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Neatly signing her name next to several large numbers, Lyra was enjoying potentially spending money of absurd things no one really needed but everyone wanted. A lovers cooking lesson? 50 galleons, because why not. A weekend trip for two to Paris? 100 galleons. She had the money to spend and the chances she would be outbid before the evening ended were pretty damn high, so it really was a win-win situation. A flash bulb went off and Lyra glanced up from the auction sheet she was signing her name to (a night at the Russian ballet) and saw paparazzo pointing a camera at her. "If you're not going to respect my privacy," she said lightly, "then at least be sure your readers know about this very important cause. Are you putting in details so your readers can donate?" She repositioned herself into a more aesthetically pleasing pose for the camera as she finished writing in her bid, not bothering to listen whether some poor blokes reading the Sunday paper on the toilet tomorrow would know where to send their measly knuts. So long as her picture was in the paper and she made a good impression, that was really what tonight was all about. And catching up with friends, of course, though she hadn't bothered to check in with Anna in a while.

The meals had come around but Lyra wasn’t much interested in eating. Anna made a show of moving her food about her plate while the table listened to some long-winded dragon dung about a bloke wanting a Yeti skin rug but Lyra was growing restless. “I’m going to have a look at the auction items,” she said, pushing her seat back quietly and lifting her champagne flute from the table as she stood and left the group to wander around on her own for a bit.

The speeches started up and Lyra and her friend fell silent out of respect, or at least out expectation. She liked to put on a show about supporting charities and these sorts of causes because it made for good press and it was good for her reputation as a celebrity but Lyra didn’t really care all that much. In reality, she wasn’t even sure what tonight’s even was supporting. Or protesting. She just knew that it was raising funds, or maybe awareness, for some cause that her publicist thought was good for her image. The fact that Annabelle was also going and had “invited” her was a plus, so she could at least have a bit of fun throughout the evening. The speeches ended and Lyra joined the crowd in a respectful applause before leaning over to Anna and remarking, “I’ve done full productions that were shorter than those speeches.”

A street cleaner? Lyra turned her nose up as Annabelle spilled the dirty details. How she had missed that bit of gossip was beyond Lyra’s understanding, but she had been busy with her career, plus Quinn did take up quite a bit of her time. “That’s nothing compared to the filth Gertie has been rumored to be seeing. She won’t admit it of course, it’d be the end of her social status, but I’ve got it on good authority that she’s been seeing a muggle shop keep.” Whether Gertrude had actually been fraternizing with lowly muggles was none of Lyra’s business, but she’d heard through the grapevine and that was all the fact-checking Lyra cared to do. Anyone who didn’t immediately renounce such disgusting gossip was clearly hiding something.

Lyra listened politely as Annabelle regaled her with her most recent travels. “Oh, Bali! How fun. I remember when I first started planning my own holidays and I thought Bali was just the most exotic place…” She gave a smile teetered right in between sweet and snobbish. “I should definitely visit again, though I’m sure Quinn has something a little more sophisticated in mind.” Lyra’s calendar was full but that didn’t mean she was too busy to plan out her own holidays. Quinn, obviously, had a say in their trip as well, but they were both well aware that Lyra would get her way as soon as she figured out what it was she wanted. It was that last bit that was usually the problem, as Lyra wanted it all. Quinn was very good in helping her in that regard. “We’re thinking maybe Zanzibar although I’ve been missing Thailand lately.” She shrugged her shoulders delicately. “Really, if I wanted to, we could just disappear for a few months and see where we end up.” She paused to take a sip of her champagne before continuing, “but I don’t suppose that would look very good after last year.”

Everyone seemed interested in their own little conversations and Lyra had yet to be asked to serenade them. She wanted to pout but instead spoke with her father about a recent hunting trip he’d been on and was delighted when her dear father dutifully asked after her latest performance. In a show of modesty, Lyra managed to gush about her latest play for only about 20 minutes before allowing her father to change the topic yet again, this time to her mum’s bingo league. Bob and Betty Burke were boring yet reliable, just the way Lyra liked them. They supported her in nearly all her endeavors but never stole the spotlight with their own wild antics. There were ups and downs in their lives but they were by and far the most stable parents of any of Lyra’s friends, and Lyra was rather popular.

The men reappeared with drinks in tow, and soon Lyra had a glass of champagne in hand. Merlin have mercy, if she were expected to make it through an entire children’s party sober that would have been an award worthy performance. “Cheers,” she said to her father, clinking her glass against his before taking a sip. Betty called for Lyra and the blonde turned on the sofa to face her mother. Her mum was asking after some piece of trivia she couldn’t remember and insisting Lyra knew what she was on about. “You’re thinking of Liv, mum, not me.” Betty seemed shocked that she had misremembered something about her children and then inquired if Lyra wasn’t mistaken. Lyra rolled her eyes and laughed good naturedly, turning back to face her father and catching sight of Quinn standing in the doorway. She smiled at him but her view was suddenly blocked as Lilith appeared and thrust baby Alexander into her arms. “Okay then…” Lyra shifted her champagne flute and the baby around into a more comfortable position. “Hullo, love. Is it your birthday, then? You look so big.” Honestly, he was massive. It seemed like just a few days ago Lucian was introducing them to his son for the first time and now suddenly he was turning one! It was mind boggling.

Attentions were turned as Lucian began a little speech by trying to locate his own kid. Lyra raised him up into view as Loosh asked who had him. “Hide and seek champion, aren’t you?” she asked Alec softly as Lucian continued. Blah blah blah. Loosh really played up this Happy Couple image by incessantly praising Clementine and when he threw her name into the toast, Lyra pretended not to hear it. The snooty cow didn’t deserve to be toasted. “To Alec,” she said, bouncing the toddler on her knee with a grin and then taking a generous sip from her glass.

The boys had left the women and grandparents to themselves as Clementine’s sister and Lilith joined the fray. Lyra wasn’t overly interested in holding any of the babies, but then Lucian swept Nathaniel out from his mum’s arms and off to the kitchen, followed shortly by Lilith who had taken Alec away from his adoring fans. "I guess no one gets any babies today..." Leave it to Lilith to wander off with the boy of the hour and leave her alone waiting for Liv and Lysander to show up. This soiree was dull, as far as children’s mid-week birthday party standards went, so Lyra flopped gracefully yet noticeably on the sofa next to her father and rested her head on his shoulder. “Are they good biscuits?” she asked her father as the Nott sisters began whispering. “Eh. Not bad,” he replied, which as far as Lyra was concerned was a glowing review from her father. She held her hand out and her father passed her his biscuit, she took a small nibble and passed it back. “I wonder if Loosh arranged for any entertainment for the occasion,” she mused aloud to the room, happy to fill a hole if the party planner had omitted something accidentally, though wanting to be asked so she could feign modesty before ultimately accepting the position thrust upon her.