half heaven; half hell

—- Victoire took a deep breath, it seemed that Isla hadn’t changed much over the years. She thanked the barista when both their drinks were made and carried them over to their table and them down. She slipped out of her coat, draped it over her chair, and took a seat. “As I said, it’s well. I only just got back from Paris. Fashion week is still my favourite holiday.”

“Oh, fashion week. I also love fashion week. It’s so exciting to visualise my future wardrobe.” She lifted her drink to her mouth and took a small sip, letting the vanilla flavor sink into her, warming her from the inside out. “What brings you back, then? Just wanted to be close to family?”

“alright,” albus says, but the lilt to his voice and the disbelieving sparkle in his eyes say otherwise. “you are a very complicated woman. not at all the thing i took pains to avoid becoming.” he thinks about lighting another cigarette, decides against it. instead, he pushes himself up out of his lean and straightens his shoulders. “well, my valuable traits and i have translations to do. and unless you have more riveting things to say about me, i think it’s time i went home.”

She frowned, folding her arms across her chest, and leaning back against the wall. “Oh, by all means. Enjoy your solitary drinking and translations.” She pushed off the wall and took a step forward. “I’ve done enough research for myself as it is. See you around, Potter.”

The look Eliza gave her sister when she said their father was responsible would have made Salazar himself proud. They really were perfect for the house they had been sorted into. Sometimes she questioned it but in moments like this, she knew the hat had been right. “What if it’s not a prank? What if someone wants to cause trouble? I don’t want anyone hurt. Even if it is someone’s idea of a joke.” 

“Ok fine, he’s at least an adult. He can get himself home,” Isla said at her sister’s look. While she didn’t trust her father in any situation that involved a woman in her twenties or older, she was fairly certain he’d already survived far worse than this and could probably handle himself. “Why would anyone want to cause trouble? There’s no reason. Just someone with a sick sense of humour. Who’s also a dick. They exist.”

Taking a moment the survey the people around them there mostly families ushering their young ones off. Not that he blamed them. “Someone’s old man didn’t hug them enough as a kid, and now here we are.” His gaze when back upward toward the almost gaudy display. 

“Some people have such terrible senses of humour.” She shook her head, strawberry locks swishing around her shoulders. “I wonder who did it. Actually, I don’t care. It’s not going to stop me enjoying the day.”

her sudden pinkness - in embarrassment, anger, or frustration he cannot say - brings a grin to his face. gotcha, he thinks about saying. he doesn’t. “don’t i?” he replies, still grinning, still an air of superiority. “i’ve accepted myself for all that is unsavory. perhaps you should do the same for yourself. no use in pretending to be something you’re not. honesty, at least, might bring you comfort.” he looks away, then, and lets the grin fall. “of course i’m messed up. you’re hardly the first person to tell me that.”

“You don’t,” she murmured, feeling the deep frown wrinkle in her brow, one her mother had always warned her would stay forever if she frowned too much. “I don’t know why you think you would. I’m complicated.” She let out a humourless laugh. “At least you know your faults. That’s a very valuable trait.” He was driving her a little bit crazy. It was more interesting to talk with people and pick apart their flaws slowly. Owning up to his flaws hardly made for entertaining conversation.

Isla was definitely the type of person that James could get some fun out of teasing because he could already tell that it would be easy to wind her up. He wasn’t even sure why he took some sort of joy out of winding people up but here he was, anyway. “Is it? Please tell me what it’s actually worth then, I’m intrigued.” His tongue stuck between his lips as he grinned cheekily.

“I--” Isla frowned, placing a finger on a candy display absentmindedly. “I am worth...” she pouted. “At least a million galleons if not more, so my conversation is worth at least more than that.”

It was rather nostalgic being back here because he could find all the sweets he used to eat when he was a kid and all the ones he used to prank other people. Naturally the best prank ones were from his Uncle’s shop but Honeydukes had a good selection, too. “They’re fun, especially when you give them to somebody unsuspecting!” He laughed and then stuck his tongue out at her. “Speak for yourself, I’m an attention-seeking brat. Why else do you think I’m stood here talking to you? For attention.”

“I think she’ll love the rainbow pops. So fun,” Isla said with a smirk. Clearly they were not her type of candy, but any way she could make the tiniest bit of a splash at the party without looking like she meant ill will. “I think a conversation with me is worth more than attention, Potter,” she said flipping her hair over her shoulder haughtily.

“and what are your motivations behind that research?” albus presses, eyes narrowing, feeling like a fisherman who’d just gotten his first bite. “your name, etched into history immortal? the world catering to you and your wants, for once? fame for yourself, not just from your father?” he takes a long drag, finishing his cigarette. the butt drops to the ground. he crushes the tiny laming red still on it out with the sharp toe of his boot. “my ambition or lack thereof is none of your business, quite frankly.”

Isla’s cheeks flushed bright pink. Without her saying it, he had looked inside and seen her secret motivation. It made her stomach turn and her fists clench as irritation rose inside of her. “You don’t know anything about me,” she hissed, leaning closer so he could still hear her. “I do what I do to help people.” not just all of those things you said, she added privately, because that was why she had started after all. “Fine, I don’t care about your ambition. You’re clearly just messed up, Potter.”

Eliza looked over at Isla, trying to find comfort in her sister’s words. “I don’t know if this is a prank,” she said quietly. “We both know what that symbol means. Who the hell would do that? It’s in damn poor taste if it’s a joke.” She was almost trying to convince herself. “Have you seen Dad? I want to get home.” 

Dad. Isla frowned, a sudden skip in her heart making it difficult to breathe. “I’m sure Dad’s fine,” she said breezily, keeping the knot in her throat in check. “He’s a responsible guy.” -ish, she added in her head. It had nothing to do with his magical ability and more to do with his never-ending cycle of relationships. “If we go home, Lize, that means we’re scared. Are you scared of some stupid glowing green skull? There’s no dead body,” she hoped, “It’s just a prank.” She refused to let them be bullied into not enjoying the day.

   “A threat is a threat and should always be taken seriously before it escalates. If things were taken seriously from the start then we wouldn’t get to the point of no return. Heaven help us all if you were in the ministry, you’d be no help.” Jay knew the panic was never good but he also knew that lying made things worse. “This is why I could never see a future with you. You don’t know when to stop talking.”  

“Don’t know when to stop talking?” Isla asked shrilly. (It’s true but he shouldn’t say it). Anger welled up in her to mask the sudden hurt she felt. She was perfectly capable of being quiet when it was necessary. This, however, was not a necessary time in her opinion, especially now that Jay had insinuated it was. “I think you just don’t talk enough. Don’t say anything important.”

—- Victoire handed over her payment and happily placed a tip in the jar. She glanced over at Isla and shrugged, “I guess I could spare you a few minutes.”

Isla walked over to the circular table with two cushioned chairs on either side, and plopped into one of them gracefully, draping her coat across her lap. “So how’s life?” She asked too brightly.

James tried to not look too pleased with himself as his suggestion was actually accepted. If there was anything that he was good at, it was saying all of the right things until he won absolutely everyone over. Something inside of him just NEEDED everyone to like him and when he came across somebody who seemed not to, then he did everything he could to make them. He knew it wasn’t always possible and was a waste of his energy yet he tried, anyway. “I’ve never met a kid who doesn’t like a lollypop that changes colour. There’s shit that can make your tongue change colour, too.” He grinned again and actually laughed. “High maintenance is a nice way to phrase the words attention-seeking.”

Isla considered the tongue-changing candy. That could be an even more amusing present if mixed in with the rest. A simple mix up. But one that might cause even the tiniest bit of distress. “The colour changing ones sound interesting,” she said, feigning only mild interest. “I suppose those could be part of a nice gift.” She shook her head with a small smile. “You might be attention-seeking. I am high-mainenance. It’s much more respectable.”

—- Vic noted the slight changed in Isla’s demeanor. Their relationship always seemed a bit strained for reasons that were beyond Victoire’s comprehension. Everything always seemed a bit competitive between them, and when it came to things, Vic usually won. “Sounds lovely,” She replied with a nod and gave her order to the barista.

Isla followed suit, ordering her drink. “There’s an open table over there if you want to catch up.” She smiled, her smile inevitably turning into a smirk. “I’d love to hear what life’s been like for you.”

  “Oh, I forgot. They’re one of your favorite teams, huh?” Xander began walking but he made sure not to get too far away from Isla. It was an unusual friendship that he had with the sisters but he didn’t mind it. He considered them both good friends to him. Xander chuckled, “What a way to ruin a party, huh?” 

“Yes. Comes when your dad owns them. I like Portree, though, too.” She trailed after him, peering around at the people. “Not good. I was really looking forward to this celebration. And someone had to go pull a stupid prank like this. RIdiculous and uncivilized.”

“call it naivete, but i believe you want them for the wrong reasons, thus, you will never find them.” and besides - it wasn’t only about the potions. to albus it had been, would be, is about the mind. the openness to the experience, the freedom, the motive. he has no doubt she is not the kind to ever gain what he had from his research, his deep-dive into the mystery cults and their beliefs. “despite what you think of me, i am not truly mad. once was enough.” he has nearly died on many an occassion - not only in his experimenting, but in his lifestyle. he would rather leave it to the latter to kill him if it must. and ambition had been soured to him. “that power is not one to be wielded by the few to hold over the many. it is one to be savored. ambition does not serve me. it is my desire to live in invisible excitement - or have you forgotten that, too, so quickly?”

“Scientific research couldn’t possibly be the ‘wrong’ reason.” She scoffed and shook her head. “It’s for the betterment of wizardkind. I would be doing it to benefit all.” She shook her head, tucking her hair behind her ear. The nicotine was working its way through her system, sending a giddiness through her. Not enough to really affect her personality, but it made her feel just a bit looser. “You’re allowed to have ambitions and not be in the public. It’s just weird, is all.”