The-harperbaddock - (False) Bravado

fabianprewtt​:

“Hey…” Soft footfalls stopped, grounding Fabian in an indecisive stance. Not quite an uncomfortable one - maybe slightly - but one more of trying to avoid intrusion yet acknowledge Harper once she had spoken. If the actual location wasn’t indicating wanting solitude enough, Harper’s book and black clothes seemed like bright, blaring signals that she might want to be left alone. Yet, she had spoken, and thus Fabian had stopped. 

She was a fellow Ravenclaw. They had lived together for years in that tower. She wasn’t a stranger - or, well, adulthood perhaps had made them that, but still. Not a complete stranger. Fabian considered what more to say, not a loss of words per se, but trying to feel what would be the best course - asking how she was seemed quite pointless, catching up unfitting, unless Harper led the conversation there. It ended with him gesturing softly at Harper’s book. 

“What are you reading?”

-

If, when she looked up, it had just been some unknown passerby, Harper likely would have returned to her book, doubling down on her oblivion and indifference to the outside world. But when she recognized Fabian, she felt compelled at least say a little something. The thought that maybe now, of all times, the networking instinct was kicking in, almost made her chuckle with its absurdity.

They hadn’t spoken often since their last night at Hogwarts. A night that was supposed to be a whirlwind of joy and excitement, with some other understandably mixed emotions thrown in, ultimately ended up a night marked, for Harper, by shockwaves and tear stains. Sometimes it felt like the past five years had been centuries, other times, just a few months. Seeing Fabian made it feel quicker; it brought back fond memories of late nights in Ravenclaw Tower, talking, studying, hanging around.

“Pride and Prejudice” Harper answered sheepishly, eyes darting from the cover of her book back to Fabian. “I’m not usually one for romance novels,” she explained, “but a friend suggested I give one a try… and this—“ she hesitated, thumbing through the pages, “this was my mother’s copy.” Harper could have stopped sharing after that, instead continued on. “I guess now felt as fitting as ever to give it a try,” she mused, gesturing towards the elegant headstone to her left. It was sizable without being tacky, and clearly the pair of the one to her right.

“So, how about you?” Harper asked, before realizing her mistake, “I mean, how are you doing? Not what are you reading… Unless that’s what you want to answer. I mean—” she put a hand to her face, mortified at tripping over her own words this way.

Art museums, fancy restaurants with an outdoor sitting, satin silk dresses, perfume, wine glasses and pretty views.

mature conversations mixed with a lil flirting and joking >>>>

safiyeece​:

Safiye smiled when Harper swiped her drink. The faux innocent look on her face was unnecessary, they always did this. It was a little way of sharing their lives with each other. Even though they both had their secrets, they always sampled each other’s drinks. 

Safiye swirled her drink around its glass as she listened to Harper. She was glad Harper had decided to celebrate her birthday, even in a small way. After all of her losses and hard work, Harper deserved to celebrate herself however she saw fit. “I’m happy for you. I know it’s a hard time of year, but I’m glad that’s not stopping you from doing a little something. Let me know if you want any company.” 

It was the sort of thing Safiye said often, but usually it was done out of courtesy, because it was the proper thing to say. She rarely meant it, but this time she did. Safiye valued her solitude, treasured the rare moments by herself that she was able to steal from her two competing lives, but she was willing to sacrifice for Harper’s sake. Particularly on a historically hard day, Safiye wanted to be there for her friend, if she was wanted.

When Harper talked about keeping her expectations low, Safiye took a long sip of her drink. “That’s true,” she finally admitted. There wasn’t much else she could say on the subject. It was the most fundamental difference between the two young women. Harper was an expert at managing her expectations, Safiye was not. She wasn’t sure if it was because she couldn’t or because she refused to, but either way Safiye never kept her expectations low. It meant she lived in a constant well of disappointment, true, but for Safiye there was no alternative. She wanted more from her life, she expected more from her life, even though it was not reasonable to do so.

-

That was one of the things Harper admired about Saf. Unlike her own pessimistic— or realistic, as she insisted to herself—outlook, Safiye always had dreams and expectations in high places. Harper knew all too well that this sometimes led to dashed hopes and disappointments for her friend, but it never had and never would deter her being there to support her. While never to the same extent as Safiye, in the past Harper had once allowed herself more optimism. But that felt not only like it was ages ago, but like it was a version of herself that was no longer.

“Some company would probably be nice, whether it’s for brunch, shopping, or back at one of my places at night. Whatever works with your schedule and however the day goes, I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” Harper, in turn, sipped her drink, eyeing the nearby plate of biscuits.

“I can’t believe it’s really been five years,” she started, “Since graduation, since… everything” she gestured at the hotel room around her, knowing Safiye would catch her drift. “Sometimes I feel like this is just stalling… waiting for something to happen and for real life to begin,” she reflected, “I just don’t know what” She looked at the other woman and chuckled a bit. “Maybe it’s like one of your romance novels. I just need to meet the one” Harper teased, over-emphasizing the last two words, “and it will all fall into place.” She was joking, but couldn’t help but wonder if maybe there was some yearning behind it.

“Well, what would happen next in one of those books?” she asked, taking another sip of her drink, before finally giving in and reaching over to the plate. “After all, you’re the expert” Harper finished, nibbling on the biscuit she’d grabbed.

Chasing Tails //

Harper was never really an animal person. That was one of the reasons she was never inclined to become an animagus, despite knowing that she technically could, and perhaps should. Not to mention her job owning the hotels was eventually inevitable, and there wasn’t much benefit that being or having an animal could provide in that context.

But loneliness sunk in, especially with her parents passing and her leaving Hogwarts, where there was nearly always built in company of some sort. She resigned herself to that loneliness for a while, but the idea of adopting a pet, having a built in companion, popped up now and again. Sometimes she’d walk through Diagon Alley until she reached the Magical Menagerie, where she would casually window shop. A bit overwhelmed by all the smells and noises, she rarely ventured deeper inside.

How… how did people go about adopting pets? Harper wondered to herself. Did they just pick their favorite looking one? Was there supposed to be some special connection? Was it supposed to be like a getting your wand experience, where your pet picks you?

Maybe she wasn’t ready for this after all. She imperceptibly shook her head. No, Harper. You’re almost 23 years old, and you have the means to take care of an animal. Plenty of other people do it, so you can too. Stop getting in your own damn head and just do it. She was about to mentally debate back to herself when she felt a presence at the window next to her. Looking up with wide eyes, she stammered “Um, sorry, I’ll get out of your way.”

gretchen-whoisleft​:

always a bridesmaid // gretchen and harper

Gretchen stood perched on a platform in the center of London’s Gladrags Wizardwear storefront, but neither the many mirrors propped up around the room—best to see every angle with, trifolds of glass catching the fading afternoon light outside and bouncing it around the room—nor the glass of complimentary champagne in her hand could distract her from pouting. 

In almost twenty-three years of life, she’d had her fair share of setbacks and well-justified tantrums. There was a lot to be said, too, for this ‘not being the end of the world’ and ‘not holding a candle to the war, which was far more important and was more deserving of her time.’ 

But even as a young adult and—in her estimation—a war hero in the making, Gretchen could not make peace with the fact that her mother was remarrying. 

The sting was not helped by the bridesmaid dress she was currently trying on for size, stuck with pins and clips and an uncomfortable, borrowed pair of shoes—to get a sense of how the material would drape, if it had been made out of a material nice enough to do any draping at all—and feeling ugly in a way that Gretchen Ollivander never did, and only a supremely cursed, outdated dress could inspire. 

The beleaguered tailor had realized that the only way to get Gretchen to stand still through the already-overlong fitting was to ply her with more free champagne than the shop’s policy typically allowed. Assuming they were the only two in the store, Gretchen called out to her, frowning and trying to nudge her cleavage into something that even bordered on visible. 

“I know it needs to be tasteful because it’s a wedding and all, but are you sure we can’t take some more material out of the chest?” she asked – voice carrying, encouraged by the champagne. “And I do still think it would look better in white. The bride shouldn’t get to claim it for this one; she already has three children, nobody has any misconceptions about her history.” 

-

Harper had only been in Gladrags for a few minutes, keeping her head down as she browsed, looking to see if anything new had arrived in the past few days since she’d last been in, while she waited for the tailor to be ready for her. She’d planned on entering the shop with a witty remark to the woman about her favorite— or at least, her most frequent— customer arriving. But as Harper moved to open the door, she caught a glimpse of a pout, mostly shrouded in blonde hair and a ton of dress material, and promptly decided to enter as unnoticed as possible. Whatever was going on, she knew it was best to keep her intrigue from being too obvious. Luckily, the blonde woman was far too caught up in her own misery (and champagne) to notice.

When she heard the woman’s voice call out to the tailor, however, Harper’s head snapped up and she abandoned her previous strategy, instead walking towards the room’s central platform. “Gretchen Ollivander, as I live and breathe” she started, breaking into a smile, “It’s been far too long since I’ve heard from you.”

For a moment, Harper wanted to reach out and hug Gretchen, internally very taken aback by the thought crossing her mind. She thought, with a pang, that maybe it was a sign of just how isolated she was, but quickly banished that train of thought from her mind.

Piecing together the situation she continued on, responding to Grechen’s remark to the tailor, “But no, you cannot wear white to your mother’s wedding, even though it would be, um… a small step in the right direction for this dress”

Both of the young women laughed and Gretchen lifted her hand holding the champagne flute, toasting to the sentiment. “So, when’s this wedding?” Harper asked, settling herself into a chair off to the side of the tri-folded mirrors.

ravenclaw✨ intelligent • witty • creative

safiyeece​:

It was always a relief to Safiye to feel known by Harper, even if not fully. She spent so much of her time reflecting back what people expected of her, fighting to live up to high expectations, none higher than her own. So much of her life was a high wire act, it was nice to sit with Harper and just be, and know that Harper saw her, even if she didn’t understand it all.

“I’ll make room whenever you want me, just let me know.” It was not a promise Safiye made lightly. On any given day she had to contend with her mother’s plans for her, any commitments she might have to the Order, and carving out some quiet time for herself, and this rarely left room for impromptu plans.But you made sacrifices for your closest friends, and Safiye was well used to sacrificing for far less.

Safiye hummed in agreement with what Harper was saying, She herself was never able to escape the nagging feeling of lack. Like there was something more out there, something that was waiting for her. It was part of what had driven her to join the Order, and what kept her there, despite being generally unwelcome. Still, even her nighttime vigilante work wasn’t enough. She still felt, as Harper put it, stalled.

She chuckled at Harper’s question. Knowing it was all in good fun she still considered it seriously. “Well, five years after a horrible tragedy is probably around when you would meet him. He’d be utterly inappropriate at first. Either too poor, or too rich, and probably rude, but there would be an unspoken attraction neither of you could deny.” Safiye broke off her faux serious monologue to giggle, then picked back up. “You are the perfect romantic heroine, though. Serious and dedicated, but secretly longing for more.”

-

“I appreciate that Saf” Harper said, knowing that her friend having an open day was a rarity (and not just because she preferred to have most things scheduled).

But when Safiye starting putting thought into answering the question Harper asked— mostly jokingly— she was intrigued. Her chin rested in her hands and her drink sat unsipped as she listened intently. But she gave a scowl with no malice behind it at ‘probably rude, but there would be an unspoken attraction neither of you could deny’

“I cannot for the life of me decide whether I love that or hate that idea. Undeniable chemistry? Sign me up. But having to deal with someone rude first…. Well,” she considered, tilting her head, “I suppose it would depend on what type of rude they are.” Harper’s giggles joined Saf’s. She couldn’t imagine talking to anyone else like this, being able to know without explaining exactly what she meant by different types of rudeness (and there were plenty).

But when Safiye continued her monologue, she yet again had Harper’s rapt attention. Harper couldn’t help but feel touched and seen, but the logical part of her brain scolded her and kept her skeptical. “Me? The perfect romantic heroine? With my bizarre hours, contradictory personality and… affection for alcohol.” She took a big sip as if to punctuate the sentiment. “But you? Growing up full of glamor and beauty; invitations to balls and charity events; getting a taste of freedom and losing it; and the most important requirement— being a hopeless romantic,” Harper over-emphasized those last words before dissolving back into giggles.

“Seriously though, I know I tease you about it, but I think it’s amazing that you’re in touch with that side of yourself and what you want. It’s a good thing… Even if it does give me some of my favorite fodder against you” Harper said, sticking out her tongue.