the space between

S Sabrina Adelaide Avery. 24. Pureblood. Secretary to the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Department. "Much madness is divinest sense."

[sabrinaavery]

Sabrina Adelaide Avery. 24. Pureblood.

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(rp blog for @morsmordrcrp)

[itsluciusmalfoy]

lucius felt comfortable sharing his critical thoughts with sabrina. they were alone in the comfort of his house and it wasn't as if the house elves or narcissa would share the information if they so much as overheard anything. he trusted in sabrina as he had for many years, a relationship that went further back than most of his closest friendships. lucius might've been bored glooming over the prophet before she came, but he wasn't anymore thanks to her bright conversation. "refreshing? perhaps we all just really tired with the same mundane, arbitrary life and it only took this one incident to flare it all up. we needed this. i just wish i knew who did it if not the dark lord himself so i can shake their hand."

he waved a hand dismissively at her reckoning. "the ministry is not very bright. a broken quidditch broom is smarter than most of the people on the wizengamot. i don't know what they think they will accomplish." there wasn't a lot to do when people were shut up in their own houses as scared as a field mouse. people shared the same mind if they believed what the government said and followed its rules without questioning anything. "well, that was exactly what i was thinking. it would be a shame if some of these businesses that are closed early saw something happen to it."

[sabrinaavery]

A quiet laugh escaped her, more genuine than most people ever had the privilege of hearing. There were very few people with whom she didn't feel the need to weigh every word before it left her lips. Lucius had long since earned that distinction. She reached for a biscuit from the tea tray without so much as asking, making herself at home in the effortless way only years of familiarity allowed.

"You're thinking too small," she observed, almost fondly. She let the biscuit rest untouched between her fingers, considering the thought as much as she was considering him. Lucius always enjoyed the spectacle; Sabrina preferred the design behind it. A shattered window was forgotten by morning. The reason people invented for it could linger for weeks.

"If a shop is to become the victim of unfortunate circumstances, then it ought to be one people can't help but talk about." Her gaze narrowed thoughtfully. "Somewhere respectable enough that everyone notices... but not so beloved that sympathy outweighs suspicion." The witch leaned back into the chair, crossing one leg over the other. "Imagine the Ministry promising safety, only for something to happen to a business in the very heart of Diagon Alley before the week is over." A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "So..." she tilted her head ever so slightly, "whose reputation shall we borrow to make the Ministry look foolish?"

[beckselwyn]

beck didn't know what he expected out of another night with the avery family. he knew what they were trying to do, but it was like trying to move a stubborn rock; beck made his decision five years ago and he didn't want to go through the pains of making it again. but he still found it hard to turn down a mother's offer for dinner, especially as important as the mrs. avery. there would've been a time he wouldn't feel a tight knot of anxiety and wouldn't second guess the offer as much as he was now. he knew deep in his gut that attending the dinners had an underlying meaning. he wasn't blind to that fact, but the avery family had been close to him growing up so in some extension, there was still a lot to catch up on.

when he found himself alone with sabrina and downing the last sips of his drink. beck's gaze raised towards her when she began to talk and then his hands tensed on his drink at the mention of evelyn. he had been actively trying not to let her name get in the wrong hands, but it seemed leaving together had damned that. "i didn't mean...to embarrass you, sabrina. please know that. but i also don't know what our intentions are and it wouldn't be a good idea to fold back. but you already know that too, don't you?" he released a sigh, his gaze falling towards the side. he tried to forget about the letters. none of it made sense and there wasn't a pattern; it seemed everyone received one. "nothing very foretelling in my letter. someone wanted to remind me who my parents really were. lucky for them, i think about that every day and don't need the detailed reminder. what did yours say?"

[sabrinaavery]

A quiet scoff escaped her. "Embarrassed?" Sabrina repeated, one brow lifting. "No." She regarded him for a moment, fingers idly turning her glass where it rested in her hands. "I was annoyed," and there was a difference, which she trusted him to hear it. "You invited me there. Then you disappeared," she said with a slight tilt of her head. "Courtesy has never been your strongest quality, though I imagine we've established that by now." The reminder hung between them without needing to be named. The owl. The broken engagement. Now Evelyn.

"As for... whatever this is." Her gaze drifted briefly toward the dying fire before returning to him. "I think we're simply allowing the past to bleed into the present every now and then." Her expression softened, if only by a fraction. "I'm not immune to it. You're familiar. Attractive." The corner of her mouth twitched faintly. "I've considered making the mistake." A beat. "But that's all it would be," she finally decided, giving him a small shrug. "The past remains the past. We shouldn't confuse physical instinct with something it isn't."

She leaned back into her chair, allowing for silence to stretch between them before speaking again, the topic different, her gaze intent on his now. "My letter was different. It wasn't particularly upsetting." If anything, she sounded thoughtful. "It felt... deliberate." A slow smile appeared then, not warm, but intrigued. "Whoever orchestrated those letters wasn't trying to expose us." Her fingers tapped once against the side of her glass. "They were provoking us, pushing and waiting to see what each of us would do after reading a single sentence." Her eyes met Beck's again. "I've spent years studying how people react when someone presses the right nerve, I suppose it's only fair that someone has finally decided to try it on me."

[cissaxmalfcy]

It had been a pleasant change from all of the whispering that had been helped into the world after the gala. The invite from Sabrina to have some tea at Madam Puddifoot's. It wasn't her preferred location but it was nice to be out of the house to start with.

When Narcissa walked into the place, it wasn't hard to find her friend. A smile formed on her lips at the sight of the other woman. "You and I both know that you are probably the one who has crossed the lines when it comes to the curfew. So I'm sure that we would be able to see each other outside of all of the letters," the blonde pointed out with a chuckle to her friend. She sat down on the other end of the table, looking at the tea that was already in front of them.

Narcissa watched as magic came into motion and the teapot poured two cups of tea for the both of them. "I'm alright. My letter wasn't that shocking, but yes... I did receive one. The letter didn't tell me anything I didn't know already."

The blonde brought the cup to her lips so she could carefully take a sip. "We can speak about what your letter said. But we can also try and ignore it for a bit and talk about the gala before it turned sour? Because I do have something to ask you about it."

[sabrinaavery]

Sabrina's lips curved into the faintest smile over the rim of her teacup. "I'm glad." It was genuine. Whatever else had come from that evening, she was relieved Narcissa had emerged from it largely unscathed. "Mine wasn't particularly revealing either. Whoever wrote them seemed far more interested in unsettling people than informing them."

The witch let the thought drift away with another sip of tea before looking back at her friend, amusement flickering across her features. She knew that look. Narcissa was far too observant to have invited the subject so casually. "Oh?" Sabrina tilted her head ever so slightly, the picture of innocence. "And what, exactly, from the gala has piqued your curiosity so much, Cissa?"

[anyafawleyburke]

"Sabrina!" Anya threw her arms around her friend once the doors of the Manor closed. "I'm so glad you're here." She rubbed a hand across her forehead in a gesture of frustration. "I rather thought I was done with reporters camping out at the gates," she joked weakly, remembering the days after Thoros's death, when it seemed like all of wizarding Britain had descended upon the Manor.

"I'm..." She trailed off and thought for a moment. "I'm exhausted," she admitted. "The Aurors were here until early this morning."

[sabrinaavery]

Sabrina was deeply protective of those she cared about, and Anya was one of her closest friends. That meant that neither the gala hijacking or this reporter nightmare and interrogation that followed were things she could abide for. She was upset, mostly because she still hadn't managed to read between the lines, get to the bottom of the mystery herself. She was upset, because those she cared about were being treated poorly. "I'm so sorry, love," she told her friend with a firm shake of her head. "They have no reason whatsoever to be questioning you of all people, if anything you're the victim here. It was your gala, your moment that was stolen," the witch punctuated her words. "What do you need? Tell me and I shall make sure you have it all."

[the-heir-apparent]

Barty was well aware of his father's increasingly erratic mood as more and more time passed with the Minister still missing. Like always, Barty had become a prime target for the man's growing frustration and paranoia. They didn't get many visitors in this department of the Ministry; most inquiries arrived via owl, or as orders handed down from high up.

To say he disliked his job was a massive understatement. He didn't even want to work in the Ministry—especially not this low down the ladder. No, he was much too bright for that. You would think being the Head of Magical Law Enforcement's only son would secure you a nice spot on the corporate ladder. But nepotism requires your parent to actually be able to look you in the eyes. So alas, he was stuck here, pretending to read letters that he was just going to dump on his coworker's desk at lunch.

The skin around his eyes tightened as Sabrina walked in. Dear God, let her not have news...

“Remind me, dear, what is it you lot do here?”

Barty straightened up, letting a small, practiced smile tug at his lips. "Paperwork," he groaned, "and occasionally some on-the-job drinks." He paused for a moment, lounging back in the spinny chair. It was still creaking from the joyride around the office he had embarked on just a minute before she entered. "You're not a mandatory reporter, are you?"

[sabrinaavery]

The corner of Sabrina's mouth threatened a smile. Humor and deflection, she was beginning to think it was his favorite language. Her gaze wandered briefly around the office instead, taking in the scattered parchment, the overflowing desks and the chair still lazily spinning from whatever had entertained him before she'd arrived. It felt like an odd corner of the Ministry for someone like Bartemius Crouch Jr. to end up in. Then again, perhaps that was precisely the point.

"I'm relieved," she said at last, her tone light. "For a moment, I feared I'd interrupted something terribly important." The witch took another step inside, the folder tucked neatly beneath one arm, studying him rather than the office.

"I don't believe your father would appreciate me reporting your... workplace habits." A slight tilt of her head. "Though I imagine he'd be far more disappointed to hear you actually enjoy yourself here." The words were teasing enough, but her eyes lingered on him a moment longer, quietly searching for whichever version of Barty chose to answer her today.

[nathanielflint]

where : the fountain of fair fortune

who: open to anyone.

As a result of the ministry mandated curfew, everybody seemed keen to pack as much in within their social hours as possible resulting in every restaurant and shop being immensely busy. What had started off as quite a pleasant trip to Diagon Alley had gotten progressively more chaotic as people barged into stores, and nudged in front to look at items. Actions which normally would infuriate Nathaniel were rolling off him with ease, in fact, the young man was feeling quite chipper.

Not even the notice that his reservation at The Fountain of Fair Fortune had been double-booked seemed to shake him. Nate peered at the person in front of him over the menu. "I don't mind sharing a table with you," He responded, quirking an eyebrow. "but I do hope you have interesting news to bring to the table."

[sabrinaavery]

"Oh, darling, you know better than to assume this was just a mistake," Sabrina told her friend matter-of-factly, waving a hand around to the seating arrangement of the overly crowded place. She'd got there a couple of minutes before her reserve, only to find that plenty of tables had been overbooked, something that should be unacceptable. However, the curfew had everyone acting as though certain things should, instead, simply be accepted. "You were going to be seated across who knows what kind of dreadful person had I not intervened," the witch explained as she took a copy of the menu and began reading herself. "Every damn table was double booked, I just took it upon myself to request at least being seated with someone I'd enjoy sharing a meal with, and who'd certainly benefit from the change as well." The smile on her lips was a satisfied one, Sabrina didn't let things happen to her without her saying on it. "So, say thanks and do tell me how you've been, love. I haven't seen you since the gala."

[unendinggloriousloyalty]

The meeting ended abruptly, to Antonin’s dismay. He always longed to be in the presence of his lordship, and so these sudden endings always left him feeling energized with a sense of purpose, yet disappointed at his time being cut short. So much inspiration, yet nowhere to channel it. The dour, almost musty atmosphere greeted him as he left the back room with his brothers and sisters in arms. At the sound of his name being spoken in a tone he found intriguing.

“Avery.”

Dangerous and effective, clever and intuitive. Sabrina Avery was a useful addition to the Dark Lord’s forces, and Antonin always admired skilled individuals. She had the calm, collected confidence that Antonin found lacking in his own rather brutal methods.

“мой друг (my friend), you know me too well. I do not like to be sent home early.” He nodded to her, giving her a small smile and sensing a kindred, restless spirit in her as well. “Do you know of anything better?”

[sabrinaavery]

The witch kept his gaze intent on him, as if their surroundings were nothing more than nuisances, better forgotten. She still hadn't quite figured him out, it wasn't as though they'd talked much, but observing a person could tell you almost enough if you were paying attention-- Sabrina always was.

"Careful there, love, there's a curfew in place. We're supposed to be heading home and only there," she told him firmly, though she let a dangerous smile dance along her lips, almost a hungry one. "But things have been awfully quiet, haven't they? As if we're missing a bit of magic," the brunette let the words linger on the space between them, raising her glass towards him before taking a sip. "Up for trouble, darling?"

[miabonesx]

where: diagon alley, outside the leaky cauldron status: open to all!

by the time amelia bones had packed her things and left the ministry, the curfew was just around the corner, and warning bells were beginning to sound in her head. shopkeepers had closed up for the night, hurrying lingering customers toward the street. diagon alley was smothered by a nervous energy – people moved quickly, heads down, voices low. no one wanted to be caught outside, it seemed. no one wanted to be questioned.

amelia, unfortunately, had spent all day questioning other people. she had been in an interrogation room since the morning, and now, was in desperate need of a strong drink before heading home. she had time for one drink. probably.

she glanced down the darkening street, then back at the warm light spilling from the leaky cauldron's windows. just one drink – for medicinal purposes. she had just reached the door when someone moved nearby, close enough to catch her attention. amelia paused, hand still hovering over the handle, and looked over.

"if you're about to tell me i don't have time," she said, dryly, "don't."

[sabrinaavery]

Sabrina wasn't about to tell anyone what they ought or not to do, especially given the context. She was simply out to watch people, keep a close eye on every single person out there for whatever might be going on, she still had questions of her own. These questions had little to do with the curfew or where the Minister was hiding or being held-- instead, she was more interested on getting answers regarding the mysterious letters.

The witch raised her brows, almost imperceptibly so, and offered a smile-- soft and polite, a stark contrast to the other's sharper tone. "Bad day at the office, Bones?" She asked, keeping things almost professional.

[itsluciusmalfoy]

lucius had been in the sitting room, reading over his letters and notes, since he finally managed the time. there was a lot to be done and already people were mumbling about what could have possibly happened to the minister. lucius hoped that it was inspired by the dark lord, commissioning all of the tension and worry only to pluck the minister in public. it was genius if it were true. there hadn't been this much tension since the beginning of the war before death became a shared word between everyone and was too normalized. lucius enjoyed seeing everyone scatter and panic, it was the kind of torture done without lifting a finger. but he hated how much inconvenience it caused. due to businesses closing early, no one wanted to discuss work after their set hours. lucius thought the people were spineless and lazy if they shortened their work just because the law told them.

he raised his eyes when sabrina was led into the room. she was most likely one of the few people who could walk into malfoy manor without a social hour set and no one would be upset. he was relieved that narcissa liked sabrina as much as he did. "ah, yes. here i thought it would be narcissa's estranged sister who would unsettle the room. leave it to a higher power to do it better." lucius folded the prophet and shoved it away from his attention. "theories? well, clearly the dark lord did this, didn't he? i think the minister is many things: a coward, a cheat, poor. but he doesn't ever drink heavily enough to stumble out by himself. the poor man hopefully apparated out of the country and abandoned ship. if not, i hope that the dark lord is behind it and will tell us what to do next. though i'm not holding my breath. please," he said and gestured for her to sit, snapping his fingers for his house elf to arrange a tea tray. "you came all this way to discuss conspiracies? how bored are you?"

[sabrinaavery]

A quiet hum escaped her, the corner of her mouth lifting in reluctant concession. Lucius knew her well enough to recognize when she was deflecting. “Perhaps I am,” she admitted, settling comfortably into the armchair as though she’d occupied it a hundred times before. “The gala reminded me how quickly everything can change. One anonymous letter, a room full of influential witches and wizards, and suddenly everyone was questioning the person beside them. It was…” Sabrina paused, searching for the right word before giving a small shrug. “…refreshing.” Not because of the panic itself, but because it had broken the monotony. The war had settled into a predictable rhythm over the past few years, tragedy becoming so commonplace that even the Prophet struggled to make it feel remarkable anymore. Then, in the span of a single evening, someone had managed to make the entire country pay attention again.

“And the Ministry’s answer is to tell everyone to stay home and behave.” She accepted the teacup from the house-elf with a quiet word of thanks, absently stirring it despite having added nothing at all. “It feels terribly… unimaginative.” Her gaze returned to Lucius over the rim of the porcelain, a familiar glimmer of mischief softening her otherwise composed expression. “I’ve never been particularly fond of waiting for someone else to decide when life becomes interesting again.” A beat passed before the brunette’s smile widened just enough to be dangerous. “Perhaps we ought to create a little amusement of our own.”

[sabrinaavery]

where: ministry of magic who: @the-heir-apparent

Her boss was frantic, growing more demanding and filled with desperation as the clock struck another hour without the Minister appearing. While she smiled and completed her tasks flawlessly, Sabrina didn’t like to be bossed around unless it served her own purposes, and so far it seemed hers and her boss’ didn’t quite align. She’d been sent off to fetch some documents from the Portkey office, a sector she didn’t fancy visiting much within Ministry’s wall. Yet, she knew why she’d been sent over— it was rare, if ever, that her boss would dare visit the offices where his son worked at.

The brunette spotted Barty the moment she walked in, leaning casually against the wall, as if she wasn’t there to simply run an errand. “Remind me, dear, what is you lot do here?” She wondered, raising a brow before adding simply. “I’m not here for you, worry not.”

[sabrinaavery]

where: madam puddifoot’s tea shop who: @cissaxmalfcy

The last few days had left an unpleasant taste in everyone's mouth. The Burke Gala had been meant to celebrate, yet somehow it had become the beginning of whispered conversations, unanswered questions, and a Ministry scrambling to look as though it still had everything under control.

If there was one person she wished to hear from before the rumours swallowed everything whole, it was Narcissa.

Madam Puddifoot's was quieter than usual, which was a welcome change. Sabrina had already claimed a table by the window, a pot of tea waiting between delicate porcelain cups by the time the blonde arrived, a genuine smile softening her features as she rose to greet her friend with a kiss to each cheek.

"I was beginning to think we'd only be allowed to see each other through owl post." She settled back into her chair with a light sigh, fingers idly tracing the rim of her teacup. "Tell me you're alright, Cissa." Her gaze lingered for a brief moment before adding, more quietly, "You received one too... didn't you? A letter?"

[sabrinaavery]

where: malfoy manor who: @itsluciusmalfoy

The Ministry's answer to a missing Minister had been to lock everyone inside before nightfall. Predictable.

Sabrina had spent the better part of the morning reading every edition of the Daily Prophet she could get her hands on, only to find page after page filled with speculation instead of substance. Curfews, tighter security, reassurances that sounded convincing only if one chose not to think too hard about them. Whoever had orchestrated the letters at the Burke Gala had managed to unsettle half of wizarding Britain in a single evening, and yet those supposedly in charge seemed determined to treat the symptoms rather than the disease. If anyone shared her irritation, it would be Lucius.

It was why she found herself at Malfoy Manor that afternoon, announced by the house-elf before being shown into one of the sitting rooms as though she scarcely needed an invitation anymore. Familiarity had long since replaced formality between them.

"Someone managed to embarrass the Ministry and unsettle half the room in a single evening." She arched a brow. "I'm far more interested in how they managed it than in being told to stay home." A small smile followed as she settled into the chair opposite him. "I came because I was growing tired of reading other people's theories, and yours darling, tend to be better."

[sabrinaavery]

where: avery manor who: @beckselwyn

Dinner had been every bit as uncomfortable as Sabrina had expected. Her mother's efforts hadn't been subtle in the slightest, orchestrating another evening where coincidence had little to do with Beck Selwyn finding himself seated across from her. It was exhausting, really, watching everyone else pretend they weren't trying to stitch together something that had long since unraveled.

She waited until the drawing room had emptied, until her parents had retired with promises of tea they had no intention of drinking, leaving the two of them with little more than the crackling fireplace and the silence neither seemed particularly eager to break. "You know," the witch began at last, smoothing an invisible crease from her sleeve before lifting her gaze to him, "I spent a good portion of the Burke Gala wondering whether you'd been murdered." A beat. "Then I saw you'd simply left with Evelyn Fawley." Her expression remained perfectly even, offering no satisfaction to anyone hoping to find jealousy there.

She let the words settle before continuing, her voice as measured as ever. "I'm not asking for explanations, Beck. We forfeited that privilege some time ago." A faint tilt of her head. "But if you're going to ask me to stand beside you in public —whether that's because my parents insist or because it happens to suit you that evening— I would appreciate knowing whether I should expect to leave with the person I arrived with. And before you mistake this for wounded pride..." Her eyes held his steadily. "It isn't. I'm simply trying to determine whether I should waste any more energy entertaining whatever it is we're doing."

The corner of her mouth curved ever so slightly, though there was little warmth in it. "Besides..." she added, almost thoughtfully, "we never did discuss those letters we all got. I find myself considerably more interested in the person sending them than in whatever spectacle the Gala became." Sabrina studied him for a moment, weighing every flicker of expression with practiced ease. "So, which conversation would you rather have?"

[sabrinaavery]

who: @unendinggloriousloyalty where: the hog's head

The meeting had ended almost as soon as it had begun. Brief enough to leave more questions than answers, as though the Dark Lord himself had chosen to keep his thoughts close— for now, at least. The Hog's Head emptied quickly as curfew loomed less than an hour away, and most seemed eager to disappear before then. Sabrina, however, lingered. Patience had always served her better than haste, and something told her the evening still had something to offer.

Her attention settled on the towering figure of Antonin Dolohov. They'd exchanged little more than passing words over the years, yet she'd watched enough to know the sort of man he was, or perhaps, the sort she believed him to be. Reliable. Dangerous. Uncomplicated. A spark of curiosity ignited within her as she she crossed the room until she came to a stop beside him. "Dolohov," she greeted evenly, glass in hand and the hint of a smile touching her lips. "You don't strike me as someone who enjoys being sent home early."

[misscarrow]

She couldn't breathe, and it felt as if the house was shrinking on her. People were talking so loudly, it was making her head hurt. Alecto tried to focus on Sabrina, who looked as beautiful as ever. Her resolve brought Alecto a brief moment of clarity. "Thank you" she said weakly, allowing the brunette to guide her out of this place.

"I... I don't want to stain your dress" she murmured, her hands may look clean, but they were bloody, tainted. She could see the non-existent droplets falling to the polished floor as they walked out of there. A part of her was relieved that it wasn't Amycus the one carrying her out, he looked just like their father and that would've made things worse.

Alecto tried to focus, but it was too hard, there were so many things happening around her. Normally these events happened in the privacy of her home and Mindy, the house elf, would help her calm down. She had trashed the living room more than once, and burnt portraits. There were no more ugly vases to break or books to rip to shreds.

"I... I need air..." she spoke, rubbing her chest with her hand, spreading the invisible blood across her exposed skin.

[sabrinaavery]

Sabrina said nothing. There was no point questioning words that clearly weren't meant for her, nor correcting things only Alecto seemed able to see. Instead, her grip remained steady against the other witch's arm as she guided her through the crowd with quiet determination, her posture composed enough that anyone looking their way might mistake the scene for nothing more than one guest escorting another outside for a breath of fresh air. "You won't," she answered simply, glancing only briefly toward Alecto's hands before looking ahead again. Whatever she believed she was carrying, the brunette wasn't about to argue with it now.

The cool evening air met them the moment she pushed open the doors. Only then did she slow, leading the other witch away from the entrance and toward a quieter stretch of the gardens, somewhere hidden from curious eyes and wagging tongues. "There," she said, her hand lingering for just a moment before she let it fall away, leaving her enough space to breathe without abandoning her altogether.

"Take your time," she spoke, dark eyes settling on her, searching her face with careful concern, though she herself remained outwardly composed. "I'm not going anywhere." Whether this was duty to someone she had once loved as a friend or compassion offered to a stranger in distress, Sabrina couldn't have said and perhaps the distinction no longer mattered. Whatever had happened between them at Hogwarts, she refused to let Alecto Carrow fall apart in front of an audience.

[anyafawleyburke]

The gala had ended in such horror that Anya had swooned onto a chaise in one of Burke Manor’s drawing rooms. The sickly green glare of the Mark in the sky made her nauseous, and the disappearance of the Minister hadn’t helped matters. By the next morning, the Prophet was awash in details of the gala, but it had not proven to be the glamorous re-entry into society that she had hoped. Now the press were waiting outside the gates of the estate as if the Minister would suddenly stride through them, no worse for wear.

So when someone knocked on the massive doors to the Manor, Anya strode briskly to answer then herself, rather than ask an elf to do it, as was customary. She wrenched the doors open and fixed the person standing outside with an imperious stare.

“Yes?” She asked. “How can I help you?”

[sabrinaavery]

She wouldn't have come back to the setting of last night events if it had not been for her friend. Things had ended in an unusual turn, one that left her wondering who was --or were-- behind all of it. The witch had turned it all over in her head, down to the last detail, she needed to know, she was trained to see beyond the superficial facts and she would, eventually.

Still, however much other people would list her off as frivolous, Sabrina did care for her friends, hence why she'd decided to pay Anya a visit that day. It was supposed to be her night, initially but partly highjacked by the Ministry in an attempt to pretend unity existed in their society, but then completely run over by someone who cared very little about the blonde indeed.

"Hi darling," the brunette offered softly, gesturing for them both to go inside before the prying eyes of so called reporters and damned aurors would try and catch any bit of their conversation. "How are you holding up? It was an awful thing to do, you didn't deserve such a spoil to your evening."