So, what's the truth?

“So you would rather sit around and wait to be taken by surprise again?”

“I’d rather get away from all of this shit. I don’t owe you or anyone anything.” 

“I have friends! When you’re friends with adults instead of children it’s more difficult to all get free time to spend together.” Marzia had hit a nerve. Who could he call a friend that hadn’t betrayed him now except Ed? “Blow up doll would have less hot air in her. What opinions are you talking about? The one that you should be the center of the universe?”

“My roommates are just two years younger than me, doesn’t make them children. I only see one person acting like a child.” She had friends her own age or older too, but she didn’t feel the need to make a list for him. “So now I’m a self involved idiot that talks to much? Or did I miss anything? Something you wanna add?” She crossed her arms, waiting. “You spent time more time with me when I was in the hospital than outside of it. Once I got better and didn’t need you to play hero anymore you were suddenly to busy to spend time with me because hey, I was getting 'better’ now, work’s more important.” 

“Well your friends are eighteen year olds. That should have been the first clue.” Louis had hoped Marzia wouldn’t show up that night to the party. He had forbidden Roxanne from giving his ex an enchanted champagne flute if she did, which probably meant his cousin would do the opposite and he’d have Marzia to worry about on the battlefield. “That’s because you weren’t talking then.” Maybe he could insult Marzia enough she’d leave early.

“What do my friends have to do with any of this? At least I have friends!” She didn’t feel like she could rely on her family at all times, but she never doubted her friends support. Marzia couldn’t stop herself from adding a petty comment at the end. If he was being petty so could she. “Well too bad. I’m a fucking person. Get yourself a blow up doll next time. Or a robot. Or a house elf. Something that doesn’t disagree with you or has their own opinions, because you clearly can’t handle that.”  If he wanted to go, they’d fucking go. 

Louis vanished the blood with a silent spell. “It’s not worse than some of the things you’ve had in your mouth for sure.” He was still angry over the breakup. Marzia didn’t understand. When you’re an auror, you have to put your job first. His life couldn’t revolve around her. That didn’t mean he didn’t want her in it. That wasn’t good enough for her so now she lost the right to be concerned.

“And people call me immature.” Marzia scoffed, rolling her eyes. She wanted to do the right thing and not engage when she knew he was saying that to get to her, but that didn’t last long. “At least those appreciated my mouth.” Which was more than she could say about him since he blew her off several times to work. 

Louis coughed into his fist, and the hand came away wet with drops of blood once again. He hadn’t thought an unbreakable vow would be able to police his thoughts, but there the evidence was. He pictured a calm beach. It didn’t work so he pictured Jonathan Marks and Lawrence Frisk hanging from an old fashioned gallows. That did the trick. As long as he didn’t think about killing them himself he should be fine until midnight. Louis sensed someone staring at him and turned to catch them in the act. “What are you looking at?”

She knew Louis would be here, even if Poppy tried to tell her that he probably wouldn’t come and even if he did she wouldn’t run into him. Well, that plan went well. Clearly. “At the blood you just coughed up.” Marzia rolled her eyes, she thought it was obvious.

“Shut up. Be serious for a moment. Are you in?”

“No thanks. I’m good. I’ve already almost died once this year.”

‘‘Don’t be tactless. Get the hint and move on,’‘ Victoire rolled her eyes, instructing the girl to not bother her any longer. Yet, she wondered why she was being so tactful when speaking to someone like Marzia. So she went on. ‘‘My brother has veela blood in his veins and you look like your mother quite literally fucked a farm pig before having you. You dress bad and it seems to me you’re dense as well. It wasn’t meant to be, Meryl.’‘

“So you think he’s better than me because he has veela blood and I don’t? That’s the stupidest, most prejudiced thing I’ve ever heard. Blood is blood. We all bleed the same at the end of the day. It doesn’t make him or you better than me. And for you to think like that means you’re no better than those old purebloods who think they’re more entitled to magic than muggleborns. Farm pig? Honestly? It was better than the first one, I’ll give you that, but for the next time. Know your audience. I’m Jewish, pig jokes are lost on me. You’re clearly no fashion icon either by the looks of your shoes so I couldn’t care less about that.” If she wanted to think Marzia was dumb, she didn’t mind. She didn’t have anything to prove to Victoire Weasley. 

‘‘Don’t get your hopes up. It’s likely even you wouldn’t convince me for real,’‘ Alex shook his head gently, the ghost of a smile appearing at the corners of his lips. ‘‘Not at the moment. It would be a little creepy to look at, not that you’re creepy. It’s not you, it’s the tattoo…’‘

“Is that a challenge? Because if I set my mind to it I would be able to change your mind.” She was at least sixty five percent sure about that. Marzia didn’t even care if he got a tattoo with her, but she thought it would be fun. What if she made him get one but with temporary ink and he wouldn’t know? That could be fun... “So you’re calling me ugly?” 

“Ugh, fine. But if you change your mind, like, definitely tell me so we can go out.” She offered the mug-turned-cocktail glass to Marzia before settling down on the couch herself. “What do you want to do, then? Watch a movie? Listen to the radio? Talk shit about Louis and send him Howlers?”

“I promise you’ll be the first to know.” She hated feeling like this, but she was in a slump and she had no energy to get ready and fake a smile tonight. Marzia cared more about Louis than she was willing to admit out loud. He’d been there for her when she needed someone the most. She wasn’t used to depending on anyone but herself. “I don’t want to talk shit about him. I knew what I got myself into.”

“You are the best liar,” Nerissa assured her friend, supportive of Marzia and her talents, even though being a good liar wasn’t generally thought of as a virtue. “You may not have it all back, but you’re doing so well. Don’t force it, the little connector bits will come in time, and, until then, you have your friends and..L…well, you have your friends.” She mulled over Marzia’s mildly distressing theory. “If it was just a distraction, shouldn’t we have heard about the real target by now?”

“Thanks.” Other people probably wouldn’t pride themselves on that, but she wasn’t aware of any other big talents she was supposed to have. She wasn’t a sports or academic kind of person. “I just don’t like the uncertainty.” Someone could try manipulating her and she wouldn’t know what signs to watch out for because she didn’t have a reason to be wary of that person before. Which meant that she was keeping an eye on everyone, even her close friends. Until she got her memory back and knew for sure what happened with the attack against her. “Maybe they have a bigger plan. I don’t know. I’m no criminal mastermind.”

“You mean it? …In for all of it, right? Not just the party?”

“Sorry. I’m not gonna sell my soul to you. I already promised that to the guy who let me cut in front of him at Starbucks last week.” 

“Okay, sounds like a good plan to start, but at some point you should leave the house. How about tomorrow night? We can see if Nerissa’s around, too, or anyone else and still get drunk, just outside the house.”

“I would prefer not leaving the house. At least for a few more days.” Was she being self pitying right now? A little. 

“Hell yes to going. Bring your wand. You caught the loophole in this whole peace agreement thing, right? New Year’s Eve. Fireworks at midnight, babe.” 

“Well, count me in.”

‘‘No, I definitely told you straightforward from the start. It should come as no surprise. And, frankly, why would I have supported it? Look at you. But no, I agree, no offences anymore. It’s pointless. Live well, kid.’‘

Marzia had planned to walk away, but she wasn’t going to let Victoire insult her like that. “What do you mean look at me? There’s nothing wrong with me!”