gretchen-whoisleft:
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to do any draping at all—and feeling ugly in a way that Gretchen Ollivander never did, and only a supremely cursed, outdated dress could inspire.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.
safiyeece:
Safiye and Harper sat in companionable silence as they waited for their drinks to arrive. Once the tray popped into the room, Safiye picked up Harper’s elderflower cocktail and took a sip. “Oh, it’s sweet, you’ll like this one.” Saf smiled and passed the glass to Harper. She didn’t quite have the same sweet tooth as her friend, but she knew Harper’s taste nonetheless. She accepted her own glass in return and inhaled deeply before taking a sip. The scent was almost as good as the flavor, but of course the two senses were tied together.
Safiye enjoyed her drink for a moment, considering. There was a fine line she and Harper walked in their friendship between caring for each other and not prying too deeply into their secrets. Safiye knew that early Summer was a difficult time of year for Harper, both through observation and through common sense. She wanted to ask how Harper was handling the season, without crossing one of their unspoken lines. She balanced the different stressors in Harper’s life in her mind, and decided that her birthday would be the least invasive topic to inquire about.
“So, how are you feeling about turning 23 soon?” Safiye asked the question obliquely, as if the prospect of being 23 was the source of concern, not the birthday itself. It got close enough to the heart of the matter to give Harper an opening if she wanted to talk, but at the same time gave her a convenient out if she didn’t. It was the kind of circular conversation that Safiye wasn’t the biggest fan of, but she didn’t resent the use of it for Harper’s sake.
Harper grinned as Safiye helped herself to the elderflower cocktail before passing it over. She bemusedly indulged her friend’s wafting of the plum drink, taking advantage of the hesitation to snag the drink and sample it, herself. Seconds later she placed it back into Saf’s hand, as if it had never left in the first place, and shot her wide, innocent eyes while struggling to keep a straight face.
Taking a sip of her own cocktail, Harper savored the taste, indulging her secret sweet tooth. “Damn, I did well with these drinks” she mused aloud.
She heard Safiye’s question, understood what she was asking, and very much appreciated the tact that her friend used by giving her an out if she wanted one. But truth be told, Harper wasn’t feeling much about it, at least not much that she’d been able to express. There was so much to feel and process that instead she just kind of shut it all down. She paused in thought, grasping for words to verbalize her complex mix of feelings. With almost anyone else, she would shrug it off, play it cool, calm, confident, and collected; but here with Saf, Harper was sure that the struggle was playing out on her face.
“I mean, it is what it is, I guess. Can’t exactly change my birthday or the other stuff… I think this year I might try to strike a middle balance” Harper started tentatively. “Not plan a big thing, but recognize the day, try to enjoy it— whatever that means or wherever that takes me— brunch, shopping, maybe going out,” She was creating the idea as she spoke it, selling herself on it as she went.
In a more hushed tone she added, “If I don’t expect anything I can’t really be disappointed,” It was a concept Harper was quite familiar with, but saying it to another person suddenly made it feel very jarring. Her words hung in the hair for a moment, though not with tension; she and Safiye could say these things to each other and be met with compassion and the knowledge that there was someone who saw them.
Harper closed her notebook and shuffled her papers into a pile before locking them all in the desk drawer of one of her office suites. Glancing at her watch, she let out a sigh as she wondered where the evening had gone. Hadn’t it just been half six? She knew she hadn’t been working quite so effectively this afternoon, but Harper really didn’t mind as she had been burying herself in busywork; she’d done too well it seemed, as she’d intended to head out a couple hours back.
She stood up, shaking her hair out before pressing her index fingers into her temples, massaging them slightly. She headed to the dressing table and mirror, where a smaller version of her makeup collection lived; Harper’s eyes wandered over the various items, ultimately opting to refresh her eye makeup, adding some sparkle to her lids, along with eyeliner and mascara. She swiped on some fresh lipstick before giving herself a once over, and grabbing her small purse from inside the larger bag by her desk on her way out.
Deciding on the path of least resistance, she headed downstairs to the hotel’s bar. It was typically decently populated on any given night, even more so because it was a Friday. Harper took pride in the fact that there was a diverse crowd; middle and upper-middle-aged professionals, singles and couples of various ages and stages, groups of young partiers bar-hopping.
As she approached the crowd, Harper scanned it for any familiar faces, perking up when she spotted Ava Avery across the room. Harper didn’t know her too well, but the girls sometimes ran into each other on nights out, and tended to share some casual company and chit-chat when they did. Noticing that Ava seemed to be alone, Harper expertly navigated her way through the room, arriving next to her and trying to grab her attention without startling the woman, “Ava, hey” she started with a soft smile.
@ava-avery
ava-avery:
Ava grinned as she took her newly made drink, lifting it up to take a sip to test it out. Not that she was ever picky, and it turned out that being friends with the owner resulted in getting the good stuff. “Thank you kindly,” she told Harper. “Well, now that you’ve been good and worked all day, you most definitely deserve some well-earned fun. I’m happy you chose this path; I was starting to worry I’d have to spend my evening alone.”
Not that Ava was ever stuck alone unless she wanted to be. There were always someone to talk to, someone to drink with. But the bar had seemed boringly tame until Harper had walked in. It was much more fun to party with a drinking buddy than to nod politely as some suit talked about his business.
“I’ve just been here a little while. Helped a friend of mine meet a bloke. Some blind-date she’d been put up on, wanted some courage – liquid and otherwise,” she explained, taking another sip. Ava looked up at Harper, giving her a friendly grin. “So far it’s been pretty uneventful; no drinks tossed or anyone stripping. But the night is still young! There’s a group of three girls in the corner that’s just ordered their second round of martinis since I got here. If I’d bet on any excitement happening, I’d reckon they are a good choice.”
-
“Alone? You? Never… At least, not for long” Harper laughed with Ava, “Although Mr. Suit over there seemed like he was enjoying a semi-captive audience to talk about himself to. That’s really sweet of you to accompany your friend, though. Blind dates can be… well…” She gave a little shudder and punctuated the sentence with a sip of her drink. Not that she’d actually gone on a blind date— any sort of date, actually— in quite some time, but the sentiment was the same regardless.
Harper listened as Ava told her about the group of girls in the corner. She appreciated that the younger woman was also the type to pick up on that sort of thing. Casually glancing over at them, Harper guessed that they were around her age, give or take a couple years, but she didn’t recognize them at first glance. Hmm,” she started, the corner of her mouth turning up into a half smirk, “What do you think they’re on about? Post-breakup cheer up? Birthday? Just a girl’s night out?” While she wasn’t keen on being involved in drama, herself, Harper loved to hear the gossip (or at least speculate), even if it was about random bar-goers she’d never see again.
The dragging day of working alone must have really put her in a state tonight, because after taking a long sip of her drink, she wondered aloud to Ava, “Do we want to find out?”
safiyeece:
As the closest friend Safiye had, Harper saw more of her than anyone else, more of her humor and more of her frustration. It was always a relief when she could sip wine with Harper and mock the more farcical aspects of her life. Somehow it was never depressing to think about the more frustrating parts of her life with Safiye was with Harper like it was when she was alone. The other woman’s presence, and her understanding was everything to Safiye.
She listened to Harper’s story with increasingly wide eyes, enjoying the show as Harper reenacted the whole episode from her day. Safiye shook her head at a few key moments in the story, just enough to keep Harper going, and when they finally reached the story’s conclusion Safiye threw her head back and laughed. It was the perfect vignette to make Safiye feel better about her own life. The absurdity of the whole situation belonged in the most elite pureblood parlor, shared by the women who truly did believe that the whole world, right down to the flowers, should bow to their whims and tastes.
When Harper asked about the meeting she’d attended, Safiye rolled her eyes and took a fortifying drink of wine. Then, she sat up straight in her most perfect Pureblood Princess posture. “Oh yes, we were very productive. First, we spent a good hour congratulating ourselves on just how simply wonderful our last event was, and yet after all that time I’m still not sure what exactly the event was, other than exquisite. We wrapped up the meeting by bemoaning the upcoming auction for the Society for the Upkeep of Wizarding Historical Artifacts and how we cannot possibly hope to outdo Marya Warrington at our next event.” Safiye settled back against the sofa and sighed. “So it was precisely the usual.”
-
“Oh how lovely!” Harper enthused, honeyed voice and widened eyes. “Every event simply must be more exquisite than the last!” she let out an un-ladylike snicker, interrupting her impression. She was glad that she could make Safiye laugh; she hated to see her friend so tense and frustrated. Besides, when they exchanged their ridiculous stories and encounters, it allowed Harper to forget about the tension that typically filled the cracks of her everyday life.
And as much as she did enjoy her alone time, she was getting quite lonely. That just made her value the time spent with Safiye even more.
“Technically we could do it, you know,” Harper started, knowing full well that neither of them could actually do what she was about to say.
“We could just pick up for a while and get away from here; galavanting around beautiful and exciting places, meeting new people, doing daring things. You could write your poetry and fall in love; I could…” she trailed off, not sure how she even intended to end her statement. She turned to look at Safiye and shrugged. They sat in a comfortable, if not slightly wistful, silence for a few moments. Harper looked down at her hands, fiddling with the rings on her fingers.
She finished the last of the wine, and, determined to keep the night going and spirits up, looked back to Safiye, her lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “I’m not getting stuck down the sad wine-tipsy road. Not tonight. We need some more fun” With a renewed determination, Harper summoned the drink and dessert menus over to them. “Take your pick,” she told Safiye as she passed one to her. “And you should know that I made sure we put that plum drink you like so much back on this season’s menu”
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.”
Harper Baddock 23. BDK Hotels Owner/Heiress. Ravenclaw Alumna. Featured in Transfiguration Today
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