The promised short story of Theo's time in the social season for the Inglorious Bastards's Regency in Diagon Alley. I apologize for the lack of activity for the past few months, and I know, it's been a long time since I published new content, and I promise that I have been trying to look for time for myself and with writing. Work's been hectic and the holiday season is filled with agendas in both work and at home, and there has been a lot of parties.
So, for this early Holiday gift, I present to you Theo and Imogen's story in Regency in Diagon Alley.
~*~
1839
A debutant’s presentation should be the least of Imogen’s concerns considering the state of her mother’s homeland, and her relatives that were reported to arrive in Father’s estate within the week, yet she can’t help but let out another long sigh as she saw herself in the reflection through the glass window of the carriage; the white the golden crown atop her perfectly placed hair which two maids had to pull and brush just to tame my curls, the light blush placed on her tan and full cheeks that made her look more like a child than a debuting witch who just turned one and twenty a few weeks ago, and she does not want to look at her nose – it would always look too big when she breathed, which is always. Imogen despised her nose that was often picked on by her classmates in Hogwarts. Then the gown, she does not exactly hate it, but she much prefer something else than white, which symbolizes purity. How foolish.
Mother said she should be grateful for the privilege she had, for the rank and blood Father blessed her. Not all witches were born into nobility, while others had to work until their hands have grown calluses, all she had to do was smile, stand tall and straight, dress beautifully, and be the perfect wife. Whatever that suppose to be. She did try to look for an exact meaning of how to be a perfect wife but can’t find it in any book, and Mother’s explanation has not been very helpful at all. No matter how many times she has drilled it into Imogen’s mind.
“Sit up straight, Imogen, you’ll ruin your dress,” Mother chastised softly. Her accent was prominent as she spoke. Mother, after all, was not born and raised in England, she came from an island colonized by Spain in the Southeast Asia, The Philippine Islands.
Mother started pressing on the dress, trying to flatten it out. “And don’t lean back too much or you’ll ruin your hair.”
“How about I just float, that way nothing would be ruined,” Imogen remarked with a supposed innocent smile which Mother saw through and sent her a narrowed gaze. That made her shrink back into her seat and mutter an apology. Short as she may, standing only 5’3” but one look from her would have any witch or wizard – young or old – feeling small. On the other note, Father chuckled heartily.
“Darling, Mo is perfect in any way.” Father reassured her. “You are more nervous than she is.”
“Maybe it’s because she is not.” Mother sighed. “Honestly, Imogen, are you at least excited?”
Imogen could not help it, and gave her an incredulous look. “Mama, what person is excited to be sold off to the marriage market.”
Mother sighed once again, this time, she opened her fan to give herself some air. The fan was old, older than Imogen. Made from buri palms, it was a gift from her grandfather who made the elegant looking fan, Grandfather was an artist she said – one of his many professions – and made the fan for her to remember her home before she went with her aunt and uncle to England where she could live and have a chance for a good magical education, as in the Philippines only those with Spanish blood and the rich and those with power could acquire magical education. While her mother’s family were rich, they gained an unfavorable reputation to the Aurors and Friars who run Magical Manila.
Imogen have one of her own, sent by her grandfather upon learning of my existence, he made sure that the design reflected the other half of her heritage. A reminder of who she was.
Filipinos, Father said, were a prideful lot, especially when it comes to their culture. Who wasn’t? She would say, and he would always laugh at that and ruffle her hair. But he was not wrong. Growing up, while having a governess to teach about her English side, Mother took it upon herself to teach Imogen about Filipino heritage and made sure that all her dresses were influenced by their fashion.
So, unlike most witches today, her sleeves were sharper, and the shape was an arch than the usual puff-sleeves. The bodice gave more emphasis bosoms’ shape, and the skirt was far larger, flowing much freely than the others, which reminded her of the saya that Mama wore every day at home.
The sudden feathery touch on the cheek averted her gaze from Mother and to Father who laughed lightly at the jumpy reaction. “And your Mama thinks you’re not nervous.”
“I was worrying about my curtsy later… and the dozen possible misfortunes that might happen.” She told him, jokingly.
“And what would those be?”
“How about I make an utter fool of myself and trip on my skirt? Or what if this feather tickles my nose and I sneeze in the middle of the walk? Or how about I lose my balance in my curtsy?”
“First of all. You will not trip because I have seen you do your curtsy since the day you learned how, and you could do so without fail.” He started counting with his fingers. “Secondly, you will not trip because no one who can dance the Tinikling could trip.” He grinned at that, even mother smiled at that comment. “And lastly, if you sneeze… we could blame the summer allergies – the pollen.”
“And what if someone laughs?”
“Then that means you made a very dull presentation entertaining.” He laughed. “Not to worry, my darling, you will do fine. You are perfect just the way you are.” He leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Now, go look out the window, you will see something that might relax your nerves.”
Going to the side of the carriage, to the direction of the west, there Imogen saw the most glorious sight. Kieran Keep. The crown jewel sitting atop the hill that overlooks Clach Dhubh – one of the most bustling cities for trade and culture in Magical Britain. The architecture of the manor was a mix of the classical age and goth, that blended splendidly. It was a mix of the castles found in Scotland with a hint of Greek pillars and Roman arches. Then beyond the manor was the garden where a space was dedicated for hyacinths, and the supposed Fountain of Fair Fortune was hidden in the maze, then there were the creatures – phoenixes and pegasi flew across their skies, unicorns ran across the hills.
The sight of Kieran Keep had Imogen remember two of the Kierans, one of which was a close friend of hers who was also to be presented this season as well.
“It seems, the Kierans are just about to head to the Glass Dome,” Father mused as he spotted the grand carriage placed before the gates where it would be pulled by dragons. Of course. Leave it to the Kierans to always make an entrance.
Afterall, knowing the family’s reputation and through her friend, Imogen knew that this season would be far more interesting than the last ones with all three children of age and most probably were joining the Marriage Market.
~*~
The hall of Castle Solomon was crowded with nobility. The debutants and their presenters were called upon to the room before the door of leading to the Glass Dome. Upon arriving, the Roths were not given much time to interact as the staff instructed the large crowd of debutants – all in their white frock, similar in terms of color, but unique in design – into the room where they would give their names to the caller and wait for their turn.
Standing amongst the young women, Imogen let out a shaky breath as she saw each of witches she was to “compete” in this season. To secure a marriage was the main goal of the Market, but to truly win was to marry someone of high rank. A duke perhaps. Unfortunately, there were only a few who were bequeathed with the title of Dukes and Duchess by the Warlock. From seven, four were married, one was old and blind, one refuses to marry at all, and the other was a Duchess. But only one had a young heir who happens to be of marrying age and is the most eligible bachelor ever since he turned seventeen. When he came of age.
“Mo!” A young woman called from the crowd. Dodging the other witches, a witch emerged with a bright smile on her face.
“Sofia!” Imogen greeted and took her friend’s hands. “You look stunning.” She noted. The young witch was beautiful even without the elegance. It was a sort of exotic beauty that Imogen always believed was because of her nymph-blood. It brought some sort of ancient look in Sofia that was also timeless. Though their dress were similar in terms of color, Sofia’s own had a mix of her father’s heritage – a white muslin dress fashioned with sleeves of gold feathers that trail to the breasts of her bodice, the skirt’s hem had the pattern of thistles embroidered with gold, and behind her was the trail that had the family colors of gray, white, and gold. Sofia’s hair was fashioned to how goddesses wore their hair, the front had curls framing her face, and at the back her locks were pulled to some sort of complicated coiffeur, and atop was a golden tiara where the feather was attached. Then fastened at the upper left breast was the brooch that bore the Kieran family sigil: the unicorn framed by an ouroboros.
“You look so beautiful,” Sofia told her. “Your dress especially! Oh – Lady Roth, apologies.” She curtsied before Imogen’s mother.
“My lady, there is no need to apologize,” Mother slightly curtsied at the young woman who had a rank higher than her, as she was the daughter of a duchess.
“Are you ready for the presentation?” Sofia asked Imogen.
“I just want this to be over, if I were asked.” Imogen sighed. “Unfortunately, no one has asked.”
Sofia laughed lightly. Everything about her was perfect, even her laugh sounded heavenly, it was unfathomable to Imogen, but it was one of the many things she loved Sofia so.
“Remember,” Sofia turned to a whisper. “You don’t have to hear your fortune if you do not wish for it.” It was an advice that the Duchess gave her daughter years before, and one that Sofia told Imogen while they hid under the covers of Imogen’s bed in the Slytherin fifth-year girl’s dormitory.
“I will, but who does not want to have an advantage in this blood-thirsty crowd?” Imogen teased. “I swear, I saw Polly Chapman growling at every witch that comes across her. I’m pretty sure she’s growling at you now as we speak.”
“Or maybe she’s growling at you.”
Imogen rolled her eyes. “How are you brothers? Romulus? The last I heard of him he was bitten by a dragon?”
Sofia barked a laugh. The only time that the women turned to her, startled. “Please, that’s what he tells everyone, but truth is, he was bitten by a kelpie.”
“And why is he telling everyone he was bitten by a dragon?”
“Pride? You know how Gryffindors are.”
Emerging from the crowd to join her daughter, the Duchess of Danu greeted Imogen and her mother with a bright smile. Imogen and Lady Roth curtsied at the sight of the Duchess. Carina Black Kieran, a woman in her mid-forties yet still has the youthful look on her, truly earned the title of Diamond of the Season for two years. Her dress donned their family colors of gray, white, and gold, with white being the dominant one as it was a uniform of sort for all presenters and debutants, her gown was styled to have the sash of their family with the unicorn and ouroboros used as fastenings.
Looking at them, Imogen could see where Sofia inherited her beauty and confidence. Since in Hogwarts, Sofia have always had a loud presence, her simply standing in a room, quietly, still made a noise that had every girl or boy looking at her. Who wouldn’t? Sofia was the daughter of the most powerful woman and the most powerful wizard in Magical Britain, though she is third in line to her mother’s succession, there were whispers that her grandfather – Regulus Black – had thoughts of choosing her and her brother as his own successors for Londinium. Who would not want to marry the future Duchess of the largest duchy in Magical England and have a direct connection to Danu?
“It is so good to see you again, Imogen,” Carina greeted them. “And Lady Roth, how is Lord Roth?”
“He is well, Your Grace, and I am sure he is in the Dome right now, waiting for all of this to end.” Lady Roth laughed lightly.
“Well, he is not the only one.” The duchess sighed. “Theodore has not been in a chipper mood since he realized that Sofia was to be presented.”
“Papa is acting like a child, if you ask me.” Sofia commented. “It’s unfair, really, how come he is not like this when Theo or Rom had their “rite of passage”?”
The Rite of Passage. It was a made-up tradition by those in the Den where boys were to swim the ice-cold river in the valley and reach Alcander’s Island, climb the top of the mountain, and drink from the spring. It began as some sort of game until one of the Kholer brothers started telling the boys that it was then they become men. Carina tried to stop the rite, but boys still participate in them and some almost died. Since she cannot stop them, she decided to make an event of it where Tamers would be stationed to monitor the participants and give aid, and girls were also allowed to join – but only a few participated in them. It was done when Martis was about to start. The celebration of spring.
When Theo and Romulus were both thirteen, the boys joined the Rite. They swam the ice-cold waters faster than most, Romulus especially as he was more in-touched with his nymph blood than his older brother who was more faery. While both brothers had more advantage in the harsh elements, Romulus was faster than Theo as he was more in touch with his nymph blood than his older brother who was more touched with the long line of faeries like their father. It was a story they told when they returned to Hogwarts, while Theo was more humble with his tales and told his friends, Romulus proudly broadcasted it in every room, every class, and every time he entered the Great Hall.
And Imogen remembered Sofia always sending a catapult of potatoes to her twin’s face whenever he starts the tale. Then it would be followed by the twins getting into a brawl and their older cousins – Teddy and Scorpius – stopping them before they destroy the Great Hall.
Sofia said her farewell to Imogen and joined her mother to the line, as the presentation was to start, leaving Imogen with Lady Roth nearing the front. Imogen hated the fact that they were placed in the near front, she had hoped to be one of the last, at least if there was some sort of disruption, she won’t be one of the few who has made a fool of herself.
The first to be called was Alice Longbottom, presented by her mother, the Duchess Hannah Longbottom. Followed by a young witch who was a daughter of a Viscount, then a daughter of a Baron. As the queue lessened, Imogen’s nerves started to kick in, her heart was beating – pounding in her chest. Every step she took closer to the door, all the bad possibilities came to mind. What if she does trip? What if her curtsy has her falling to the ground? What if the feather tickled her nose? What if her dress suddenly falls of? What if her shoe breaks? Her hair gives out, not new given her curls were so stubborn. What if, what if, what if, she listed all the what ifs –
“Mama, please, don’t make me do this,” Imogen turned to Lady Roth.
“Imogen, we have already given your name –”
“Please, it’s not too late.”
“Mo.”
“I promise, I will attend every ball there is – I will make up for it –”
“Mo,” her mother whispered.
“—I would even dance with the foulest and oldest man there is –”
“Mo!”
“— even that old Duke who farts in soirees – just don’t make me make a fool of myself –”
“Imogen!” Lady Roth hissed; a forced smile plastered on her face. “It’s our turn.”
Turning to the door, Imogen was greeted with the Glass Dome, the crowd of nobles standing there watching her – and to make it far worse, all the girls were also watching her. And worst of all, she could see a couple of her friends and her bullies snickering at her from both crowds… at least her father kept a smile on his face.
The caller cleared his throat. “Presenting, once again, Miss Imogen Roth. Presented by the honorable Viscountess…”
It seems she did not have to worry about tripping or sneezing or falling because before any of it could happen, Imogen has already made a scene, and one that none of these people would ever forget.
~*~
It was not a surprise that Sofia Astoria was dubbed the Diamond of the Season, even when she was the only one who refused to hear the prophecy by whispering something to Madam Solomon when the witch-moirai came to her ear, then simply kissed the debutant’s forehead. And with that title, she only made herself the target of every bachelor in search of a bride and became a threat every debutant in the season. Including which were her friends and cousins.
In the opening ball in the Glass Dome, mothers were already planning their course of action as the only daughter of Carina and Theodore Kieran was asked by the most eligible bachelors to dances, there was never a moment that the young witch was left idle in the room, and her dance card was already full before the hour ended. It was best that the witch was taken from the market as soon as she could so the men could divert their attention to the next best option they have. The mere thought of it made Imogen ill.
She was glad that Sofia was dubbed the Diamond, she never expected it would be her especially after that presentation. But she cannot say that the other debutants share her thoughts. Polly Chapman certainly was not happy and was glaring at Sofia’s way. The man she had set her eyes on simply dropped her advances and asked Sofia for a dance.
As for her, the only dance she had was one with Scorpius Malfoy – the heir to the Marques Draco Malfoy – and it was a pity dance with a friend and so she could have a line of callers after her embarrassing start of the season. Then she was left there, standing by the large window to have the cool night breeze, watching as the ladies flirted with bachelors, and bachelors looking for their next bride either to fulfil their duty or to up themselves in rank.
And speaking of Scorpius Malfoy, one of his cousins was trapped with Polly Chapman’s conversation.
As the night continued, with Imogen spending her time alone by the window, drinking more glasses of lemonade than she should, her mind started to drift to the prophecy she received. Imogen did not want to admit it, but Sofia was right about one thing. Sometimes it was best not to learn one’s future. Madam Solomon’s prophecy for her was not threatening or bad, but it was vague that it had her pondering about her future and this duke she was to marry. It had her worrying that it could be the old man that was glaring at her earlier at the presentation. Thankfully her father loves her to not agree to such a match.
“Why do you have the face that looks like you want to shite, but the shite won’t come out?” The familiar alluring voice pulled Imogen from her deep thoughts.
Theodore Regulus Black Kieran stood at her side, refilling his glass of lemonade. The young man was dressed in the finest frock, his coat embroidered with gold thread to make the pattern of thistles at the hem. And like his mother and father, and the rest of his family, he had the gold brooch of a unicorn framed by an ouroboros.
“My lord,” Imogen curtsied.
“Miss Roth,” Theo handed the glass of lemonade to her.
She thanked him for it. “Not drinking tonight?”
“I am.” Theo raised a brow at her.
“You know what I meant.”
He chuckled. “Well, someone must be sober, and I doubt my brother would be by the end of this soiree.” He gestured to the where Romulus was drinking glasses of champagne with James Potter II – or Jaime as they called him – and Fabian Weasley. Just before they could finish the entire tray, Viktor came and chastised the young men, and dragged them to where their mothers stood waiting with frowns on their faces.
“I don’t think Rom would be getting any more after that.” Imogen mused.
“You underestimate Romulus, Roth.” Theo drank from the glass. “Is it just me or is the Duke of Llywarch glaring at you?”
He was. The old duke who had a balding head, and fading eyesight was glaring at Imogen, and has been whenever he spotted her. She took Theo’s arm and adjusted his place to stand before her, blocking the old man’s gaze from her.
“I forgot to congratulate you on your presentation earlier, Roth.” Theo said with a teasing smirk. “You do know how to make a memorable first impression.”
She groaned and rolled her eyes. “I will be hearing it on the ride home. It’s bad enough that Scorpius gave me a pity-dance.”
“A pity dance?”
“Yes. He even admitted that he was dancing with me because he felt bad seeing me standing here. Alone.”
“Well, Scorp has always have a soft-spot for anything.”
“But Polly Chapman.”
“But Polly Chapman,” he agreed.
“And speaking of Polly Chapman. I saw you earlier with her. How was it?”
Theo laughed awkwardly. “I was lucky to have Aurelius to help me escape. He is now dealing with Chapman as we speak.”
“And by dealing, you mean…”
“Well, considering she does not have anyone in her dance card just yet, he invited her to a dance. So, she cannot say no.”
“You are evil.” Imogen lightly hit him on the shoulder. “So, anyone who has caught your eye? You’re of marrying age now – you have been since you came to be seventeen. You must have found someone you might like after eight years of flying by social seasons.’
“I have never been one to enjoy the social seasons.”
“Says the man who I recall drank the entire bottle of my father’s best wine in our last soiree.” Imogen pointed out with a smirk.
“There’s a difference between enjoying the drinks and, actually, enjoying the soiree. Even Mother and Father are not fans of this. And after seeing you make an utter fool of yourself earlier, you agree.”
That smirk. Imogen was sure that Theodore Regulus Black Kieran has captured many hearts with that smirk and broken so many when he never their advances. Even she fell for that smirk back when she was a first year – and he a sixth-year– who had a fancied him in secret. And it was also the same year that she experienced a broken heart when someone from her House told Theo of her crush, and all he did was awkwardly laugh and messed with her hair.
After Theo left Hogwarts, that little crush disappeared as Imogen met other boys her age. Still, no one has come close to the young heir’s beauty. Theo was handsome, the young man inherited mostly his father’s looks, but it was mixed with his mothers, too. Much like his siblings, Theo had a golden tan complexion, he had a sharp jaw, a perfect pointed nose that was completely opposite to hers, full brows, long lashes, and sharp silver eyes that always looked like it had a fire inside. And like his siblings, Theo had a look of something ancient in him, one that Imogen knew he got from his Achillia side.
“Well, no point in denying it,” Imogen raised her glass at him in agreement. “So, my lord,” Theo cringed at the title. He never liked being addressed as such. Even when he was a boy. “How is your apprenticeship?”
“Which one?” Theo teased. “I’m an apprentice in many things – I’m currently an apprentice of a duchess, a bookkeeper, an Auror, a lawyer, my father, and a dragonologist and a magizoologist.”
“Did you just refer to your father as some sort of profession you’re learning about?”
“Being Theodore Achilles Nott Black Kieran is a job that I must learn as well. He handles more than just the household, but as well as the other duties that Mother needs him to see to. It is a complicated task. And you? I hear from Sofia that you had a concert in the opera. Apologies if I was unable to see it, I had business in Greece that time.”
Imogen sighed at the mention of the concert. Months ago, she was given a chance to perform, playing the cello in front of a large audience, but as much as she wanted to pursue that career, the maestro she wanted to impress that night rejected her, even when she had performed in a crowd. She was just not good enough. She had hoped that her chance to join the renowned orchestra in Magical Britain so she may escape the expectations of society of joining the marriage market, but it seems that did not work.
“It was fine. Finally fulfilled my dream to perform in front of a stage.” She answered.
“You don’t sound pleased.”
“I am. Truly.”
Maybe it was the frown on her face or the sudden shift of tone in her voice because Theo called for her attention and pointed to the direction of James Potter II, who raced towards Sofia before another suitor could ask her to a dance. Then they danced, and more than once did Jaime stepped on Sofia’s foot making the young woman wince and ask for a break. Theodore came to his daughter’s aid and helped her to a chair where he could heal her throbbing toes.
“How many toenails do you think she lost?” Theo mused.
Imogen turned to the eldest Kieran and saw him with a mischievous smile. A smile that would have any debuting witch fall head over heels for. “You are evil, Lord Kieran. That’s your sister!” she playfully hit his shoulder.
“You have a powerful punch, Roth!” Theo laughed heartily.
She pouted mockingly. “Poor Lordling Kieran.”
Before Theo could retort, Polly Chapman appeared with her mother, Pansy Parkinson Chapman. Theo glanced at Imogen first before facing the women with a practiced smile.
“Lord Kieran, you have grown so much,” Lady Chapman began. “I remember when you were still a boy, always clutching on your mother’s skirts.”
“I remember as well, Lady Chapman.” Theo replied.
“I’m sure you remember my daughter, Polly. You were schoolmates, yes?”
Polly Chapman curtsied, her head was dipped down and then slowly looked at the Marques through her lashes, then waved her fan just above her bosom. It made Imogen cough. If Lady Chapman and Polly sent her an annoyed look, she did not know nor did she care. But she did saw Theo press his lips to stop a laugh.
“I cannot say that I do.” Theo admitted. “I know of Miss Chapman, but I’m sure Miss Roth knows her – they were in the same year I believe.”
Imogen turned to Theo and sent him a look and he simply winked at her way before gulping the last of his drink. “Polly,” Imogen greeted.
“Imogen.” Polly spoke, coldly. “What a memorable presentation. You do have a way to make a first impression.”
“I was told that first impressions are important.” Imogen shrugged.
“Miss Roth, if I recall you are a musician, yes?” Lady Chapman spoke. “What instrument do you play?”
She fidgeted with her glass. “The cello, but I also play the piano, then the viola, then I have been studying the guitar.”
“Really?” Theo’s brows shot up. “How daring, Miss Roth.”
“Mama would prefer if I stuck with the piano, but there is something about the guitar that has enchanted me.”
“I would very much like to hear you play. How about the harp?”
“I plan to try that as well – I heard you play the harp, my lord?”
“I do.”
As their conversation was starting to ignore the Chapmans’ presence, Lady Chapman piped in and said, “Polly is excellent in the piano forte, and has a lovely voice. In fact, this soiree we are to host she will be performing for our guests.”
“I am looking forward to seeing that, Miss Chapman.” Theo dipped his head.
“My lord,” Polly started. “The dance is just about to end, and there is still room for one more in my dance card.”
Theo smiled awkwardly. “Unfortunately, I have already asked Miss Roth to accompany me in this dance. If you will excuse us.” He took Imogen’s glass and placed it on the table, then he dragged her to the center where the others were paired up to dance – one of which was Sofia who decided to dance with Aurelius, she was tired with dancing with strangers and wanted to be with family. Taking her hand while the other was placed on her back, Theo led Imogen to the waltz.
“Glad to see that even the most eligible bachelors are in need of a pity dance to get them out of a persistent and blood-thirsty mama and a troll.” Imogen spoke in a hushed tone.
Theo almost burst out laughing if he had not caught himself. “Do you have something against Miss Chapman, Roth?”
“Maybe I do… I hate her and her loopy-hair – honestly, how did she do that. It looks like a sculpture; I could only imagine the pain of making her hair look like that.”
Theo laughed heartily. “Hopefully, this dance would be enough to erase the ton’s memory of your presentation. I could already see a few bachelors eyeing you, Roth.” He nodded to the direction of wizards watching them. She saw.
“Is that jealousy I hear, Lord Kieran?” Imogen teased.
“I will say yes if it helps boost your ego and confidence, Roth.”
She gasped dramatically. “I am flattered, Lordling Kieran.”