#juniorvictor

Saturday Night

“Like a kleenex - use once and throw away!”

It couldn’t have been any earlier than 2 AM. Few minutes after hooking up with a man she had picked up at the bar just down the street from her flat. Both of them laid in her bed. Yet, Danica paid no mind to his presence. She stared at the ceiling and let her mind carelessly wander to the events from earlier tonight. The shite, sorry game of Quidditch. The lush, smug meeting with the towering Broadmoor. How he had made her roar with laughter and pout with propriety all within the same conversation. These thoughts sent a shock through Danica’s chest, and in reaction, she pushed the man from out her bed, followed by a loud thump on the floor, a frail shriek from his mouth and on her command, she snapped at him. “Get out.”

Tuesday Afternoon

“Unannounced and uninvited. The nerve!”

Never in her imagination would Danica have foreseen herself at Wanda’s pristine, marble decorated home on her own accord. Here she was, willingly listening to her older sister bitch and moan on how she hadn’t previously scheduled a time to come by, and now, Wanda was left with the plate settings all uneven at the lunch table. Not to mention how Danica was teaching her nephew Clement how to conjure up licorice wands from the cabinet, when Wanda had specifically insisted on no funny business, as she had implemented a new strict only-one-candy-per-week kinda diet. 

So here Danica was, suffering through the repercussions, after she had attempted to do something - for the first time in her life - that was actually kinda selfless. However, it wasn’t long that Wanda’s sporadic fractions of lectures drove D prematurely out the door. Why did she even come by Wanda’s place in the first place? Last she remembered she sensed a pain in her chest and then found herself making small talk with the random store clerk at Quality Quidditch Supplies. What was the pit feeling she had at the bottom of her gut that just made her feel so... empty?

Saturday Night

“Screw you. I want you and your self absorbent drama out of my life, sister dear. Screw you!”

This time was much earlier than 2 AM. In fact, Danica was home much sooner than she had anticipated. The evening’s plans? A Quidditch game that’d regain the pride it lost last week and a night out in the town to cause mayhem in true twin fashion. Regardless, those plans had come to a large halt at what grew from a small, underlying tiff of tension between Danica and her sister Sloane, to a full on fallout with the person D most cared about in her life. 

As she apparated into the center of her living room, Danica tripped into her unbalanced footing only catching her balance out of reflex. Immediate as the blink of an eye, she let out a loud shriek in pure rage, firing out from the lowest inch of her gut. With her wand still in hand, she noticed the photo of her and her twin sitting on the sofa’s end table. At its instant glance, Danica threw a jarring hex at the frame, letting it shatter all over the floor. With the remains of the frame, but the photo still intact, a forceful grunt escaped her mouth and another curse fired from her wand to rip the picture apart. 

At this moment, Danica began to spit curses rapid fire from her wand around the room, first starting as quick gips that were following the remains of the photo, growing to literal fire spells that she led drag on all over her furniture. In between, you could hear her grunts intensify with every spit of exertion, growing louder with every flick of her wand, until her living room was lit up in flames. 

With one last exasperated spell, counteracting her previous hexes and partially putting out some of her fires, a blood-curdling shout released from inside Danica, sucking the energy from her body enough for her to fall onto her knees. Danica leaned against her hands, staring at the ground as she collapsed into a child’s pose. Her back remained bent over as her empty hand went to touch her face, only to find that she had somehow managed to emit a few tears in the midst of all the chaos she had created. Knowledge of this discovery only made her blood boil once again. 

Sunday Morning

“Just calling to check up on you... call me back. Love, Mum.”

Call it ‘Mother’s Intuition’, but Danica could give zero fucks for it at the moment and deleted the voicemail off her muggle phone.

Monday Morning

“There’s a message from Scamp Young-Broadmoor. He insists you get back to him by the end of the day.”

Fuck that, she thought. Then told her intern to move onto the next item on the list, with all intention that she would be ignoring the man’s advances.

Thursday Night

“... Just come by my place Thursday night, if you really need someone to talk to ...”

Junior had written to Danica practically a week ago. If he really wanted to meddle into the situation, since Wanda clearly wouldn’t speak to her face to face, then she would have to take him up on his offer.

The conversation quickly escalated, as Junior tried his very best to rationalize with his sister.

“I’m not saying Wanda and Sloane don’t have any blame in this-”

“But it is. That is what you’re saying-”

“Can you just listen to what I’m trying to say for a second?”

“No! No. You’re really that fucking spineless, Junior, that instead of choosing a side, you’d rather ride your fiancée’s fucking dick out of it and stay intact.”

“Hey. Hey! Relax, D.”

“Don’t tell me to relax!” Danica slammed her fist knuckles first into Junior’s dinner table, unaware that the wrath inside her subconsciously powered a bit of wandless magic into its punch. Now the dinner table sported a gaping hole where her fist used to be.

Half a minute of silence passed by, as they’d both had been processing how their bickering had escalated, leaving even Danica a little bit shaken up.

She stated, "This conversation is fucking useless.”

Junior could feel the anxious tension tingling through every nerve of his body. He probably wanted to cry, unsure of what to do and slightly hurt by the whole thing, so he just sighed.

“D... I’m only trying to help.”

The truth was neither one of them knew how to help the other. Danica wasn’t ready to help or be helped and Junior... well, he had a lot going on on his own. Especially after Danica mentioned Amy in retaliation, his mind had fogged up and all he wanted to do was walk away. 

Luckily, Danica had rather beat him to the punch.

“I’m gonna go. Bye.” 

Danica disapparated out of her brother’s flat and found herself now just walking blocks away down from her own. She could have immediately ended up back home, but honestly, she could use the walk.

After all, she found she really did need just a bit of time to herself... to think... Maybe it was the couple shots she took before heading to Junior’s place or the leftover anger resonating from half an hour ago. But Danica finally accepted to herself that she was hurt. She was upset. She was angry - and it might not have been mature of her, but she damn well wanted her sister to feel the same.

Not sure how one and one finally clicked inside that demented mind of hers, but Danica had come to one conclusion that night.