Miranda/Mark
So. His parents were being total losers, and not allowing him to have a party. So what if he'd drawn up posters of naked men and women to hand out in Diagon Alley? Just because he'd given people the idea that no clothes were required (never actually stated on the parchment!), didn't mean that they were going to take the hint.
Definitely a hint.
Mark found himself in Diagon Alley after his mother dropped him off to let him find some other form of entertainment (and Agatha wasn't legal yet, to apparate him around anywhere he wanted), so he wandered into the Leaky Cauldron, to maybe try and flirt with the bartender to get a drink. Tom had a thing for him, he was sure.
He found something better to flirt with, though, and immediately saddled up beside the waitress who was wiping down an empty table.
"Know anyone who wants to have some fun?" he murmured. The girl whirled around and; oy---she looked barely able to read. What a baby face!
"I! Er---Well..."
"How old are you?" Mark asked, sighing greatly.
"Fif---sixteen. Sixteen," she stuttered, eyes narrowing a little after as a smirk grew. This was intriguing. Mark leaned forward, pushing her back into the table, enjoying the arch they'd created.
"Good enough for me."
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