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Tim/Cecilia
"I mean, really," Tim said with a sigh, putting out the utensils for the dinner. Cecilia was on the other side, begrudgingly setting up the plates, as Adamina was too far along to lean anywhere near the table without bumping into it and knocking down glasses or bowls. His normally pleased-mannered wife had ranted and raved about not having a house-elf. "You don't need a house-elf with a house this sized, I'd--understand a big mansion, but not this."

His ears burnt as he realized he'd somewhat insulted the design and frame of the house he'd built for their family, but he was damn proud of it and couldn't help but comment, even though he was sure Cecilia would think otherwise.

"You're forgetting that my sister is a born and bred Slytherin princess," Cecilia drawled, dropping the last plate as she came around the corner. Tim was having a hard time remembering where the salad fork went, and she snatched it out of his hand and placed it properly, "And a Slytherin princess requires a constant being of servitude."

Tim frowned and turned to her, head tilted slightly with his dubious expression. Now that was just rude. He definitely wasn't fulfilling that role for Adamina. Right? Right! She was his husband, not her house-elf.

"And what else does a Slytherin princess need?" he asked in a snippy tone, straightening his shoulders. Cecilia's eyebrows and she stepped forward. Tim wondered that he might have something on his face, the way she was staring at him, but was absolutely befuddled when she grabbed his collar and pulled him into a kiss.

"They need scandal," she murmured, dropping her grasp and hurrying up the stairs to respond to Adamina's calls.