Author's Note: This is it, the last of the main season. I can't believe we've made it this far. That's thanks to my amazing team. :)
Written for...
Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. Team/Position: Holyhead Harpies, Seeker. Task: Trick - Leprechaun - Write about someone who thrives on manipulating or cheating others
Hogwarts Assignment #8. Lesson: Performing Arts, task 4. Task: Write about someone who values riches/possessions above anything else
Irresistible
1,086 words
Celia had known she was beautiful from a young age.
Her mother told her so almost every day when she was growing up, and it wasn't hard for the child to see the effects her beauty had on others. She always received more gifts than her grubby little sister, and people smiled at her more often. Sometimes Daddy even let her have a second dessert when Mummy wasn't looking.
As she grew older, Celia began enjoying other perks of her appearance. Boys did whatever she asked, falling over themselves to be in her presence. She enjoyed the attention and the gifts they spoiled her with.
Leaving Hogwarts and her adoring suitors behind had been difficult. Celia had hardly had to ask for anything she wanted for eighteen years, but suddenly she was expected to work and pay for her fine tastes. She had been a Ravenclaw; she had put in the work to get good grades and prove to the men in her life that she was the full package: brains and beauty. But where was that going to get her if none of them proposed?
She took a job at The Three Broomsticks as a waitress straight out of Hogwarts. The work was hard but it gave her a chance to meet new people and dazzle them into giving her big tips.
She met Carlo there. He was an Italian Ministry official in London on a business trip and had taken a day to visit the tourist hotspots. He was handsome and well-off, as best she could tell from the quality of the robes he wore. She fawned over him, lingering at his table to flirt. And when his lunch was done and he asked her to dinner, Celia thought she'd finally succeeded in her goal of finding someone to appreciate her for the rest of her life.
Their romance was brief, though Celia wasn't sure she was ever truly in love with Carlo. He did everything for her, transfering to the British Ministry and buying her expensive gifts. Their wedding was attended by no less than three hundred notable guests and talked about in four society magazines. It was a dream come true.
The child was an accident. Celia had never been maternal in the slightest. Becoming a mother meant having to shift her focus onto someone else and that simply wasn't who she was. But Carlo was excited to be a father, so she kept the baby for him, to make him happy. She hired nannies to keep little Blaise amused while she threw lavish parties and went on shopping sprees, and she told anyone who asked that her son was an absolute angel.
:-:
It was three years before things fell apart. Carlo's father had died unexpectedly and he wanted to move the family to Italy to be closer to his ailing mother. Celia simply refused. Leaving England would mean giving up her friends and status and her favorite stores.
It wasn't hard to get what she wanted from him. A divorce didn't look good on the front page of Witch Weekly, but threatening to keep his son from him meant that Carlo was willing to avoid legally ending their marriage and still pay for Celia's house and lifestyle.
:-:
Blaise was five when Celia had to sit him down and explain that his father wasn't coming back. The accident had been hard on everyone, but especially her. How was she meant to support herself and her son when Carlo was dead? What money he had was put in a trust for his son and the best Celia would get was a measly allowance for food and shelter while Blaise was underage. She couldn't survive on that!
An associate of Carlo's took pity on Celia, offering her a shoulder to cry on. She gladly played into Lawrence's perception of her, choking up as she talked about her late husband and how much she missed him.
"Blaise hasn't said a word since it happened," she said, wiping away a fake tear.
Playing the helpless widow eventually earned her husband number two. Lawrence had deep roots in England and a bank account large enough that Celia knew she would be happy to be his wife for a few years with no chance of moving.
But Lawrence took ill not even a year into their marriage and not even money could save him from death.
Celia really did cry at his funeral, but the thought that all those riches were hers cheered her up considerably.
:-:
Lawrence's money lasted her another three years before Celia contemplated marrying again. The gold was getting low and she worried about having to cut back on her shopping if it went much further. Sure, she could have easily batted her eyelashes and gotten herself a job, but experience told her that finding a rich husband paid better than any job would—and it was so much easier!
She'd had a few short trysts since her last husband's demise, but nothing that was worth rekindling. No one really important or wealthy, but they were fun for a while and served her other needs.
She met Nester at a charity ball. He was the wealthiest donor in the room, as assured to her by the hostess, a close friend of Celia's.
She wasted no time in flirting with the old man—he was at least twice her age. She danced with him the whole evening and talked late into the night, trying her best to become what he wanted her to be. She'd learned long ago that men preferred she change to their needs than be herself, and she was happy to become their dream woman if it meant she got a few more jewels and pretty dresses out of the deal.
Nester had never been married and never had a family, despite wanting one. Celia talked often and fondly of her sweet little Blaise, repeating what the nannies told her about him and how well he was doing with his tutoring. It was enough to hook Nester, in the end. It only took two weeks for him to ask for her hand.
It was a relief to be married again. Nester's wealth would be enough to last her until Blaise was grown, maybe even longer. And then, Celia thought, maybe her sweet boy would be willing to look after his dear mother. But if not, she was sure there would be another man out there to take pity on a poor, helpless widow.
Men were such simple creatures.