Craving More

Asher had admittedly been to the bar that the drunk girl he had been texting on and off for the past several months was currently at. That being said, he couldn’t ever remember having an enjoyable time there, and had only gone there at the insistence of his mates.

Tonight the bar was particularly packed, and as he was waved through the door, he pulled his phone out to text the inebriated girl. He figured this would be easier than trying to figure out which drunk girl at the bar she was because well…there were a lot of them. Once the text was sent, Asher silently went over the plan in his head again: he’d show up, prove to her that he wasn’t her idjit of an ex, and leave. He still had work to get done.

#o; asher #ch; lydia #tw; alcohol

Driftwood was a complete dive, but it was a cheap dive and that was why it was absolutely packed with students. The bass made the entire room vibrate and Lydia could feel it in her rib cage, strong and steady. By this point, everything was rather soft around the edges and blurry where she wasn’t concentrating. Far better than being sober, in her her opinion. The neon lights which flickered and sliced above the dancefloor were brighter than a rainbow and twice as pretty, lighting up the revelers in colours you’d never see in daylight. And everyone looked so goddamn happy. Even the guy throwing up in the corner was grinning like a wolf once he’d straightened up, whopping and throwing himself back into the throng.

She felt her phone buzz in her pocket and took it out as she waited for her next drink, squinting a little so that she’d be able to focus on the suddenly over-bright screen. ASSHOLE. She frowned, feeling the bubble of anger and longing fill the pit of her stomach once more, but she pushed it away. She wanted to know what he had to say to her now. Huh. Apparently he was there, at the bar.

A sudden jolt of fear went through her muddled brain. She hadn’t thought he’d do that, especially since he’d been insisting that it wasn’t him that she’d been texting. She whipped around, scanning the crowd with difficulty. It was pretty dark, despite the flashing lights, and full, so it was difficult to see anyone, let alone a specific person. Frowning again, she texted him back, trying hard to hit the right letters and failing miserably. m by thdc bar next tv the unicirnf statue.

Text to +44 9536 231450: Stay there.

Text to ASSHOLE: well i'm noto goijng to laeve when the drunks are cheap think it throgh

#o; asher #ch; lydia

Text to +44 9536 231450: what will convince you i'm not him

Text to +44 9536 231450: i don't know how many times i have to tell you i'm not him

Text to +44 9536 231450: i don't even know who you are

Text to ASSHOLE: Lydia. Me. the one youb usxed to see nsked a lot

Text to ASSHOLE: i know its u

Text to ASSHOLE: and i aldo know that drinks at driftwdsood are great even if thed plaec is shit

#o; asher #ch; lydia

The little place before Penny didn’t look like much, but she hadn’t expected anything different from Skyla. Tucked away from the busier areas of the city, it was hidden under an awning and between several other small businesses; a greengrocer and a jewelry boutique flanked it on either side. Over the last few weeks, Penny had been getting used to her new coven, visiting them when she could and learning from their skills. Or, at least, that would be the aim eventually. Covens were in operation to let witches grow in skill and stay safe, but Penny thought that she’d prefer to get her own skills under control first. The new city, with far more people than she was used to, was already wreaking havoc with it. Half the time, she didn’t even want to go outside. With that in mind, she felt more partial to the kind of neighbourhood Skyla’s sop was in. It was wonderfully calm and quiet.

She looked inside dubiously; it wasn’t exactly the most intimidating of businesses (what business dealing with love could be truly intimidating to think about?), but the fact of the matter was that Skyla herself was. She’d seen the other girls a couple of times, but Skyla always claimed to be busy, something Penny didn’t want to press too much about. It wouldn’t do to annoy her coven mate so early. But she still wanted to integrate herself in properly, and that meant visiting all of her new comrades. She squinted inside the windows of the store, feeling her stomach clench uncomfortably with nerves. She could barely see inside the damn shop. It felt rather like walking into a cave. A cave where you suspected the occupant might eat you for dinner. Ok, that’s being ridiculous, Penny thought, chastising herself crossly and pushing the door open.

A bell tinkled as she entered the shop, falling silent as the door slid shut behind her, and Penny looked around, blinking in surprise at the sight that met her. Wooden beans criss crossed the shop, certainly more quaint than she’d ever expect to find in any city building, and there were flowers braided around them, even now in the dead of winter. Hearing a small noise, she turned her attention towards it, starting guiltily.

For anyone unfamiliar with Skyla and her character, they would have assumed that she disliked Penelope, and would have much rather not invited anyone else into their tight knit coven. It was hardly a matter of that though. Skyla just didn’t like people in general, and had taken ages to quietly warm to the other coven members. She thought Penelope was fine, a little skittish, but apart from that had little opinion on the new member. She hadn’t realized that her fairly busy schedule was making it appear that she disliked her though, not until Doreen had quietly mentioned it to her one day when she was dropping something off at her shop.

It was what prompted Skyla to make time for Penelope to visit her shop in between appointments that winter afternoon. That day had already been a whirlwind from the moment the ‘open’ sign flipped on its own in the shop window. She’d already had 4 sob stories come through the door that morning, and frankly, she could feel the headache coming on. The last thing she wanted was to be around another human being - good thing she forgot that Penelope was supposed to drop by.

She’s in the back measuring out ingredients for her next batch of love potions when she hears the bell chime softly from the front. Henry, her hedgehog looks up from his bowl of meal worms and lets out a little snort to which Skyla can only look at him begrudgingly. Be nice, he sniffs, and Skyla can’t help but roll her eyes before slipping off the stool and moving towards the front. She’s mentally forcing herself to be somewhat hospitable, but she visibly relaxes whn she realizes its Penelope. “Oh shit,” she utters. “I forgot you were coming.” A part of her wants to ask her to come back, but then she hears Doreen’s scolding voice in her head. She had to make an effort.

“Come in the back. I guess.”

At Skyla’s words, Penny felt her stomach drop. She was still a little wary of her coven mate. Not that she disliked her, or was afraid of her, but there was something about the girl that said, very firmly, leave me be. But it was not in Penny’s nature to be unfriendly. Back home, everyone knew everyone and even perceived rudeness was talked about and spread around like wildfire. There really was nothing like a room full of terse faces, all horrified that you’d not said ‘bless you’ when someone sneezed. Especially fun for her, when she could feel the tension like it was her own.

She pulled a face, trying not to look as awkward as she felt. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.” From Skyla, she felt vague stabs of fatigue, more than anything else. In an attempt to be polite, she tried to block out the other girl’s emotions from her mind. It still felt strangely personal, despite being a constant part of her life. Even so, she considered excusing herself and letting her get on with what she was doing. But then Skyla invited her to the back, and Penny decided that it would be rude to leave just as she got here. She lurched forward, eager to do what Skyla said as quickly as possible, and nearly tripped into a table in her haste. “Of course, um, coming, thank you.”

Face flushing, she followed Skyla into the back, blinking as a haze of strange smells washes over her. “Is this your... Lab?”

#o; skyla #ch; penelope

Text to +44 9536 231450: that's fascinating

Text to +44 9536 231450: i don't care

Text to +44 9536 231450: because i'm not your idjit of an ex

Text to ASSHOLE: look i think i know who i'm yslluing at ok i knowd it's u because u gibe off the aura

Text to ASSHOLE: THED aura of shite

#ch; lydia #o; asher

Text to asher: i'm at that bar we had out first date at it sucks btw n everyonv here is more attractcuvg than u

#o; asher #ch; lydia

The little place before Penny didn’t look like much, but she hadn’t expected anything different from Skyla. Tucked away from the busier areas of the city, it was hidden under an awning and between several other small businesses; a greengrocer and a jewelry boutique flanked it on either side. Over the last few weeks, Penny had been getting used to her new coven, visiting them when she could and learning from their skills. Or, at least, that would be the aim eventually. Covens were in operation to let witches grow in skill and stay safe, but Penny thought that she’d prefer to get her own skills under control first. The new city, with far more people than she was used to, was already wreaking havoc with it. Half the time, she didn’t even want to go outside. With that in mind, she felt more partial to the kind of neighbourhood Skyla’s sop was in. It was wonderfully calm and quiet.

She looked inside dubiously; it wasn’t exactly the most intimidating of businesses (what business dealing with love could be truly intimidating to think about?), but the fact of the matter was that Skyla herself was. She’d seen the other girls a couple of times, but Skyla always claimed to be busy, something Penny didn’t want to press too much about. It wouldn’t do to annoy her coven mate so early. But she still wanted to integrate herself in properly, and that meant visiting all of her new comrades. She squinted inside the windows of the store, feeling her stomach clench uncomfortably with nerves. She could barely see inside the damn shop. It felt rather like walking into a cave. A cave where you suspected the occupant might eat you for dinner. Ok, that’s being ridiculous, Penny thought, chastising herself crossly and pushing the door open.

A bell tinkled as she entered the shop, falling silent as the door slid shut behind her, and Penny looked around, blinking in surprise at the sight that met her. Wooden beans criss crossed the shop, certainly more quaint than she’d ever expect to find in any city building, and there were flowers braided around them, even now in the dead of winter. Hearing a small noise, she turned her attention towards it, starting guiltily.

#ch; penelope #o; skyla

taissaollivander-blog

A pounding headache propelled Taissa out of class, rubbing her temple as she walked. She was more stressed than ever - as they grew older and the classes grew longer, she got worse at making it through them. Too long in one classroom frayed her nerves and her sanity. Some teachers were better than others about letting her take quick breaks, but with the new, significantly more dangerous professors, she hadn’t even asked. 120 minutes at a desk in an already horrific new Muggle Studies class pushed at her limit for self control. At least some classes, like the one they just left, offered some ability to get up and do something, even if they had to stay inside.

Regardless, she needed a walk outside, or least some time on top of the astronomy tower to get some fresh air and see the nearby mountains. Perhaps she could skip lunch and make time…. With a bleary realization, she noticed that Kathleen was talking to her. Sigh. About the party again. She understood the desire to let loose, she really did. But any time spent indoors was time not spent outdoors. She’d really rather not. Taissa looked at her friend and sighed. “I suppose you have a point. How we’re going to make it to N.E.W.T.s with this kind of stress, I’ll never know. I promise I’ll be there, at least for a little while, as long as you make sure there’s gillywater.” She pursed her lips slightly and tried not to smile. “But don’t go crazy.”

She shook her head and glanced back up at Kathleen’s cursing. “Here, let me see.” She dragged her friend to stand against the wall and spread Kathleen’s hand out flat. Her fingers were strong as they worked into the skin, pulling the fingers gently and massaging around the wrist. “Sprains are hard to do just through repetition. Your muscles have probably just seized up. My ankle does this sometimes when I’m climbing a particularly rocky mountain.” She continued rubbing into the palm, making small circles and then crossing over them. “As long as you keep the muscles warm, it should get better. Avoid going outside for a while, and don’t grip your wand so tightly next time.” She flashed a quick smile up at the other girl.

#ch; kathleen #o; taissa #sorry for the delay!

Kathleen shot a sympathetic look at her friend, who’d been gritting her teeth for the last hour or so and whose temple massages hadn’t gone unnoticed. Taissa disliked being cooped up, which had been bad enough when they’d been younger and obliged to spend most of their time in the castle for classes, plus not being allowed the freedom afforded to older students. But now it was even worse; there were rumors that even the trips into Hogsmeade would be banned. The small amounts of freedom they’d had before were vanishing before their eyes. “I don’t know, maybe they’ll scrap them altogether and funnel us straight into some sort of child army. I could talk to Michael, you know, ask if we could have the party outside? It’s not like we haven’t done it before. Well - We haven’t had people like the Carrows creeping around before, but I’m sure there’s a few cloaking spells which would do us fine.” Hopefully.

But at least she was agreeing (although reluctantly). Unlike Taissa, Kathleen enjoyed parties no matter where they were. Being around people was almost a stress reliever and in these times, stress relief was paramount. Unless anyone wanted a sudden influx of students in the hospital wing, needing calming solutions. She grinned, shooting Taissa a thumbs up and a grin. “Me, crazy? What gave you that idea? Gillywater will be there, I promise you. And I can also promise you that it will be fun and we will have fun. Alright?”

Taissa’s attention diverted to her hand, Kathleen allowed herself to be pulled to the side of the bustling corridor, leaning against the wall and watching the other girl gently take her hand. She grimaced a little as her hand twinged, responding to the circles Taissa pushed into her stiff muscles, but she stayed still, enjoying the warmth of her friend’s skin. “It’s not my fault that healing charms have such jerky, complicated hand movements.” She sighed, feeling her hand relax a little under Taissa’s touch and smiled up at her friend. “What would I do without you?”

“Extra class time can be arranged,” Cohen nodded, “Unless you have other friends or peers of yours that you know are struggling too – in which case I can put it out to the class to see if they’d be interested in joining.” He hadn’t run very many small classes outside of class time now that he thought about it. It would require extra prep, but Cohen essentially had nothing else better to do with his time now that he was well…back at school.

“Not that I know of.” Again, she suppressed a flicker of irritation. At N.E.W.T level, most of the students were fairly strong in the subjects they had picked, including the defense students. With Darcy, although her theory was solid, her practical application was less than stellar. “You could ask them, not that they would all take you up.” It had taken a while for her to get over her pride to ask, after all. She was unused to needing academic help.

Things were tense.

The new school year had begun in much the way everyone thought it would, with most of the school cautiously trying to act like nothing had changed. Even the teachers had an air about them, of strict normalcy betrayed only by a tightly set jaw, or a dull glint to their gaze. First years, who should have been marveling in their new found home instead skittered from class to class, avoiding eye contact.

Meanwhile, the new regime had made themselves at home. With Snape as headmaster, backed by a ministry flooded with Death Eaters, his supporters held a new arrogance, knowing that their position was safe and their power secure. Nothing had happened yet, not really. It was still too early for the caution to have dissolved and the minor flames of rebellion had largely gone undetected. But the small things, like the Muggleborn students who’d simply disappeared and the creases on their letters, letting them know they’d already been read by someone put everyone on edge. It couldn’t end well.

With all this to contend with, they all really did deserve a party. So that was exactly how Kathleen broached the subject to Taissa. “Do you fancy it? I’m not sure how big it’s going to be, Michael said about fifteen, but we all know how much attention he pays when stuff’s getting organised. But, you know. Should be fun. Not like we haven’t worked hard enough already.” She flexed her hand, grimacing as the violent actions they’d been practicing played out through her muscles again. “Shit, I think I sprained something.”

#ch; kathleen #o; taissa

riley-abraham-blog

001 - The meeting

Skyla’s overly critical face probably wasn’t helping matters very much, but she had long since given up on trying to control the way that it looked. Her eyebrow rose at that. “Can’t say I’ve ever had that problem.” Even when she had been going through school, Skyla seemed to have a knack for attracting the most colourful of characters. Her three years in Paris was essentially one giant soap drama that she opted to sit on the sidelines and watch. New Orleans had been far less dramatic, but still had its fair share of kooks. She had hoped that she would have some kind of peace and quiet when she returned to Portland, but those hopes had been quickly dashed.

She shrugged as she tapped a quick response into her phone (she’d meet with them tomorrow; despite what some of her clients said, love could wait as far as she was concerned). “They might. It wouldn’t be anything too mean though if that’s what you’re worried about.” Skyla then couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Honestly, nothing those three could cook up would be anywhere near scary.” And to be honest, if the new girl could make it through this initial disaster of a welcoming then she was in as far as Skyla was concerned.

“You’re lucky then. You can only learn how to charm knitwear so many times.” Not that the women hadn’t been instructive and dangerously bright, but what good could they do in the middle of nowhere? Except charm outrageously warm knitwear. A small jab of what felt like a cross between sarcasm and amusement poked at her and she shifted uncomfortably again. As long as Skyla wasn’t feeling her discomfort - which was likely - she was sure that there wouldn’t be too many problems. But, as she knew, it was unlikely. Her feelings, untrained and powerful, had the tendency to run around unchecked, something that was extremely embarrassing for everyone involved, especially for Penny. Who wanted their opinions splashed all over the place? It made keeping any semblance of privacy quite difficult.

Penny nodded, focusing on staying still and ignoring the still-bickering voices. “I wasn’t worried about that, they don’t look scary. But I’m sure they’re very talented,” she added quickly, making a mental note to maybe filter her thoughts a little. Yet another thing that was difficult to control while keeping tabs on five different sets of emotions. The fog that had shrouded the room earlier had nearly dissipated completely, allowing her to see her surroundings better; it was a cosy room, with patterned pillows, pastel colours and little china ornaments. “Whose home is this?”

The words were barely out of her mouth when the room went pitch black. Even the light that should have made its way through the gaps around the drawn curtain seemed to wink out, and there was a small gasp and a twinge of surprise to her left. “Oh dear-”

A tiny light erupted into life to her left, illuminating a bewildered face, before it was struck out with a hiss. “That was supposed to happen, Doreen, leave it!”

“Oh.”

#ch; penelope #o; skyla

“Technique is something we can work on,” Cohen assured her. In fact, it was a common struggle among most students and he could understand why. He had tutored plenty of his friends when they were going through school, and even those that had their hearts set on becoming aurors had gone to him first to get a little fine tuning before exams. Technique, if anything, was something that Cohen could at the very least be confident in.

He caught the raised eyebrow and he cleared his throat before looking away for a brief moment. “Well. Thank you. It’s always reassuring to hear that considering my rather junior nature in the position.” ‘Rather junior’ was putting it mildly, he thought dryly to himself. Exceptionally green behind the ears was probably a better way to put it. The youngest professor after him had at least six years on him. But moving on. “If you’d like, I can hold some extra class time. We can go over what you’re struggling with and fine tune from there.”

“Really, professor, you’re doing fine,” Darcy replied, trying not to smirk. Professor Walcott was indeed a lot younger than the other teachers and here, in his insecurities, it showed. Realising that he was only a few years older than her (at most - none of them knew his real age, but she was sure that most of the school were taking bets) was funny to her.

Darcy nodded, clearly quite relieved. Although she was outwardly a very collected student, her lack of grasp on more practical aspects of magic was something she got rather worked up about. “Extra class time? Like a one on one?”

connorwolfboy-blog

“What is that?” Connor asks, plucking the book from her arms. “Also, don’t sleep for a million years, you’re beautiful like Sleeping Beauty, but I don’t want to have to wait that long to get to kiss you again.”

“Kiss me while I sleep.” Amelie’s voice was muffled, as she was lying face down. “This is an in-depth history of the cold war. I’m not even going to specialise in modern history, but here this thing is.”

#t; amelie #o; connor

“Ah,” Cohen started before stopping short. Shit. That wasn’t the appropriate response, he thought, mentally wincing at his own lack of tact. Of all the questions he had been prepping himself to answer, that wasn’t one of them. From what little he knew of Darcy’s grades in other classes, they were exceptionally well. He had no doubt that if he looked at her OWLS that they would reflect the intelligence that she obviously have.

Quickly clearing his throat, he did what he could to amend his mistake. “Where do you feel you’re falling behind specifically?” he asked. “We can start there. Unless it has something to do with the way I’m delivering the material because that’s always a possibility -,” Oh shut up, Cohen. You’re rambling again, he thought. “I always tell everyone that they’re more than welcome to give me feedback.”

“Ah,” she echoed back. If she was honest, Defense had always been a bit of a weak point, so much so that she’d been astonished by her OWL result. Of course, she’d worked exceptionally hard to get it, but still; memorising wand movements were not what she was best at. Even so, grades were something that her parents (both Muggles and adoptive) could understand about her school life and she wanted to keep them up.

“I’m not entirely sure, sir,” she started, resisting the urge to start twirling her wand, as she was wont to doing. “But I usually struggle with technique. It was the same in charms and transfiguration.” Both of which she had dropped. Her eyebrow raised at his suggestion and she smiled, shaking her head. “Oh, no, it’s really something I’ve always had a problem with, you can ask anyone. I think you’re doing pretty well.” Although she was sure he could do with a confidence boost since he often looked like a student who’s found himself teaching the class.

There was always a sense of relief when Cohen completed his classes emotionally unscathed. Two months in, and he still felt like he hadn’t quite gotten the hang of teaching his own classes, but Professor Mcgonagall still seemed to have this astounding amount of confidence in him and he knew he couldn’t let her, or himself, down.

He was in the process of packing up and going to do some marking when Darcy approached his desk. “Of course, Ms. Lewis,” he started. “Did you have a question about today’s class?” She was usually one of the more vocal ones, but he thought that she had been uncharacteristically quiet today.

Darcy tried her hardest, she really did. She studied hard, handed her homework in on time, practiced wand movements outside of class and generally tried to be in the top half of her class, despite not being naturally inclined that way. But, try as she might, she was starting to feel herself fall behind in Defense. Which was not something she was going to accept without a fight.

“Not exactly. I feel like I’m falling behind and I was wondering what I could do to stop that.”