xgeorgetteollivanderx

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

Georgette scoffed. "You can really tell the people who haven't worked with the public. It's disgusting." Disgusting and true. It was something she detested. Whether it was a bakery or the wand shop, the job itself wasn't easy and having people breathing down their necks expecting what they wanted to be done right in that moment was infuriating. "The majority of the people that come in give me little hope," Georgette said, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. "Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't want to work anywhere else -- you know that the store is my life -- but it would be so much better without the people part," she smirked.

"I'll still thank you, Soph. You don't have to treat me." Georgette wasn't used to people doing nice things for her. Sophia was about the only one who did. She wasn't sure how to receive it especially because she couldn't reciprocate most of the time. She didn't have a lot of money and working at Ollivander's didn't give her a trade to offer any goods. She took a bite of her cookie, savoring every bite.

A laugh escaped Georgette. "You really want to get married? I can't fathom spending my life trying to make some person happy and having to bear children. No thank you. Not that I have anyone knocking my door down. I don't really need to worry about it, right?"

"I think the worse we get is someone who wants a custom order and get pissed off because it can't be done with 24 hours notice. Don't get me wrong Alara will try but at times it just isn't possible."

It felt good to finally sit down and enjoy their hot chocolate, she adored her job, and she'd forever be grateful that is gave her what she needed to live independently and start her own life outside the foster homes.

She left of a simply shrug. "No need to ever thank me, it seemed like we both needed this today."

Sophia hummed for a moments, her thoughts drifting away. "I don't know, i think I'd like to one day, but I don't think i would want to go for anything big and spectacular."

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

"You're not wrong about that. I understand being attached to your wand. Obviously. It's what I do. But people don't need to be asses about it," Georgette rolled her eyes. "I'm damn good at what I do. They should know that by now. Hell, any Ollivander knows what they're doing." She shook her head as she spoke. "I can't imagine you have too many people like that who are excited to come in for a sweet."

Georgette sat at the table waiting for Sophia to finish her cleaning duties. She nibbled on her cookie. "This is just what I needed," she raised her voice so Sophia could hear her. She took small bites, savoring every one.

At last Sophia sat down with their hot chocolates. Georgette took a sip. The warmth spread down through her chest. "This is delicious. Thank you for the treat, Soph. I wouldn't be able to afford this." She took another sip and then laughed. "Yes, everyone is getting married. It's rather boring, don't you think? Why would anyone want to get married?"

There was just something that always prevented Sophia from calling her Georgette, she had obliged when they first met but ever since they grew close Georgie is just what stick, overtime Georgette just seemed to formal - though she knew she was the only person to ever get away with calling her Georgie.

She chuckled at her friend, followed by a small shrug of the shoulders. "Well, you know what people are like they get attached to their wants and they always want the perfect one. I don't think everyone full understands that our wands our perfect for ourselves."

She flicked her wants, two hot chocolates appearing upon the table by the window. Sopha finished up with what she had to do, before turning the sign to closed and swishing the door locked.

She sat down with a bit of huff, taking a sip at the perfectly tempered hot chocolate. "It has been a day today, I swear everyone is getting married, that or the whole of Diagon alley is in need of a sugar dose."

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

Georgette could suddenly feel the trepidation of the blonde handing over her wand. Wands were one of a kind, they were special, they were an extension of the witch or wizard. She knew that. She had seen it plenty of times but she always managed to forget it until she had a customer so hesitant. This one was beyond hesitant.

She softened slightly as she took the wand. Georgette was surprised when she looked at it. She hadn’t seen anything like it. It was beautiful and obviously made elsewhere — it shouldn’t have been a shock since the witch was from somewhere else. “Your wand. It’s gorgeous,” she said, twirling it in her fingers.

She found the chip in the wood. “I will see what I can do,” she finally said. “Where did you get it?” Georgette couldn’t help but ask.

Apolline was very picky with those touching her wand, it was special to her, handmade, and this was the first time anything ever happened to it. Her eyes flicker from the witche's outstretched hand and cautiously places her wand down.

"Is special to me." A worry etched in her eyes, hoping nothing bad would happen to it. "How long fix?"

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

Georgette laid on the freezing slab shivering and shaking. Her skin crawled and was covered with bumps. She was freezing and could feel the cold air coming from her mouth. Was it really that temperature in the room or was it just her? Was her body shutting down? Is this what dying felt like?

Why her? What did she do? Did she truly deserve this?

She couldn't think of anything that would make her a target. She was a bitch but was that really enough to torture her? She wasn't the only witch with an attitude. Did the others get tortured as well? This was pure, unadulterated pain, both physical and mental. She wanted to rub her head but couldn't move her hands.

Georgette heard someone enter the room. She could hear the sound of kissing. It was disgusting. How could someone be kissing a sociopath with a victim in the room? It had to be another sociopath. She squirmed as much as she could before hearing a familiar voice. Rabastan Lestrange. She was sure of it.

"Rabastan? Rabastan! Please -- help me!" Georgette pleaded, thrashing, ignoring her captor's voice.

@r-lestrcnge

As always, Rabastan paid Alecto's antics zero heed. He had never cared for her sadism. He merely recognised her need to cause pain and acknowledged it as an excellent force for the Dark Lord. As long as Alecto and the babies were safe from harm, he encouraged any activity that ensured her happiness. Anything to avoid dealing with her frustration or her unhappiness. He lacked the patience for it. He was working harder than ever, attempting to compensate for her absence in the ranks while also maintaining his ordinary job.

So upon returning home to discover several Death Eaters in his parlour, helping themselves to his best scotch, he was not entirely surprised. For a while, he sat with them too, attempting to decompress from a day filled with exhaustion and cursed treasures. But growing bored quickly, he made them leave as soon as he'd finished his drink, telling them he would return Alecto's victim to her rightful location himself.

Once they'd gone, he sat a while longer in the quiet, relishing the peace and calm. Then he unravelled the charms upon the silenced basement, releasing the tortured echoes of Georgette's screams and tears. Having no reaction to the noise, aside from the thought that it would not much help the headache threatening his mood, he entered and stepped behind Alecto. Finding her predictably elated, he paid her victim no attention, focussed instead on how Alecto appeared in the dim light. His wife was glorious. Full of life and passion, she was in her element. He would never limit her. Or so he thought for now.

Gripping her chin, he turned her face to his and caught her lips in a kiss. Possessive and appreciative, it was all the greeting she would get before he moved his hand to trace her stomach instead. She was growing very large, very quickly. He knew better than to tell her.

"Why this one?" he asked, nodding towards the girl on the slab. It was curiosity alone that inspired the question; a desire to understand Alecto's motivations, which lately had become more obscure.

@alectocarrowx

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

No matter how many times Georgette had told Sophia to call her Georgette, it never took. Sophia was the only one she would let call her Georgie. It was such a sweetly sickening nickname. "It's good to see you too, Soph." Yes, she even used a nickname for her friend. One of her only friends. But the two shared more in common than what met the eye.

She didn't know the whole story but Georgette knew enough to relate. Sophia lost her parents and grew up in foster care. Georgette may not have had to go through foster care but she had to deal with knowing that no one wanted her. That her parents were alcoholics and drug addicts who chose that over her. And that her Uncle Garrick was the only one to open his doors to her. He wasn't around a lot. She grew independent -- Sophia grew independent due to her circumstance. Not an exact replica but her friend would have understood more than anyone else is Georgette had told her.

"A hectic day, yeah," she nodded, taking the cookie. "People can be so fucking demanding." She paused. She'd only meant to get the sweet and go but couldn't turn Sophia down. "A hot chocolate would be nice."

"Georgie" Sophia smiled, "It's good to see you."

"One butter beer cookie it is" she said happily, placing the cookie into one of the paper cookie bags. She took the correct change from Georgette "See, more than enough" she confirmed, placing the change into the till.

"No offence, but it looks like you've had hectic day like we have. I was just about to make myself a hot chocolate, would you care to join. My treat of course."

"You can see over in the booth, if you'd like. I've just got a couple more areas to clear up and I'll be done for the night. I swear Diagon Alley gets busier everyday."

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

Little known fact about Georgette: she had a sweet tooth. Luckily her favorite shop was just around the corner (maybe that's why it was her favorite). The Little Tart Bakery had never let her down before and after the day she had she felt she needed to indulged herself.

Too many people had come into the shop that day being highly demanding — that was Georgette’s job. Of course she gave it back to them but it didn’t bring the joy it normally did. She was having an off day. A treat was definitely in the cards.

As she hurriedly closed down the shop she ran over to The Little Tart. Luckily it was still open, though she could see that Sophia was cleaning up. She almost felt bad for bothering her.

“Sophia,” she said with an unusual smile, “good to see you. A bitter bear cookie will do just fine.” She reached into her pocket and fiddled with the little change she had, counting it carefully. “I’m pretty sure I have enough.”

For: Any Location: Little Tart Bakery, Diagon Alley It had been a long day at Little Tart's bakery, people had come and gone all throughout day, and Sophia felt like she hadn't stopped. Her feet ached and she absolutely shattered. It was close to closing, so she took to her regular duties of cleaning down, ensuring all ingredients had been cleared away.

As she cleared down the counter tops, she couldn't but let out a stifling yawn, her attention drifted and she thought about how she longed for her bed right now.

The sounds of the chimes from the bell than hung above the entrance door brought her attention back into focus, placing the cleaning cloth onto the side before washing her hands.

"We are just about to close, their isn't much selection left but we do have some Fruit cake, Rock cake and a couple butter bear cookies left." she advised them.

"Don't worry, they haven't been sat out all day. They where only freshly baked a few hours ago but sell fast." she added.

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

EMMA MACKEY by Laure Jane Coulson for POP Magazine

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

The blonde's face was full of confusion. Georgette found it quite amusing if she had to say so herself. She couldn't lie if she had to say that others being uncomfortable brought her even the slightest bit of joy. It amused her. Maybe it was a flaw in her character but she could care less about that. Georgette was who she was and never apologized for it. There was no reason to apologize for whoever a person was -- unless they were idiotic and unintelligent which unfortunately was the masses. She did try in her own Georgette way but it still came out in sarcasm and bitchy. Oh well.

The witch noticed a crack in her wand. Suddenly she was interested. She loved fixing wands. She loved seeing new wands and this was sure to be one she hadn't seen before since it didn't come from her shop. Excitement coursed through her.

"Of course I can fix it. I'm an Ollivander. That's what I do," she said, not caring if she was understood or not. She shook her still outstretched hand waiting for the wand, "but you need to give it to me," she said in a frustrated, anticipated tone.

Apolline stood in front of the brunette with her wand in her hand. There was the voice in the back of her head that was telling her to go back to France to have it looked it. It was special, one of kind, to those who had full veela relatives, a strand of her grandmother's hair in it. She didn't want to have anyone ruin it. Though, she was told good things about Ollivander's and thought she would trust the witch.

"I think crack." She held her out her wand, twisting it around until there appeared to be a tiny chip in it. The last thing she wanted was for it o hurt her magic. "You fix?" This was where she wished her English was better.

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

The last thing Georgette had remembered about that fateful night was hearing a noise behind the shop and going to investigate. Then she woke up in her bed with blood on her sheets from the straight edged cut on her inner thigh. She remembered nothing. She didn't know how it happened nor who did the deed. She'd had to bandage herself up and deal with the searing pain on her own. Never would she let someone know the strange happening.

There she was again. The same slab but a different room. The same voice but a different timbre bouncing off the walls. The same threats but more delightful. If only Georgette had remembered that all those things were the same. She couldn't remember this happening to her before but imagined it had to have something to do with what had happened before. It had to -- it only made sense.

Georgette's breath quickened. She wished her eyes weren't covered. Beneath the sheath her eyes darted back and forth in the hopes of somehow figuring out where she was. She wanted to take it all in so she could remember. She felt weak that the scar she received was something she couldn't piece together. Not this time. She also wouldn't be hurt. Not this time.

"Who are you?" Georgette let out. "What do you want?" She wanted to ask why me? but that was too pitiful of a question. "Why have you missed me?" -- she asked completely ignoring the question of whether the aggressor was missed.

The suddenly she screamed in horror. The pain felt familiar, that she knew. She had felt it before. Her nerve endings couldn't forget it. Tears fell down her cheeks.

@r-lestrcnge

where: rabastan & alecto's manor, scotland who: @r-lestrcnge & @xgeorgetteollivanderx

It seemed fitting that Georgette would be the one to christen her dungeon, yet it was the same stone table that remained in the middle of the room. Similar to her old dungeon, this one was a tad more spacious, giving her more options of what else she wished to collect over time. This space would be where she would gather information for the Dark Lord.

The witch did have a beautiful scream, a screech that rippled down her spine and left her body vibrating, bringing forth a hunger . With how hormonal Alecto was feeling, she had faith that this session would bring the release she longed for, the chaos that desired to be free. Unable to collect her prize possession on her own, she had fellow death eaters retrieve her guest, unconscious, ample time to secure her in place and wait for her to wake.

"I've missed you," she purrs, slipping from her chair when the other starts to stir, the tip of her wand running along their arm, tonight Georgette's eyes covered, wishing to keep her mask off. "Did you miss me?" Patience was not her virtue, normally one to toy with her prey, she found the incredible urgency to inflict pain. "Crucio!" The twitching of the witches body causing goosebumps to cover her flesh.

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

Georgette had been in the back working on her most recent wand when she heard the door jingle. Damn. She was in her groove. She wiped her hands on her pants and felt the splinters entering her fingers — something she had become very used to — before entering the store proper.

Seeing the blonde before her was odd. She didn’t know who she was. She knew who everyone was because everyone had gotten their wands from Ollivander’s. Georgette’s brow furrowed as she continued to wipe her hands together.

“You help with your wand?” she asked. It was obvious broken english but sounded like the woman wanted to help with her own wand. Which was it? “You don’t help with the wands. I do that,” she said, putting her hand out awaiting its placement.

where: ollivanders who: @xgeorgetteollivanderx

Apolline was pretty sure there was nothing wrong with her wand, but that didn't stop her from checking in to make sure. A hand pushed the door open to the shop, stepping inside to take a look around before they fell on the woman. "Boujour." A smile on her lips. "I help with my wand, s'il vous plaît."

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

Rabastan was engaged solely on Georgette. She had felt his eyes on her throughout the entire exchange. She didn’t know if she liked it or not — just as the conversation they found themselves having. He was turning out to be an interesting character. That she couldn’t deny. She took a deep breath catching her composure. She didn’t want to come across as anything other than what she was: a girl with no qualms about the world around her, only looking out for number one because no one else dared look out for her, full of quips and insults. These things described Georgette to the fullest but now she was being pushed to think outside her box. It made her uncomfortable. No one had truly pushed her out of her comfort zone in such a way before. But there was a known Death Eater sitting with her, giving her attention as though he cared. What was she to make of that? Something.

“Next time? You really think there will be another time?” she said with as much of an attitude she could muster. “Someone is feeling lucky.” She couldn’t help but smirk — dammit. “Of course I’m right about something. I’m right about more than you would imagine.” Georgette’s circle may have been virtually nonexistent but that didn’t mean she didn’t have experiences in life. It also didn’t mean she knew nothing about the outside world or people. She saw the worst in both. Maybe that’s something he picked up on and liked it. She didn’t know anything at that point which drove her mad. She liked knowing and sitting there she didn’t know a great many things.

“Gringotts. I wouldn’t have guessed. You seem like the Ministry type. Sure you’re not lying to me?” she raised an eyebrow. It was true. The way he was dressed, the way he carried himself, his alignment — it screamed Ministry.

We. He used the word we’re so easily. “Sadistic violence, no,” Georgette said in a way that sounded like there was something else she would be willing to do, catching her off guard. “I don’t know if what I do is noble but it is required. A true necessity.”

She took another breath as he made his next statement. The war would touch everyone at some point. Unfortunately he was right as much as she didn’t want him to be. Maybe she did have to pick a side. She opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out.

She took the final sip of her butterbeer and grabbed her coat. “I guess until next time.” She supposed there would certainly be a next time.

[ END ]

Rabastan was encouraged by fact that she still sat there, engaging in this conversation. Though he didn't know her well, he knew enough to conclude that Georgette Ollivander would not tolerate unwanted company. The tone now was significantly different to their previous meeting. It was a contrast, in fact, to the start of this interaction, when she had reacted with prickly defence. These facts told him all he needed to know: he was making the correct decision. She was inclined towards their cause, whether she realised it or not. He could have patience. Patience to consider this further alone, and patience to wait for her to reach her own conclusion. It never did to force soldiers into their ranks. Fear only went so far, and he desired a stronger sort of recruit; one that would be bound by faith and belief.

Observing her willing curiosity, it was tempting to answer honestly. But it was too soon for overt statements, so he merely smiled and wrapped his fingers around his drink. "Perhaps I'll tell you next time," he told her, and he had no doubt that there would be a next time. "Some secrets are worth keeping. You said so, yourself."

He watched the emotions travel her features, seeping into a body language that was unnaturally uncertain. She had only ever struck him as self-assured. As she met his eyes, he felt a thread of vindication, seeing the potential fortitude in that bold stare. She was not a weak thing. He was convinced she would be an asset.

"And I work at Gringotts," he countered pointedly, a faintly humoured curl hovering his lips. "This would require force and determination. The Ministry is not an easy shell to break. There are some who would fight for the selfish pleasure of it, and then there are those like you and me, who wish for something more noble. We are the ones who should be feared, for we would do it for a greater good and not to sate sadistic violence." His use of tense was carefully chosen, hypothetical and not immediate, in case of prying ears. It was a theoretical conversation, at least on the surface. "You should think about it. The war will touch everyone, sooner or later."

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

Georgette knew where this conversation was going and didn't know how she felt about it. Rabastan was somehow an easy person to talk to -- something rare in her world. The fact that they had been speaking for some time instead of her running away said something. What it said she wasn't sure but she couldn't pull herself away. He was interesting and attentive. He actually listened to her -- again, something most people wouldn't do. She felt a mixture of feelings, knowing what he was getting at but not being able to end the meeting.

She could see the wheels turning in his mind as he laughed. But she could tell he wasn't laughing at her. She was used to being mocked so could easily tell the difference. Wondering what exactly he was laughing at was a different story. She wanted to know. "Why the laughter?" She shifted in her seat, curious to the bone. It could have been anything and she was prepared for what he had to say.

Through all this Georgette was surprised at how forward Rabastan was next. She knew where he stood in the war. It was obvious and his name alone screamed Death Eater -- so why was she sitting with him so comfortably?

Not mix muggle and magical blood. There it was. What she was waiting for. Her eyes looked to the ground for a brief moment then looked him straight in the eye as he continued to talk. Georgette was quiet. She didn't know what to say as she had never given a real thought about what side of the war she would ever be on if she had to choose. She had always stayed in the middle, not wanting to be involved but he was so suave.

"I hate to break it to you but if it can only happen at the Ministry level I'm not your girl. You know I work at Ollivander's." She almost hoped that would give her some excuse but was sure that it wouldn't. "I'll be honest with you. I've never thought about this before," Georgette admitted.

Rabastan was thrilled by this evening's progress. He'd sought Georgette with only a vague notion in mind; that her skill could be useful to the cause. But what he'd discovered was far more formidable. This witch possessed the ideals that he cherished. It was rare to find someone so like-minded, even among other curse-breakers. Not many treasured their art with such reverence. It was a dying respect. It was a tragedy.

As she acknowledged his secrets, he couldn't help but darkly chuckle. She had no idea what she'd obliquely accepted. The irony was impeccable, considering he was becoming increasingly convinced that he wanted to recruit her. It was something that required more thought. He would not abandon this idea, but he did not yet know how much she would be able to tolerate, or how much of herself she would be willing to sacrifice for their fight.

The next part of their conversation illuminated his uncertainty, at least by a measure. He scanned his eyes over hers, taking another large gulp of his drink and observing as she adjusted her position. He wondered if this discussion made her uncomfortable, or if she was merely fidgeting through her thoughts.

"I think it's quite simple, Ollivander." He spoke bluntly and assuredly. "We must not mix muggle and magical blood. Neither should we mix our traditions. We must remain separate. This change can only happen at Ministry level, but there are too many who do not understand the need for change. Therefore, they resist."

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

There had never been pain like this. Unforgivable curses; she supposed she they were unforgivable for a reason now. No one deserved this hurt. Georgette had emotional scars and now she imagined her body would never heal from what what being done to her. She was sure she would always feel the pain scouring through her veins. If she stayed alive that is.

“Pretty when she begged.” If only she had something to say. Even if she did her voice box wouldn’t allow it. A tear fell down Georgette’s cheek. Not only was she being physically tortured, whoever this was wanted to mess with her mind as well. It was was working.

Finally the masked individual took the wand from Georgette’s side. A small relief. However it was short lived. This person put the wand to her head. Georgette was terrified about what this would mean.

She barely heard the curse before feeling the pain soar through her head. Georgette’s brain was on fire. It crawled down to her chest. Her heart felt like it was going to explode. She groaned and attempted to grab the stone slab with no luck. All she could do was shake and shiver. Her head was slamming back and forth. Georgette grabbed on to her memories of the shop as much as she could to get her through this ordeal. But the pain — the pain. It was unreal. Was she going to make it?

Alecto knew that their time together was limited. To remove a memory, a short term memory, would only allow for a certain period of time. "You sound so pretty when you beg." She sneered, wanting the witch to pay for the way she treated her. No one insulted Alecto Carrow and got away with it. The edge of the wand digging into the other's side is removed, instead Georgette can feel it glide down her cheek. "Crucio." The pain from the unforgiveable curse strikes the witch confined to the stone table. A delightful smile seeps on her features, enthralled by the withering body in front of her.

Moving around the table, hazel hues glance over Georgette, deciding where she wanted to mark the witch, leaving her with a scar that would confuse her come the morning.

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

It took Georgette a moment to realize that Rabastan was actually listening to her instead of getting bored with her rant about the wands. It put her more at ease. She hadn’t found someone to talk so freely about them without their sheer boredom. It was wonderful, she had to admit. Wands were her passion and to have someone so interested began to warm her icy interior as well as exterior. Not entirely but it was there. How Rabastan Lestrange was doing that was beyond belief but it was happening.

Georgette didn’t have a lot of friends. Hardly any if she had to be honest. She had Emmeline, of course so at least there was one. She wasn’t anticipating calling Rabastan a friend by any stretch of the imagination but it was nice having a real conversation. Not many could keep her interested let alone keep her talking. He had some sort of power over the situation but she didn’t dare stop it because she wanted �� needed and craved — some sort of attention and he was giving it to her hand over fist.

“I’m glad we can agree that there are secrets worth keeping. One day they might come out but they’re a secret for a reason. I accept your secrets as well,” she said being keenly aware of the splinters in her fingers from wand making and handling. They were a constant reminder of who she was and the love she had for what she did. Sure there was pain but what love didn’t have pain?

Then there was a shift in conversation. A shift that honestly intrigued Georgette and made her think about the use of magic more than she had before. “Controversial, yes.” She raised both eyebrows as she thought. “The wand and the witch or wizard it belongs to is vital in the magical world, that’s true. Without a wand we are just like anyone else. Yes there are other ways to perform magic but the wand is a part of our magical being. Anyone without a wand is, well, different. And, I’ll admit, having been in the wand shop my entire life …it’s odd to think of anyone being without one. I’ve never thought of mingling with muggles. Let’s be honest about what you’re getting at.” Georgette shifted in her seat. “Magic must be protected,” she paused,” but I personally don’t know how I would go about doing so.” She said thinking of her morals.

The more she spoke, the more he listened. His excited interest spread like wildfire beneath a calm exterior, his eyes perhaps the only window to sheer thrilled and hungry delight. Everything she said spoke volumes. These were the causes for which he fought. Blood purity was only the beginning. It was the basis for something far greater. Weakened blood meant diluted magic, and in time there would be too few who were able to achieve the great things she described. He believed it with every ounce of his being. There were plenty in their ranks who would gladly kill muggles or torture their way to power, but there were few who understood why it was important beyond mere selfish greed.

"Agreed," he said slyly, thinking of his own secrets, the greatest lying dormant in almost plain sight - hidden beneath the material covering his arm like a torturous shroud. What he would give to see the day when his commitment could be flaunted in public, given the respect it deserved. All in good time. Ordering her butterbeer, he resisted the urge to comment on the almost zero percentage alcohol content in the original variation - a fact he knew to be true, since it had taken an awful lot of the stuff to make his house elf drunk as a child. The poor creature consumed a large volume and was scolded for obeying such a ridiculous command; a pointless reaction from his own mother, considering the elf had no ability to refuse.

"I have many thoughts on magical use," he told her, once they both had their drinks. The tone shifted marginally, edging towards something more serious. He wanted to keep this interaction casual, but the strength of his faith in such details was too great to restrain for long. "Some of them are perhaps controversial. You said that the wand and the wizard are meant for great things, that the masses are incapable. I believe this is endemic. It could lead to terrible things, to the loss of great magic if there are none left who understand it. But it could also be prevented if we change our ways."

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

EMMA MACKEY photographed by Laura Jane Coulson for Pop Magazine Issue 49, Autumn/winter 2023

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

"Of course there are people I know on a cursory level but that hardly equals much of anything now does it?" Georgette asked. "It's impossible to go through Hogwarts without being forced to know who people are. But knowing them is a whole other ballgame."

Lily's choice of argument wasn't a workable one. "The drunkards are part of the problem. I doubt there's a soul in there who hasn't been drinking." Georgette would have been willing to put what little money she had on such an assumption. Georgette was always the only one who didn't drink or touch any kind of drug -- not even pot. All she did was chain smoke cigarettes. With her parents' addiction problems leading to giving Georgette up the last thing the witch wanted anything to do with was mind-altering substances. But that was a story not told. "If you have to drink to have a good time then something is wrong."

Georgette pinched her eyebrows and lit another cigarette. "I think I made a mistake coming out here tonight," she said to Lily as a group of drunks came through the doors. "Nice chat," Georgette said in a half-assed way as she walked back to her safe space. A space she truly needed after such a big mistake.

[ END ]

Lily was doing her best to encourage the other to come in and join them. But of course she knew she also couldn't force her. She also knew she'd had enough to drink that it was equally as likely that she was doing a poor job of trying to be helpful. The cool fresh air outside had done little to alleviate that tipsy feeling. She had to consider her statement for a moment before she shrugged, eyeing the other. "Is that your way of saying you don't know anyone there?" It seemed rather unlikely, there were so many people inside celebrating after all.

"In any of their defense, there are a lot of people in there...many of them completely hammered. I don't think they're likely to notice anyone's absence. I imagine a few might still think they're in there talking to me." She attempted to joke, a smile playing on her lips. "Doesn't your curiosity make you want to go in? At least have a peak at what's going on inside?" She wiggled her eyebrows at the other.

[xgeorgetteollivanderx]

The nasty truth of the matter was that Georgette did want someone in her life. She had struggled so much on her own and had no one to share it with. She also had kick ass moments that no one knew about. It was getting tiring keeping to one’s self all the time. She wanted someone to share things with — even if she was bitchy while doing so. There problem was she wanted someone to be around who accepted her just as she was. She didn’t want to change just to please anyone. And she wouldn’t. Probably why she didn’t have anyone in her life. It has always seemed easier to just stay to herself and be herself rather than trying. Trying for Georgette was showing up.

“Knowing someone and knowing someone are two different things,” she replied. Of course she knew the people inside. From school or the shop she knew everyone but that didn’t mean any friendships. She was always looked over in her dirty clothes and quiet demeanor. It took time for her inner bitch to come out. She wasn’t always this way but it’s what she became when she felt she had to protect herself.

���I doubt anyone has noticed my absence,” she admitted in a melancholy tone. “But I notice everyone’s absence.” She took a drag of her cigarette. “I came out of curiosity.”

Lily recognized the other woman, recalled the occasional run in while in school. Georgette, her name coming to her suddenly. She was also sure she'd been the one to mend her wand for her after one particular nasty mission where she thought it irreparable. They weren't necessarily friends, but Lily tried to be friendly with everyone she came into contact with. She only hoped she wasn't making a complete fool of herself in her mildly drunk state.

She frowned at the response, and for a moment she didn't know how to respond. Why had the girl come if she felt no one inside knew her or considered her a friend? She also couldn't understand how someone could be so pessimistic, it clashed with her typically sunny demeanor. "Georgette, right?" She shrugged. "You're here for a reason aren't you? Surely you know someone." She offered her a small smile. "And if you don't consider anyone inside a friend, maybe now is the perfect chance to start?" She paused. "Only if you want to of course...but I think it's worth a shot. We might surprise you."