𝐢 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦, 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫.
before
fields of flowers in shades of yellow , teenage yearning , sun bleached eyelashes , tanned arms , the very shallowest of puddles , weakly brewed tea , sun filtering through stained glass windows , biting into an apple and its juices running down your chin , fingers sticky from the honey in your tea , looking at somebody with stars in your eyes , hanging on to her ever word , memorizing the look in her eye when she’s happy so you know when you’ve done something right , the innocence of ignorance .
after
being swallowed up by waters so murky that you can’t see your hand in front of your face , waking up in a cold sweat to scream your lungs out , uncertainty mingled with steadfastness , clinging onto your past life by your fingernails , seeing your face in the mirror and not recognizing the person who looks back at you , fearing the person who lives inside of you , the intoxicating feeling of knowing and still wishing that you didn’t .
𝒊.
i saw you in a dream by the japanese house .
you were the sweetest apparition , such a pretty vision / there was no reason , no explanation / the perfect hallucination
sunlight by hozier .
i had been lost to you , sunlight / flew like a moth to you , sunlight
lover , where do you live ? by highasakite .
and if i see you again my love / all i’m ever going to do / is send shivers down that spine of yours
strawberry blond by mitski .
when you stood up / walked away , barefoot / and the grass where you lay / left a bed in your shape / i looked over it / and i ached
she by harry styles .
she lives in daydreams with me / she’s the first one that i see / and i don’t know why / i don’t know who she is
power over me by dermot kennedy .
you’ve got that power over me , my my / everything i hold dear resides in those eyes / you’ve got that power over me , my my / the only one i know , the only one on my mind
i love her still , i always will by the outsiders .
and she’s sitting down / making me believe we just don’t care / i look at her / and she looks at me / making me believe we just don’t see
𝒊𝒊.
killer by phoebe bridgers .
can the killer in me / tame the fire in you? / is there nothing left to do for us? / i am sick of the chase / but i’m hungry for blood / and there’s nothing i can do
under the water by aurora .
under the water we die / under the water there is no one watching / under the water we are alone / then why do we jump in? / why do we jump in? / under the water we die
heavenfaced by the national .
i could walk out , but i won’t / in my mind i am in your arms / i wish someone would take my place / can’t face heaven all heavenfaced / no one’s careful all the time / if you lose me, i’m gonna die
to the hilt by banks .
people say we’re better off / you couldn’t keep up / i still keep one broken piece / the one that fits in that chip on your shoulder
home with you by fka twigs .
how come the more you have the more that people want from you? / the more you burn away the more the people earn from you / the more you pull away the more that they depend on you
mad woman by taylor swift .
what did you think i’d say to that? / does a scorpion sting when fighting back? / they strike to kill, and you know i will / you know i will
don’t fall for monsters by deathbyromy .
i said “oh romy, look an angel” / but look deeper in their eyes / it was a smile that only held more / it was the ultimate disguise
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𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙸𝚂𝚃𝚁𝚈 𝙾𝙵 𝙼𝙰𝙶𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚆 𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴 , 𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝙽𝚄𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳 .
𝙸𝙼𝙼𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚉𝙴𝙳 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙰𝚄𝙶𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝟷𝟾𝚃𝙷, 𝟷𝟿𝟻𝟶
𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚆 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙴𝚄𝙿𝙷𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙰 𝙶𝙸𝙱𝙱𝙾𝙽
𝚁𝙴: 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙲𝙴𝙲𝙸𝙻 𝙽𝙾𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂, 𝙴𝚂𝚀.
could you please state your name , age , house , and wand specifications for the record ?
a light sigh leaks through peach - painted lips , hoping to give of an air of having close to no clue why she was summoned to the ministry in the first place . ❛ euphemia ahana gibbon . i’m twenty - four , graduated from hufflepuff — and my wand is cherry , 9 and ¾ of an inch with a veela hair core . ❜ her voice trails off near the end of her sentence , discomfort masked as nonchalance .
who sent out your invitation to the norris’s home ?
❛ mr. norris , i suppose . seems to me that he fancied an audience for his reappearing act . of course , you can’t take my word for it . only he knows his intentions . ❜
was there a signature of any kind ?
❛ it was a bit difficult to examine the calligraphy whilst the invitation was in flames . i’m sure you understand . ❜
did you attend the event with anyone ?
she’s grateful for the abnormality in her and druella’s normally carefully interwoven lives . for once , they hadn’t shown up together , and they hadn’t spent the entire evening fused at the hip . considering their involvement in the death of cygnus black and his momentary sashay into the physical world — led by one fleamont potter , of all wixen — euphemia was not eager to bring up druella’s name . ❛ i attended alone . ❜
could you state , in your own words , what happened at mr. norris’s home prior to his arrival ?
she concentrates on the material , all the decor and glamour of the norris estate that she’d seen out of her peripheral vision while scanning the room for anything of note , anything to haul her into the loop of mr. norris’s disappearance . euphemia from gibbon’s gab was known for vapid conversation , lighthearted distraction from the disappearances and death she caused behind closed doors — it was this euphemia who answered the query from the auror , not one that those who knew her personally as of late would recognize . ❛ when i arrived , the house was lit from within . i only say that because it reminded me of the diwali lanterns my grandmother used to force me to sit at the kitchen table and make every year — without magic , if you can imagine that . ❜
a light , tinkling laugh slips through her lips , purposefully mesmerizing . ❛ i did some snooping — i know it’s considered impolite , but i couldn’t help myself . curiosity killed the cat . i spent most of the time before dinner in the sunroom , though . i suppose that’d be why i didn’t see anything worthy of note , but — the view of hogwarts grounds made me feel a bit nostalgic . ❜ another sigh , and she forges into the meaty part of her retelling .
❛ after dinner , one of the other attendees suggested a séance . ❜ she fixes her interviewer with a quick glance , rolling her eyes . she doesn’t mention fleamont’s name , whether out of a desire to protect him — though it was likely to do no good , or due to the simple and recurring fact that saying his name ate her up from the inside out . ❛ i was opposed , obviously — but i joined in hopes that i could have something interesting to mention on my show the following evening . gibbon’s gab . have you heard of it ? ❜
were you , at any point , aware of mr. norris’s location between the night of his alleged disappearance and the dinner party ?
❛ no . ❜ honesty felt so foreign in euphemia’s mouth .
as far as the seance , what kind of questions were asked of the deceased , mr. cygnus black ?
❛ i think they’d be considered standard fare for questions asked of a ghost . most were morbid . related to his death , and the like . ❜ she twirls a lock of hair around her pointer finger , feigning distraction long enough to pick a piece of lint from her robes — hammering the nail in the coffin to solidify her vapid , clueless act .
did anyone seem particularly uncomfortable with the event during or immediately after ?
❛ i daresay we were all uncomfortable . death isn’t something anyone can just wrap their head around , you know . it sits in your stomach like — an unmovable stone . i remember the feeling after my father’s disappearance when i was young . being in that room felt just the same . like there’s something going on on the other side of a veil you can’t quite see . ❜
do you know if there’s anyone else who might be more knowledgeable about the situation ?
❛ i'd contact lyall lupin . he seems the resident expert on ghosts and ghouls . it all goes straight over my head . ❜
do you know anything about the necklace that was recovered ?
❛ there was a necklace ? ❜ she asks , leaning forward in her seat ever so slightly only to shake her head and return back to her original position .
were you aware of any business dealings between mr. norris and mr. black ?
❛ mr. black didn’t share the intimacies and intricacies of his business with me — and neither did he share them with his widow , if i’m not mistaken . ❜ she says , tone taking a turn for the haughty .
would you be willing to leave your memories with us for observation ?
a smile blooms on euphemia’s lips even as the interviewer still speaks , disbelief coating her tongue as nerves attempt to freeze her blood in her veins . ❛ surely you won’t want my memories ? ❜ she asks , one eyebrow raised . ❛ they’ll only be carbon copies of everyone else’s . ❜ she turns her knees towards the interviewer’s giving them her attention , full and undivided for the first time since they’d begun their line of questioning . ❛ you don’t need them , surely . ❜ euphemia knew the feeling of success . she knew what it felt to completely and utterly convince someone of something , and this was it . the hair on the back of her neck seemed to stand on end , her back itching . her grandmother used to say it was her veela feathers rising to the surface , ready to burst forth — but euphemia only knew it as the feeling of being artificially adored , but adored all the same .
have you spoken with anyone outside of the attendees about the event ?
❛ no — i decided it would be better if i kept something to myself for once . i haven’t even spoken to my mother . ❜
is there anything else of relevance that you can think of that i didn’t ask you about ?
❛ nothing off of the top my head , no . ❜
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𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 : ARTEMIS FAWLEY .
timestamp: 16, Aug. 1950, time tbd. · location: norris house, the study. ( unwarded, public space ) · tagging: @goddless· !
the estate, which had been sprawling and elegant before, felt too tight. she was too contained in it. this dress was far too constricting, she couldn’t breathe. none of this felt right, none of this was right. artemis had yet to see cecil norris and if the rumors were to be believed, she was walking around in a dead man’s house. where was his wife? she manages to keep herself in one piece as she crosses through the main hall, draws her focus to only the sound of her heels on the hard floor and the chatter of her peers pouring in from various rooms in the mansion. it was too close to the whispers that trailed behind her nowadays. all of it was too much to process, the panic, the fear bubbling in her chest causing her lip to tremor.
with vision blurred by unshed tears, she steps into the first room she sees, her hand settling on the cool handle before trapping herself within though the door is not locked. she cannot have that suspicion following her too — she just needs to be able to breathe. she strides past the large desk, past the mess that sits atop it, and comes to the bay window. she presses the old lock up and swings the window out, allowing air to breeze through the already disturbed room. it’s then, as the cold air burns her already sensitive eyes, that the tears begin to fall in earnest. mama, please. a useless internal begging for someone to hold her, to tell her that she would survive. she was a wolf, a legacy, she had too.
shoulders hunch forward as shaking fingers move up to meet her face. faigh còmhla e, leanabh an fhaireachdainn. this felt impossible, all of it. she draws in a shaking breath and nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears the door click shut. she hadn’t heard it open. she’s speaking before she can think, “ i’m sorry, i just needed a place t’catch my breath, i’ll —” the words die in her mouth as she turns, her gaze settles on the other. tears still dancing on her lashes, “ euphemia? ” she asks quietly. she hadn’t seen the other since their time at school, since the elder graduated. it was almost a surprise to see her here, almost, but the sheer amount of her peers in the building dulled the effect.
the longer euphemia spent wandering the norris estate in odessa bones’ wake , the less she could adamantly and steadfastly ignore the oddities of the evening . mystery seemed to blanket the home in a thick layer , not unlike morning fog over the hills of her irish hometown , and though the atmosphere was dressed up to be inviting and jovial — it was only a costume . the hosts of the evening had still not revealed themselves , and time was ticking on steadily . she’s made it her business to try each door handle she passes , slim fingers slipping around cool brass and applying the smallest amount of pressure . an unlocking charm could’ve dealt with those knobs that didn’t give in a millisecond , but euphemia had refrained .
unbarred doors were free game , however . turning the knob in her hand silently , euphemia pushes the door inwards to a rifled through leather - topped desk , a peanut gallery of norris family portraits , and a breeze from an open window — beside of which stands a crying woman with her back turned . euphemia’s first instinct is to shut the door , muffle the sounds of her tears from the prying ears of the guests outside . the pang of sympathy that blooms in her chest as artemis fawley turns around almost brings an inappropriate smile to euphemia’s painted lips . she hasn’t been reminded of her own bleeding heart in a long time , and to know that it hasn’t vanished completely is a relief .
artemis had been a friend she’d fallen out of contact with when she left hogwarts , and though the other girl wasn’t privy to the fact that they’d met again since — euphemia is almost thrilled to see her face up close , rather than from afar as she and the burial society monitored her safety and judged her trustworthiness . ❛ artemis , ❜ her eyes soften , though she holds her position just inside the closed door . euphemia doesn’t want to crowd her , especially when her emotions seem to be taking up more than their fair share of space . ❛ it has been donkey’s years , hasn’t it ? ❜ she avoids mention of the tears straight away , tucking dark hair behind both of her ears . ❛ i suppose i could’ve caught you for a reunion at a better time , though . ❜
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𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 : ODESSA BONES .
everything that was happening felt like it was straight out of one of her favorite novels. while she wasn’t complaining about the chance for serious inspiration for her next book, it was always safer to remain cautious and alert. however, the night hadn’t gone exactly as she had planned and euphemia gibbon was hovering around near the entirety of the dinner. odessa was already convinced that euphemia found it hard to believe fleamont would go anywhere near her at all, this had to be some way of her rubbing it in.
she had finally managed a moment away from euphemia, and her first thought was to go looking for her. knowing full well that her arrangment with fleamont was fake and the topic of their lunches were typically how the elder hufflepuff had won his heart, the entire thing was laughable. if this was any other situation she might have grabbed the other woman’s shoulders and shaken her, asking if she was so blind to all the people falling at her feet, both halves of the bones - potter pairing included.
fleamont had already scolded her earlier on the silence of her steps, recommending they tie a bell to her despite that it was something she praised herself on. the ability to blend in with a crowd had shown itself more and more useful as time went on. as to avoid entirely startling the woman, she pushes the door far enough back it creaks, alerting euphemia of someone else’s presence. a soft smile plays at her lips as she stands beside her, “do i think that this looks like agatha christie? obviously.” her fingers move to play with the edge of her dark sleeves, the one give away to the fact she was nervous. “i was wondering where my tail went. did you finally give up on what you were looking for or did you find that your answer was merely disappointing?”
she hadn’t particularly been trying to be subtle . subtlety was not in her wheelhouse , not something that she was genetically predisposed to . her quarter veela beauty drew attention and turned heads — attention was simply her constant companion , whether she campaigned for it or otherwise . euphemia’s investigation into the allure of odessa bones had left her relatively empty handed — she still couldn’t come to any sort of conclusive decision on why fleamont chose her .
occupied with an inquiry that appeared to be born of teenage jealousy at first glance , euphemia had been able to shed the guilt and responsibility that swirled in her mind each time she redirected it to burial society affairs as of late . she’d found herself searching for something trivial to concentrate on , and odessa had simply stumbled into the spotlight unwittingly . the sound of her voice now is less confusion - inducing than it is a catalyst for a rush of relief — euphemia’s slight fingers had already been feeling for her wand , tucked away in a pocket amongst the buttery fabric of her gown’s skirts .
❛ i didn’t find anything . ❜ she insists , not denying her shadowing of the other woman . euphemia wasn’t one to balk in the face of confrontation , even those as trivial as this one . ❛ so i decided i’d give myself a break . ❜ she explains , head turning to look at odessa’s side profile . ❛ if that’s alright with you , mrs potter . ❜
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𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 : HELENA HYSLOP .
timestamp: 16, Aug. 1950 · location: norris house, the sunroom ( unwarded, public space ) · tagging: @goddless···· !
❛ this must be a lovely reminder for you, too, ❜ helena harrumphed softly, careful to keep her voice down given that neither could ward the room properly with all the guests millin about the house. they were as alone as any two people could be but that made nothing inherently private. taking another sip from her glass, lena was thoughtful for a moment ( something that many seemed surprised she had the capability to be ). ❛ i swear, if i never see the grounds again for the rest of my life, it’d be a blessing from merlin himself. ❜ one day she’d have children who would attend the school that would undoubtedly want to play quidditch — too many of her siblings had been talented for the sport to think it might not be a genetic mutation — and their graduations were also something she’d want to attend, but perhaps by then she’d be able to astral project so she wouldn’t have to be there in person.
❛ it’s a beautiful sunset . ❜ euphemia relents , but only after a prolonged moment of holding her jaw in a painfully clenched position . with her decision to loose it , the words had tumbled out unstayed . perhaps an appreciation for the beauty of the scottish highlands was not the admission helena had been fishing for , but one nonetheless , an acknowledgement of her fellow society member’s words . another second of pregnant silence , and euphemia exhales quietly . ❛ i honestly — can’t help but agree . ❜ the horrors that had occured on the grounds at her demand eclipsed her fond memories of her years at school — totally and unequivocally . though resolute in her decisions and the ways they contributed to the goals of the society , euphemia suffered from an innate guilt . she was not built or bred for killing , even when she wasn’t the one who struck the proverbial blow . it drained her little by little each day , but she made sure her shell remained standing strong . she may have been hollowing herself out for the sake of the equality of her people , but to those around her — euphemia insisted that she would appear whole .
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𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 : FLEAMONT POTTER , @broughtdawn .
𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐏 : 7:15 PM , THE HALL , THE NORRIS ESTATE .
𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐂𝐘 : PUBLIC , NOT WARDED .
euphemia had not been raised in luxury , and therefore the sight of an impressive manor could still knock the wind out of her ever so slightly . rather than a heaving gasp , the sight of the norris estate had elicited a quiet sigh upon her apparition . lit from the inside out , the glow from its many windows cut through the early autumn darkness , illuminating her path to the front door though she was still three hundred feet away . the hall was no less impressive , but euphemia had kept her head down as she entered — the writhing nerves in the pit of her stomach did not lend themselves to her relatively newfound distaste for unsolicited attention .
perhaps she was content to run her fingertip back and forth over the smooth wood of the staircase’s banister from where she stood a quarter of the way up it , looking down onto other wixen as they entered , just that slight bit above the average person’s sightline — or perhaps she wasn’t . the thought occurs as she catches sight of dark hair , eyes travelling down to a pair of rose - tinted spectacles that she can only associate with one man .
❛ monty , ❜ she calls , voice soft , her heart foolishly allowing herself to feel an ounce more comfortable in his presence since their encounter in the foliaged labyrinth , all while her brain protests . ❛ you’ll tell me if you see any goats , won’t you ? ❜ her fear of the celtic púca was no secret to those whom she’d gone to hogwarts alongside — much to a twelve year old euphemia’s chagrin . considering the home they were in , her fear didn’t seem quite so irrational .
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𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 : ODESSA BONES , @ovrshadcwd .
𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐏 : 10:00 PM , THE SUNROOM , THE NORRIS ESTATE .
𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐂𝐘 : PUBLIC , NOT WARDED .
cecil norris’s disappearance was a blank spot in euphemia’s mind , a train of thought she couldn’t read — a page of words with an accidental ink blot that blocked out the most important paragraph like an eclipse . when she sat down to wonder about it , there was nothing there . the norris estate was as ominously extravagant as the black bird that had brought her invitation to her had been — interrupting her as she burned the midnight oil at the wizarding wireless network’s headquarters for the umpteenth night in a row . she’d found it hard to be fearful or suspicious of such a magnificent creature — she’d always held a soft spot in her heart for owls , but kept her wand drawn as she read from the black envelope .
her attendance that evening was based in curiosity and fear — she was afraid , and so she’d vowed to crush that feeling under the heel of her best shoes , as complimented by her best yellow gown . the fabric soft as butter , euphemia ran her fingertips over it frequently , an attempt to mask the tremor in her fingers that she’d adopted as of late . the norris estate’s sunroom was a marvel , and the view of the hogwarts grounds was as nostalgic as it was villifying — the waters of the black lake had always held secrets , but now they held her own . she’d spent most of the night trailing after odessa bones , a subconscious attempt at diverting her mind from the uncertainty of the homeowner’s disappearance — and odessa had finally seemed to shake her , the younger hufflepuff alum nowhere in sight .
the sound of someone approaching behind her clenches euphemia’s fists in anticipation , but she keeps the conversation light - hearted regardless . ❛ do you reckon that’s what it looks like at this very moment ? ❜ she queries without turning away from the windows , exhaling the breath she only just realized she’d been holding .
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𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 : LAZARUS AVERY .
something about euphemia’s presence, particularly at school, had always made lazarus knit his brows when he got too close or her voice lilted in just the right way that made his heart thrum a little bit faster in his chest. he hated it, he always had, and whenever he was near euphemia it was a force of will that kept him from bowing his head and doing the most to impress her. since his interest in prosperina deeped, he’d barely noticed that needling little desire the last time he and euphemia had interacted with one another, and even now as he stood in the leaky cauldron, half smile on his face, her plea did not so much make him move because he felt desired to impress, but because three shots of firewhiskey were lined up in such a neat row that he was more than welcome to take them off her hands.
one. two. three. alright. perhaps he had wanted to impress her but, in his defense, she had likely gotten them all for free, as she had in their school days at the three broomsticks. sitting beside her at the bar, laz’s eyes could not avoid the unmistakable headline that he had caused: 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆. 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘. it would do best not to mention cecil more than he had to. ❛ ‘sa shame to see another one up and disappear. ❜ fear threatened to bubble up, seemingly only kept at bay by the firewhiskey that fought its way down lazarus’ chest and warmed him instantly. then: ❛ what is it at now ? five ? ❜
he was quiet for a moment, as though wanting to give euphemia time to respond. something seemed to smack him upside the head though as he thought that it was best not to allow himself to be too bogged down in feelings that he could not explain without revealing his own involvement in the events that had led to this moment. no, he would be fine and he would not need to talk about it to euphemia gibbon. ❛ are you going to run away from me again, euphemia, or is this a meeting on neutral ground as old friends ? ❜
a fatal mistake . maybe not so fatal as it is a moment of feeling semi - foolish , but euphemia is scandalized nonetheless . as she aged out of her teenage need for positive attention , she’d grown away from using her blood - given gift for things as trivial as male assent . these days , with the burial society — it was reserved for far more pressing matters . to use her charm to order the death of henry potter in one breath only to turn around and use it to persuade lazarus avery to drink with her in the leaky cauldron leaves a sour taste in her mouth and a heavy weight in her stomach . the friendly lilt bleeds out of her voice in a quick descent , watching him return three empty shot glasses to the bartop where their full counterparts had once sat . ❛ seven . his assistant hasn’t been seen , either . nor the goat . ❜
his accusation of her possible retreat irks her , and though it may be the alcohol swirling in her belly that spurs such a reaction , the hairs on the back of her neck stand up ever so slightly . ❛ i do not run from anybody . ❜ she’s insistant , placing both hands palm down and flat on the bar . ❛ i walk away at my own leisure . ❜ she turns her head quickly , spurring a whirlwind of dark hair as it flies over her shoulder . ❛ besides — i’ve heard fleamont potter lives up there . ❜ she remarks , pointing up at the ceiling . ❛ so i reckon this is his territory . far from neutral . ❜
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𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 : OPEN .
𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐏 : 05:01 PM, THE LEAKY CAULDRON .
𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐂𝐘 : NOT WARDED .
it’s five pm somewhere — a phrase that had plagued euphemia’s mind for the past hour or so as she sat on a high stool front and centre at the leaky cauldron’s bartop. she’s amassed quite a collection of complimentary drinks, sent over by admirers — those known to her and travellers passing through alike. they surround her as she reads the newest issue of the daily prophet, perched like sentinels in front of her. she hadn’t touched one until the clock’s hands finally pointed south east, and the firewhiskey now hitting the back of her throat with its burn bore instant regret.
her self control was brought on by paranoia — a woman alone at a bar, drinking before it was deemed publicly acceptable could seem suspect. with the untimely disappearance of cecil norris and his goat, euphemia wasn’t looking to draw more attention to herself than the kind her veela blood demanded and she could not avoid. shaking her head ever so slightly and eyes screwed up for a moment, she reaches out for the closest passerby with a gloved hand. ❛ please take one of these. at the very least — one. ❜ she’s laid on the charm, melodic voice piercing through the din of the bar around her even before she realizes who it is that she’s snagged in her web.
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500 days of summer, dir. marc webb
little women (2020), dir. greta gerwig
the feeling may remain, akif kichloo
the harpy, robert w. service
euphoria, dir. sam levinson
jolene, dolly parton
titus andronicus, william shakespeare
richard siken, scheherazade
no second troy, william butler yeats
bonus: little women (2020), dir. greta gerwig
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𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 : TALIESIN LESTRANGE .
he frowns slightly at euphemia’s words, though he lets it pass from his features just as quickly. it had not been his intention to raise any feelings of anxiety or anger, simply to state that how they felt about the death was less important than being there for those it truly impacted, but intent and outcome had never been two things that were perfectly aligned for taliesin lestrange. more often than not, it seemed, they were quite at odds.
‘ i —— ’ he starts, and then thinks better of it. trying to convince euphemia of his well meaning intent, while standing in the middle of the street and holding owl food, did not seem like a task that was going to go well for him. instead he simply nods, allowing her to voice the frustration she feels, even if he did not quite understand it. to him, doing something because it was the thing to do did not seem like something inherently bad, and likewise people gather around those they understood, people that were like themselves ; he knew that well enough, and thought it was likely the cause he was such an outsider himself. he would fix that soon enough.
the reason she figured he might not be intimidated was perhaps precisely the reason he was. when you are trying to hide something, the last thing you want is to have too many eyes on you. between his parents boasts of what he had accomplished, the way his hands became unsteady under scrutiny, and the fact that since he was fifteen he could never enter a room without drawing attention simply from his build … the feeling of observation was inescapable, especially in large crowds.
the importance of the compliment, even if it is barely that, does not fail to catch his attention. or perhaps, the unusual nature of it would be more accurate. euphemia was not one to say things like that to him. he does not think he could recall the last time it had happened, but then again they were also not in the habit of running into each other with any frequency in recent years. ‘ thanks, ’ he says with a nod. better to quit while you’re ahead. ‘ i don’t mean to keep you, i’m sure you have other places to be. ’ maybe the two could manage to have one amicable conversation in their history.
it consumes her mind — the cause that she and the rest of the burial society continue to fight for each day, underground and behind closed doors. there are moments when it fades to the background, but it never quite leaves. a small ringing in depths of her ears, euphemia only ever forgets about it fleetingly — other thoughts only ever reign for a few moments. she revels in her dedication, her willingness to throw traditional morals to the wind for her people.
she disregards his vocal stumble, brown eyes boring into his from her lower vantage point. she wonders what’s going on inside of his mind, and in that moment, she’d give anything to be a legilimens. questioning the intentions and beliefs of those that she knew had become a benchmark of her daily routine, bordering on obsession. taliesin was no exception, and coming from a family that was one of the sacred twenty eight — accompanied by the company that he kept, it didn’t fare well for their compatibility in opinion. despite her long running distaste for him, euphemia still can’t shake the tiny ember of hope that she harbours in her chest.
❛ you’re right, ❜ she affirms, ❛ it’s probably best if you don’t respond to that. ❜ nodding, euphemia shoves down the hesitation that’s sprung up in her chest like weeds in an unattended garden. now was not the time to be showing her cards or publicly leaning towards any one side or alignment. ❛ there’s nothing i hate more than being misinterpreted. ❜ she wishes to be seen as simply a radio host — one with a show that broadcast vapid content in the face of the mystery and uncertainty that swirled throughout the wizarding world at her hands.
hoping that he concentrates further on the somewhat complimentary tone that their conversation has taken on, she pushes forward without pausing — enveloping him in the sound of her voice. ❛ i give compliments where i think they’re due. after knowing you for merlin knows how many years, the time has finally come. i almost can’t believe it. ❜ the smile on her face has been known to mesmerize, but she keeps it reined in — the idea of using her veela charm on taliesin remains slightly repulsive to her, even as it’s been many years since their childhoods. ❛ i'll get out of your way, then. i'm sure we'll run into eachother later on, anyhow. ❜ she adds, her reluctance to live out her prediction well disguised.
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𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 : ABRAXAS MALFOY .
and just as he remembered, euphemia knew exactly how to put him in a bind. her question was a delicate subject, she was treading on thin ice, whether she was entirely aware of it or not, while his question remained skilfully unanswered. so there he was, having to respond to euphemia’s inquiry while she carefully maintained the aura of mystery that surrounded her; he had to give something and he got nothing in return, and that was a situation he despised and made sure he rarely found himself in.
the voice of his mother pushed him into being polite while he knew that he had to be smart about it. “honestly, it would be easier to tell you what’s still the same.” he prioritised her questions to his own. he scratched the back of his neck satisfying an itch that wasn’t there, trying to come up with answers for questions that were yet to come. if this was the course their discussion would take, he needed to be prepared. “but i do need to know, ms. gibbon… is this about catching up with an old friend or about two people who hardly know each other getting better acquainted?” abraxas took a drag from his cigarette and as he released the smoke from his lungs he noticed that the gleam in her eyes made him feel like the latter was more likely, but he gave himself a margin for error.
in the back of her mind, euphemia is well aware of the prying nature of her question. that said, she’s evidently made the decision to ignore it. from a young age, a thick layer of entitlement had grown over euphemia gibbon like armour. to this day, she’s been unable to shed it. for a person whose desires were almost guaranteed to come to her at one point or another, acting as if she wasn’t owed the things she yearned for was easier said than done. it was perhaps for that reason that they had, albeit momentarily, woven so easily into each other’s lives as teenagers.
his counter question seems to light euphemia up from the inside, sparking the natural charisma she’s clung onto despite the shift in motivation she’s undergone with each passing day since druella led her to knockturn alley and cygnus black’s malevolence. ❛ which would you prefer ? ❜ she asks, eyebrows raised. ❛ i know you as you were at hogwarts, abraxas. i think it’s more than fair to say that the years have changed both of us. ❜ shifting her weight onto one foot, she crosses her arms over her torso. ❛ i don’t think learning more about a person needs to be forced into a box. it is what it is, plainly. ❜ euphemia could talk circles around the best negotiators and conversationalists the wixen community had to offer, even without her added charm — but abraxas had known many a euphemia driven conversation, and she didn’t assume for a second that he’d crumble under her playful interrogation.
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𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 : ovrshadcwd· .
“ the thing with dangerous people is that they’re ahead of you , aren’t they ? how else would they have gotten to the front ? ” she questions with a slight raise of her brow . she knows euphemia is eyeing her , mentally thinking of all the ways that puts her ahead of odessa , seconding her once again . she knows this , because fleamont never stops talking about her . and it wasn’t hard to see why , ever since she had gotten to hogwarts she always thought that the�� woman was enchanting . the air she carried around her always radiated a terrifying beauty . euphemia had the same energy as someone who could end you where you stood and not bat an eye again . but the longer she feels her gaze on her face the more uncomfortable she feels , like a child stuck at a dinner table again .
the younger girl’s mouth silently falls open at her question , not entirely sure how to answer the question . “ i can’t say i did . ” the words are polite , the same curated tone she’d been using all day to people who asked her the same questions . she didn’t know him at all . fleamont had only come up to her about a month ago , wrapping her up into the actions he wanted to take . not once did she ever consider that people thought they had actually been seeing each other for more than that . “ did you ever get the chance to meet him ? fleamont speaks so highly of you i figured you’ve been acquainted for some time … ”
euphemia has always been a people person, a natural charmer — reading a facial expression came easier to her than reading written words on a page, and odessa’s face said far more than her lips did. euphemia moves her gaze from the younger witch’s face, adjusting her salwar kameez in an orchestrated way that she’s perfected to appear casual. a light sigh leaks from between her lips, a curt laugh slipping out on its tail. ❛ you’d be surprised how very little it can take to get ahead, ❜ she shrugs, ❛ sometimes all that matters is the blood in your veins. ❜
odessa’s response sends a billion little lightbulbs pinging on in euphemia’s mind. surely, a serious relationship involved being acquainted with each other’s parents. courting in london these days practically required it by law. the concept of odessa and fleamont not being involved in each others’ family lives thrills euphemia — though she despises the simple fact that it does. ❛ fleamont potter has never once spoken of me unless it was to defame my chai brewing techniques. ❜ she insists, heart thrumming in her throat with reckless abandon. she swallows, an attempt at forcing it back down to its rightful spot. ❛ but no — i’ve only ever heard about henry through the grapevine. ❜
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𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 : prospcrina· .
prosperina had been on a decently steady diet of drinks for most of the day, and while she wasn’t anywhere near sloppily drunk - and would be caught dead before she was - the drinks were enough that she had to fight against gravity for the briefest moment as the sudden stop, paired with her heels, threatened to topple her. she regained her balance, face remaining cool - she’d be damned if she betrayed anything less than graceful in front of euphemia gibbon - as she leveled her gaze with the other witch’s. “i’m simply stating facts - you’re doing all the hard work for me, i’m sure.”
prosperina’s attitude grated on euphemia’s mind, rubbing her the wrong way incessantly. this particular instance was somehow far more riling, annoyance mingling with grief and guilt — a heady cocktail that didn’t go down half as easily as the wine that sloshed in its home in euphemia’s stomach. ❛ i’m curious to know how you’ve convinced yourself that you’re not complicit. ❜ she counters, crossing her arms over her chest. ❛ what about that fact ? will you state that one any time soon ? ❜
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𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 : taliesinlestrange· .
the polite smile was, as she recognized, somewhat of a mask, a well practiced disguise he’d learned over the past decade and a half of his life. that did not mean, however, that people did not know it was there —— what mattered was not knowing what face was truly behind it. to further this effort, the hand free for not holding the purchases he’s already made is tucked carefully against the side of his person.
taliesin nods as she speaks. despite the tension, he does not disagree. in fact, her words cut rather quickly the heart of his own feelings about the day. death was a strange thing that seemed to have its own rules of conduct, yet no one could explain exactly what they were. there were vague platitudes, expectations of decorum, but when faced with death, very few had answers of actual substance. the fact that death had been somewhat uncommon in his own life ( the single instance of standing over rhys lestrange’s beside at seven years old, and the abstract nature of the deaths of the muggle war, stories of which found their way to the ears of the teenaged lestrange hidden in the swiss alps ), made him even more unsure how to tread through the subject. he was sure he had already done something incorrect in his earlier run in with fleamont, but he was not certain quite what it was in order to correct himself before he made his way to the memorial itself. ‘ it is a difficult subject, ’ he agrees. ‘ but i suppose it is less about how we feel on the matter, and more about showing up. ’ vague platitudes and expectations of decorum indeed.
then there was the anxiety that euphemia was able to capture in the second half of her sentiment, that which arose any time taliesin had to play the part of himself at a crowded wixen society gathering. he returns her smile, or tries to, turning up the corners of his mouth a little more than he usually does for her. ‘ yes, that … ’ he laughs lightly, little more than a breath of air released, but it is perhaps the most genuine emotional response he’s given so far, ‘ i’m not fond of large crowds. ’ it is an innocent enough admittance, and not one that he has not shared with others before, even if it hides more than just a level of social anxiety.
discussing the intricacies of mortality with taliesin lestrange had not been on the docket for euphemia’s day when she rose from bed that morning, stomach a knot of writhing snakes — but she was content with it, the momentary relief it brings from the onslaught of guilt that’s been catching her off guard in intervals that were not far enough apart to ignore. ❛ somehow i enjoy that thought less. ❜ she admits, furrowing dark brows ever so slightly. ❛ how many of our community are going to show up just because it’s the thing to do ? how many more would show up if the potters were part of the sacred twenty-eight ? how many less would attend if henry wasn’t a pureblood ? ❜
she lets her words marinate in a few seconds of silence, bobbing her thin shoulders once in a shrug. ❛ perhaps i’m being negative, but i feel like the occasion calls for it. ❜ reckless, to bring up controversial topics such as blood status when the entire wizarding world is searching for faces to put behind the white carved masks of the burial society and their ultimatums. the words burn her lips on their way out, and the evil of speaking the name of a man she had a hand in killing doesn’t escape euphemia in the slightest. but she has never been one to be silenced, even by herself.
it was hard to imagine a man of taliesin’s large stature intimidated by throngs of wixen likely smaller than him, but she knew well enough that sometimes these things didn’t come with ready-made explanations — and euphemia wasn’t one to prod at open wounds. ❛ good of you to attend anyhow, then. ❜ the bit of praise is insignificant to the average onlooker, but euphemia’s mind has never once put taliesin in a favourable light — and her words had always followed suit, until now.
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𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 : abraxas-m· .
Abraxas took a second to study the woman before him. She was just as he remembered, her piercing eyes still looking right through him. It felt like the last time he saw her was a lifetime ago, and in a way, it was. Still, even though she was looking at a hopefully different man, he was looking at the same beautiful, poised and smart woman he saw years ago. A faint smile crossed his lips momentarily at the memories oftheir time together, a time he remembered fondly.
“So I’ve heard.” he replied simply. Her smile was still disarming and her statement gave him more than he bargained for. Abraxas took a pause and tried to think of compact ways to answer. “The name is still the same,” he started with the easiest bit to sum up. “I like to think that the man isn’t, for better or worse.” that sounded good enough, given the circumstances and the setting. “Do you still go by Euphemia, or are introductions in order?”
his admittance of a change in character intrigues her, interest piquing — though she knows better than to raise her hopes to impossible heights. a change in economic status and independence didn’t directly indicate a change in morality or ideals — this much euphemia knew. there were wixen of lower status than she who believed those with impure blood were worth nothing — when a single material object could, to them, mean everything. she wanted to dig deeper. she required answers, and she’d demand them as she saw fit.
❛ so tell me what’s changed, mr. malfoy. ❜ she insists, chin tilted upwards as she regards his face — delicate features remaining the same despite claimed inner developments. ❛ i’m sure you understand that i can’t possibly answer those sorts of questions for somebody i hardly know. ❜ despite her newly acquired ruthlessness, euphemia still hands out the benefit of the doubt when called for. eyes glinting, she waits patiently for his answer.
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