like a river runs

Laure has a series of bangles that she’ll wear to show what pronouns she prefers that day. Gold for she/her, silver for he/his, and copper for they/them. The bangles also flash the pronouns at the start of conversations.

laure's mask

send me ‘!’ to see how your muse appears in my muse’s GOOD DREAMS

Laure & Parker;

Laure doesn’t know how to express to Parker how grateful he is that she’s here in London for all this craziness too, so he tries to bring her little sketches of buildings or trinkets when he can

Laure still can’t believe that anyone who dated René would still want to talk to them, they weren’t always kind to René’s girlfriends (in their defense René didn’t always have great taste)

Laure & Castor;

Sometimes Castor reminds Laure of René, and she’s still not quite sure what to make of that fact.

There were two places in the world Laure always felt most at home, most like the truest version of themself: on the back of a horse, and in the water.

The sun shine down, the water glistened, and Laure floated at the surface like a lily pad, their face turned to the sun.

“Thought I’d find you here.” Devereaux’s voice sounded amused.

Laure opened one eye to see him sitting on the bank of the river. He looked more relaxed than they’d seen him lately and they hated to admit the new look suited him. Then again they’d begun to notice many looks suited Devereaux. It was all very foreign. There wasn’t a guidebook on falling in love with your own fiancé.

“Are you going to join me?” They asked.

“You’re actually asking? That’s a first.”

Laure shrugged and small waves rippled away from the movement, towards Devereaux. “Is that yes?”

The sound of shuffling movement reached them and moments later they could hear Devereaux swimming towards them.

A shoulder bumped theirs.

Laure reached out and tangled their fingers together.

They could hear the way it made Devereaux’s breath hitch. Maybe they weren’t the only one in need of a guidebook.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked quietly.

“Now you won’t float away.” Laure said instead of answering. “We’ll be like sea otters.”

“Sea otters.” He repeated. Something in his voice made Laure think he was making a face. They didn’t turn to look. If they did, it felt like something about this moment would change. Laure felt ready for many things, but not that. Not quite yet.

“Sea otters.” Laure confirmed.

Devereaux didn’t say anything in return.

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m just glad to have some company this afternoon, and even better that the company is one of the only people I got along with at Beauxbatons.” Despite their age difference, Parker had always liked Laure. Their recent conversation about the wizarding events, and justified muggle outrage, also had her thinking that maybe they could be a useful ally to PAM. “You will pass, and they will count themselves lucky to keep you.”

--

“Everyone else was a bit horrible, weren’t they?” Laure said, smile twitching. Maybe it was just that Laure had picked far too many fights on Rene’s behalf to get along with most people, but they really had been so snobby. Not Parker, Parker had always been sweet. “From your mouth to their ears. Lord, I hate exams. What have you been up to, surely it’s better than studying?”

“I will have to make sure Hazel is on her best behaviour then. We don’t want Braise to become fearful of dogs because Hazel was too playful.” Ludo wasn’t sure whether Hazel would be friendly or nervous around the horse, but she seemed to get along with most animals and most humans and he wasn’t especially worried. He didn’t want to upset Laure though so Hazel would be kept close and, hopefully, obedient. “She jumps head first into any stream she comes across.”

--

The idea of Hazel was vastly growing on Laure. Big dogs were still far more intimidating than horses, but if Hazel loved Ludo and also loved to swim, then how bad could the creature be? Plus she was very soft. “I always ‘ave to convince ze ponies to swim with me. And D’artagan only leestens to Devereaux.”

He had known that they weren’t friends, it was just a poor choice of words. And yet, Laure’s response sent a sickly burn through him. They weren’t good to hear, especially not spat back at him like that. Laure knew how to hurt him without wasting words. That was the problem with this so-called “union”. They knew each other too well, but not in any real way that mattered. 

It was how Devereaux knew the best way to end the conversation while inflicting equal damage. They would start to draw a crowd if they bickered much longer, and he didn’t trust himself not to lash out worse. He didn’t think of himself as a particularly aggressive person, but Merlin, if Laure didn’t bring it out of him. 

“I wish I was marrying literally anyone else but you.”

🖌

Laure let out a strangled noise and lost the battle against herself to stay on her best behavior. Glaring at Devereaux, she stalked closer and pushed him back with all of her might. It sent him tumbling back into the lake and Laure found herself wishing it had a strong enough current to carry him away. Hadn’t David mentioned this lake had a squid, a large squid?

“You’re so very welcome for the favor of marrying you.” She spat. “So happy to help your family out.”

She didn’t bother to see his reaction. Laure knew he could swim after all. Hadn’t this been how he learned? She spun on her heel and stalked back towards the castle, determined to have a better rest of the evening.

Continuation of this bad boy Location: Laure’s kitchen Present: Devereaux and Laure ( @lauredeschamps​ )

“You’re not going anywhere, Devereaux Sauvage. You’re both staying here tonight, and tomorrow I can yell at you and you’re still not going anywhere.”

Devereaux hadn’t fought, too heavy with some form of relief to be disagreeable. His cards would finally be laid out on the table for someone. Well, except for the Verité thing, but he was taking it one step at a time. 

He and Laure worked swiftly, administering potions and bandages to René, dressing him in a loose-fitting pair of pyjamas and eventually tucking him into Laure’s bed, satisfied that they’d done everything they could. A good night’s sleep would do the rest. 

The two were now standing in Laure’s kitchen, leaning back against opposite sides of the room while the kettle boiled. He couldn’t remember who’d suggested tea, but it seemed that not a word would be spoken until tea was had. He had tried, but his words had failed him. How did one restart a serious conversation once all the adrenaline had run out?

He raised his gaze from the deeply-fascinating floor tiles to Laure’s face, trying to suss out any sign of emotion. It wasn’t fair to make her ask him, so he took a deep breath and began, “My father brokered a deal with some higher-up in the… organisation. For the family to be safe from looting, fighting and having to acknowledge the declining state of the Wizarding World at all, one of us would have to join them. The life of one son in exchange for as many uninterrupted frivolities as they wished. My father did not even hesitate.”

🖌

When Devereaux had promised her an explanation, Laure had rather expected something sniveling and a bit conceited, something she could write off easily and cast Devereaux out with it. Instead she had gotten what clearly rang as truth, and the prickly hard brand of it at that.

She had known, on some level, that the Sauvage family functioned differently than her own. But to barter away a child’s future just like that? Laure couldn’t wrap her head around it. Her parents would never.

“But he must have asked you.” She said, trying to believe the best of the people her parents called friends. “Surely he asked you first. Even if he didn’t mean it he must have. Right?”

She was glad to have been able to give Laure some space to work, her garden being quiet and enclosed as it was. Parker stepped out of her home into the garden, squinting against the sunlight that blinded her suddenly as she carried a plate filled with sandwiches, cheeses and a cold butterbeer to Laure. “You will do just fine, mon ami.” She placed the plate down beside her. “Fuel for the hardworking student.” 

--

“I cannot thank you enough, truly.” Laure said, gesturing for Parker to join them. It had been so nice of Parker to let them study here in the first place. Laure had never expected food and drink as well. “Hopefully if I pass, my firm lets me stay on.”

Laure’s eyes seemed to widen as they looked at him, and his grin grew in response. The genuine concern displayed at his teasing had both amused and warmed him; it was nice to know his friendship was valued. “I doubt she will get so tall, but she’ll hold her own. Do you think Braise would like an introduction?” he asked, curiously. He didn’t know whether horse and dog would get along as well as their masters. “Few months. She’s a bit pampered… enjoys baths, oddly.”

--

“Braise does not mind dogs, I do not theenk. ‘e likes Devereaux’s leetle Crup.” Though maybe that was different. D’artagan and Braise had been around each other since they were both so young. At least this dog does seem very laidback. Maybe the horses wouldn’t mind. “Does she like to swim, too?”

“creole.” echo corrected as she had been born and raised in haiti, it was her native language. french was similar enough to translate. english was the afterthought. it was among the variety of reasons that she felt displaced in a place such as this. she nodded and pointed at the shack. “non mwen se echo.”

--

Laure tilted his head to the side and listened carefully to the words. They sounded very familiar, it was like hearing French through a few layers of fabric. He decided he liked it. “Creole. Je l’aime. Bonjour, Echo. Vous aussi aimez la mer ?”

Laure had their portfolio spread out before them, scattered amongst the text books. “Why do I ‘ave to pass a test for zis?” They muttered. “Eet eez silly.”

“Mm hm. He listened too much to our parents and their shitty comments regarding the usefulness of squibs, with particular reference to their own daughter and now, though my parents still speak occasionally, he does not” she explained, as breezily as if she was commented that it might rain later, but she hoped that it wouldn’t. “Not at all. Well, not for me” she shrugged, “of course, I’ll be right back with a jug”.

--

Squibs, that was-- it took a moment to run through everything Gilderoy had told them. Right, wix born without magic. Odd but nothing to be ashamed of, surely. “Zat eez an awful thing for ‘im to theenk. Eef you want any brozzers, I ‘ave two, I can share.” Rene would hardly mind and neither would Jules. “Merci beaucoup, merci.” They said once Zara had returned.

echo lived alone now in a shack near the edge of the waves. the one lesson that her mother never hesitated to stress was how important it was to be close to the water. they needed it in ways that most witches and wizards did not, but selkies were unlike them in many ways. that was also the very reason she tried to make herself scarce if others were around. “oui.” she nodded, noting the accent. “il s'appelle baptiste.” baptiste made an unwelcoming sound.

--

Laure brightened at the sound of French. No matter odd it sounded in a British accent he always loved to hear his mother tongue. He made sure to give the girl and her grindlylow space. Couldn’t they be temperamental? Laure couldn’t quite remember. “Tu parles francais!” He said with a smile. “Je m’appelle Laure, enchanté de vous rencontrer tous les deux. Habitez-vous ici?”