Magical Hogwarts

 

summer, new york

Oliver ran a gentle, appreciative hand over the ornate fabric of the floor length coat that had been draped over his broad shoulders. “It’s stunning, Sidney,” He was careful to not catch his rings on the ornate patchwork. “Really,” It was one of a kind, the man had explained to him just moments before, and made for him. They’d only met a handful of times (the details were fuzzy – as were most things of late) but Sidney had become something less than a friend and more than an acquaintance. He’d been collecting those kinds of relationships.

“Are you sure?” He looked at the man through the reflection of the tall mirror that was tilted against the wall, and he was appreciating his work in return. Sidney insisted and Oliver easily acquiesced. The quiet hum of the crowd from outside the door of the backstage area cut through the conversation around them and he smiled.

There was something about New York.

Some time later, with the garment safely ready for portkey home to Oliver’s not-quite-home that was a London hotel suite, he found himself mingling. The crowd was exactly what he expected of the show– every person with their own energy and style that made up the whole. It wasn’t like any other fashion show he’d seen before. The venue was multi-storied with a rooftop that, impossibly, seemed to look down on all the city. The energy was magnetic, intoxicating, even. And that wasn’t just because of the potion that had been mixed into his drink.

He spotted a familiar face, though was surprised to see her there. Kate struck him as so much more of a West Coast woman–  then again, he didn’t really know her. “Your book is lovely,” Oliver slid beside her at the bar, using the excuse to refresh his gin fizz (it was no Ray’s, and the bartender was no Annette). He was aware it had been written under pseudonym, and he couldn’t blame her, so part of him wondered if he was being invasive bringing it up, after she had been outed.

“It’s nice to see you,” Oliver greeted her with an embrace, a kiss on the cheek, as he did with most. Truthfully, he hadn’t ever really seen Kate Baker, more than he had heard about her. Given the nature of their connection, the Liam of it all, it might have felt uncomfortable to anyone other than him.

He preferred to make his own judgements about a person.

“Do you know Sidney?” Oliver wondered belatedly with a light in his eye from under the life of city around them. He nodded the man behind the bar to get Kate a refill before turning back to her with a grin. She looked lovely, but that too was not a surprise. Since getting in the industry he’d learned that everyone knew everyone.

@Kate Baker

 Ever since living on her own and since developing a specific taste for aesthetics, Kate’s interest in other forms of art were increasing, especially in fashion’s case. Remodeling her Chelsea townhouse had given Kate a new passion for fashion, and needless to say she was spending a good chunk of her time shopping in boutiques and cutting-edge shops she never would have gone in before–whether for fear of experimentation with different clothes, not having her own money, or being too afraid of looking any particular “way” to other people.

Her style was a bit brighter, a bit sunnier than Londoners’, Kate often liked to play with earthy colors and textures. The closest American equivalent she could make would be New York; at least, certain parts of it. She sometimes felt a bit out of her depth discussing such things with polished, cultured Englishwomen. People from the west coast of the United States had a reputation for prioritizing comfort and function above all else and often dressing rather lackadaisically and looking dowdy as a result. Kate knew it was possible that negative assumptions someone made about her naivety in this realm could still be correct, so she was determined to expand her knowledge base.

It was the summer, which meant that New York was preparing for fashion week in September, and her father had an apartment in New York that he rented for business, not to mention that Kate’s old friendly acquaintance Sidney had personally invited her to a show of his in the city. Undeniably, something she found interesting coupled with showing support for an old friend was the perfect antidote for outsider blues. She packed her things, Simon included, and booked her portkey.

At the show, Kate decided not to actually purchase anything except for a sparkly pair of shoes. Sidney appreciated a good heel, of course, and had worn them many times himself, so they were always constructed and designed well. The clothing felt too risky, but she was perfectly content to marvel at the craftsmanship and mope around by herself, talking intermittently with some of the “popular” former Ilvermorny students who loved Sid but whom Kate had been much too shy to ever talk to.

Aaaaany second now, Tyler will show up, and I’ll have to explain to him that–

“Your book is lovely.”

Kate’s stomach dropped and she thought for sure she could actually see her eyes flash in the glass in front of her. Dear god, had someone found her here? She’d been so careful to avoid going out to any heavily populated areas and she wasn’t in the middle of Times Square, for Pete’s sake–

Wait. You don’t sound American.

Kate was blindly turning into the person to give them a hug, robotically at first, and then focused hard when she heard him talk again. Oh. Oliver. Like Liam’s boyfriend, Oliver, whom she’d met many times, gone to parties with, been well-acquainted with, and she was standing here like a freak, hugging him like a recovering frostbite victim. “Oliver,” Kate covered warmly and tightened her grip more naturally, leaning her cheek just barely into the kiss that he offered to be polite.

“So nice to see you, and thanks so much,” Kate beamed at him and straightened her camel https://www.pinterest.com/pin/8514686786951453/' rel='nofollow noopener' target='_blank'>blazer, made tolerable in the heat only by air conditioning and a very lightweight slip dress. The heat in the northeast this time of year was unbearable compared to dry, fresh, breezy California air in the summer. “I take it you read it, then?” She asked curiously. He seemed quite the romantic type, which was especially befuddling, considering his choice of partner–but then Kate supposed someone could say that about her, too.

“Yeah I do, we. Went to Ilvermorny together, and he was always so talented, but he kinda got bullied sometimes, for. You know, being gay,” Kate gestured subtly, feeling awkward. “He moved to New York right after we graduated and he’s had fantastic success. How do you two know each other?”

 Oliver easily agreed. It was nice to see her too.

For so long Kate Baker had been something of a figment of his imagination, despite having met her on a few occasions, and after her name had become a familiar one. She and her ex-husband had become something of a tabloid spectacle, but Oliver didn’t pay much mind to that sort of thing; rumors. In whatever experience he had in the industry he knew that not everything– and certainly not everyone– w re as they seemed.

Ollie’s mouth pulled into a pleasant grin. He couldn’t help but follow her attention to where she adjusted her blazer. It was nice, but he was far more interested in what was behind it; her dress, a silk fabric that Sidney would spend the evening envying, he imagined.

“Is this his?” He gestured to the piece, finishing the question before his gaze flicked back up to Kate, intently and genuine interest. “To be honest– “ How the fuck did he and Sid know each other? Oliver paused to consider the question, tapping his pointer finger to his chin as his eyes turned skyward. “I’m not actually sure when we met…” He confessed as though it was sin, shoulders slumping.

“We met somewhere like this…” He gestured vaguely around them before breaking into a grin that was teetering on guilty. Somewhere 'in the industry', but he didn't dare say that. “A new friend,” Oliver quickly ambled, ducking out of the way as a crowd lined up behind them at the bar, barely touching her shoulder to get her attention. To ask.

“Mad, isn’t it?” Oliver wondered aloud as they found a pocket of air in the crowd a few paces from the bar. He turned on his heels to face her, that time more curious than he had been before. “… of course I’ve read your book,” That was an easier confession. “I wouldn’t say I liked it if I hadn’t,” There was a hint of teasing in his voice as his smile turned into a smirk.

Then it dawned on him that Kate was likely more accustomed to the opposite. The smirk faltered.  

 Is this his? He asked, and Kate was beaming and proud to say “Yes, it is,” She tucked her hair behind her ears, feeling modest and shy after the euphoria she was wearing her friend’s clothes at his show wore off. It wasn’t anything she felt accomplished about, necessarily, she was just happy that Sidney was getting his name out there and enjoying the success he so clearly deserved. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that he tends to make more eclectic pieces,” Kate held up the sleek bag with the shoes in it, “so the dress was a bit of a one-off, but it was perfect for me. I didn’t buy anything tonight except this pair of shoes, but I’m trying to dip my toe in and be a little more daring.”

She took a moment to size her new companion up, observing that he didn’t seem to be all that self-conscious, and while Kate had spent many months honing her independence and becoming a more self-possessed woman, she envied these outgoing, extroverted people who seemed to have that It Factor naturally, without any manufacturing or intensive behavioral therapy.

Kate admired he had the courage to admit that he had no idea how he’d met Sidney. Sometimes that was the way things went, wasn’t it? In artistic industries people were constantly connecting, networking, going to events–it wasn’t a shock that it could be really difficult to keep track of such things. Kate was an exceptionally organized person and even she struggled to recall details of each and every function she attended at any given moment, especially when substances (as they often happened to be) were involved.

They were wandering through the crowd, mostly clumps and throngs of people gesturing boldly and speaking loudly, and for a second Kate thought it was aimless until the bar seemed to magically appear in front of them. “We getting drinks? I’m going to go check this in coats,” She told him, referring to her blazer and the pair of shoes she’d bought.

A moment later she returned and beamed, again, at him. He was so nice, she wondered why they hadn’t spoken more often and then remembered a split second later–Liam. Somehow she doubted, very very strongly, that Liam would be a peach about his significant other being friends with who he once considered his arch-nemesis. It sounded dramatic, but Kate knew from experience that it wasn’t.

“Phew, much better without that blazer. It’s so humid on the east coast in the summer, I can’t stand it.” She shook her head. “How long are you planning to be in New York? Any other plans while you’re here?”