Noëlle Zabini; murder twat (widowed) wrote in disorderic, @ 2017-12-06 15:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | eleanor gamp, noëlle zabini |
WHO: Eleanor Gamp & Noëlle Zabini
WHEN: 5th December
WHERE: E.L.M and Wizards Undertakers & Embalmers
WHAT: A nice chat about murder and such over tea.
WARNINGS: A dead body?
Noëlle tried to avoid Knockturn as much as she could. She hated how comfortable she still felt there, the way she knew all the shops, side streets and potholes without having to think, and how dirty the soles of her overpriced shoes were getting with each step. But there were some for whom she still thought the visit was worth it. “How is business going?” she asked Eleanor, carefully pouring the boiling water from the teapot to her cup, careful not to spill any on the deceased visible through the open casket that was their makeshift table. “I’m sorry I don’t have a new husband for you yet, but I’ve given myself a challenge this time.” “Noëlle darling, you can’t rush these things. Most men aren’t worthy of your attention,” Eleanor said brightly, pouring a cup for herself. She raised her pinky as she daintily lifted the fine bone china to her lips, completely ignoring the body currently serving as a backdrop. “I imagine most of them must bore you to death.” She gave her friend a conspiratorial smile, happy for company that she genuinely enjoyed this afternoon. “Well, they all had their uses so I shouldn’t complain,” Noëlle returned the smile with a smirk. “What happened to this one?” she couldn’t help but ask, gesturing towards the corpse before picking up her tea cup. Eleanor glanced down at the besuited man and shrugged. “He ran into his lovely wife’s kitchen knife—thirty-three times. He was very clumsy! And a cheat, if the rumours are to believed. Fortunately, she now owns a very successful restaurant that ought to help soothe her broken heart. Good for her.” “Thirty-three times?” Noëlle laughed and took a sip of her tea before placing it back down on the coffin - on top of a coaster, of course. She wasn’t about to leave marks on the casket, that would look bad for the Gamps. “I hope she had her knife re-sharpened for the restaurant opening.” “Oh, I sent her a nice new set as a condolence-slash-congratulations gift,” Eleanor said, sipping her tea. “Perhaps she can keep that old one a memento. He certainly won’t be needing it any more.” She smiled fondly at the dead man, who’d done far more for his wife in death than he’d ever done in life; the Gamps too now benefited handsomely from his demise—who was she to speak ill of any of her customers? Still, his death was the most interesting thing about him, and Eleanor quickly grew bored of him. “How’s my darling Blaise? Has he been making plans for what he’s going to do once he’s left school?” she asked conversationally. “Oh,” Noëlle picked her cup back up and took a long sip to give herself time to remember what Blaise had said last time they spoke. Had she even replied to his last owl? “Blaise is well. Very independent and intelligent, so I never have to worry about him. But you know what teenagers are like, always changing their mind on what they want to do.” She didn't know if that was true, but she said it with enough confidence that it could be. “I'll check in with what it is again when he's home for Christmas.” She took another sip of her tea before continuing. “And what about yours? How are they?” The Gamps were dear friends she'd known for many years, but she still struggled with remembering their children’s names. Draco was one of the few she did remember and that was mostly because the Malfoy’s talked about him far more than necessary. “Oh, Lucas is still on the—” she shuddered “—art thing. Which I really don’t understand. Hopefully it’s just a phase. Christina is doing well also, though trying to get her to choose what she’s going to do with her life is a bit like herding cats. She has all these lofty ambitions, so doesn’t want to settle down with just one. It’s admirable, if a bit frustrating at times.” Eleanor sighed, then shrugged. “I don’t suppose I understand. I always knew what I wanted to do.” She smiled, setting her tea back down on the casket and folding her hands. “Yes, I don’t think anyone was surprised when you entered your family’s business,” Noëlle smiled. “I remember having tea parties much like this when we were children. They’re much better now we can use real tea.” She placed her own cup back down to refill it. “You were lucky. I suppose I need to start thinking about what I’ll do next at some point. Not that I need to work, but doing nothing gets tiresome.” “I was certainly lucky to inherit such a lucrative legacy, and it only gets that much more so as all of this… business... wears on.” she said cheerfully, though she only got more excited at the prospect of Noëlle entering a new, lucrative chapter in her own life. “Oh, the possibilities! It’s much more fun when you don’t actually need to work. You can do what you like, and leave the boring stuff for someone else. Surely there are plenty of niches that could use your brilliance! Do you have any ideas so far?” “Only starting my own skin care range and bankrupting Madam Primpernelle,” Noëlle replied, still bitter that she was being used for the range for ‘mature women’ now. “Though with Diagon how it is, I might not even have to do anything for that to happen. I wouldn’t want to have a business there until they clear out all the Wandless.” Eleanor wrinkled her nose. “Salazar, no. Frankly, I don’t understand why they’re even keeping them there. If they’re not going to lock them up, at least drop them off in the muggle world to crawl under a bridge somewhere. What’s the point?” She shuddered before composing herself again. “A skin care range sounds like a wonderful idea, though—perhaps you could buy Madam Primpernelle out once the Wandless finally chase all her customers off.” “People don’t tell you how brilliant you are nearly enough, Eleanor,” Noëlle complimented her friend, smiling widely at the thought of taking over the store that had hired her when she had no money. “You’ll always be welcome to the friends and family discount.” Eleanor beamed. “Why thank you, Noëlle. With such a brilliant witch at the helm, your future business is sure to crush all its competition. I look forward to it,” she said brightly, raising her teacup to her friend. “Likewise, your husbands are always welcome here.” She gave Noëlle a conspiratorial grin and patted the coffin. Noëlle raised her teacup in return, smiling back at Eleanor. “I would never trust them with anyone else. Only the best for my beloveds.” |