauna that grew on the grounds, introducing him to some more magical variants he would learn about in Herbology. "What's that?" Archer had almost asked, before he saw Maman hurriedly glancing at her watch. 'I don't think today is not the best time to be... "fashionably late", as they call it,' she said with a hearty chuckle. 'We'd better go reintroduce you to the Swann heiress. Weren't you two getting on dearly last time?'

Archer shook his head, a smile playing at his lips. 'Well, I wouldn't say that.'

Maman just laughed, took Archer's hand and squeezed it light-heartedly, before leading him back towards the main entrance, where Papa had already been chatting with the Swanns.

‘-Marguerite and Archer have been well lately, and your lovely wife and children?’ Archer heard Papa finish. His eyes flickered to Archer and Maman as he heard them approach. A glint sparkled in the author’s eyes as he added, ‘There they come now.’

Archer’s hand still clung to his mother’s, and tenderly, she had let go.

Archer watched Maman as she regarded the Swanns. ‘Severin, Astrea, a pleasure as always,’ she said finally with a curt and brisk nod and an extended hand for them both to shake. This was the reason she had given up most of the fortune she would inherit to become a cartographer and run off to Scotland. This was the formality she couldn’t stand, and Archer knew. Her eyes fleeted to the Swann heir, ‘Adrian, you're quite the young gentleman now,’ She then turned towards the Swann heiress, her lips pursed, as if criticising how she was raised. 'Arianna, you've grown into a pretty young lady,' she remarked, not without genuine emotion. Archer could agree, if only they had left better impressions of each other the last two times they’ve met.

Archer then bowed slightly towards the two adults as his mother finished, his head dipping. ‘Lord Swann,’ he said first, nodding to Arianna’s father, before turning to the regal woman and saying, ‘Lady Swann,’ with the same placid nod. He turned his eyes to Adrian, the elder Swann heir, 'Adrian, a pleasure,' he said, his tone looser than the one he had used to address the Drumstrang student's parents. Archer’s gaze fixed to the young heiress last. Her lips were adorned with numerous more layers of lip gloss than necessary - it was no surprise. A wayward and slightly coy smile graced Archer's lips as he remembered how they had first met. It was during yet another gathering, some years ago, among two children who detested socialisation. But there was no need to dwell on the past. Remembering the circumstance, Archer looked into the depths of Arianna’s emerald green eyes, bent down slightly, then gently lifted her gloved hand, placing atop it a delicate, brief kiss, his lips barely touching the fabric of her glove. ‘Miss Arianna Swann,’ he said finally as he straightened, ‘Lovely seeing you again.’

Perhaps this night would be something more than the usual song and dance of waltzing and desserts.

1: my dear

@Arianna Swann

Edits made:
1. wizarding transportation changed to train
2. inclusion of Adrian (very sorry that I had forgot him!)

─────────────────────.xJuly 23 2023 | @Archer Duncanx.─────────────────────

“Lord Duncan. Lady Duncan.” Arianna smiled at the adults, before curtseying politely. “Thank you for the compliment.” Said the girl cordially. She was then forced to face the Duncan heir. That boy. Arianna’s face flushed, but she regained her rigid posture, managing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Still feeling rather strange, Arianna watched as her father smiled demurely at the woman. “Ah, Miss Duncan! You look absolutely stunning tonight! How has the family been doing?” Severin angled the woman away from Arianna and Archer, sending a withering stare back down at the girl.

The message was clear. She was to talk to Archer or else. She didn’t want to know the “or else.” Clearing her throat, willing her glare to vanish, Arianna sighed. Small talk was always boring, but it was expected at parties, when one’s father was watching to make sure they didn’t mess up and accidentally start another pureblood war.

“Wonderful,” Arianna’s voice was a drawl, her chin pointed upwards, mouth clad in a coy smile that was undoubtedly not meant for welcome. Still, there was nothing that seemed menacing about her mannerisms, but the underlying note was there. “I am sure you will find my company most welcoming.” Her eyes sparkled, a hint of boredom sliding into her sneer, as she pulled a strand of hair from it’s braid, twisting it around in her hands, before smirking at Archer. “Might I say your hair is looking lovely today, Mister Duncan. The hag next door must be an excellent hairdresser, that is.”

His eyes still lay on the youngest member of the Swann household as she hesitated slightly, before regaining her composure. A small frown danced across Archer's brow as Arianna did not find it in her interest to greet him. Of course she had not. Only a smile that didn't even reach her eyes. He felt his hopes for their friendship, if one could call it that, falter in his heart.

As Lord Swann strategically angled Maman away from the two children, despite her discomfort, Archer started to feel at a loss for proper social interaction, similar to most of the other gatherings he had attended in the past. His own discomfort increased as the politician glared pointedly, even though it was directed at Arianna rather than him, making it clear that the heiress was to make acquaintances for the family. The Swann household was the literal epitome of the strict, elitist, pureblood household. It was no surprise.

Under Lord Swann's wilting stare, Archer noticed Arianna force the glare to withdraw from her eyes. 'Wonderful,' she said, the sarcasm plain as a cloudless summer noon. 'I am sure you will find my company most welcoming,' she continued flatly, boredom glinting in her ebony eyes, as she twirled her braid, her visage adorned with a clearly apathetic smirk.

'I already do, no doubt,' Archer replied cannily, unflustered by the heiress's petty sarcasm, an amused smile playing at his lips, accompanied by a slightly mischievous sparkle in his dark hazel eyes. Arianna had never been amiable, but always in a way Archer found more droll than he would like to admit. Of course, that was no reason to play into her little traps like a fly diving into honey.

'Might I say your hair is looking lovely today, Mister Duncan. The hag next door must be an excellent hairdresser, that is,' Arianna said, not missing a beat of the satire.

'You have quite the witty tongue, Miss Swann,' Archer responded, his voice as cordial as ever, with genuine complementation, not seeing a necessity to get entwined in a quarrel during an event meant for celebration and socialisation. He smiled pleasantly before swiftly taking a sip of the cup of coffee from the drinks table, offering Arianna the satisfaction of running his free hand through his hair. He swallowed it with a slight grimace as the unexpected sweetness rested upon his tongue, not quite accustomed to the taste. 'Perhaps tell that dear little house elf of yours to hold back a tad on the sugar.'

Archer's eyes flitted away from the Swann heiress, hoping for more pleasant company. Unlike Arianna, he had no need to dwell on her, no orders to be fulfilled to acquaint another member of the pureblood society from a household of similar esteem. Papa had hoped he could get some pleasure out of the gathering by making some genuine friends, or at least engaging in something slightly more entertaining than the shallowest of small talks. When a miscellany of stranger's faces greeted him back, Archer's brow creased, his eyes eventually turning back to the white-hair in front of him. 'What curses have you learnt lately?' Archer inquired desperately hoping to change the topic to something much more intriguing than coffee.

@Arianna Swann