if you're not first, you're last

The nickname caught him off guard– He’d never been close enough with anyone to warrant a nickname and it surprised him that he didn’t even consider it himself. He and Loren weren’t that chummy, but with such an extroverted personality from her, he didn’t think anything past the name besides just how she was. “Pity or no pity, I don’t think I’d have to try very hard to beat you anyways.” He paused for a moment as he mounted his broom. August glanced back at her before adding his final addition. “Lore.”

Loren couldn’t help but laugh at August’s challenging words. There was little she knew about the seventh year Slytherin aside from the fact that he wasn’t the best at picking up on the advances of a woman--despite a lack of subtlety--and she found herself pleasantly surprised with this side of Erichson. “Those are some bloody big words, m’friend.” Swinging her leg over her broom, she grinned over at him when he added on the nickname, her cheeks warming with the strain of her smile. “Ready when ya say go--ya don’t need a head start, d’ya?”

“What?” The words came out sudden and aghast because in no world did that even sound close to safe. “No, no. I have enough stress to even think about that– You’re alive and I won’t question it. And I’ll have to pass on the stink pellets.” That didn’t even seem like a remotely good prank, but Helen supposed she preferred something more if a trick than that. Besides, Arthur could be there and a stink bomb wouldn’t help with their reconciliation. Well, realistically, Arthur would retaliate and Helen wasn’t up for it. 

Loren stifled a bout of laughter at Helen’s apparent disapproval of her past endeavors. Loren had been initially unsure of O’Hannigan’s suggestion to dive into the ravine below the covered bridge, just as Helen was now, but Loren knew better than to prod Bennet in the direction of that stunt as Aine had with her. Some people, she knew, could say no to a challenge with no qualms. 

I’m not surprised at all that you’ve broken a nose– You hit Proudfoot, last I heard, right?” Victor asked, the rumors coming back to him. “No qualms with her– I respect anyone that can make a fourth year cry, but that sounded blooded wicked anyway.” He squinted his eyes at her at the next comment though, not entirely following until he processed it. Then he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. We’re not dating anymore.”

Loren snorted, shaking her head. The recollection of the memory she possessed from breaking Proudfoot’s nose was always good to think back on until remembering the hex that had come after it. “Felt good. Little bitch had it comin’.” Loren lifted a brow curiously after Victor’s final statement. As well as she normally kept up with the gossip around the castle, she’d been a little preoccupied lately. “Really? I didn’t see Ukrainian Bloody Mary lettin’ ya out o’ her grip ‘til after schools end, at least.” 

“Definitely not, you know, I don’t even curse. That’s real mean what they did to you doll, we should be reporting it.” Liam polished his own broom as the pair spoke, quietly examining his own handle for any defamatory carvings. “If I wrote anything, it would be “HA!” Since that’s what I done said when I nabbed the Quaffle outta your hands during that one play. Didn’t see it comin’, did ya?”

Loren shook her head, both at his suggestion of reporting the vandalism and his underhanded poke at humor at the expense of Gryffindor’s loss to Hufflepuff. Despite the young witch’s never faltering competitive streak, she was mentally writing her concession speech halfway through the match. “S’no point in reportin’ it. Bitch or snitch, that’s a new target on my back.” Loren set her broom to the side, eyeing it mournfully as if she’d never fly again. “Rub it in, why don’t ya?”

“Wasn’t me, silly. I value my life, I sure do.”

“Smart on ya, Lumley. Wouldn’t want to make an example of ya,” she joked, her grin fading after a couple of short laughs. She scratched at the engraving of the wooden handle, eyeing it blankly for a moment before she snapped her gaze back to Liam. “I was only teasin’ ya anyhow. You’re not the sort, n’ I know it.”

“I do not.” Victor protested, turning his head away from her. “Don’t you know that violence is never the answer, Rosenburg.” He said matter-of-factly. Victor looked at her again as she answered his question before snorting. “Hey, look at that, we’re both titled. You’re the biggest bitch and I’m the biggest dick. Bitch ‘N Dick. Dick N’ Bitch. They both work.” Victor snapped and shot a finger gun at the broom. “Congrats on the new award.”

“Let’s not be daft, Prince--violence is sometimes the answer. ‘Sides, breakin’ someone’s nose can be oddly satisfyin’. You should try it sometime.” Loren ignored his congratulations. She’d been playing into her award-winning title for years, but it still sounded bad, even tied to the sarcasm that Victor oozed. “Dick n’ Bitch,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “We should get matchin’ jumpers. Merlin forbid your ol’ lady thinks we’ve got somethin’ in common, though.”

At first Helen thought Loren was just being dramatic about her joking answer, until she realized Loren thought she was serious. She pursed her lips together and rolled her head slightly, staring off for a brief moment, as Loren offered a better suggestion.

Loren pursed her lips, scanning her thoughts for an appropriately wild idea while ignoring Helen’s look of irritation. Her Slytherin counterpart had been a good friend to her recently, and despite her teasing and apparent lack of concern for anyone other than herself, Loren genuinely enjoyed having her around. 

It wasn’t difficult to presume that this act of vandalism had hurt Loren’s feelings. He could understand that too. August nodded his head. “Of course. One’s stupid while the other’s stupid and a coward.” He jerked his head towards the pitch, lifting his own broom over his shoulder. 

Loren rolled her newly fixed broom between her two hands, her mood lifting a tad at his suggestion. “Ya sure you’re up for it, Gus?” Loren teased, trying to wipe the thought of the vandalism from her mind completely. To be truthful, Erichson’s assistance was a tad suspicious to her, if only because there were less than a handful of people in the castle that would’ve done her such a kindness. Apart from Helen, McNab, and possibly Lia, the rest of her peers were more likely to hit her list of suspects. “Ya don’t strike me as the type that‘ll accept a pity win, ‘n since ya helped me out, I’d ‘ave to let ya beat me.”

The broom was thrown at him with quite some force, but being Keeper, he had no trouble firmly grasping it. And as he vanished the swear, his eyes flickered towards Loren. She was clearly more upset than she let on. 

August’s slow and certain defense was more than surprising, and it had her raising a brow in genuine confusion. It was rare that anyone sided with her on anything, and she felt the corners of her lips twitch, though she worked to keep her expression blank. “S’nice of ya to say, Erichson, but s’nothin. I’m used to it by now, but it’s one thing havin’ it said to your face and another to have it anonymously carved into your broom.”

Helen let out a laugh at Loren’s greeting. She was never so blatantly welcomed before. Her only friends– Cam and Sam, weren’t the type to be so loudly cheerful. She liked this. The arm loop threw her a little, but Helen only adjusted to fit better. “I was thinking we could fertilize some plants and then do some extra credit, and if we have more time, I know Madam Pince needs the library reorganized.”

As soon as Helen started on about extra credit, Loren stopped in her track rather dramatically, pulling the other girl back. “More schoolwork?” She asked, a look of horror plastered across her face. Melodramatic, sure, but she was sure to sell it. “I’m barely muddlin’ through my schoolwork as is with Quidditch n’ all n’ s’much as I need to keep my marks up to hold on to my spot in the Ministry, I’ll blow my fookin’ brains out if I’ve got to do anymore schoolwork today.” She raised a brow, a mischievous glint in her eye. “We ought to do somethin’ wild, Helen. You need somethin’ more excitin’ in ya life than me n’ your greenhouse.”

Victor let out a grunt at the punch before rubbing his shoulder. He glowered at her rather weakly. “For your information, I do. I’m consistently getting my face punch because people are dicks.” Himself included, but that was a given. “What’d you do to warrant that?” He asked, pointing at the broom.

“But ya deserve every broken nose, don’t ya, Prince?” Loren quipped with a soft snort, her eyes narrowing down at her vandalized broom when he flipped the topic back to the thing of the day that had managed to pissed her off. She shrugged. “Dunno, mate--just today or all week? ‘Corrdin’ to the general consensus ‘round the castle, I’m the biggest bitch ‘round here.” 

loren & helen

Tying her hair back as she jogged off the Pitch, Loren beamed at the sight of Helen waiting for her, a certain smugness dripping into her tone as she started to tease the other girl. “Oi, pretty lady, ya come ‘ere often?” As she met Helen, she linked her arm with the other brunette, starting along with her whilst still sporting her grin. “Where we off to today, then?”

“My handwriting isn’t that bad,” August murmured as he looked over her broom. “But there’s a spell to remove it– I can do that for you, if you’d like.”

Loren thrust the broom towards August, more violently than she’d anticipated doing, nodding her head swiftly. The actual act of vandalism was something that could be fixed and ignored, as August prompted, but as it always did, the word of choice stung for a few seconds. “Thanks, Erichson. S’good of ya.”

“My bad, Rosenburg. Didn’t realize it was yours. Don’t take it personally– I was carvin’ them on all the brooms.” Victor hadn’t, in fact, wasted his time on the petty vandalism, but he’d always take credit for being an asshole just because it was a pretty asshole move to take someones asshole credit away from them anyways.

Loren turned to squint at the young man, crossing her arms across her chest. As heated as she was, she was reluctant to take her frustrations out on Victor, if only because she knew half the things he said were bullshit. After a beat, she threw her fist into his shoulder regardless of whether he was telling the truth or not, and considered it even. “You’re a fookin’ arse, Prince. Can’t believe ya don’t get your arse handed to ya more often.”

“You certainly have…unique taste in music, then.” 

“Wot’re ya, then, Serena? A Duffy fan or somethin’? Ya look like the kind o’ chick to like Katy Perry or the sort.”

“You’re trying to price gouge me on a quill Rosenburg. The way I see it, you haven’t done shit for me.”

“Price gouge? I was givin’ ya the friends n’ family discount, mate. I was bein’ more than fair.” Loren snorted, shifting to rest her chin on her fist, her elbow propped on the table. “Quill sales aside, what’re ya up to t’night, Cor? Ya look dashin’ today, really.”