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Wallace Bixby for Sloane Bixby.
...tfw your little sister makes the house team before you do.
He has touched my ankle and seen me with my hair down (not intentionally, of course!), so I'm pretty sure I already know what it feels like to be married.Helga Scamander in Helga's Boy Book
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Complete seven threads where your character displays each of the Seven Deadly Sins — Pride, Lust, Sloth, Envy, Wrath, Gluttony, and Greed!

Portrait of a "Lady"
August 12th, 1890 — Some Square with a Fountain, London
@Ester Montgomery

After his mother's letters, Thomas had avoided London nearly all summer, despite his desire to visit shops that existed outside of Hogsmeade and the library.  However, he couldn't keep himself away for much longer.  He had begun the process of his transformation, and he wanted to be sure to cross reference books to ensure that he would be ready for the next steps come the next full moon.  His search had been successful, and his previous findings completely correct, but he was anxious that he would misread something, despite pouring over the same information for two straight years.

With much on his mind, Thomas had left the library and started in the direction of Diagon Alley, but, at some point, he had taken a wrong turn.  He found himself down a side street he didn't recognize.  He only noticed he had strayed from his usual path once relative silence reached his ears.  He glanced around and spotted various muggles behind him, but not so far off that he shouldn't hear the hum of their distant chatter.  That was strange, indeed.

Ahead, the side street spilled into a square with a fountain at its center.  The only noise he seemed to hear was that of water.  Curiosity getting the better of him, Thomas wandered closer.  A man with a painter's easel came into view, causing the boy to quirk his eyebrow.  All this privacy just for a still life?  However, his gaze wandered, and he realized a woman sat on the edge of the fountain, dressed in a way that wasn't meant for polite company.

A woman he recognized straight away.

Thomas inhaled so sharply that the mandrake leaf dislodged from where he'd tucked it into his cheek and was sucked straight toward the back of his throat.  The teen doubled over, coughing so fiercely that it would be impossible for the pair not to notice his presence.  He should have ran the moment he saw her, but, instead, he stood choking on a damned leaf that he'd been drooling on since the fucking 31st.  Leave it to his mother to ruin his hard work.

Merlin's fucking shit boogers.
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   Ester Montgomery

[Image: 6RQbibH.png]
By the awesome MJ <3
Fenny had given her a much-needed top up, so last night Ester had hit the laudanum rather heavily; she had slept for who-knew-how many hours, but she was now not quite mentally awake, and she felt sure she still had the dark circles under her eyes to show for her torpor, even beneath the layer of make up.

Still, the painter had moved on from her mostly bare legs and was currently more preoccupied with her bosom - she leant a little further forwards at the fountain’s edge when the painter gestured at her with his brush. One of Christobal’s artist friends; the series was for a version of The Fountain of Fair Fortune that would never have found itself in Beedle the Bard.

Hence the fountain, and sitting her out here in these theatrical underthings in a muggle area, and so as to spare them the unsuspecting muggle onlookers the painter had shielded the square from them with a clever spell. So Ester had been quite listlessly bored, and it took her a long time - too long - to notice the visitor who had managed to wander in.

And even longer to recognise him (from his portrait; to be perfectly honest, Ester wasn’t sure she’d have known it was him without that photograph he’d begrudgingly sent her), so that when recognition lit her eyes, her son - Merlin, he was almost as tall as his father, though terribly thin - was bent over coughing.

“Thomas!” she gasped, getting up without quite the level of urgency she might’ve had sober; she hadn’t the faintest idea why he was choking so. She tossed a robe over her shoulders (although it hardly helped, being rather sheer) and darted over to him. “What a surprise!” Ester added brightly, as though at the very last moment he had accepted an invitation to dinner. She did frown at the choking, though, and began considering whether to rub his back as she had done when he was a baby on her shoulder and needed burping. (Did teenagers need that? It seemed unusual.) “Are you alright?”

[Image: HwIwfpW.png]
Was this going to be how he died? Choking on a mandrake leaf in some obscure part of London while his mother watched? He could see the headlines now. "Idiot Boy Chokes to Death After Discovering His Estranged Mother Clad in Little More Than a Handkerchief." Pornstar's Spawn Startled to Death." "Prude Perishes."

At least, if he died, he wouldn't have to suffer through the embarrassment that was Ester Montgomery.

After a few more, harrowing moments of gasping, the leaf became dislodged, and he subsequently swallowed it. There went all his hard work. Now he would have to fucking start over. Luckily for his mother, Thomas was too busy leveling his breathing to fully fume. His eyes were watery from all the hacking.

In face, it took him a moment to even register Ester's words.

A surprise? She sounded as if he had just dropped by for tea. A visit where his mother was wearing something that had just as much fabric as a tea towel. The teen tried to avert his eyes; the robe she tried to cover herself with failing in making the situation any more comfortable.

Was he alright? Of course he wasn't alright? What in Merlin's fucking name did she think was okay about the situation? What the Hell was she doing in muggle London dressed like she was going to welcome sailors into her bed?

"I'm fine," he begrudgingly snapped. "What---" are you doing here? Are you thinking? Are you wearing??? He couldn't will any of his questions out of his mouth.

This was why people learned to fucking apparate, wasn't it.
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   Elias Grimstone

[Image: 6RQbibH.png]
By the awesome MJ <3
He seemed angry, which Ester couldn’t fathom. If she had invited him - which would have required him to show any speck of enthusiasm for the idea of visiting her in London one day in their letters - of course she would not have induced him to come along to this!

It would be far too boring for him, all the sitting around; painters did take their bloody time. (But perhaps he might some free merchandise? Postcards to disperse discreetly around Hogwarts. He was on the verge of manhood, after all - heaven knew his classmates would be desperate to get their grubby hands on any material they could - and he was a clever boy, perhaps even inclined to business -

No, Ester. Wrong tree to be barking up, perhaps. Priorities, darling. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said promptly at his annoyed declaration of being fine, switching into her motherly mode (or at least the vague pieces she remembered of it) and using this opportunity to assess him from head to toe. “Were you eating a leaf, dear?” She inquired, in total bemusement. “I hope James and his fussy mother are feeding you more than salad all summer. You’re a growing boy!” And they ought to let him fill out properly! He played quidditch, didn’t he? Poor thing would need the energy. Ester waggled a finger to look suitably stern about this, and then squeezed his arm in demonstration of his skinny build.

[Image: HwIwfpW.png]
It was for everyone's best interest that Ester had decided against giving her son free merchandise. That was a surefire way for him to completely erupt into a fit of rage that would likely wind up with his father's department being summoned and/or to suddenly up and change his name and disappear in the Swiss Alps.

Merlin, what the absolute fuck had his mother been thinking? It was one thing if she decided to have herself painted in such a way behind closed doors. It was another for her to do so in public. While the spell deterred muggles, wizardfolk could traipse right in like he had. Thomas just hoped that his mother was so far removed from society now that, if that were to happen, nobody would recognize her for who she was.

"I wasn't eating it. I'm meant to hold it in my mouth from one full moon to the next in order to become an animagus, but clearly that has resulted in failure." The look he gave her was one of derision; he blamed her for such a blunder. If she had been clothed properly, he was certain he wouldn't have choked.

"And I assure you father and grandmother are feeding me properly." Not that you would know. The heat in his face increased at Ester's mention of his grandmother being fussy. She, of course, was, but only he was allowed to point such things out.

Pulling away from his mother's grasp, he leveled her with an annoyed and incredibly startled expression. "What are you doing here?" He didn't mean London, and the teen gestured widely toward the painter and their general location. His gaze then landed on her terrible state of dress, too petrified to slap a label on it.

[Image: 6RQbibH.png]
By the awesome MJ <3
Oh,” Ester said, as though she had any idea at all of what her son was talking about. She had her OWL in it, and had not taken or used or much considered Transfiguration since, so you could hardly blame her!

Though it seemed Thomas was blaming her, for something or other. “That seems like a very impractical task,” she remarked, of the mandrake leaf. How could anyone get by for a month like that? (She daren’t ask how long he had had it in his, in case he said he’d only been a day away. She had better not give him too many more things to have to beg forgiveness for.)

If she could sense his affront at - well, everything - she let it slide off her like melted butter, not letting it impact her mood. After all, this was not quite how she had envisioned it, but she had wanted him to visit her in London one day.

“It’s a very important artistic series, terribly aesthetic,” Ester proclaimed sagely, gesturing towards the unfinished canvas upon the easel some ways behind her, “and Frank over there utterly despairs being confined within four walls and with no true settings to draw from. And you can’t have the Fountain of Fair Fortune without the fountain, after all, can you?” She raised her eyebrows, searching for her son’s agreement with a hopeful smile. “And what are you doing here?” She returned brightly, skimming over her state of (un)dress without apologising for it. “Shall we go find a spot of lunch?”

[Image: HwIwfpW.png]
An impractical task. Thomas could feel the anger simmering in his chest, and he wasn't so sure he would be able to control his mouth if it bubbled over. Was that what she truly thought about his aspirations to become an animagus? It was impractical? Sure, the leaf was inconvenient, but it was for a greater purpose. Surely, even an idiot could realize that.

The incredulous look that crossed his face only deepened as his mother explained exactly why she was there. The Fountain of Fair Fortune was a tale that nearly all wizarding children knew, and he was fairly certain that none of the characters were dressed as Ester was. If their aim was to create some sort of pornographic version of the tale, they were succeeding.

Thomas almost succeeded in skimming over the topic altogether, but his mother's subsequent questions had him unable to hold back his commentary. "While you're wearing that?!" He shot back. He didn't even explain that he'd been lost. Her lunch invitation was the only thing he could seem to focus on. No respectable establishment would allow them inside. Not that he particularly wished to prolong this reunion.

[Image: 6RQbibH.png]
By the awesome MJ <3

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