HEART OF FLAME.

the boy bristles, the insult to hims family sending all sense out the window, all self-preservation, all restraint. his knuckles are white, one fist clenched and shaking, the other tight and steady around his wand. robes billow as he tilts it towards her, hidden so that only she might see it, and not any onlooking teachers or snitches. “i will curse you to hell and back, dursley. i’d crush you without even breaking a sweat. they’ll wake you up in st mungos in a few months and you won’t even remember your own name. that’s a promise. so take it back.”

Audrey wasn’t stupid. She knew why it was Eliza had picked her, of all her friends, to come to her at this time of need. She wanted honesty. That was the trust with which her and Eliza had built their friendship upon — they’d always be honest with one another. Even if they weren’t honest with anyone else. Especially on Audrey’s end. And yet still she had lied, would continue to lie — or at least bend the truth. No one knew, and Eliza wouldn’t either. She couldn’t tell her that she empathised, no matter how much she wished she could. I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to accept it, I know that this is something no one should have to deal with. Audrey wasn’t good at empathy, and for once it was being handed to her on a silver platter and she couldn’t even fucking use it. She felt useless. A shit friend. 

Blowing a ring of smoke into the air between them, Audrey’s lips tilted into a frown. She hated all this false positivity, this air of casual nonchalance. She wanted honesty — as best as she could give it, and as best as she could receive it.  ❛ El, you are the shit. Do you really think I’d be friends with you if you weren’t one of the coolest people I’d ever met? ❜  Honesty, finally. And yet still an aura of fake, of smiling when none of this was funny. Audrey’s head fell against Eliza’s, the cigarette finding its way back to her lips as she took note of the bottle that was now tossed aside for another. What a shit fucking pair they were.

Listening to Eliza’s words fall into a tumble of self-hatred, Audrey felt frozen. She’d always known El suffered from these intrusive thoughts, but she’d never heard them out loud. It was excruciating — and she wasn’t even the one feeling it. Audrey wasn’t one to cry, and yet still she felt a prick beneath her eyelashes. What could she possibly do? What could she possibly say? She had to listen first, but even that was hard. Her friend was in pain, and all she wanted to do was help — a very un-her thing to think. Her throat was closing, her eyes drifting shut as she lifted a hand to stroke at Eliza’s thigh. It was the best she could do to tell her keep going. Let it out. I’m so fucking sorry.

Eliza laughed, trying to take her words to heart when everything in her mind was screaming at her not to. “Right, you’ve always had flawless taste, Audrey. I suppose I should take that as a compliment.” She grinned, trying to hold onto that feeling of lightness for a moment as she continued.

The sob caught in her throat, becoming more and more difficult to swallow back down. Her breath came out in shallow pants, eventually leveling out. Feeling Audrey’s hand on her thigh, she intertwined their fingers; the feeling of her friend’s hand was the only thing tethering her to reality at this point. She needed something steady to keep the memories at bay, to let her know that she wasn’t back at the Dursley household - she was here and here might be pretty fucking shitty but it was better than there.

“Merlin,” Maddison breathed out in a scoff, a cloud of white smoke passing through her lips. It was both infuriating and entertaining, and she eyed Eliza with a polite smile. “Why are you so interested in the matter?” It might be vanity—it wasn’t strange for people to wonder that they were excellent sexual partners, but that was just boring. She tried, “It’s none of your business anymore—unless this is your way of telling me that you miss me? Way to be subtle, Eliza.” She had to give it to the other girl, though—to pick on Maddison and her choice of… people whom she couldn’t even truly consider as her friends… They were close enough, she supposed, but it wasn’t as if they needed her for friendship, and vice versa. Even if there was a hint of truth in it, Maddison had gone over that hurdle long ago. “ ‘ The Mean Girls reboot rejects ’ ? You’re aware other people call us worse things—and that’s the best you can do? Why am I even surprised–” She waved a hand dismissively, as if she were swatting at a fly. “Anyway, they’re doing just fine. Thank you so much for asking!”

It didn’t matter how many times it happened, but coming across Eliza still felt like a slap to the face. But to bring up Cress? Her parents? It was like being punched by Vivienne Chang all over again, though the force was infinitely worse and the aim was infinitely better. Maddison’s blood boiled, and she worked hard to split the fury from her voice—but it remained there, unwavering. “I cared more about Cress than you? That’s a blatant lie that even if I tried to justify it to you, you wouldn’t understand.” There were things about their fight that she remembered—and choosing Cress over her wasn’t born out of her budding fondness for the squiblet himself, but rather their alliance—but she would lie, she would lie if it meant never acknowledging what had been said about her parents. “It’s only fair, don’t you think? You won’t ever give me a straight answer, so why should I?” 

There. Maddison clenched her jaw. It was jabs at Natalia that caught her attention, wasn’t it? She gave a slight shake of her head, holding Eliza’s gaze as she said, “I don’t think ‘ being clever ’ was the intention.” Somewhere in her mind, she heard Gemma’s and Genie’s voices—it was all she needed to temper her anger, soothe her words with poison. “Any bit of clever would’ve been wasted on the likes of her. I can’t speak for the perpetrator themselves, but I’d imagine that it’d be a bummer to put that much effort in something only for it to be misunderstood. So, I suppose that they had to settle for something that was easy, but effective.” Maddison put on a reassuring expression. “It’s not the perpetrator’s fault that the victim’s daft enough to fall for it.” 

Eliza shrugged, taking a puff of the cigarette before blowing the smoke in Maddison’s direction. “I would hardly say I’m interested, just more pitying than anything else. Even a lap dog deserves to be pet right occasionally,” she sneered. At Maddison’s assertion that she missed her, Eliza couldn’t help but laugh; after all, if you tell yourself something enough, you might believe it. She snorted, looking her up and down. “I’ve already got one pillow princess in my life and she’s much... sweeter than you,” she said, licking her lips in a way that suggested that she wasn’t just talking about Maddison’s temperament. However, after a beat, she nearly kicked herself for mentioning that she was getting laid again. As much as she wanted to shove it in her face that she was doing just fine without her, if it came out that she was messing around with Natalia, it could be disastrous. She shrugged once more. “Putting more effort into an insult would mean that you actually matter in the grand scheme of things. Which, obviously, you don’t. Just pretty and plastic, like that muggle movie. Your image might stand the test of time - after all, who doesn’t love a bit of gossip - but there’s really no substance to you. So, yeah, I thought the name was rather fitting.”

Eliza’s eyes narrowed at her words, her emotions getting the better of her. She had to bite her tongue, knowing that the pillow princess comment was already enough of a slip up. She nodded once, forcing out a laugh. “Right, so it wasn’t Cress - it was Genie? Gemma? Odilia? Or was it mummy and daddy? You didn’t really answer that bit.” At her question, Eliza stepped forward, holding her gaze as she did so. “You want a straight answer, Madds? Let me give it to you.” She tossed the cigarette aside, stubbing it out before turning back to her. “You’re a spineless coward and it disgusts me. I don’t even know if you actually believe in all the shit you’re spewing or if you just like the attention you get from people who don’t give a fuck about if you live or die. You’re a pawn and you actually chose that position for yourself. It’s fucking pathetic,” she finished, pursing her lips. “That straight enough for you, Bulstrode?”

They had their orders, unofficially, during the chaos. Find comfort in it and make sure the confusion lasted. It needed to last. Distract, interfere…anything to keep the upper hand. So that’s what Thalia did. She listened to the rules the way she was taught to. And she excelled at it. That didn’t mean it came easy to her anymore. This scheme timed with the new registry - it was a lot. Not something even Thalia could ignore in its entirety, pushed to the back shadows of her mind where it would live while she dwelled in ignorance. Not this time.

Her steps had brought her back to the quidditch pitch, her mind wondering as she fought an internal battle that was almost as harmful as the war they found themselves in. As she walked, no one bothered her, no one would. A Rookwood and a Praepostor, Thalia was pretty much free to wander where she wanted when she wanted to. The last thing she expected to find in the empty pitch was someone else. A someone whose voice was even, accusatory in its tone, as though asking a much deeper question than the words that were said. The seventh-year stopped in her steps, looking towards the other as they moved closer, wand out and ready. Smart girl. “A little too nippy for my taste,” Thalia responded, standing her ground though she was ready to move for her wand quickly if needed. “Didn’t mean to interrupt…” she trailed off, eyes spotting the broken bottle not too far away, noticing the way the girl was on edge which, of course, made sense all things considered.

Eliza’s eyes narrowed as she finally was able to focus on the face of the person before her. She didn’t know her, which automatically made her believe she was a threat, causing her grip to tighten on her wand. She knew almost everyone in McGonagall’s Army, and the fact that this girl wasn’t familiar made her an enemy in Eliza’s eyes. As that thought crossed her mind, she nearly lowered her wand, thinking of Audrey and Alice - they didn’t always seem to be on the right side, but that didn’t mean they were the bad guys. She remained firm, however, trying not to spiral in a direction that was far too grey for her liking. This was war - everything was supposed to be black and white. There was good and bad... right?

Eliza arched a brow, stepping forward as he challenged her. “Oh, yeah?” She asked, lips curling into a smirk. She was always looking for a fight, after all, and it looked like he was about to give her one. “And how, exactly, do you plan to accomplish that, Diggory?” She stepped further into his space, eyes remaining level with his. “Hm? Make the first move and you’ll regret that too.”

to z diggory ( @zdiggory )

Eliza arched a brow, stepping forward as he challenged her. “Oh, yeah?” She asked, lips curling into a smirk. She was always looking for a fight, after all, and it looked like he was about to give her one. “And how, exactly, do you plan to accomplish that, Diggory?” She stepped further into his space, eyes remaining level with his. “Hm? Make the first move and you’ll regret that too.”

Gone. Gone. Gone. G o n e. 

The word was repeating in her head, coming to a volume that made her ears nearly bleed. Every time she thought she had gotten the hyperventilation and shaking under control, the word came back with a vengeance. Lily - their leader, lionheart incarnate, fierce and rearing for a fight, one of the few children of the man who was their savior, Eliza’s savior - was fucking gone, probably being tortured or worse by a threat was was becoming more and more lethal with each passing day. It seemed that they were fighting a war that was impossible to win; every time victory was close in their grasp, something like this happened. Lily was gone - taken - and it seemed like they were moving back in time, to a time where registries and branding was normal and expected. It made her sick, fed that burning coals in her stomach that made her want to fucking scream and rage and destroy anyone in her path. It fucking terrified her - a feeling that she would never, NEVER, say out loud. She was the strong one, the one someone could lean on, the one who would promise to beat the shit out of anyone who hurt you, the one who would protect you until her last breath. But she didn’t know how to fight this fight and she sure as hell didn’t know how to fucking win.

Tears started to prick at her eyes, the lump in her throat becoming to thick for her to swallow down. She bit her lip until she tasted blood, silent sobs wracking her body with each passing moment. She stared up at the sky, her vision blurring as she tried to tell the stars apart, tried to concentrate on something - anything - to make herself stop crying. Once she allowed herself to let go, let the tears flow freely, she couldn’t stop. And she had to stop, she had to pull herself together - for her friends. She could never make herself correct her behavior for her own sake so she had to focus on others. She slowed her breathing only for it quicken when she heard oncoming footsteps. 

an entire lifetime of unlearning how to be true and learning how to act was enough. still, maddison wasn’t free from the heartbreak. especially one that had been built between herself and eliza. she wanted to drown—in cold water, in pages upon pages of unreadable ancient scripts, in alcohol, in violence, in death. instead, she stood in some nearly desolated street in hogsmeade, pretending to have a civilized chat with an ex-girlfriend whom maddison only felt hatred and anger for. 

maddison couldn’t help the dry laugh that tumbled out of her lips. a split second between eliza’s remarks had her glancing between the pub and the girl, and maddison felt a tremor of thrill go through entire body. she let the comments slide, like water off a duck’s back. “is this really how you spent the weekend? on your own.” she closed the distance between them, clicking her tongue against her teeth in pity—and although it sent a burning sensation throughout her entire chest to do so—she let herself breathe in eliza’s scent. cigarette smoke, traces of alcohol. good. “you’ve been drinking, huh?” her words were merely a soft murmur against the winter winds that passed them by. “where are your friends, eliza?” 

you of all people know that. maddison wanted to scoff—was she being insulted? made a fool for the actions of the child that she had once been? called out for being another victim of love and to naïveté? a bitter smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, “it was your first mistake to think that i didn’t. of course i care—like, for example, you’re friends with natalia, aren’t you?” that name hadn’t tasted the same since… well, since eliza. she forced a warmth to her tone, a friend’s kind-hearted gaze, as she tilted her head to the side, “someone told me that they saw her at the lake earlier today. something about a secret admirer—who was it? i had my guesses, but it’s a good thing i hadn’t betted on it.” after this whole ordeal was done, maddison would have to pay gemma back for letting her in on that practical joke of hers; and she couldn’t help herself but wonder, was she still there?

Seeing Maddison hurt, that wasn’t something she would lie about. No one liked seeing their ex, and Eliza was no different. But Maddison wasn’t just an ex - she was tied to Cress, tied to that part of her life that she desperately wanted to forget. She didn’t want to think about the people she loved who had turned on her, betrayed her and left her behind like it meant nothing. She had to sever the ties to them; she couldn’t look back, couldn’t think about the good times because they didn’t mean anything anymore. There was nothing but bad blood between them anymore, and she knew that nothing but rage should surge through her body when she saw her. But there was something else there - sadness, regret, guilt, perhaps a mixture of them all. It didn’t matter - it didn’t matter if a part of her still loved Maddison and Cress - because rage and hatred overpowered every other feeling in her body. But that didn’t erase their existence, though. 

As Maddison skirted around her question, Eliza chuckled, flicking her hair back in some semblance of a victory. “That bad, huh? You really should invest in a vibrator, love. I know it’s a muggle invention - Gemma might hex you for touching such a terrible monstrosity - but I can assure you an orgasm would be worth it, based on that little non-answer.” She smirked, the twist of her lips close to a purse. “Ever observant, Madds.” At her question ( where are your friends, eliza? ) Eliza found it difficult to maintain her smirk. “Not sure, probably with their respective partners or getting drunk like I plan to. Still, I’d rather be alone than surrounded by people who look down on me. Speaking of, how are the Mean Girls reboot rejects doing?” She asked, eyebrows arched. The phrase fell from her lips with ease, her tongue used to the words enough that even her tipsy mind didn’t find difficulty repeating them. 

“what? how was i being self deprecating?” she protests, shaking her head. artemis points at the bottle. “i don’t think that’s helping either of us, all that much.” she punctuates the sentence with a small laugh, and a shake of the head. then she does nothing but listen, and wince a little at the teenager’s insistence that everything is fine. she knows it’s a lie without even thinking. “is there anything i can do? like, at all?” she asks, thinking back to how difficult high school was for her. then, at the girl’s questions about the states, art can’t help but laugh. “it’s the president, not the prime minister. bernie. and he’s not really a socialist - closest thing we’ve ever had to it, though. and most people hated him for it. the capitalist bastard won, after all.” she shrugs. “there are always new trashy reality shows. like, the old ones still go, but they don’t stop making more.”

“You mentioned not having a real job and you seemed a bit put off by it,” she answered, reaching to take another swig of the bottle. Her hand stilled when Artemis mentioned that the firewhiskey probably wasn’t doing either of them any favors. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” She offered Artemis a slight smile at her question. “No, probably not. Thank you, though.” She tried to smile again but found the turn of her lips more difficult than before. “Trump,” she recalled automatically. “I know all about him. He’s fuckin’ awful, I know that much. I call the Death Eaters here Britain's Trump Supporters. I don’t know everything about them, but that typically rattles them. Said it once and one of ‘em looked like they would pop a blood vessel. Stuck to it.” She shrugged. “It was all my mom watched, honestly. Made her feel like she was normal. My dad pretended to hate them but didn’t stop him from watching them with here every Friday,” she paused, thinking back to the Dursley house. “Fuckin’ hated those shows, honestly. But it was what I could watch so, the devil you know, right?”

“Hi, Eliza,” Annette could be glad, at least, that it was a friendly face who had caught her, rather than someone else—-Eliza, at the very least, she could trust as an extension of her relationship with Natalia (though she was not sure how either would characterize what was between them, she had her own hopes on that front), so the smile she put on was only marginally forced—she was happy to see her. “Yes, I’m—I’m okay, I was just—” She shrugged a shoulder, head tilting towards Aphrodite, “I was just hoping—expecting an owl, I guess. But that’s—-it’s okay, really, it’s nothing to worry about. How are you?”

Eliza offered her a smile at her greeting, worries not entirely swayed by the blonde’s seeming change of heart. Nevertheless, she continued on with her actions, feeding Phineas a treat before reaching in her bag for more. “Owl from who?” She asked, her nosiness a habit she developed with her close friends. She had very little regard for her friends’ personal space - she was known for all but laying on Alice during their talks and knew the details of Natalia’s life inside and out - but Annette wasn’t nearly as close to her as others were, causing her to pause. “Shit, sorry, Annie. Force of habit. You don’t have to tell me. I mean, I’m here if you want to talk, but, you don’t have to tell me anything.” She stopped in front of one of the school’s owls, giving him a pat on the head as she changed the subject at Annette’s question. “I’m alright. Just wanted to get away from the noise for a bit so I’m tending to my birds,” she said affectionate petting the owl in front of her. She nodded to Aphrodite. “She’s a pretty thing. Can she have a treat? I promise it won’t make her sick. Baked ‘em myself.” 

february 2024.

“ yeah, yeah, mcsomethin’ went swoop and o’nieorilley-oh did a romenia pass. all rather interesting, go blue, “ theodore approached with little regard for the ongoing conversation - quidditch, quidditch, quidditch. that was all these people seemed to talk about. how dull, how typical. he’d cared for quidditch for aproximately ten minutes when he tried and failed to get into the team and thus, it was no longer a valid topic. “ but what the FUCK are we listening to and who’s in charge of this ? whose granny brought this ? did mcgonagall come back from the dead and pick the soundtrack ? “ half of the drink on his cup overflowed with his movement as he swayed around to the self-declared audible disaster. 

“Every single day.” 

@faithlvss; @violentlongiings

“Nah, man. I think it’s their own fatphobic, anti-mag, bigoted thoughts that made them hate me. But good effort there, love.”

to lily potter

Eliza glanced up from where she was collapsed on the redhead’s bed, sending her a glare before faceplanting once more. “I would love to,” she started, her voice muffled by her hair and the quilt surrounding it. She turned over, still laying down, arms thrown over her head. She heaved a sigh as she continued, “but, alas, I’m too…” she thought for a moment, quietly cataloging everything she’d been called this week, “passionate, batshit crazy, poignant, fervent, ardent, pathetic.. take your pick.” She met the older girl’s eyes. “The point is, that was terrible advice; 2/10 on Yelp for you.”