“Cheers To Female Friendships Being Complicated.”

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to do any draping at all—and feeling ugly in a way that Gretchen Ollivander never did, and only a supremely cursed, outdated dress could inspire.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

lilyeliora​:

Lily found herself wondering what kind of sad, lonely childhood didn’t have any animals in it. True, the Evans’ budget had always been a little too tight for Lily to have all the pets she wanted, but that had never stopped Lily from befriending every stray that crossed her path, even if just for a day. She couldn’t imagine not  having that history of little interactions that had always made Lily’s day. Hopefully the other woman had siblings, and lots of friends. 

Lily made her way into Magical Menagerie with confidence, greeting the shopkeep by name with a friendly smile. “Don’t worry about it,” she assured Harper, “Finding the right pet is a process, and sometimes it takes a while, we’ll just feel it out.” Despite her words, Lily made it her own private mission to find a pet for Harper. The other woman seemed kind, if a little guarded, like the exact kind of person who needed a warm, friendly animal in their life.

“So, have you thought at all about what kind of pet you want? Something small or large, something aloof or friendly, something to come to work with you or wait patiently at home?” Lily peppered Harper with questions as she led her to the back corner of the shop, away from the cute kittens and the glossy puppies. They stopped near the rescues, older pets who’d already had owners, for good or ill. It might have been a risky move, to take someone who’d never had a pet to the rescues, but Lily thought an older pet would be better for Harper. Besides, maybe a pet in need of healing would help Harper herself heal from whatever wounds left her so unsure of herself.

-

After the picnic incident of her toddler years, Harper’s childhood desire to go wander around outside alone, often what lead to children finding stray animals, was nonexistent. It wasn’t a conscious decision she made, but it showed itself in some ways even still. Going around in a city? Fine with her, even in a city she wasn’t all too familiar with. Anywhere more country-like, and Harper either arranged for accompaniment, or a conflict (where someone else would be sent in her place).

She noted Lily’s familiarity both with the staff and the layout of the shop, and it put her further at ease. She was truly touched by how the younger woman had seemingly taken it upon herself to help her find a pet, with no evident ulterior motive.

Lily began asking her questions about what she was looking for, and Harper realized she didn’t have much in the way of answers. “A dog or a cat, I think” she began, “And probably one that can stay at home while I work,” Harper paused in consideration, as the thought of having an animal around whichever hotel, suite, or office she found herself in crossed her mind. It was enough to make her amend her statement. “Although that could change with the right fit. Same thing with size, I suppose.” She chuckled softly to herself as she imagined walking into various hotels and meetings with a large dog or long-haired cat.

As they passed the puppies and kittens, Harper let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. They were all shades of precious and adorable, but she could feel the energy radiating off of them and was exhausted by the thought of taking one home.

Arriving at the back corner of the shop, Harper was impressed to see the number of animals they had that seemed to be rescues, or at least older than kitten/puppy age. While she was overwhelmed by the experience, she would rather have more options than fewer.

Feeling brave, Harper took a step forward, “Alright then, let’s meet some animals,” she said, almost not recognizing the excitement in her voice. She walked tentatively towards a large dog with a shiny chestnut coat, and reached her hand out for him to sniff… instinctively jumping back when he gave a low growl. Harper wasn’t sure exactly what she was expecting, but she knew that was not it.

“Bergdorf Goodman” 1971

safiyeece​:

-

“Yes, it simply must be!” Safiye simpered along with Harper, then rolled her eyes again. “Nevermind that exponential growth is fundamentally unsustainable.” It was always like this with Safiye, swift shifting between shallow swimming and deeper waters. She was by necessity comfortable with surface interactions, but she craved greater stimulation. Usually, she ignored the urge, pushing it down until it was little more than a vague irritation, but she didn’t go to the same trouble to appear Proper when it was just  her and Harper.

For a moment, Safiye allowed herself to imagine it. Her hand went to the watch in her pocket and she traced its outline as she pictured seeing the world with Harper at her side, showing her friend around Istanbul, even reconnecting with Dilara. But the memory of her fallen cousin pushed Safiye out of her reverie and she shook her head. They could, technically, but at what cost? 

“Oh, but think of all of the Society we would miss.” The joke came out thin and dry. Safiye knew all too well that neither she nor Harper would truly miss the society they’d grown up in. Sometimes she craved a lack of it, and though they danced around the subject, never openly addressing it, she had a feeling Harper did as well. The truth of it was like the sun, easier to look at through the corner of an eye rather than directly.

Safiye took the offered menu and perused it eagerly, happy to follow Harper’s plan away from the ‘sad wine-tipsy road.’ Her eyes went immediately to the cocktail Harper mentioned, gin mixed with black tea and a ginger simple syrup poured over muddled plum. It combined several of Safiye’s favorite flavors and was something she’d mentioned to Harper on more than one occasion. It was touching that Harper had remembered to include it this season, and the kind of silent gift that their friendship was built on. “Well, if you have that, then I don’t need to look at the menu.” Safiye smiled as she handed the menu back to Harper.

-

Harper internally felt a surge of pride in herself as she took in Safiye’s response to the drink. She thrived on positive feedback as it was, but coming from Safiye it hit a different chord. It felt so genuine and natural; she knew Safiye wasn’t looking to gain something from her, she had just made her friend happy. And in a world where Harper knew that was a struggle for both of them, she was honored.

They didn’t often discuss it, their feelings about their respective situations. It was clear that there was more beneath the surface that neither friend could or would discuss, but part of what made their friendship so special was their understanding and respect of those boundaries; their shared ability to catch each other’s drifts in spite of things left out. It was this same understanding that guided Harper to drop the joke. If it were anyone else, she probably would have continued in order to keep her guard up and her edge intact. Truth be told, she also had the feeling that if she tried, her voice would crack or some other tell would show itself.

Unsure of what more she actually wanted to drink, herself, Harper pondered the menu. She let out a soft laugh. “You know, considering the role I had in shaping this menu, you’d think I’d have an easier time picking something,” she mused aloud. Truth be told, beyond Safiye’s drink, she could barely remember what they’d actually selected for this menu.

The summer was difficult for Harper. Between the memories of graduation, and then her parents, plus her birthday thrown in there too, the early part of summer especially tended to be blurry and hard to focus on. For one or two years after her parents passing, Harper attempted to actively deal with both, which just resulted in whiplash and guilt. She’d considered trying again this year, but ultimately hadn’t decided for sure.

Settling on an elderflower cocktail for herself, Harper sent word down to the kitchen and bar to deliver a couple of their chosen drinks along with some sweet biscuits up to her suite.

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. 

“Powder room” Architectural digest 1977.

*checks my email at the club*