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

“Cheers to female friendships being complicated.”

Started in Beautiful Rooms // Harper and Antonin

Approaching the Malfoy Malfoy Manor simultaneously comforted Harper while also setting her on edge. It oozed elegance and class, along with mystery and foreboding; just her type. She was intrigued by it, and to some extent, that worried her. Less so than it had in the past, but there was still a dull, nagging concern in the back of her mind.

“How did I get here?” she sometimes asked herself, flashing through memories of the intense and turbulent series of events that led to her current arrangement. She stopped herself before she could get too far. Wrong time, wrong place. She had a job to do and an image to uphold.

Many of the BDK hotels were large and sophisticated, and Harper had no problem walking into those with an air of confidence and ownership, but here? Here she felt dwarfed. Sometimes she even felt that the perfectly manicured shrubbery hissed at her presence. None of this was helped by the fact that, unlike most of the Death Eaters, Harper was not allowed to apparate into the manor. She knew why that was; because she was a half-blood. It didn’t matter that she was smarter than most of them, and perhaps more talented, to boot. According to them, she was lesser. Momentarily clenching her hands into fists and looking down at her shoes, she took a deep breath and tried to channel the attitude she could usually put on so well, before lifting her head and venturing forward up the walkway to the manor’s ornate front door.

Upon reaching it, Harper hesitated. Was she to knock? Was she to ring the bell? She doubted it was in her best interest to just walk in, though that was what she would prefer to do. Attempting to gain some control over the situation, she gave two raps on the door, paused a second, and tested the handle, discovering the door was unlocked.

Harper was acutely aware, as she crossed the threshold, that the door being unlocked was no coincidence. And although there was no one in sight, she instinctively knew that she was being watched. Perhaps someone wanted to observe how she behaved when she thought she was alone, or perhaps it was just another demeaning tactic. Adjusting her bag on her shoulder, she entered the room to her right. It appeared to be a sitting room (likely one of many), with portraits adorning the walls. Intrigued, Harper began to examine them, beginning with the one closest to the door, intending to make her way from there to the other side. She was only a couple of pictures in when she sensed a presence at the doorway, and looked over her shoulder to see who it was.

@antonin-whoisleft​

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.

lilyeliora·:

Lily smiled a soft, patient smile as she watched the other woman struggle and not entirely succeed in covering up her surprise. It was something Lily was used to, especially in people who didn’t know her well. She never felt like the way she acted was anything extraordinary, but others seemed to think so. It might have been easy to think she was too kind, too genuine, that she cared too much, but she always had Howell’s voice in her mind telling her her heart was her strength and she should never let her mind drown out her gut. Lily Evans did not grow up in a vacuum, and she was shaped by her father’s  life, taking  on  his philosophies for herself. 

So when the brunette finally spoke, Lily didn’t laugh or tease her for babbling, or for never owning a pet which seemed unthinkable to Lily. Instead, she just did what  she  did best and leaned into the good. “That’s so exciting, I’d love to help! I’m  Lily  Evans.” Lily held her hand out to  shake. 

At first Lily was taken aback by the question about her cat. How did this woman know she owned a cat? Was she being watched? Was this woman a death eater? Lily forced herself to push away the thought, dismissing it as paranoia. Surely, after May, the aurors and especially the Order would tell her if she was in danger. She looked down and recognized the black hairs clinging to her t-shirt. She almost laughed at her momentary, absurd suspicions. “I actually got my cat from a shelter in my hometown, but I like to window shop here sometimes.” Sometimes, as if it wasn’t something she did at least once a week.

-

Hearing that Lily adopted her cat from a hometown shelter, Harper couldn’t help but wonder what that her life growing up must have been like. She pictured rolling green hills and a warm environment; one where parents encouraged their kids to pet, play with, and get attached to animals. Perhaps that was too idealistic; after all she really didn’t know anything about this girl and her background, not beyond the little she had just learned. Despite this, Harper couldn’t help but feel a pang of wistfulness, especially when she compared it to her own upbringing; though she immediately felt guilty for doing so. She knew it wasn’t meant to leave her so isolated, that her parents did want the best for her. But at the end of the day, azoy gait es (that’s the way it goes), as her grandmother used to say.

“Harper Baddock” she introduced herself, shaking the woman’s outstretched hand with a practiced ease and instinctively flashing her go-to smile, “I’m so sorry, I just noticed the cat hair on your shirt, and extrapolated” she explained soothingly, recognizing the spooked look that had quickly crossed Lily’s face. With her own strong tendency towards privacy, Harper understood the concern that arose when someone knew something about her that she didn’t expect.

“So,” she continued, slightly quirking an eyebrow, “I can’t promise this will be exciting or even successful, but if you do really want to help, please, be my guest,” Harper gestured toward the door between them, allowing Lily to go in ahead of her.

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.

You’re so calm and quiet, you never say. But there are things inside you. I see them sometimes, hiding in your eyes.

Tracy Chevalier, Girl with a Pearl Earring  (via roseir)

23 and Me //

Waking up and turning 23, Harper really didn’t feel much different than she had the night before. Which wasn’t a complaint, per se. But some silly little bit of hope inside her still gleamed… Maybe she would wake up and the mere act of turning another year older would just make something click into place; maybe she would finally have the answers instead of searching for them whilst pretending she already had them.

Part of her wanted to go out and celebrate; she craved the rare moment of letting herself be the center of attention. Harper was all too familiar with this conundrum. She tried to celebrate as normal, or at least as close to normal as could be, for the year or two after her parents passed. Not her best idea, though she was loath to admit it. The whole thing left Harper a whirlwind of emotions, and she spent the following couple of days holed up by herself in her apartment.

So after a few years of downplaying and minimizing the day, Harper decided that this year she would take a different approach. She’d let it be known that she’d be out and about for brunch and some shopping, and see where the day took her. No expectations of anything or for anyone besides herself.

Strolling through Diagon Alley, wearing one of her favorite summer outfits and reveling in the sound of her shoes clicking on cobblestone, Harper slowed as she approached Flourish and Blotts. She raised a brow and pursed her lips in thought. She was about to estimate how much time she could spend in the store before she’d have to drag herself away in order to get to brunch, before again realizing her only restriction today was, well, herself. She didn’t feel hungry yet, so deciding that food could wait, Harper entered the store and took a deep breath in, appreciating the smell of books and stationery.

rxtaskeeter​:

date: 2nd august, 1978 time: 7am location: diagon alley OPEN

Rita did not consider herself to be an early bird or a night owl. She found labels of all kinds to be unnecessary and extremely limiting (heterosexual, gossip columnist, Muggleborn), and these were no exception. Not only that, but neither really applied to her, being one of those freakish souls who could survive on astonishingly little sleep; falling into her bed at 2am after a long night of writing and bouncing out of bed again at 5:30am so that she could be one of the first in the office.

That being said, there was something about mornings that she found incredibly energising - the possibilities, the blank slate. Living on Diagon Alley certainly helped, her curiosity always propelling her out of her flat to watch all the shops open, their wares for the day displayed outside or in the windows. Her pace would slow as she passed the market stalls, eyes scanning to see if there was anything worth buying or writing about (there never was) as she sipped a coffee bought along the way.

It was a warm morning already, and Rita happily sat on a bench in the sun, soaking it up as much as she could ahead of her long day in a room where sunlight was often obscured by cigarette smoke and many enormous male egos. Her eyes had closed in contentment for a moment, only for a shadow to fall across her face seconds later and cause her to open them again, expression confused until she registered who it was.

“Oh, it’s you. I wasn’t expecting to see you until later.”

-

Harper’s schedule could easily vary from one day to the next. A perk of more or less being your own boss, she supposed, though she was acutely aware that her situation was much more complex than that. Usually when it started this early, though, she tended to opt for either apparating or she had stayed over at whichever hotel she had to be at the night before. But this morning she had just risen extra early; it seemed like it was shaping up to be a warm, beautiful August day, and Harper knew that the fresh air would be good for her.

She stopped to grab an iced coffee on her way from her flat to the hotel, a light breeze on her back as she strolled. Slowing down as she walked passed some benches, scanning for any familiar faces, Harper caught the glimpse of a face and some blonde hair that she surely recognized as Rita.

Sitting down next to her, she gave a small smile to the younger woman. “I know” she nodded, “usually we run into each other around lunch time or later in the day. But you’ve gotta change it up sometimes, as I’m sure you know” Harper swirled her cup around in her hands before taking a sip through the straw. “How’s work going?” she continued, “The hustle and bustle of the Prophet keeping you on your toes?”