lost cause.

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"two galleons,” nazli shouts at them without preamble, inclining their head towards the stubby boardman wannabe on stage and adding, for clarification, “on him winning.” someone who had staggered into the bathroom they’d taken up haunting earlier in the night had said something about betting on the outcome, and someone else had directed them towards none other than oriana trelawney. it didn’t seem entirely their speed, but naz had been confident enough in approaching them until a long enough beat passes for them to start wondering if they’d been fed false information and with uncharacteristic sheepishness they ask, “you’re taking bets, right?” 

they should’ve had an inkling about what they were in for the minute that oriana appears and directs bitter words towards them. nazli doesn’t know them WELL ( same house, a few years apart / same trauma, much the same ), but they’re easily recognisable. the only chance they stood of guessing where the conversation was going to go would’ve been remembering what one year anniversary they’d somehow managed to hit, though, and forgive them, but nazli doesn’t keep track of when their professors were brutally murdered. “that’s one way of coping, i suppose,” they’re not judging. really, they’re not. merlin knew they’d dealt with their losses in weird ways too, but with no idea what they can offer ( they can be forgiven for this, too; they’re only crouching on negotium walk to get some fresh air on their lunch break & weren’t expecting this unfolding moment ), nazli keeps it simple, “you want a cigarette? you can tell me all about it.” 

“you can’t keep doing the dishes like that.” she was LUCKY nazli was the first to emerge from their bedroom, this morning. their bleary eyes an unnatural shade of turquoise and a rat perched on their shoulder ( hairless rum was the chosen one, with coke sleeping as soundly as their muggle roommate back in her cage ), their first stop upon trudging into the kitchen like every step pained them was the coffee pot, their words a mumble. even the smell did wonders for them, and as they waited for the machine to heat up what little remained in the pot, they admitted, “it is effective, though. how’d you get so good at cleaning spells?” maybe they just didn’t share the knack, or maybe they’d spent too long doing things the ‘muggle’ way to master the alternative - nazli had never been able to trust magic when it came to their chores, and there was probably a degree of jealousy fueling their early morning chastising. 

someone  needed  to  get  into  contact  with  the  current  batch  of  ravenclaw  students  ;  there  was  a  perfect  research  study  that  could  be  conducted  out  of  how  their  alumni  always  seemed  to  seek  solitude  in  the  middle  of  a  party.  it  wasn’t  the  first  time  that  nazli  and  luna  had  found  themselves  happy  to  be  alone  together  &  truth  be  told,  it  was  unlikely  to  be  their  last.  luna  wasn’t  like  anyone  else  that  naz  knew,  and  they  enjoyed  her  company  FAR  too  much  to  avoid  it  on  a  night  like  this.  relinquishing  the  blunt  to  her  without  complaint  or  hesitation  is  as  small  a  kindness  as  it  is  a  price  to  pay,  after  which  naz  directs  a   wry  sort  of  smile  their  way  &  leans  their  head  back  against  the  mirror.  “do  you  pay  much  attention  to  my  movements,  luna ?”  playful  smile  plays  around  their  lips  even  while  they  give  a  delicate  shrug  of  their  shoulders,  deciding  the  truth  is  worth  saying.  “i  don’t  see  the  point  in  all  this.  i  mean,  who  decided  valentine’s  day  had  to  be  this  whole  fuckin’  thing  ?  there’s  no  emotion,  it’s  all  just...  money.”  

for  a  moment,  they  are  a  deer  caught  in  headlights.  the  door  to  the  bathroom  pushes  open  and  nazli  freezes,  the  flame  of  their  muggle  lighter  flickering  just  inches  away  from  the  tip  of  their  joint.  they’d  done  their  best  to  choose  the  space  with  the  least  amount  of  traffic  to  hide  away  in  &  are  briefly  fearful  of  being  caught  in  4k  before  the  other  pushes  all  the  way  inside  and  they  breathe  a  sigh  of  genuine  relief.  hiding  away  in  one  of  the  many  empty  cubicles  would  have  helped  them  avoid  all  this,  but  nazli  is  most  comfortable  when  they’re  perched  on  the  corner  of  a  marble  countertop,  and  luna  isn’t  anything  for  them  to  fear.  “you  have  impeccable  timing,  lovegood.  anyone  ever  told  you  that  ?”