future cat lady

“Can I help you?” Madison raised an eyebrow, sitting back as her fingers tapped against her beer bottle. It had been a horribly long day training and frankly she didn’t want to do anything that required more than minimum effort for the rest of the night.

“Other than staying seated and looking as though you were waiting for me in order to save me from my pursuer?” She tilted her head slightly to the side to indicate the creep she’d narrowly escaped when his attention was on the barmaid. “No. No one can help me.” She looked at her through her lashes, waiting for dramatization before she leaned back into the seat she’d just taken, a playful smile spreading on her lips. “But I can get you another one of those,” she pointed to the bottle, “as thanks for pretending to be my companion.”

While she hadn’t been spending all of her time sleeping while she was staying with Scorpius, she had been sleeping in later than she’d ever had while in school -- though that might’ve been due to the fact that she slept very little in the night. In any case, she’d required a caffeine fix before any sort of flat tour occurred, and was now standing at the bottom of the steps of her building with one cup in hand, and another resting on the step nearest her feet. She leaned against the stone ramp as she let the servers set up the food in her flat and waited for the girl.

He couldn’t put a finger on what exactly had annoyed him about the flyer. He had stressed to them both that staying with him was a temporary arrangement. They were supposed to leave and he had been counting down to when they did and he had his place to himself again even if they hadn’t been too bad to have around. She may have even mentioned something about her father renting her a flat in the fall. He’d be the first to admit his mind wasn’t always completely tuned in when other people started talking around him unless he was already aware they were talking to him. It was something more than being caught off guard that had him ripping the notice down though. If he wanted to acknowledge it, he might have been able to pinpoint it after all. He’d assumed some kind of agreement between the two of them and Kai to figure something out about revenge on the Maytes. He’d part dreaded what would come even if all the came was angry talk he’d inevitably still make a comment during that would set him apart from the other two, but he’d had expectations that had been let down. That kind of being left alone, the only one that was still dealing with Lawrence and not turning and forgetting even if his dealings and the way he viewed the man were different; that he cared about. It all went unspoken and unacknowledged though. 

He wagged his brows at the sleepovers on the weekends comment though let it go without a comment of his own and let a half smile cross his mouth to show he wasn’t really bent out of shape about her going. “I just didn’t think I’d find out from a poster. It’s no harm, no foul. Relief you’ll be out before I have to worry about study groups and house parties in here unless they’re thrown by me. What’s the first impression of the roommate? Anyone we know?”

“I was going to tell you once I’d found someone. No point in mentioning it if my search lead nowhere, yeah?” She smiled at the house party comment, remembering the planning she’d made in her head about throwing a few parties in her own apartment once she began to live there. “Potential roommate, and we’ve yet to meet. All I know is her name is Sophya and likely Russian based on her last name, and sent me money in her first owl even if she’s yet to even see the flat, so I’m sure she’s suitable enough. Do you know her? Any warnings before I meet her?”

Rhea, 

Anytime this week works for me. Try not to make it too late though. I’m looking forward to that lunch. Give me an hour, an address and I’ll be there.

Sophya Domitrova

Sophya,

How does tomorrow sound? Say, noon at Kings Court North in Chelsea? I’ll meet at the front of the building: I’ll be the one in royal blue.

Scorpius tore the sign off the notice board and brought it home with him, presenting it to Rhea when he found her. “So  I take it you’re leaving?”

Her eyes narrowed as she read her own notice for a roommate in Scorpius’ hand, taking an increasingly long time reading it simply to be annoying. “Well, I do believe it says ‘new term’, does it not? And doesn’t the new term start in September?” She rose an eyebrow. “Unless you were thinking of hosting me for the school year, which I would readily accept on the basis that you’ve been a treat. However, my father’s asked that I find myself a roommate for the flat he’s rented for me, so that’s what I’ve done-- or did.” She grabs the page out of his hand and leans deeper into the couch. “Don’t worry, we can still have sleepovers on the weekends. And, on a more serious note, if you ever need me to come over, all you have to do is call or owl me.”

“Nobody died. If some call me a leader regardless, it is because they are mistaken. The only true leader is, without question, God. And God doesn’t die.” His tone got even softer, despite the dangerous discussion. Yet, Lawrence didn’t mind the topic of his own death. He even understood its use. “If you do kill me, nothing will change. If you wish it so badly, I won’t defend my right to live. I’d just like to say that if you cut off one head, two more shall take its place. And, Rhea, let’s not fool ourselves thinking that everybody is as friendly as I am.” Her answer made him simper genuinely. “That’s amazing to hear. I wish you best of luck.”

Rhea narrowed her eyes, and here I thought he might be an abnormal cult leader. Every nerve in her body wanted her to attack; wanted her to remove one of the people who’d hurt her so much she had irrevocably been changed, and her fear and anxieties only growing in the face of all that was happening to and around her. She’d succeeded in building back her walls since the attack on the castle, but instead of being defined by her anger and fire as she’d once been, she could not remove the fear that had seeped in. She rolled her eyes at the mention of two heads growing in its place, annoyed at typical reference to Greek mythology she’d heard so many times in muggle films by the antagonists. “Then I’ll just keep cutting heads.” She tilted her head to the other side, lifting her wand an inch, “but not yet.” She wasn’t ready just yet. “Also, why are you doing this?” She finally lowered her wand and gestured with palms open toward him. “Why are you asking these questions? Didn’t you get enough answers from me while I was your captive?” 

Lawrence: Houston to Rhea, is it working?

Lawrence: It better. I just said "Houston." Fuck Houston, it's the worst city in Texas.

Lawrence: No but text me back if it's working. Let's do something today, I'm quite bored.

Rhea: Isn't that where Beyonce is from?

Rhea: It's definitely working, I just seem to be having some trouble with... typing..? Why are the letters jumbled? This makes no sense.

Rhea: Wanna throw a party at my mansion?

To Rhea Dunst,

Why is it so much money? Is it negotiable? In the meantime, you have 850 galleons in the envelope. It’s a bit more than what you asked and you should know it was my budget for the whole month, so you will have to buy me lunch when I see the flat. 

Sophya Domitrova

To Sophya Domitrova,

King’s Road is a prime location in the heart of London and is in the royal borough of Chelsea, which would be why it is so steep a rent, but I’m certainly open to negotiations. Which date is particularly convenient for you to come view the flat? I’ll have something for lunch prepared on that date.

“But it should show I wasn’t guilty in the first place. You should have already known that”

“Should it? Does it prove that you weren’t the only other person who knew about me? Because if it does, then I’m afraid I’m clearly missing the point.” She takes another step forward. “And I don’t have to have known anything, Nerissa. But what I do know is that there’s something not quite right about you. If you really want to repair this friendship, then you’ll tell me the truth: otherwise, I’ll find it myself. And no matter how much you don’t want me to, I will eventually figure it out, but there will be no reconciliation if you choose not to be honest with me.”

Yes I know it is great to see me blah blah blah could you move so I can get on with my life? I have places to be and things to do that do not involve this.

“Not that you’re not a beautiful sight, I’m afraid the only thing I know about you is that you dropped this.” She handed over the object that had fallen behind the girl. 

“It’s all ours. It’s just a matter of how much time it will take before all of you accept it.” She sighed, ignoring the rest about the dragon. “I have nothing against you, you know. If it makes you sleep better.”

“I'm sure you can claim that for your village or whatever hole you lived in before you decided to crawl out of it and saw our world, but wanting it doesn’t make it yours. I can assure you it hasn’t been yours for a very long time.” She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “I don’t know you, and henceforth, don’t care, but thanks for the unnecessary assurances.”

“I’ve seen better,” she sighed with melancholy, fire caressing her cheek slightly as she referenced the Selwyn-Marks attempt of a wedding and how it imitated a war zone better than anything she has ever experienced until and since. Nothing could ever match to the surprise, the parallelism, the meticulousness of that event and the attack that followed, although it was her best friend she was pulling out of the sheer pool a few minutes later. Lara raised her shoulders, skepticism painted all over her face. She could appreciate some of the gesture the Maytes have gone for, but something still wasn’t fitting in her perfect picture of the war. “Not my stories. My stories were about princes and princesses, and bearded wizards, and endless goblets. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Mayte before, even as a joke.” Perhaps that was the result of a father who liked to pick his bedtime tales from historic journals and a mother who only knew five wizard versions of Cinderella.

“Well, most of my stories came from Julian, and like most big brothers, he loved to try and scare me. When I asked him he said that Mayte wasn’t a recurring story since it didn’t make me as terrified as some of the other stories did, but he told me I didn’t think they were real.” Maybe she should have paid more attention to them, she thought now. She might have had some better insight if she had, though she doubted the stories would ever account for the entire truth. And even so, a cult of purer-than-purebloods-purebloods would have sounded absurd to her if this had all happened a few months earlier-- and it still did. She'd thought that her kidnappers had had a sort of cult-like vibe, mainly in the way that they --especially Lawrence Frisk-- spoke, but not to the point of ever recalling stories she’d heard when she was a child. “I suppose I was wrong...”