[MP] Couldn't be Happier [open]

She was forced into this scenario and Shimmer didn't much care for it. The young witch needed to study for her night classes not waste her time in a hotel cause her boss didn't want to go. Sure being able to experience this once in a lifetime event with some expenses paid by her boss would be nice for the former homeless child, but she had her goals set in life and dilly-dallying wasn't going to help reach them. She would have to even spend a full night at the hotel due to her boss having a reservation there. "At least I get a free day off," Shimmer muttered to herself as she checked out the room she would be staying in. In was lavish and everything was nicely decorated. Honestly, it was a bit of an eyesore overall, but it was free for her so there was that.

Deciding she wasn't going to stick to her room she headed her way up to the lounge that was supposedly world-renowned. Shimmer had only heard about the place in passing from other employees so she hadn't known much about the place prior to tonight, but apparently, it was supposed to be the most happening of places tonight. Dressed in an outfit she had tucked away for special occasions she made her way past the bouncer checking to make sure the right people were getting into the party towards the balcony to overlook the skyline. It was beautiful, to say the least as a quick breeze ruffled her hair. Shimmer took a deep breath and felt the chill of the night air escape her nostrils. Maybe she should have worn a jacket instead of going sleeveless.

She turned away from the skyline and leaned back on the railing just imaging herself floating in the air weightless. Her eyes closed she placed her hands on the railing and held herself up with them as she drifted into her mind thinking about her goals and ambitions. She was doing decently as a secretary through the work was unfulfilling and her night classes were going rather well. "Not much longer," she whispered to herself as she thought about being able to finally avenge her mother and put an end to her father. She couldn't commit murder without herself being put into arrest, but to change his charges to that of execution instead of incarceration was possible. A small smile appeared on her face as she said a little louder than she wished to admit, "we are almost there mother...Almost."

During his years teaching at Hogwarts, Sam had started to correspond with professors at various other schools around the world, and as a result, even now he was attempting to earn his living as a full time artist he had half a dozen penfriends on other continents. His love of travel hadn't faded at all, even though he was now in his late thirties and fairly sensible in most other respects. But when he had heard of the Hallowe'en party in New York, his heart had leapt with excitement in a way it hadn't for a long time and he decided, almost on the spur of the moment, to go. Unfortunately Louise was in the middle of planning a new exhibition and insisted she couldn't take even one night off, but said he should go anyway. Secretly Sam was hoping she would change her mind at the last minute and catch a later portkey, and had booked one of the cheaper rooms at the hotel in case she was able to join him after all.

He was rather pleased with his outfit. His usual ethnic-styled robes hadn't seemed suitable for such an event, so after an afternoon at the Dickinson family shop his older sister had come up with a Georgian-inspired costume which not only fit comfortably but also suited the occasion. It would also help prevent him feeling despondent. Hallowe'en at Hogwarts had always been something he'd looked forward to, helping to select the menus the house elves would create, organising the decorations and then staying up most of the night to catch the students who'd decided to ignore the curfew and have illicit parties in empty classrooms...okay, so it hadn't all been fun. But he missed it anyway, despite knowing his reasons for leaving had been valid.

Although he'd travelled extensively Sam had never been to the Americas, and he was smiling as he placed his hand in the portkey that would transport him half a world away.  There was the familiar, never pleasant jerk in the pit of his stomach as he was dragged through space, only to reappear in the foyer of the Dairaku hotel. Even before he had finished checking in a waitress strolled over with a tray of glasses of champagne, and he took one. He was still holding the glass as he stepped out of the ornate fireplace on the fifty-first floor a moment later. It was still early, and people were mostly milling around or chatting in small groups. The former professor felt a little out of place, but more than anything he wanted to see the view from up here so he headed over to the balcony.

"Wow..." he wished he had a camera to capture the moment so he could paint it more accurately later. So engrossed with the view was he that he belatedly realised that a tall, immaculately-dressed  young woman was speaking. He couldn't catch her words, but felt suddenly uncomfortable. Was she speaking to him? "I'm sorry...did you say something?" he asked, immediately marking himself as English both by his accent and his ability to apologise within one second of making a new acquaintance.

"Huh?!" Shimmer jumped in exclamation and could feel herself losing balance from the sudden question thrown her way. She quickly grabbed the rail to stop from falling either off the building or just straight slipping. She took quick breaths as she did her best to compose herself from such a shock. Though why was she even spooked? She was at a party where a bunch of people was attending so it shouldn't have been a surprise for someone to approach her or talk to her. 

After collecting herself she straightened herself back up and looked at the man who addressed her. He was older than her that much she could tell for certain and based upon his accent he wasn't from this country either. Based upon his appearance he was certainly also older than her by at least ten years if she had to guesstimate. Yet despite this, he dressed quite well for his age. Sure she wouldn't have picked that sort of tacky outfit, but he was able to pull off the Victorian style decently well. Wait? Was it Victorian or was it Georgian in style? She always got those mixed up well whichever it was he did a decent job of dressing himself for the occasion. The man also had quite decent to above average facial structure for the age he might be in fact Shimmer thought if the age difference wasn't a problem she might even date a man as attractive as him.

Shimmer told herself to calm down as it wasn't the time to be thinking of relationships. She needed to focus on her career and any man or woman she wanted to pursue would just have to wait till she had her justice. Shimmer cleared her throat as she realized she left him without much of a response for far too long as she was gazing him up and down. "I'm sorry. I seem to have become distracted," she brushed a stray hair back behind her ear before continuing, "and no I was just talking aloud." Shimmer looked up at the night sky and could feel her mother's gaze upon her. As much as she wanted to get out of this conversation she knew her mother wouldn't approve of her not being polite. So Shimmer decided to give this man at least some courtesy. "I was talking to my mother," she said this while keeping her gaze upward. Shimmer closed her eyes and continued, "She died when I was young." Taking a long breath and letting it out she went on, "I was telling her that I was close to achieving our goal." She gave a warm smile and added, "I hope she's happy."

She shook her head to get out of her dreamlike and goal oriented self and focused back on the man present. "I must apologize I never introduced myself," she gave a small curtsy and finished with, "Shimmer. Shimmer Vega at your service." She dug into her purse and pulled out a business card that was issued to all MACUSA employees.  She extended it out to him adding, "Secretary of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." The card would say just as much as she said nothing more and nothing less for obvious reasons. "With whom may I have the pleasure to be speaking to may I ask?" she fired quickly at the man after introducing herself.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I...” Sam immediately apologised again as it seemed he'd shocked the poor woman – no, she was younger than that, two or three years out of school he'd have guessed. She looked him up and down, taking in his outfit and appearance in a way that made him feel quite uncomfortable. The Seer reminded himself that Americans were more forward (or so he'd always heard) and this was probably completely normal. Oh, and it was fine to look back, which was a good thing because that was exactly what he was doing.

And then she spoke to him, and her very first words were an apology as well, again for no discernible reason, and Sam felt himself relax a bit. He smiled, though that faded from his face quickly as he heard what she was saying. “I'm s...” he almost said, before stopping himself just in time so this didn't become an entire conversation of saying sorry to each other. Instead he said “You must miss her a lot” it was a little lame, but he wasn't sure what else to say. Facing death and those affected by it never got any easier. Sam never really knew how to talk about it, only that saying something – anything – was better than pretending it hadn't happened. Belatedly he remembered the glass of champagne in one hand, and he took a sip, before temporarily placing it on the closest table.

Then the young woman seemed to remember where she was, and that she was talking with a virtual stranger. Before Sam could think of the right thing to say - the correct comment that conveyed his empathy for her loss and yet still offered some sort of positivity -  he found himself holding a business card “You're with the American Ministry?” he asked, genuinely interested, and then “Sorry. I'm Sam Dickinson, pleased to meet you” he offered his hand, suddenly feeling worried that perhaps Americans didn't shake hands and she would just stare at it in confusion. “I used to teach at Hogwarts – Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, that is – but right now I'm working as an artist” Immediately he mentally chided himself, not only had he apologised for the eight thousandth time of their short acquaintance, but he really hoped she wasn't going to ask about his work. The part about teaching he could handle, but if she asked why he'd left Hogwarts, or how his art career was going, he wasn't sure how he would answer. To steal for time he looked down at the card she had handed him, and the words he had overheard seemed to make sense now. Presumably her goal was to head up her current department; perhaps she had even higher ambitions. So he added, still holding the card and smiling warmly as he spoke, “I'm sure your mother would be proud of you. I'm sure she is.”

Only too happy to check-in his coat, Vincent flashed his ticket to the bellhop, before he preceded into the elevator and soon emerge on the skyline lounge with just a vest and tie. Within a few minutes he managed to roll up his sleeves, loosen his tie, snagged a flute of Champagne, a small mound of appetizers and find a spot on a nice solid wall that gave him both a good view of the room and the skyline.   Maybe this will not be that bad. Vincent thought as he made steadily through his snacks.

If the young muggle wizard wouldn't have purchased the ticket to the haunted basement attraction, he certainly couldn’t afford the ticket to go the fancy wizard all-hallows eve-banquet. Apparently, his department head thought it would be great to award his good performance review with a ticket to this overly extravagant wizard event instead a bonus or a pay raise. Although Vincent would have preferred the bonus or any monetary reward instead, he was not raised to look a gift horse in the mouth.  So, he obediently put on his fanciest wizard attire (minus the stupid hat and cap) and was determined to make the most of his “bonus” he earned with his hard work.

Vincent expected to see more of his coworkers here, but as of yet he failed to recognize anyone. Only a few big wig wizard dignitaries who have had known to parade through the MACUSA headquarters on the way to see the President were recognizable. As he tried not to laugh/cough his Champaign into his nose over the sight of one of the dignitaries that looked more like a poodle then a witch, a young stunningly dark-haired beauty in a black lace Spanish style dress instead caught his attention. She drift across the floor as she made her way to the edge of balcony, apparently admiring the view. After a moment she turned, arched her back, while she leaned on the railing and she looked up and talk to the stars.


Although she was stunning and Vincent would have been quite happy to remain watching her from afar, her face triggered a sparked of recognition. He was certain she was one of the new hires in the Law Enforcement department. Although not formally introduced he was sure he was told her name, for news of cute single girls new-hires travels fast among the guys employees no matter the department.   Vincent racked his brain; it was some hippy-witch name…. like Glitter or Sparkle or something.

It was then a closely standing blond mophead wizard in some pansy pirate costume spoke something to her and seemed to scare her in the process. When she nearly lost her balanced Vincent took three jolting steps forward. He was worried the pirate would fail to grab her and she was doomed to go over the edge. But as lucky had it, his coworker corrected herself. Halted in the flow of traffic Vincent decided it was more prudent to make his way closer to them in case he needed to intervene. As he approached, he could hear his coworker go into full connection building mode. She announced herself as Shimmer. Shimmer Vega at your service… Secretary of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. as she produced a card and everything.

Sh** is that what I should be doing here? Vincent thought with a laugh. He will have to wait awhile for a promotion if they were depending on him to be that social at events like this. Now feet from the Pirate, he could also hear him introduce himself as Sam Dickinson, in an English accent as a Hogwarts Professor turned Artist. Warning lights ignited for the poor girl as he imagined just what a pansy-pirate-European-wizard-artist wanted with a beautiful young naive American Witch fresh out of Ilvermorny. Something he likely got kicked out of Hogwarts for… grimly thought the American Wizard, who had seen one to many European muggle and wizards try to get fresh with american women (as well as witches)in New York bars. What else could he be with a name like, Sam Dickinson! These Wizards names were almost comical.

Vincent decided to intervene. “Why? Do you know her mother?” he said quite rudely.

Now that he fully interrupted whatever tactic this pervert-pirate was employing, Vincent decided to change to only a slightly less confrontational approach and introduced himself. “My name is Vincent Aguilar. I work at the MACUSA with Shimmer. So, what brings you to America, Sam Dickinson? Trying to find a new muse?”

Just when Sam thought things were going fine and he could quit with the perpetual apologies, a third party appeared on the scene. Appeared was perhaps putting it politely; the first the Seer knew that the conversation was no longer private - or as private as it could be in such a public place when only smalltalk was being exchanged anyway - was when an irritable male voice responded rather than the one he was expecting. Sam spun around in surprise to face the newcomer; a few inches shorter but a great deal more muscular and, in the Englishman's eyes, similarly dressed. Well, in as much as they were both wearing light colours, which was as much attention as he tended to pay to such things.

His first thought was that this was Shimmer's boyfriend; though if that was the case, a little more trust on the man's part would be in order rather than assuming that the young woman would be looking elsewhere. But then he introduced himself, and Sam decided that no, this was just a very impolite colleague of the young woman he was just speaking to. He didn't even think they were becoming acquainted, not really; no more than a few words had been exchanged. But now, things like reserve and politeness and good manners disappeared as the former Professor straightened to his full height of a little over six feet; making it look like he wasn't trying. It was a tactic he had employed on occasion when an older student had tried to throw their weight around with younger peers, though it only served here to make Sam feel a little more confident.

"Delighted to meet you, Vincent Aguilar" he said, using the other's full name definitely not because he was trying to be polite. "No, I don't know Ms Vega's mother. because we only just met. But she mentioned the lady and it is customary, at least in Britain, to offer a condolence of some kind upon hearing of a bereavement, no matter how long ago it happened. I apologise if you are more used to ignoring the words of others." he smiled, and while it was genuine, only Sam knew that this was because he was amused that he had managed to apologise once again, though of course this time it was simply a meaningless platitude. "And to answer your other questions, a friend with whom I correspond told me about the event, and as I enjoy travelling I decided to pay New York a visit and enjoy the warmth and friendship of those who live here. I had hoped my girlfriend would be able to attend with me, but she's organising an exhibition in London and was unable to take the time from work." Somehow Sam had managed to keep his voice cheerful, though not without an edge of irritation, and now he lifted his champagne glass and drained the contents, wondering if he should just go and check out the attractions elsewhere in the hotel.

Sorry? That is all anyone ever said when she explained her past. Frankly, she was getting tired of it. Sympathy really wasn't something Shimmer needed or wanted. Vengeance was her game and if someone wasn't going to help her achieve that they were just a waste of time. So the fact the majority of this man's words were sorry were grating slowly on her nerves, but he was still somewhat attractive so maybe she could just play with her prey for the night. Besides he could prove a fun distraction and challenge since he was an older man. He probably either had a ton of experience in the game or was desperate so either way, she was going to have fun.

The man continued the conversation of her mother and Shimmer pucked her lips slightly. She didn't want to go into further detail about her mother and past, but if she was honest she did miss her. Giving into the gentlemen she responded, "Well it's not like I can't visit her." She gave a side glance to the west side of the party where the direction of where her mother lay. "She didn't really raise me either so my memories of her are a bit foggy." She made a gesture to her head and flipped a stray hair from her head in the process. Was it bad she wasn't telling the full truth? Her mother was in fact not dead but rather hospitalized. Though she couldn't speak and barely ate so she might as well have been. Since being raised by the Iron Witches for the majority of her life it was hard to look at her mother as alive. In fact, she hadn't even visited her in years. Maybe she should one day, but for now, she figured it would be best to avoid it.

Suddenly they were interrupted though with a new figure. Why did she think they were alone at a party? Shimmer had to suppress a roll of her eyes when the man approached. It was a coworker and apparently an arrogant one. Why couldn't people just mind their own business? Shimmer couldn't stop herself from folding her arms as she gave the newcomer a glare. She didn't know him and he didn't know her so why was he here trying to protect her? Shimmer was a grown woman and a formidable witch if she said so herself so even if this man was a threat she could handle herself. Besides they were in a public place if he tried anything someone would have noticed so it wouldn't be wise of him to do anything in such a place.

Then Mr. Dickinson gave a rebuttal at Vincent. This caused Shimmer to raise an eyebrow in interest. She never had two men fight in front of her before. This could prove entertaining if she decided to entice the fight. How fun would it be to see two grown men fighting for her? That would be a dream certainly, but she knew better not to pressure such a scenario it would just end in them getting kicked out of the party. She needed to intervene so she cleared her throat audibly and demanded, "Gentlemen please." She turned to Vincent and gave another glare, "I know your intentions were pure, but if you want to protect someone do it from afar. Going up to someone without knowledge of the situation makes you come off as pompous. I don't need someone of your nature around in my life so leave it be." Shimmer then turned to Sam and directed a rant to him, "and you while I appreciate your honesty in answering Mr. Aguilar's questions I don't like how you antagonized a coworker of mine. We may not know each other but we are linked by profession so you insult him you insult me. I'm sure as a former professor you understand the definition of comradery." Shimmer took a deep breath to calm herself and decided to continue speaking, "Now if you both don't mind let's have a civil conversation and enjoy each other company along with the nourishment provided by the party."

When two male animals confront each other, in front of a female they tend to first size each other up. It was only natural, expressly for the less assured one for them to puff out their chest out and try to stand taller. Vincent recognized the signs, that showed the Englishman was standing his ground. Yet even if the English man was slightly taller than Vincent, he was not at intimated by the pansy-purvey-pirate in the least. So, neither the Englishman nor Vincent back down.

Although Vincent did notice the Shimmers, body language was not at all positive, it was natural for the males to continue their ranking test once started.  Once they displayed themselves and if neither was intimidated, some form of ritual confrontation would naturally come next. Vincent should have guess that the English wizard would had chosen to slash out with his sharp tongue. Although it started sweet as nectar, likely to put him off guard, the Englishman’s words soon grow bitter and stung like venom. He used guilt, remorse as a form of attack before informing Vincent that he did in fact have a girlfriend. Although the accusation of disrespect did sting a little, he was not going to let the English wizard claim having a girlfriend made him a harmless asexual innocent artist. For everyone knew artist were screwballs and their relationships tend to defy most any social norm.

Vincent was just about to open his mouth and say something to this effect when he was interrupted by Shimmer who appeared more entertained by their direct confrontation then their animalistic displays. Shimmer name might sound gazing as the champagne, but it now appeared her bite was a great many times fiercer. Vincent eyebrow raised with amazement then admiration for within a few lines she knocked out any thought of any additional masculine rituals. "She got us beat, Dickinson." He said a bit conspirator to the English wizard.

Realizing that a witch who had a brain and tongue sharper than most teeth and claws could certainly hold her own against the artist. Instead Vincent debated the choice to excuse himself form the situation, but it would likely mean the Artist would move on to his next targeted victim. So, Vincent decided to play a bit of his own game keeping an I on the pervert.

Finishing his Champagne glass, he quickly leaned over and grabbed three fresh flutes form passing waiter and presented one to his two other new companions. "Well, the least I could do is get us started." He said with a cool smile. "What are you feeling up to do? We could see what entertainment is happening downstairs or we could first fill up on the hors d'oeuvre table over there. I do recommend the dark centered minnie pasties."

The last was in a bit of a playful mimic of the English wizard’s accent. Which he recognized it, by giving the blonde man a playful wink. No harm in teasing to English wizard a little, was there?

Sam was starting to feel rather uncomfortable with this conversation. First the young woman, to whom he couldn't say more than two words without apologising, then her friend or colleague or whatever he was turning up and behaving as if Sam was trying to chat her up; and now her bizarre-sounding response. If she could visit her mother - her dead mother - did that mean the woman was a ghost? Or was she one of those muggleborns who believed that they could visit a grave and speak to the dead person's remains beneath the ground as if they were going to hear? Neither option sounded like something he wanted to ask about, so Sam was about to excuse himself and go in search of something to eat when...

Wait. What had just happened? Was this honestly how people behaved in America? He was suddenly tarred with the same brush as the incredibly rude man, who Ms Vega had just admitted she didn't know. That would be like Sam defending the honour of a random professor he'd never met before. The idea of starting over seemed a great plan. It felt like he had wandered into some alien scene where he knew none of the social rules, and yet another apology was on the tip of his tongue when it seemed the American chap, who clearly knew the correct way to behave in whatever this situation was, seemed to change tack entirely.

It was still confusing, but Sam didn't feel quite so much like he was drowning any more. As if someone had thrown him a rope and, while they weren't trying to pull him up just yet, at least he had a chance of rescue now. Sam forced a grin he didn't feel, told himself that the next words to leave his mouth absolutely would NOT be an apology, and nodded as if he agreed and had understood everything that had just taken place. “She has” he said, frantically racking his brains for something more interesting to add before - oh, thank Merlin - the other man was suddenly handing round fresh glasses of champagne and making suggestions.

“Thanks” he accepted the glass gratefully and took a sip, though his lips quirked in genuine amusement at Vincent's suggestions. Clearly the man was trying to copy Sam's own accent, but of course the only English accent he could manage was the pseudo-upper class, and thus Sam was amused rather than offended. “Sounds good. I could use something to eat before visiting the rest of the building...” He wanted to say something to Shimmer, but was conscious that whatever he said at that moment would likely come out as an apology. “So what department do you work for, Vincent?” he asked instead, figuring that was as safe a topic as any.

Good the wild beasts of men calmed down that was a plus to this party. Sure Shimmer did enjoy a good dogfight like any other, but these two were certainly a pain. Both were older gentlemen, at least by her standards, and should show some modicum of decorum. Not that she was ever the symbol of such heights. Being a girl of the streets originally it wasn't like she was apart of the upper elite. It would be apart of her dream to be as lofty as some of those regal types of people, but for now, she was working class. She needed connections in order to raise her standing in society and these two could prove useful.

So it's was nice to see these two trying to get along. Maybe for once, she could have a civil conversation with a group of people instead of them acting like a hoard of monkies. So when Vincent asked what they should do and suggested some of the nourishment while offering them some flutes of champagne she gave a courteous nod to him. Hopefully, he would take this cue as a form of her accepting that his behavior for the moment was at least decent enough for her right now. Though that didn't last long as he made a terrible impression of an English accent. Shimmer had to suppress a grunt of annoyance at him. How could a man be so embarrassing? What was he a child? Did all men act like this? Shimmer couldn't believe a man like him could be representing them. The only good thing was that the English man didn't take offense to the accent so the chance of them escalating into another fight was hopefully extinguished.

Shimmer took a small sip of her champagne and attempted to calm herself with the drink. She wasn't about to let herself be taken over again by her annoyance of things. This was essentially a business trip and she was the face for her department right now. Shimmer wasn't about to make her boss look bad by causing a scene or riot. She needed to be classy and composed. Nothing was going to ruin the image she had decided to build up for herself not even these two men. She would make sure of it.

The English man was the first to take reigns of the conversation and asked Vincent which department he was apart of to which Shimmer added, "Yes which?" She didn't know his department as she was fairly new to the work environment and had just graduated from Ilvermorny. Besides with her night studies for the discipline committee along with her work schedule she didn't have much room for socializing at work. Certainly, things were quite stressful for the young witch. It was like she was back in school, but this time she had bills to pay. The Iron witches were nice enough to help out every now and then when needed, but even then she knew she couldn't rely on them forever. Shimmer needed to work as hard as she could in order to achieve her end goals.

Vincent was happy they seemed receptive of his peace offering of the champain and the idea of taking advantage of the food. He started to lead, the way cutting through the growing crowd forming around the balcony. Lots of people seemed to all have the same desire to get a view of the city lights. Yet once through that crown they got to an area that was slightly less compacted, near the building where the food tables were not to far from.

The English Wizard’s question was simple and pleasant enough but his co-workers two word response to Vincent, felt like it had a judgmental tone. He raised an eyebrow and glanced back,  but eventually answered them now that they could walk next to each other and they would be more likely to hear him.

“I work in the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures department. I do get stuck at my desk quite a bit filling out forms,  but every now and then I get out to do some field work which is great. I was just out dealing with a… Oh, well anyways. I do enjoy it at times. ”

He had to shut his mouth because he could feel himself willing to spill the details of his last assignment. To him it was the most interesting portion of his job, but to other wizards they think most magical creatures are well beneath them and you might as well be talking about the details of a rat or a cockroach problem. So, he busied himself with another long sip of his glass. He then realized the last glass he consumed was probably the reason he was quite talkative. So, he abruptly stopped drinking, and reminded to pace himself.

Now that they were nearly in front of the appetizer tables he motioned then to go a head, just before nodding “They got some plates over there.”

Vincent let his two companions go first, before following their lead. This time bothering to get a plate, a napkin and even a small fork. He loaded his plate wit a few more of the pastries that he raved about and a few odd food items he passed on the first go around. Some seemed a bit unusual, and others possibly magical in nature. He was never sure about magical or enchanted food. Some held a pleasant surprise but still similar to muggle dish. Others gave a look of a muggle variety, but held more nastier magical surprised. The one he was currently examining, looked like a sparkling quiche. Yet besides a small explosion of flavors with the first bight, thankfully did not do anything else weird.   

He took another sip of his champagne and noted to himself that he should seek a non-alcoholic drink during the next go around. For now he thought he should get to know the wizard more, there was always a possibility he was not that bad. He certainly had noticed since the first interaction that Dickinson did not look over the young witch, like most predators would. “So, Mr.Dickinson. What type of artwork do you do? Did you teach a similar class in Hogwarts? Or do not Hogwarts have a art class like some muggles school do?”

The awkwardness wasn't going to go away immediately, of course. That would have been just too easy. Sam knew better than to react to the young woman's parroting of his question, though it told him something he hadn't suspected before. Was she, in a girlish, subtle way, trying to flirt with them? He'd encountered such things before, but not in a situation like this. He was grateful that the other man apparently had decided the same thing, or at least had read something more into what might otherwise have been a simple mirroring of his question. He didn't miss the glance, but breathed a sigh of relief when Vincent answered the question.

"A what?" Sam asked before he could stop himself. He wanted to hear more, being pretty keen on magical beasts himself. While it had never been a subject he had studied - not even at OWL level had he been able to fit it into his timetable - he had enjoyed the various encounters with exotic creatures he had experienced whilst in Africa and had read a few books on the subject. But other than knowing the Ilvermorny house names he was fairly ignorant of North American beasts. "Sorry, I guess some of it's classified. Its just interesting, you know? We've got our fair share of beasts in Britain, but its a small island and there are so many muggles a lot of the creatures are confined to small areas and preserves now..." he trailed off, thinking he'd probably said too much, but at least he'd found a possible mutual interest with the other man.

Now they'd reached the food table Sam decided he was hungry. Nothing was labelled, but it was obvious which the pastries were. And there were sandwiches - well, they looked like dinner rolls with fillings, so he took a couple that looked like they contained turkey and decided he could go back later for seconds if he chose. "Please, call me Sam. And I mostly paint. I like landscapes best - I spent a few years in Africa and the sunsets there are amazing. I use standard charms to animate the finished pictures" he paused to take a bite of what looked like a turkey sandwich, which was a pity because he promptly breathed fire after swallowing the first bite, though fortunately he'd turned his head away so neither Vincent nor Shimmer got a faceful of flames.

Sam coughed a little, eyes wide and watering as he reached for the champagne glass he'd temporarily put down on a convenient table "Excuse me. That was...interesting. I - excuse me" he coughed again " - no, there's no art class at Hogwarts, though I have taught art at a couple of the European residential schools..." he took another drink, wondering if it would be rude to leave the rest of the sandwich and simply move onto the pastries.