Fabianprewtt​:

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to do any draping at all—and feeling ugly in a way that Gretchen Ollivander never did, and only a supremely cursed, outdated dress could inspire.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.

Simon Alexandre-Clement Denis - Study of Clouds with a Sunset near Rome (detail)

Harper Moodboard 1/?

(Off)White x Gold

Florence Welch, from “Useless Magic: Lyrics & Poetry”

The piercing dichotomy of wanting to socialize and be part of society, while also wanting to disassociate yourself from people and all the chaos in the world.

🥀

Five Years Later

Harper wasn’t one to talk much about her parents or their passing. It sometimes came up in business, but thankfully most people knew better. Mostly through common courtesy, though a rare few because they knew her. These past five years were supposed to be some of the happiest years of her life, beginning with with graduation from Hogwarts, and consisting of living it up and making the most of the rest of her young adulthood. But instead, they became the most stressful and lonely.

At the time, the summer of 1973 seemed to both drag on and fly by; but looking back, it was more fuzzy than anything.

Planning a funeral was hard to begin with. Planning a joint funeral? For your parents (who died the night of your graduation)? While also taking over their hotel empire and handling all of the complications that come along with it? Despite not even being 18 yet?

For most, it would be impossible, but Harper knew she had no choice. For her parents and their legacy, for herself and her safety.

The funeral was sad but beautiful. Being planned by Harper and for her parents, there would be nothing less. She spoke in front of the large crowd that attended, remaining composed yet letting the appropriate hints of raw emotion through. She only broke down, herself, once everyone had left, and she was left truly and remarkably alone.

Harper wasn’t one to mind being alone, but this was different. It wasn’t just alone in the sense of “being by herself” or “not with other people,” it was Capital A, Alone, as in not having other people; as in being on her own... For the foreseeable future. A vast sense of isolation set in soon after, and still affected her deeply. Being Harper, of course, she did everything in her power not to let that show, mainly by channeling it into maintaining her reserved, witty, sophisticated, and at times, icy, demeanor. And when Harper put her all into something, she was successful...

Even if the voice inside her warning that it could actually be to her own detriment still hadn’t gone away, five years later.