[OOC: from here!]The shopping area she'd suggested was not as central to gossip as Diagon or surveillance as Knockturn. Going out among Muggles was really too big a risk on two fronts—the Muggles themselves, and being reported.
The tea room Meda recommended looked all right: charming and inconspicuous. Cissa paused outside. She wasn't given to fidgeting—she'd had a poise since childhood that could conjure tiny crystal quadrupeds and oversee a score of Elves on house finance while balancing four books and Aunt Walburga's cat on her head. It gotten her praise from the Parents and driven Bella raving. (…what didn't, though…) Right now, though, the fingers of one gloved hand worked at those of the other.
Cissa hoped she'd dressed correctly. She wanted to show nicely enough as befit their shared House (because, yes, in the important ways, she and Meda would always remain sisters Black) to show respect and welcome, while also inconspicuous (usually the opposite of intent). Oh well. Cissa was rather good at Glamours, but that felt foolish, so nothing to do about it now. She entered the tea room.
The interior matched the outside with a nice balance of formality and comfort. They may not be at the heart of Society here, but this place still knew how to comport to it. Meda's choice of table, as agreed, was not in its own separate room but in a far corner for privacy.
Good. In all ways, Meda's once-unchallenged taste and judgment was nicely displayed.
Cissa couldn't help stiffening her shoulders and back. Once, Meda was the only company Cissa could
relax with. They'd see how things were, now…
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