(False) Bravado

Rita and Harper had a good working relationship. The elder of the two had been a valuable Transfiguration tutor to the younger in their school days, allowing her to keep her place as top of their class and answering all of her burning questions (often questions which would help her in the process of becoming an Animagus, though she was sure Harper didn’t know that). Somewhat in her debt, Rita now kept her abreast of all rumours surrounding her and her business, occasionally showing up at the hotel bar for several glasses of rum and a debrief, which always inevitably led to them discussing other peoples’ gossip while Rita probed for information on any important guests.

To greet her in daylight was somewhat odd, seeing her in the stark light of day rather than in a dimly lit room through a haze of alcohol, but Rita was always happy to see a friendly face, particularly first thing in the morning. She nodded as she took a sip of her coffee, eyes on a shopkeeper stood opposite them puffing on a cigarette as she answered.

“Actually everyone’s seemingly been on their best behaviour recently, it’s been making my job quite hard. Probably something to do with everyone wanting an easy summer. But you know me, I can always find something to write about.” She turned her gaze to Harper and raised her eyebrows, offering a knowing smile. “How’s the hotel business? Any big events lined up for me to sneak into so I can keep my career going?”

-

From gossiping between Transfiguration tutoring sessions and during common room hangouts at Hogwarts, to cocktails and chit-chat at hotel bars, Harper and Rita had spent a fair amount of time together through the years. Harper liked the younger woman. Back during their school days  she told herself that she wouldn’t have spent all that time and energy tutoring her if she didn’t. But while there might have initially been other motivating factors for Harper, she found herself looking forward to their time spent together. She still did, perhaps even more so now that they had entered the “real” world.

Harper subtly followed Rita’s gaze to the nearby shopkeeper, before flicking her eyes down to her drink and taking another sip.

“An easy summer” Harper chuckled to herself, knowing that no matter how she wished otherwise, the phrase seemed like it would always be an oxymoron for her. “But for sure, Rita, you could write your way out of just about anything. Or into it, for that matter.”

She mentally ran through the catalogue in her head of upcoming events at the various hotels and venues, tilting her head in thought and reveling in the feeling of the sun on her face.

“Hmmm, well speaking of… There are a handful of weddings coming up, but no big or notable names. A charity gala you’re welcome to crash, a few conferences where you can try and charm some gossip out of sleazy businessmen. Those are most of the local ones. With mid-to-late summer holidays, and especially the Quidditch World Cup coming up, I’m not incredibly surprised it’s a calmer month.”

Harper paused and smirked, “Well, aside from the weddings; those are always affairs where everyone is high strung, that is until the drinks start flowing.”

It was always a relief to Safiye to feel known by Harper, even if not fully. She spent so much of her time reflecting back what people expected of her, fighting to live up to high expectations, none higher than her own. So much of her life was a high wire act, it was nice to sit with Harper and just be, and know that Harper saw her, even if she didn’t understand it all.

“I’ll make room whenever you want me, just let me know.” It was not a promise Safiye made lightly. On any given day she had to contend with her mother’s plans for her, any commitments she might have to the Order, and carving out some quiet time for herself, and this rarely left room for impromptu plans.But you made sacrifices for your closest friends, and Safiye was well used to sacrificing for far less.

Safiye hummed in agreement with what Harper was saying, She herself was never able to escape the nagging feeling of lack. Like there was something more out there, something that was waiting for her. It was part of what had driven her to join the Order, and what kept her there, despite being generally unwelcome. Still, even her nighttime vigilante work wasn’t enough. She still felt, as Harper put it, stalled.

She chuckled at Harper’s question. Knowing it was all in good fun she still considered it seriously. “Well, five years after a horrible tragedy is probably around when you would meet him. He’d be utterly inappropriate at first. Either too poor, or too rich, and probably rude, but there would be an unspoken attraction neither of you could deny.” Safiye broke off her faux serious monologue to giggle, then picked back up. “You are the perfect romantic heroine, though. Serious and dedicated, but secretly longing for more.”

-

“I appreciate that Saf” Harper said, knowing that her friend having an open day was a rarity (and not just because she preferred to have most things scheduled).

But when Safiye starting putting thought into answering the question Harper asked— mostly jokingly— she was intrigued. Her chin rested in her hands and her drink sat unsipped as she listened intently. But she gave a scowl with no malice behind it at ‘probably rude, but there would be an unspoken attraction neither of you could deny’

“I cannot for the life of me decide whether I love that or hate that idea. Undeniable chemistry? Sign me up. But having to deal with someone rude first…. Well,” she considered, tilting her head, “I suppose it would depend on what type of rude they are.” Harper’s giggles joined Saf’s. She couldn’t imagine talking to anyone else like this, being able to know without explaining exactly what she meant by different types of rudeness (and there were plenty).

But when Safiye continued her monologue, she yet again had Harper’s rapt attention. Harper couldn’t help but feel touched and seen, but the logical part of her brain scolded her and kept her skeptical. “Me? The perfect romantic heroine? With my bizarre hours, contradictory personality and… affection for alcohol.” She took a big sip as if to punctuate the sentiment. “But you? Growing up full of glamor and beauty; invitations to balls and charity events; getting a taste of freedom and losing it; and the most important requirement— being a hopeless romantic,” Harper over-emphasized those last words before dissolving back into giggles.

“Seriously though, I know I tease you about it, but I think it’s amazing that you’re in touch with that side of yourself and what you want. It’s a good thing… Even if it does give me some of my favorite fodder against you” Harper said, sticking out her tongue.

Ava grinned as she took her newly made drink, lifting it up to take a sip to test it out. Not that she was ever picky, and it turned out that being friends with the owner resulted in getting the good stuff. “Thank you kindly,” she told Harper. “Well, now that you’ve been good and worked all day, you most definitely deserve some well-earned fun. I’m happy you chose this path; I was starting to worry I’d have to spend my evening alone.”

Not that Ava was ever stuck alone unless she wanted to be. There were always someone to talk to, someone to drink with. But the bar had seemed boringly tame until Harper had walked in. It was much more fun to party with a drinking buddy than to nod politely as some suit talked about his business. 

“I’ve just been here a little while. Helped a friend of mine meet a bloke. Some blind-date she’d been put up on, wanted some courage – liquid and otherwise,” she explained, taking another sip. Ava looked up at Harper, giving her a friendly grin. “So far it’s been pretty uneventful; no drinks tossed or anyone stripping. But the night is still young! There’s a group of three girls in the corner that’s just ordered their second round of martinis since I got here. If I’d bet on any excitement happening, I’d reckon they are a good choice.” 

-

“Alone? You? Never… At least, not for long” Harper laughed with Ava, “Although Mr. Suit over there seemed like he was enjoying a semi-captive audience to talk about himself to. That’s really sweet of you to accompany your friend, though. Blind dates can be… well…” She gave a little shudder and punctuated the sentence with a sip of her drink. Not that she’d actually gone on a blind date— any sort of date, actually— in quite some time, but the sentiment was the same regardless.

Harper listened as Ava told her about the group of girls in the corner. She appreciated that the younger woman was also the type to pick up on that sort of thing. Casually glancing over at them, Harper guessed that they were around her age, give or take a couple years, but she didn’t recognize them at first glance. Hmm,” she started, the corner of her mouth turning up into a half smirk, “What do you think they’re on about? Post-breakup cheer up? Birthday? Just a girl’s night out?” While she wasn’t keen on being involved in drama, herself, Harper loved to hear the gossip (or at least speculate), even if it was about random bar-goers she’d never see again.

The dragging day of working alone must have really put her in a state tonight, because after taking a long sip of her drink, she wondered aloud to Ava, “Do we want to find out?”

date: 2nd august, 1978 time: 7am location: diagon alley OPEN

Rita did not consider herself to be an early bird or a night owl. She found labels of all kinds to be unnecessary and extremely limiting (heterosexual, gossip columnist, Muggleborn), and these were no exception. Not only that, but neither really applied to her, being one of those freakish souls who could survive on astonishingly little sleep; falling into her bed at 2am after a long night of writing and bouncing out of bed again at 5:30am so that she could be one of the first in the office.

That being said, there was something about mornings that she found incredibly energising - the possibilities, the blank slate. Living on Diagon Alley certainly helped, her curiosity always propelling her out of her flat to watch all the shops open, their wares for the day displayed outside or in the windows. Her pace would slow as she passed the market stalls, eyes scanning to see if there was anything worth buying or writing about (there never was) as she sipped a coffee bought along the way.

It was a warm morning already, and Rita happily sat on a bench in the sun, soaking it up as much as she could ahead of her long day in a room where sunlight was often obscured by cigarette smoke and many enormous male egos. Her eyes had closed in contentment for a moment, only for a shadow to fall across her face seconds later and cause her to open them again, expression confused until she registered who it was.

“Oh, it’s you. I wasn’t expecting to see you until later.”

-

Harper’s schedule could easily vary from one day to the next. A perk of more or less being your own boss, she supposed, though she was acutely aware that her situation was much more complex than that. Usually when it started this early, though, she tended to opt for either apparating or she had stayed over at whichever hotel she had to be at the night before. But this morning she had just risen extra early; it seemed like it was shaping up to be a warm, beautiful August day, and Harper knew that the fresh air would be good for her.

She stopped to grab an iced coffee on her way from her flat to the hotel, a light breeze on her back as she strolled. Slowing down as she walked passed some benches, scanning for any familiar faces, Harper caught the glimpse of a face and some blonde hair that she surely recognized as Rita.

Sitting down next to her, she gave a small smile to the younger woman. “I know” she nodded, “usually we run into each other around lunch time or later in the day. But you’ve gotta change it up sometimes, as I’m sure you know” Harper swirled her cup around in her hands before taking a sip through the straw. “How’s work going?” she continued, “The hustle and bustle of the Prophet keeping you on your toes?”

Lily watched Harper introduce herself to the various cats, and it reminded Lily of when she’d first gotten Chess. At barely 11, Lily had taken the whole affair very seriously. She’d visited the local shelter several times looking for, as she put it, her cat. It had been difficult, there had been several animals who tempted her, tiny sweet kittens and stately older cats, but none of them had felt just right. She still remembered the day she’d met Chess. He’d been a newborn kitten, mewling with his eyes still closed. Abandoned by his mother, the shelter’s owner had said, he’d need someone special to take care of him, and Lily had just known. Of course, now she knew that she’d gotten lucky, that Chess had grown up into the perfect cat for her, but she still believed in that knowing.

While Harper was talking to the shopkeeper, Lily looked over the cats Harper had already checked out. The “highly energetic though a little possessive” tag made her chuckle, because it reminded her of Chess. The tabby with white paws was a handsome fellow, but Lily wasn’t surprised Harper had passed on “calm and independent.” She couldn’t keep herself from attempting to get his attention, holding out her hand and clicking her tongue. She prided herself on being something of a cat whisperer, and after a few moments he rewarded her with a cursory sniff of her hand. She scratched his chin and then left him be. Her hopes rose as Harper seemed to connect with a small grey cat, only to be dashed by the shopkeeper’s words.

Lily would never consider herself someone who was good at reading people, but she was. More accurately, she had a sort of instinctive understanding of people’s emotional needs, so when Harper walked away, Lily didn’t follow. She gave the woman a few moments to collect herself and waited patiently for her to return. While she was waiting, Lily checked the labels of the other cats to see if there was another one similar to the small grey cat in personality. When Harper came back, Lily smiled encouragingly. “So we know now that you want a friendly and affectionate cat, that’s a step in the right direction. I looked at a few of the labels, I think you should introduce yourself to her next.” Lily pointed to a cat with bright eyes whose label read, “sweet and clever.”

-

Standing in the midst of the cat supplies, the variety of the offerings impressed Harper; it was like there was something for each cat. That means there’s a cat for you, she told herself, but manage your expectations the voice in her head nagged.

She soon returned to Lily and the cats, ready to jump back in. She was going to find the cat that was right for her. Maybe it would be today— she hoped it would be— but she wasn’t going to force it if it didn’t feel right.

Harper tilted her head slightly at Lily; “Thank you” she replied, hoping to convey how touched she was that the young woman had continued looking while she took a moment to recompose herself. Her gaze followed Lily’s outstretched hand until she was met with beautiful blue eyes blinking back at her.

With butterflies of anticipation, she made her way towards the cage; second row from the bottom, second to last column on the right. She saw the label that Lily had indicated, “sweet and clever.”

“Hi there” Harper found herself cooing to the cat as she reached out a hand for her to sniff, “You’re such a pretty kitty!” She didn’t know much about cat breeds, but this cat appeared to be some sort of siamese-balinese type mix; fur that was mainly whitish cream colored, with bluish-grey points and tabby markings on her head, legs, and tail.

The butterflies in her stomach intensified and the voice inside her head returned. Don’t get attached, it chanted like a mantra. But as the cat sniffed and then nuzzled forehead first into her hand, Harper couldn’t help but crack a smile, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Slowly withdrawing her hand and starting to turn back to Lily, her head whipped back around when she felt a tap on her hand. Sure enough, a single paw rested on her hand, and the cat let out a cheerful meow.

Returning her hand to its position just inside the cage, Harper turned her head over her shoulder to Lily, and motioned her over with her free hand.

“I think she likes me?!” she half-asked, half-stated, voice full of cautious optimism.