There was an upcoming ball at the Clement home for Jacques birthday. He was not at all impressed with the fact his parents had decided to throw him one when he was going to be twelve, but he knew that trying to talk them out of it now was simply not going to happen. So Jacques was sulking.
Especially seeing as he had to go to Madam Malkin's to get fitted for his new school robes and an outfit for the evening.
The witch always was happy to see a Clement walk through the door - or so she had said every time Jacques had had the misfortune to enter the shop. It meant she 'could buy finer fabrics and work her magic so much better' on the items. Jacques thought this was complete rubbish and had switched off after that.
Today had been no different, after ordering a tuxedo in the finest material known to man, Jacques had changed back in to his shirt and trousers, checked his hair wasn't too messed in the mirror and stepped out of the booth pulling his jacket on to his shoulders. His chaperone stood in the corner, eyes scanning for any danger to the heir to the Clement fortune.
Just as he was about to bark the orders to his man to get him home, someone stepped before him, introducing herself. Frowning at the witch, Jacques put two and two together. Ah, another Valois. My luck. He thought to himself. "Jacques." The boy replied, remembering as he'd always been taught to not divulge his last name until he was sure of the person.
Of course, there was the likelihood that he would be recognised, especially by a Valois, but he decided not to push things.
However, the comment on Diagon Alley being beautiful made Jacques raise an eyebrow. "Really? This place is disgusting. Way too many people." Jacques scoffed, shaking his head at her enthusiasm.
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