WHERE IS YOUR GOD

she sneered, annoyed at the fact he had asked her to the ball yet she was waiting for him. the common room was nearly empty before he came out. she hadn’t completely noticed he was in front of her, she was too busy fiddling with her wand.

at the sound of him clearing his voice her shoulders jumped, slightly startled. “you fucking scared me.” she kicked herself off from the wall, not fully noticing how he had looked until she made eye contact. she refused to admit it – even to herself, but he looked really good. she blinked a few times before her brows furrowed at his backhanded compliment. “of course i do. i didn’t buy an expensive dress to look ugly. word of advice, laurent – relax on the compliments. you were almost nice to me. how uncharacteristic of you.” she placed her arm in his, making their way out of the common room.

“i was tempted to wear something completely ridiculous, but i was nice enough not to embarrass you for once. aren’t you so proud of me?” her tone dripping with sarcasm. 

Laurent chuckled into his free hand as they made their way out the dorm, feeling somewhat lighthearted for once. It’s been a while since he’s been able to relax and he was definitely going to make sure he was going to have a good time at the ball.

“Mimi, you embarrass me on a daily basis, what difference would another night make?” he playfully smirked at her as they made their way through the moving staircase.

@hufflaurent

she kept fidgeting in her dress, noticeably uncomfortable. whenever someone would look in her direction she’d glare or tell them to look away. she cursed under her breath waiting for laurent. of course he’d be the one to be late. “holy fuck.” she proceeded to knock on the door of the fifth years boy dormitory. “hey, fake – hurry up!” she yelled. the door opened, thinking it was him she backed away, but it was someone else. she sneered, leaning her back against the wall, arms folded over her chest.

“Hey, Fake – hurry up!”

Heads turned to an unbothered Laurent as he continued to fiddle with his hair, making sure he had enough volume for the perfect sweep.

“She can’t rush perfection,” Laurent lazily drawled. He looked over himself in the mirror again and ran his eyes from the tips of his shoes to the highest strand of hair. Perfect. He made sure the crisp white button up was unbuttoned just enough for this collarbones to be visible and his custom hand stitched jacket was crease free. Letting the corner of his lips pull into a confident smirk, he pocketed his wand before making his way out of the dorm.

He knew the dress code for the ball was meant to be evening attire but. Somi’s petite frame was hugged in black and Laurent had to take a step back to remember this was Somi, Mimi, of all people. Clearing his throat, he stepped up to his date and offered an arm out to her.

it was funny, hysterical really, how her tea leaves never foretold this happening.

she smells vaguely of jasmine, a heavy puff of smoke bursting through the opening door of the divination classroom momentarily engulfing students as they make way to their next activities. while some scurry, rushing in attempts to beat a time limit, nina takes her time in rolling up unused parchments and tidying up her work station before leaving— this was her last class of the day, leaving the rest of her evening free.

normally she would be happy but oh, how she wished her days were longer, that she still had somewhere to be. he was hard to miss, and his very presence sent memories flashing in her mind. he looked so at ease, it was almost scary.

he shouldn’t be here, she thinks, hands gripping each other a little harder as her head lowers. she hopes he hasn’t noticed her, that she can make it back to her common room swiftly, but she hears his footsteps and now she’s lost a race she could never win. a sigh leaves her, and she stills, waiting for him.

“laurent.” mon loup.

It’s funny how so much time has passed since they went separate ways and yet nothing has changed at all. Her hair still shined in the sunlight, her eyes still held a soft sparkle, and she was still as he remembered. She smelled familiar, like home, and yet.

He stilled for a few (seconds? hours? years? lifetimes?) moments, taking in Nina’s face, before he caught himself. Clearing his throat, the Hufflepuff leaned back against the stone wall, crossing his arms. The ideal image of poorly concealed nonchalance.

“Nina,” Laurent acknowledged, silently grateful his voice was somewhat steady. “What a pleasant surprise. Were you on your way somewhere? Actually, that’s not important. What’s more important is the Yule Ball.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait to be dismissed by her, and fell into a comfortable space. The grade A egotistical narcissist; a role Laurent has perfected over the years.

‘MIMI’ & YVES ‘FAKE’ LAURENT | YULE BALL ATTIRE.

@hufflaurent

if you knew somi, you’d know she spent majority of her time trying to find her pet snake lucas. it was a long-winded game of hide and seek, but she didn’t mind. she knew lucas well enough that he’d be fine. from afar she noticed an owl flying toward her, it was poofer. “hi poofer!” she greeted. much more friendlier than she would have to its owner – laurent. a piece of parchment being pushed for her to open by her feathered friend. she narrowed her eyes. opening it. 

yule ball y/y?

she stomped her foot against the ground, running toward the great hall – it was dinner time, he had to be there. she stormed toward the hufflepuff table, hands slamming against the surface. “LAURENT.” she yelled. “IS THIS SOME KIND OF FUCKING JOKE?” she shoved the piece of parchment in front of his face.

Laurent was never the type of person to sweat over anything (except for the first time he lost Poofer, but that’s a secret). Almost anything he did, he approached with a lax attitude. This was no different.

He sat in the Great Hall, already on his second glass of pumpkin juice when a blur appeared in front him. Somi’s hands slammed on the tabletop, causing a few students to jump. Laurent barely spared them a glance, eyes settling on Somi’s outraged face, and felt the corner of his lips pull into a lazy smirk.

He put the cup down and placed his elbows on the wooden surface (Mother would’ve been scandalized) and rested his chin on his palms, head slightly tilted upwards.