Marylebone, Muggle London.
When Severa woke up, rain still fell outside, the sun hidden behind thick clouds, draping the world in a sombre, grey hush. The battery-powered clock above her door told her it was just past 9 am. Yawning, she waved a hand in the direction over her window; the curtains drew back from their half-closed position, allowing her to see out. From her spot in bed, she could only see the tops of the trees, the greyish-white cloudy sky and the rain that pattered against the window.
She laid for a few more minutes before getting up, stretching towards the ceiling and cracking her neck as she walked towards her door. The clattering of pots and pans hit her ears as she opened the bedroom door. Realising her room was still Imperturbable; she cast a silent and wandless Finite.
Using the loo first and washing her face, Severa made her way to the kitchen.
"Morning!" Nicole said, throwing her a grin as she entered.
Severa grunted in response, walking towards the coffee pot filled with still-steaming hot coffee. She grabbed a coffee cup and poured some into it. The fridge opened on its own, the milk floating out and towards her, as did the powdered creamer on the other side of the kitchen.
Nicole, unperturbed by the sight as this was a common occurrence, carried on making her eggs on the stove. Ben, who'd just walked in and was not used to things floating around, let out a startled curse.
"Fuck sake," he said, heart racing just a little as he made his way to Nicole, giving her a peck good morning.
Severa just smirked as she turned around, leaning against the counter, allowing the milk and creamer to pour into her cup. The drawer next to Ben opened quickly, making him flinch while a small spoon flew out and into her cup.
"Do you have to do that, Vera?" Nicole asked, humour slipping into her voice as she scraped the eggs onto a plate. While Ben didn't exactly hate magic, he was considerably weary of it. Something that stemmed from his childhood.
Severa shrugged as the spoon stirred itself, then waved her hand to send the milk and creamer back to their respective spots.
"Do what?" she asked, her voice laced with false sweetness as she held the spoon back with her finger and took a sip.
Nicole rolled her eyes at the picture of innocence Severa was trying to paint and set the pan back on the stove. "You know what."
Still watching the drawer with mild suspicion, Ben muttered under his breath. "Bloody unnatural that. Wicked, but unnatural."
Severa snorted, blowing lightly over her coffee before taking another sip and rolled her eyes "The girl you're shagging has a witch for a roommate; get used to things floating."
Nicole gasped in mock offense, glaring at the raven-headed girl, but a grin took over quickly. She smacked Ben's chest with the back of her hand. "She's got a point, you know."
Ben gave Severa a dry look, then turned back to Nicole. "Yeah, well, at least you don't go flinging spoons at people first thing in the morning, or bloody milk."
Severa smirked, taking another slow sip of her coffee, content in riling him up. Her fingers twitched ever so slightly against her mug and she quickly hid her smirk in her coffee as Ben's hair started to float upwards.
Nicole started giggling as Ben looked at her confusedly before reaching a hand up and touching the tips of his hair. "Not again! Severa!" He groaned, trying to use both hands to smooth down his static-looking hair.
Nicole sat at the small kitchen table with her plate, amusement in her eyes and her grin still on her face as she watched Ben try and use water to tame his hair. She gestured toward the extra eggs she had made, enough for them both. "You should eat something before you go out. You are going out, right?"
Severa hummed, both girls ignoring Ben's cries of "Severa, damn it put my hair back to normal!" And the water he flicked at her. She stepped over to grab a plate. "Yeah, heading into the city for a bit."
Nicole raised a brow as she stabbed her eggs with a fork. "Magical or muggle?"
"Euston, muggle."
Ben made a noise of surprise; he'd given up on trying to fix his hair and instead was making himself a cup of coffee. He made for an amusing sight. "Why the hell are you going to Euston?"
Severa set her plate across from Nicole, flicking her fingers again to summon a fork she'd forgotten to grab. "Just need to check something out."
Nicole narrowed her eyes and pointed her egged fork at her. "You're up to something."
Severa wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes, shovelling eggs onto her plate and taking a bite. "I'm always up to something."
Ben groaned. "That's not comforting." He'd just sat down next to Nicole, taking the last of the eggs and a piece of toast and serving himself a portion of beans.
Nicole chewed slowly, eyes still on Severa, but didn't press the matter further, knowing how much she hated it when people pried. Instead, she changed the subject, launching into some story about a coworker who'd embarrassed themselves at the hotel the day before. Ben being more amused by the story than she was.
Severa half-listened as she ate, mind already turning over several different plans in her head. She needed to get to the café before Fleamont did, or should she arrive after he did? If she comes before him, she needed to be settled, looking casual but approachable. It had to feel effortless, coincidental.
Or she could show up after, walking in, catching his attention. He always sat at a table big enough for three; arriving late could work in her favour. The tables are full. She looks around for some seating, and he, being the gentleman she's seen him be, would offer her part of his own table. Or could it be vice versa?
Either way, above all else, it had to work.
Floating her plate in the sink, thoughts racing, she returned to her room, ignoring Nicole and Ben as they both looked at her curiously. Once inside her room, Severa shut her door with a flick of her wrist, securing it with a soft click. The room was still dim; the dreary London rain casting muted light through the window. She moved toward her wardrobe, pulling it open and rifling through her clothes.
She needed to look effortless and polished, but not too polished. She wanted to be casual, neat, and cute–just enough to make an impression without seeming like she was trying but enough to catch his attention and hold it.
Severa rifled through her wardrobe, bypassing her usual trousers and jumpers until her fingers brushed against soft fabric—a dark plaid skirt neatly folded near the back. She hesitated for a moment before pulling it out, along with a pair of thick black stockings tucked beside it.
She had nearly forgotten about these. They were a birthday gift from Nicole a few years back—one of her many attempts to get Severa to "dress up" more.
With a small sigh, she laid the skirt on her bed and grabbed a fitted black turtleneck from the wardrobe. It was simple but elegant.
First, she slipped into the stockings and smoothed them over her legs before stepping into the skirt, fastening it securely at her waist. The material brushed just above her knees—not too short nor too long. Next, she pulled on the turtleneck, tucking it neatly into the skirt's waistband.
For warmth, she draped her long charcoal coat over her shoulders and completed the look with her leather ankle boots. The ensemble was polished and cute but not childishly cute; nothing about it screamed, 'I TRIED TOO HARD AND THIS WAS THE RESULT!' No, this was exactly what she needed.
Satisfied, she returned to her desk and opened the small leather book again.
Flourish and Blotts – 10:00
Fleamont Potter – 11:15 AM – Café on Melcombe Street.
If she arrived at Flourish and Blotts by ten and left before half-past, she'd have more than enough time to make it to the café without drawing suspicion.
Closing the book, Severa slipped it into her bag, fastening the clasp with a quick flick of her fingers. She retrieved her wand, tucking it securely into the sleeve of her right arm; it was held in place by magic. She then turned toward the door, ready to set her plan into motion. Before leaving the room, she took one last glance into her floor-length mirror. She turned, looking herself over in every direction, a slight frown on her face as she huffed.
Her long hair hung limply, her face blemish-free, thankfully. Dropping her wand from her sleeve, she quickly cast a refreshing charm. Watching as her hair went from limp to slightly less limp, with an ever so slight curl to it.
"For fuck sake," she muttered, glaring at herself in the mirror.
From the corner of her eye, she spied one of her magazines lying across her desk. On the front was a girl with hair similar to hers, done in a half-up, half-down style. Grabbing the magazine, she held it up and pointed her wand at her hair, waving it slowly clockwise, watching as her hair started to transform from its limp state to something she'd consider pretty.
Or at the very least, less limp.
Satisfied with the look, she left the room.
Nicole, now perched on the armrest of their worn-out sofa, raised an eyebrow as she chewed on a piece of toast. "You're really going all out today," she remarked, eyes flicking over Severa's outfit and hair.
Severa scoffed, adjusting her coat. "It's just clothing."
"Mm-hmm," Nicole hummed, smirking. "So, what's the occasion? You're never so dressed up. Meeting a secret lover?" she asked in a sing-y voice.
Severa snorted. "Flourish and Blotts."
Nicole pulled a face, her hand coming to rest on her forehead. "Tragic."
"Where's Ben?" Severa asked, looking around the room for the man.
Nicole gave her a mischievous look. "He's in my room and told me to wait out here for him," she giggled.
Severa grimaced, looking disgusted. She decided not to say anything and ignored her instead, reaching for her umbrella by the door before deciding not to bother with it. The rain outside had slowed to a drizzle, but the sky remained a heavy, sullen grey. She stepped into her boots, gave Nicole a final unimpressed look, and opened the door.
"Try not to hex anyone before noon!" Nicole called after her.
"No promises."
With that, Severa stepped out, shutting the door behind her.
The cold air bit at her cheeks as she descended the front steps, the drizzle clinging to her coat in fine droplets. She barely noticed. Her mind was already elsewhere—on the meeting with Fleamont Potter and the following carefully laid step in her plan.
She walked briskly through the streets of Muggle London, blending in with the morning crowd. The city had its own kind of magic, a rhythm and pulse entirely separate from the one she had grown up in. Even now, after years of moving between both worlds, there were moments when she felt like a ghost here—passing through unseen, untethered.
A black cab sped past, splashing water onto the pavement near her boots. Severa barely glanced at it, casting a wandless spell to keep her shoes dry. She turned onto Melcombe Street, passing rows of small cafés and bookshops, the hum of conversation and clinking porcelain drifting through the damp air.
Looking around, she gave a sigh of relief; she still had time. She'd been just slightly worried he would show up early. Not common for him but not unheard of either.
Stepping into a quiet alleyway, she apparated to the Leaky Cauldron with a sharp crack. The dimly lit pub was already bustling with early patrons nursing pints and chatting in low murmurs. The scent of butterbeer and roasted nuts lingered in the air, mixing with the faint trace of damp wool from coats drying near the hearth.
Severa barely paused. She adjusted her coat, straightened her posture, and strode through the room, her boots clicking softly against the worn wooden floor. A few heads turned as she passed, but no one dared to linger too long on her.
Pushing open the back door, she stepped into the courtyard and withdrew her wand. With a practised flick, she tapped the familiar brick sequence. The wall shifted and twisted, bricks rearranging themselves until an archway revealed the bustling heart of Diagon Alley.
The street was already alive with morning activity. Shopkeepers arranged their displays; owls fluttered overhead with messages clutched in their talons, and witches and wizards bustled about, wrapped in cloaks to guard against the drizzle.
A sight that was both overly familiar and comforting.
Severa moved quickly, dodging past a pair of gossiping witches outside Madam Malkin's and sidestepping a young wizard wrestling with a stack of unruly spell books. Flourish & Blotts stood just ahead, its front window boasting a display of newly released magical tomes bound in shimmering covers.
She stepped inside, shaking off the last remnants of the damp air. The scent of parchment and ink wrapped around her instantly, a familiar comfort. It was quiet at this hour, save for the occasional rustle of pages and the soft murmuring of a shop assistant shelving books.
Perfect.
She made her way toward the back, weaving through towering shelves. Her fingers brushed against a few familiar spines before she found what she was looking for—a modest section dedicated to magical beauty.
Sliding her fingers along the spines, Severa skimmed the titles. Ethereal Enchantments: A Witch's Guide to Timeless Beauty, Veela Secrets Unveiled, Potions for Radiance and Rejuvenation. She exhaled softly, resisting the urge to scoff.
Most of these books were filled with nonsense—flowery words and impractical rituals as if beauty could be bottled and sold in neatly packaged flasks. Still, some contained useful information, particularly the ones on potioneering and spellcraft.
She pulled down The Alchemy of Aesthetics and flipped through the pages. Although it was more theory-based than instructional, it held potential. A few pages in, she paused at a section detailing the effects of certain potions on ageing and complexion, listing ingredients with properties that could alter minor imperfections.
Her lips pressed together. Fleamont Potter had built an empire on these very concepts. Potions that promised youth, vitality, and effortless charm.
Severa wasn't looking to buy into false promises, but understanding them? That was another matter entirely. And one she enjoyed thoroughly. After all, Severa prided herself on her brains and the knowledge she held. She considered it one of her biggest assets—sharp, unforgiving, and far more reliable than charm or brute strength.
Tucking the book under her arm, she scanned the shelves again. One more caught her eye—Spellbound Beauty: The Art and Logic of Magical Enhancements.
Glancing around, ensuring no one was around to see her, Severa opened the book and flipped through it. Charm after charm, explicitly detailing the mechanics of each spell. Her eyes lit up; this was exactly her kind of book. Not only informative but logical. It explained how each wand movement mattered, how Glamour Charms bent light to soften features, and how Transfigurative Hexes subtly altered texture on a molecular level. Every spell was treated like a potion—precise, methodical, and grounded in the understanding that true allure lay not in perfection. Beauty, it argued, was not conjured but crafted—an art of subtlety, balance, and control.
If she'd known there were books like this for makeup; perhaps she wouldn't have avoided it for as long as she did.
The longer she looked through the book, the more she got excited, her eyes roaming the pages as quickly as possible. A noise from the other side of the shop startled her, and she looked up from a chapter explaining how to change the eyeshadow colours on your eyes to different ones without having to cancel and reapply the charm. She looked at her thin watch and cursed, it was already 11:12 am. She always did lose track of time when a subject caught her interest.
But damn it all, she was going to be late!
Deciding to buy both books, she made her way to the cashier. An older gentleman behind the counter cheerfully checked her out. "Will that be all, dearie? " he asked.
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she nodded, "Yes." Silently urging the older man to move faster.
"That'll be 3 Galleons!"
Severa sucked in a breath. "Three!?"
The man nodded. "Yes," he said, tapping the Spellbound Beauty book. There are not many like this one out there; it's two galleons alone."
Two galleons for a book was a steep price to pay; Severa knew this. And frankly, she could just about afford it. It would set her back, but it would be worth it. If she could understand the mechanics behind the spells, she could create her own.
That alone was worth the investment.
With a small amount of reluctance, she handed over the three galleons. Less than a minute later, she was standing outside. She shrunk and safely tucked the books away in her bag. She looked down at her watch once more: 11:17 am.
She cursed again. Fleamont was nothing if not punctual. He got there at 11:15 on the dot every Sunday morning.
It looked like she was going with plan B.
Since she was already late, she decided she'd pop into the loo at the Leaky Cauldron. Making her way through the crowded street, she arrived at the brick wall. As she passed through, she nodded at Tom, the barman.
"Alright, Tom?" She said, making her way towards the counter.
Tom nodded, putting away a glass he was cleaning "Hello, love, good morning?"
"It's going," she replied. "Could I use the loo here, please? It'll only take a moment!"
Now, Tom wasn't one to allow non-customers to use the toilet, but as hard as it was for some to believe, Tom was fond of the little snake in front of him. He remembered when she first came to the Leaky Cauldron, trailing behind an older woman–her mother. He remembers the wide-eyed fascination and excitement. And she'd always been such a polite girl.
Tom gave her a searching look before sighing fondly, "Alright, go ahead, dear."
Severa gave him a grateful smile and quickly hurried to the loo. She locked the door behind her, pulled her new Spellbound Beauty book out of her bag, and unshrunk it. She flipped through the pages quickly and found a spell for Barely There Makeup. Scanning over the spell, she nodded to herself; it was simple enough, and with the added instructions that broke the spell and its movements down, Severa had full confidence.
Looking the page over once more, she allowed her wand to slip out of her sleeve; clutching it loosely in her hand, she raised it towards her face. Twisting her wrist, ending the movement with a flourishing swish upwards, she glided the wand from the right side of her face to the left and muttered under her breath, "Mollesco Pulchra!"
As the wand passed over the skin, she could tell the difference—a slight cooling tingle. Pulling the wand away, she looked at herself in the mirror; her eyes widened, and a soft gasp left her lips.
Her lips were a soft, petal pink, as though kissed by the chill. The faintest blush bloomed across her cheeks, just enough to suggest warmth, while a whisper of rose-tinted shadow dusted her eyelids, melting seamlessly into her skin. Even the tip of her nose held the subtlest flush, completing the illusion of someone who'd just stepped in from the cold—effortless, fresh, and quietly charming.
Beautiful. Adorable.
Not adjectives she ever thought she'd use to describe herself.
Severa shook her head; right, that's enough of that, she thought, grimacing at the time on her watch. 11:26 am, it said. The small hand on the watch ticking as if mocking her.
After closing, shrinking, and pocketing the book in her bag and placing the wand back securely in her sleeve, Severa glanced at the mirror one last time before leaving the toilet.
Tom, who was dealing with a customer, gave her a thumbs-up and a fatherly smile. She gave him a barely there thumbs-up back and gestured to the door with her head, indicating that she was leaving. He gave a sharp nod before turning away, as his attention was called elsewhere as she left.
Stepping out into the cold air, the weather was still rather poorly; the light rain drizzle had picked up again. Severa dashed around to the alleyway, not bothering to cast any sort of spell to repel the water. The moment her foot hit the alleyway, and she was out of sight, she disapparated. She landed in the alley not far from the cafe where Fleamont Potter was.
Quickly making her way towards the cafe, a nervous, fuzzy feeling settled in her stomach. This was it; this was the first step to a long road. There was no turning back; as soon as she stepped through those doors, her life would change. Whether for the good or bad, that all depended on her and the choices she was about to make.
Severa pushed open the cafe door, a chime alerting everyone that someone new had just entered.
Here we go.