#rsrevan

There had always been something about the library that felt like home. The high shelves and the stacks upon stacks of books that were piling up in areas used more often as well as the rays of sunshine during the day and coziness of a crackling fire within the darker and colder nights, it all had come to be something Leta Rosier treasured rather a lot. Now, she loved her atelier, but something about the hall of knowledge within the manor left to them – no, to her brother, by their parents, it held her attention and kept her focused. It was home, if a room could be that.

Each word had hit her like a slap to the face. Even minutes after he'd left they still echoed in her ears, in her mind. There was anger and frustration. Wasn't she allowed to be human? To desire anything? No, even when she dared to care about something, or someone, the witch had to end up sharing it. A test, if that was what he wanted it to be, the blonde wasn't all too sure what to make of it. For a moment she stood, unsure if the stares she felt were truly there or simply figments of her imagination. The embarrassment hit deep, not that she cared to admit it. Finally, her feet moved, carried her through the event area until finally Leta had spotted a face that didn't make her want to hide.

A day that had started out within the atelier and yet ended with her out all day, the witch had been rushing about to sort some matters that simply couldn't wait. Coming home to be informed by one of the elves that her brother was home, for once a convenient timing, the blonde couldn't help herself but look for him. When she finally spotted the other, a smirk on her lips she made her way into the library with nonchalance.

Days could be long and drawn out, could last until the late hours of the night if one wasn’t careful. Despite all that Leta had come to love her work at Madam Malkin, enjoyed having a say in what various of their social circles would wear. In fact, the mere idea of the control hidden within each thread, each square of elegant fabric; there was far too much joy in that. For the last ten minutes she’d been searching the manor for her brother, wondered just where he’d hidden himself away when finally, she got lucky in the library. A cough, her presence announced as she made her way over to him. Delicate fingers placed a box down. “There you are. Are you hiding or is this entirely coincidental?” Leta pushed the box toward him; the suit she’d promised to finish. Certainly, one of the nicer pieces she’d designed in his name.

Few nights were spent walking down the path of Knockturn Alley. Even fewer within the White Wyvern. Beatrice lacked not in access to taverns and pubs. Not with her sister practically owning the Three Broomsticks as well as her being on good terms with Tom from the Leaky Cauldron. No, it was darker nights that called for the so-called walk of shame toward the tavern usually frequented by the darkest of characters. The Gryffindor did not fit in, not for the most part, but it was the best place one could go if one simply needed to forget; to get distracted from the daily shenanigans that life had a habit of throwing one’s way. Funny enough it was also the one place where, in her experience, the least talk of the war raging on in the world could be heard. It seemed almost too perfect to be true and yet its very existence was proof of just that. There was a place equivalent to the forgetfulness draught found in certain potioneer’s shops.

Beatrice found herself a cozy spot by the bar, if one did dare call it that in a place like the White Wyvern. No time was wasted as she ordered whatever strongest drink the bartender had to offer. Her mind was racing with thoughts of the previous night, the early morning hours filled with regret. There was too much she needed to forget; the leave behind, to be buried underneath layers upon layers of potentially bad decisions. Bea was no saint. Had never claimed to be but this had hit her harder than she cared to admit. Eventually she’d find someone to confide in but until then she’d rather avoid the whole thing all together.