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Ezrie: 5, 12, 17. >:] Eshie: 10. Augie: 9. *shia voice* JUST DO IT.

Strap in you little fuck, because shit’s about to get live!! I’ve done them in reverse order though!!

“You know, it’s okay to cry.” There it was, his shining moment for which Georgie was sure she’d hear no end, not for the entire evening, and then the rest of their lives. “Would you like my shoulder? A tissue? Maybe so–” “I hate you.” Georgie laughed, punching August lazily in the shoulder as she flopped back onto the sofa, August following suit, his arm wrapping around her shoulder to draw her closer. “What’s my prize, because I have a suggestion–” “You can’t have, Ezra.” August always had suggestions, more often than not surrounding Ezra and his rear, and whilst she was a fan of that topic more than anyone, and yes, whilst she flew the flag and championed that ass; she didn’t exactly want to share it with anyone. Though, if she had to share Ezra with someone it would undoubtedly have been with August. “Just for a day?” He was smirking, eyes bright, excitable, like the big kid he was, but, Merlin, was he was predictable, not that she could blame him, because as men went, August had excellent taste, and really Georgie wasn’t sure there was any prize was better than a day with Ezra… except maybe– “The night?” August interjected, making Georgie snort, the noise catching in her throat. She was really beginning to think that her friend had somehow developed a form of telepathy, because it was uncanny sometimes how in tune their lines of thought were. “August Caverly!” She admonished, poking his side with surprising strength, the man groaning whilst attempting to tickle her relentlessly. Squealing, Georgie had bucked, her legs flying up in an attempt to kick August away, but he was used to this by now, and one arm was already in place, shoving her legs beneath his armpit, before reaching for her sides once more, a triumphant smile stretching his lips, as he hummed, not at all deterred by her flailing form. “St-stop!” She called, breathless and pleading, as she pushed at her friends hands, who after a moment of careful deliberation removed them in a most merciful manner, allowing Georgie to regain her breath before… “Okay, an hour with Ezra?” Flopping onto his tummy, feet dangling over the edge of the sofa, August batted his lashes, eyes wide and innocent, though Georgie seriously doubted anyone of sound mind would have innocent intentions with only an hour of Ezra’s time. “Done.” She chirped, already laughing when keys began to jangle and the front door opened. August’s look of innocent dropped, a dirty smile appearing in its place as Ezra entered the room. Immediately the former Hufflepuff narrowed his eyes, hovering at the door as he assessed the pair of them and the room with a sweeping glance. “Did he beat you at you Mario Kart, again?” Ezra asked, the corner of his mouth twitching, and Georgie could do nothing but force her eyes away from him. “Goddamn, Georgie… fine, fine… come on August. I’m taking you to dinner.”

“I just want this.” She was begging now, really begging, her finger wrapped around a photo frame that she couldn’t bare to look at right now, but she would, in the days to come she’d stare at that flickering image and try to work out just how things had gone so terrible wrong, so quickly. Tears streamed silently down her face, and despite trying, she still couldn’t seem to get her breathing right, but that was fitting she supposed, when everything had gone so wrong. “What don’t you want, Esha? You really came back here for a picture?” Jamie’s voice wasn’t nearly as sharp as it could have been, even now he was holding back, even now she imagined that he wished to make her smile. Still, he wouldn’t, not while he still believed she’d betrayed him, and despite her protests, her promises that she never could, he refused to believe her. For a while, Esha had debated offering to take veritaserum, to prove that nothing had happened with Dallas, that they were just good friends and nothing more but… what relationship would that be, where Jamie didn’t trust her word? Where she had to take a potion any time he doubted her. It made her heart ache, the whole thing, and she wondered how Jamie couldn’t see right now, that she loved the very bones of him. Biting her lip, Esha’s fingers ghosted across the pane of glass, eyes shut tight. How could he stand to breathe? It felt like hell in her chest, and each word they exchange tasted like a prolonged goodbye. “Nothing happened between us. I… I know what it looked like, but you know me, Jamie.” And he did, he knew her better than most, and he’d known her for so long, but she knew him too, knew him better perhaps than he thought she did. She’d felt this coming for a while, but she hadn’t thought it would go down quite like this, and perhaps she’d hoped it wouldn’t hurt as bad for having expected it, but it was all too convenient. “You love her, don’t you?” No part of what she said felt like a question, and how could it when she knew the answer. Esha’s hand clutched tighter at the photo, a wave of hurt hitting her again. “Kipp and I… we’re not–” Words seemed to fail him, and Esha was sure she could see guilt in his eyes. “I love, you.” Jamie insisted, and yes of course he did, Esha believed that with everything she was; but he loved Kipp too; perhaps even more. “I know, but that’s not enough anymore, is it?” Her voice was giving out, they’d been talking for hours, and they shouldn’t have drawn it out so long, both knowing how it would end. Slowly, Esha set the photo down on the table, exhaling gently as she dropped her eyes to the picture frame. Six short months earlier she’d posed for that picture, Jamie’s arms around her waist, his face practically split in two with how wide his grin was. A moment later he’d pressed his face into her neck, and she was giggling, struggling to brandish her left hand at the camera, but it was plain to see from the way the jewel caught the light, just what it was they were celebrating. Dropping her eyes to her hand, Esha tugged the ring free, placing it down gently upon the table, and then stepped back, reaching for her bag and coat. She couldn’t see Jamie, no, she was carefully avoiding his eyes altogether, but she sensed the sudden panic in him, the abruptness of what had just happened, still he said nothing, hovering on the edge of her vision, and it took everything to swallow the lump in her throat as she made for the door. “Esha!” Already Jamie was crossing the distance between them with ease, but already she was shaking her head, though he paid her no mind, his fingers brushing away the tears that still dampened her cheeks. “We can fix this. You and me forever, remember?” Smiling at the memory, Esha leaned momentarily into his touch, turning only to press a kiss to his palm, “we should have to remember, it should just be.” She explained, taking a step back, the space between them feeling so much greater than it really was. It felt like not so long ago she’d walked through the door, and now she was turning to leave once more. For good. “The.. the photo?” Jamie tried, his voice shaking now, and Esha wondered whether he wanted to draw this moment out as long as she did, too, because she doubted either of them would have the strength to stand seeing each other for a long while; still she didn’t stop, her feet not daring to pause for fear she’d never drum up the courage to leave Jamie, and so without turning she called back to him. “I’ll come back for it.” When she remembered how to smile without him, then maybe she would.

Kara had filled in the competition in the back of Witch Weekly mostly as a joke, neither one of them expected to win, and as such, when Georgie was contacted three months later and informed that a car would be along to collect them the very next evening, she had mostly certainly forgotten about it; which had in turn led to a most awkward conversation. Apparating across London to the Studio her sister owned, half scaring, Kara to death in the process; Georgie had laughingly explained that they’d won the two VIP tickets to watch– "Scamander and the Creatures?“ Kara echoed in disbelief, snorting and rolling her eyes. Leafing through the magazine, Georgie grinned. "Yeah? I’ve heard their good,” at least according to the reporter they were, and well if they weren’t, at least the band wasn’t half bad to look at. Particularly the front man. “So you’ll come?” “A wizarding concert? Like I’d miss that!” Fastforward twenty-four hours and Georgie had been forever glad Kara had decided it would be simply hilarious to enter the competition. “So he’s, Scamander, I’m guessing?” Kara’s voice was barely a whisper above the screaming crowd, and Georgie had chuckled, dancing a little closer to Kara, to avoid the bodies pushing against her. “I uh, think his name is Ezra Bucket or something… Scamander is a reference to–” The lights suddenly dropping, and a hush drawing over the crowd, silenced quickly the words on her lips, though Kara still looked eager for explanation. Shrugging she leaned in once more. “Uh nevermind, I’ll tell you later.” The concert seemed to pass by in a blur, even with an encore and requests, though neither Kara nor Georgie got to stay for the last song. No, instead they were descended on, being dragged from the crowd by two men in black shirts, with ’CREW,’ emblazoned right across their chest. Kara arched a perfect brow, ready to unleash hell at being manhandled, but one desperately pleading look from Georgie seemed to leash the beast, and so Kara sighed, allowing herself, and Georgie to be pulled backstage, and then through a series of corridors; twisting and turning before being pushed with finality, into a warm yellow-lit room, already filled with people. Shuffling in, Kara quickly made a beeline for a comfortable couch, throwing her likely aching feet up on to the table just in front. Georgie heaved a sigh, running a hand through her hair. Everything somehow already seemed to be in full swing; drinks and music and more food than Georgie thought had ever lined the tables at Hogwarts, and that was fine, except it was daunting with all the familiar famous faces, dotted about the room. Kara was so at ease, and Georgie envied that, though she didn’t really have a single idea who anyone was, which was rather amusing, and evidenced when a moment later, a cackle to her right stilled the room. Georgie instinctively flinched, groaning at once, could Kara have any less chill? Turning she found her slouched beside the female drummer, a raven-headed woman, who looked glad of Kara’s company despite her nervous laughter. All in all, Georgie had been counting on Kara to kind of stick by her side, not just for the company, but that she wasn’t actually all that sure, you could bring muggles to wizarding concerts. With a half a mind to walk over and steal her mother back, Georgie was seconds away from doing so, when a greeting, friendly and light, drew her to a stop. Turning to face the direction from which it came, Georgie was most surprised to find Ezra Bucket, with a happy, but arguably tired smile on his face. His gaze seemed to linger and it seemed to Georgie that she’d quite suddenly, and at the least opportune time, forgotten how one responded to a hello, and so hesitantly she waved, offering back what she hoped was a smile of her own.They stood in companionable silence for a few moments, Ezra turning to pour himself a drink, and god she really needed to try if she was going to make it through this evening. She’d been having such fun before, why couldn’t she now? A joke. Tell him a joke! From the furthest corner of her mind, a suggestion which drew a frown and made her bite her bottom lip. “I didn’t know you could sing.” Ezra Beckett raised an eyebrow, lip quirked in amused questioning, and Georgie felt like a dick. A dick of monumental proportions. Why was that the first thing she’d thought to say?! “Sorry, it was a joke… a bad joke. I don’t know why I thought… Sorry.” Reaching for a dragon puff, Georgie without hesitation stuffed her mouth. She could get through the rest of the evening like this, ensuring her mouth was well and truly busy at every given moment and maybe then she wouldn’t get herself kicked out. Georgie was sure that would work alongside another thousand apologies, when suddenly Ezra Beckett was laughing, head tossed back, eyes alight with humour, staring at Georgie like she’d just won comic of the year. “What’s your name, again?” He asked, when his laughter had quelled enough to speak. His gaze now averted, Georgie watched as Ezra poured two small glasses of black death, before handing her one, nodding once more as if to encourage her to answer his question, but it was slightly difficult when people around the room seemed to be nudging each other, and staring in their direction. “I uh, Georgie Forbes. I won the tickets, my mum came with m-” Words catching in her throat, Georgie’s eyes widened, finding Kara now straddling the drummers lap, mouth locked in a heated kiss. “Merlin, give me strength.” “Looks like your mother’s having a good time, Rom will take good care of her. Come on!” He was laughing again, mouth drawn up in a cheeky grin as he tugged her over to a couch of their own, his hand resting in hers. “So tell me, do you and your mother normally cause a stir like this? What do you do, I bet it’s something as bizarre and strange as yourself.” He was fixing her with that look, smoldering, like she was the only person he could see; eyes dark and impenetrable and so easy to sink beneath. And she was, sinking, closer and closer, until his face was a fraction from hers. His eyes flickered to her mouth and hovered for a moment, before she finally brought them together, heated breaths mingling as Ezra drew her into him for for a fraction of a second before they both separated, to the sound of hoots and hollers. “Sorry.” She muttered sheepishly, as Ezra reached to push the hair from her face, a smirk on his own. “You say that a lot, do you actually mean it?” He asked, eyebrows raised once more. “Not really.” “Excellent.” He grinned, leaning forward once more to steal her lips, and if it was only for tonight, at least it would be something to remember.

They were in the middle of nowhere, and if Georgie had to hazard a guess, she would have said the Welsh valleys. The rolling hilltops and bleating sheep had only been her second clue. The rich stench of manure had been her first; still it was fair to say that the Order had come a long way in the last three years. They’d had to after all. Georgie could still remember the day it had happened, fifth year, off home for the summer, her head resting on Ezra’s shoulder, knees drawn up on her seat as they drew up at the station. Years later there was still no indication of how they’d managed to steal onto the train, or of how they’d hidden themselves, but it was plain sick that they’d waited. Watched and listened in to the sound of chatter and laughter of the soon to be dead, just to watch them fall in front of their loved ones. They’d sent a clear message. Muggle is might. Ezra had dragged her away, gunshots still ringing, and had dropped down into the tracks, dragging Georgie with him. Somehow he’d cast an invisibility charm upon them, and later she was suitably impressed he’d been able to, with one hand pressed against her mouth to stem her screams, and the other tight around her waist. In the aftermath, when the dust had settled and the screaming had turned into strangled sobs, eyes turned to their lawmakers, their protectors, but no one had been prepared, not even the Order. Their eyes had been on the pure of blood, and now that same blood was spattered against the brickwork, mixing with the red of the Hogwarts Express. That was the day the Muggleborns fought back, and it was also the day that Georgie had lost Kara. Not a day had been the same since. Two years down the line, the magical world was in chaos, a pureblood resistance rising up to crack against the muggleborn, but they were no match. Too long they’d taken for granted the knowledge the muggle world had to offer, and now it was being used against them, and if things didn’t change, what future would they be left with. So, muggleborn or not she’d signed up for the Order, Ezra rolling his eyes, but dutifully signing up with her, and now here they were, some obscure safe house, in the heart of nowhere. Wales. They were definitely in Wales. “You can’t protect me.” She’d not asked him too, and fuck if he died… She couldn’t even bare to think about it, to be the cause of another death. Georgie Forbes didn’t need protecting, she was strong and smart, and useful. Why did the world look at her like she needed to be protected. “I’m not standing here to protect you. I’m here because…” “Let me guess, because Kara wouldn’t want this for me, and you feel it’s your duty to look after me.“ She was no one’s responsibility, and Kara was dead. She’d never forget the sight of her sist- her mother, as she soon learned; dead on the floor, blonde hair sticky and congealed with her own blood. Georgie hadn’t thought it possible for a human to make a noise like she had. It had been as though her chest had been ripped open, and she’d wailed, the noise low in her gut, her entire body alive with pain as she’d cradled Kush’s head, pleading with her to open her eyes. "No. Because I love you-” Shaking her head, Georgie frowned, but Ezra hadn’t even paused for breath as he continued to explain hurriedly just why he was signing up for something he didn’t even believe it. “-and I know you have to do this, and if I can accept that, you need to accept that I’m going to be right there with you.” By the time Ezra was almost through, realisation of his confession seemed to have dawned upon him, and Georgie was 420% sure she could see the smallest spattering on a blush against his cheeks. “Did you just say that you lo–” She was smug as anything, a grin upon her face, in spite of not getting the entirety of her sentence out. “Oh, shut up.” Ezra retorted quickly. “Shutting up.” She nodded in amusement, though she jabbed him in the arm with her elbow anyway. “Me too.”

Wedding’s, Georgie feared were supposed to be happy occasions, particularly when it was one’s Mother’s wedding; but with the combination of love and liquor around the room, she was practically guaranteed to find happiness one way or another.An hour and a half later, Georgie had reached the very probable conclusion that everything was quite clearly Kara’s fault. It was her complete and utter inability to let things lie, and really she wouldn’t have been in this situation at all, in this entire mess to begin with, had she not poked and prodded and nagged Georgie into submission. Why though, why on earth had she decided to listen to her, to chase after Ezra after all these years. Who did that? Turned up at their ex’s door four years down the line, and tried to break up their wedding? Georgie Forbes did. That’s who. And all she’d done since that day was regret it, because she couldn’t imagine for a second that it would have hurt this bad if she’d stayed away, if she’d just let him have his happily ever after without intrusion.She was mad at him though; so angry that he’d dismissed her despite everything they’d shared. He’d been afraid once too, had made choices that only served to cut her deeper, under the guise of trying to protect her, and she’d forgiven him, loved him all the while… even with knowing that her mistakes were greater, she’d wanted him pull her closer, to part his lips and whisper three words into her ear. “Are you drunk?”No. No that wasn’t right, that wasn’t what she’d wanted him to say. How was she getting it wrong even in her head? But Merlin, even the faux sound of him, was enough to make her warm, for a flickering few seconds, and when it passed she drew her glass to her lips once more, the fire whiskey catching in the light, far too familiar, eyes that she’d never see again; and without hesitation she downed the rest of her glass, the burn not quite as fulfilling, but pleasant enough. “Okay you’ve definitely had too much.”No she hadn’t. That wasn’t true at all. She’d never have enough. Not when she was still imagining his voice, a full week after seeing him. He was married now; and Georgie was… better off alone. “Lish-en buddy. I’m fine.” Her mouth felt like it was padded with cotton wool, but otherwise she wasn’t lying, because fine, as everyone in the English speaking world knew, meant not fine at all.“What have I told you about lying to me, Georgie?” It was the curl of her name, gentle, yet scolding, which had her so quickly on edge, so reluctant to turn and face whoever it was sitting next to her, because she was sure either way she would hurt. It was knee-jerk though, it always had been, and sure enough there he was, Ezra Beckett. Heartbreaker. Life ruiner. Apparently here to injure her further. Softly she groaned, dropping his gaze quickly to wave at the barman she’d become fast friends with. “Do you really need anoth-”“Do you really need to be here!” She erupted, her eyes sliding quickly to his. In this light they were more coffee brown, dark and indecipherable, but at least she could order more fire whiskey without the reminder of him. “Kara invited me.” That was inconvenient, and now that Ezra mentioned it, Georgie was sure she could feel a familiar and very keen pair of eyes staring into the back of her head. Kara was unbelievable!“Of course she did. And did you bring your wife?” She sounded so bitter, so wounded, and she hated every part of herself for not being able to show Ezra she was doing just brilliantly without him; that his now permanent absence from her life was doing her a world of good. The clink of a fresh glass of whiskey placed in front of her, startled them both, and Georgie could only beam up at the angel dressed in black and white tie; but the moment she reached for the glass, it was moving away; a tan, freckled hand darting towards it with such speed that the alcohol sloshed against the rim, spilling across his hand, in his haste to keep the two lovers apart. “Ezra!”“I didn’t come here to watch you drink yourself into a coma, Georgi–” Whatever was coming out of Ezra’s mouth was of little concern to Georgie in that moment, her mind was too full of questions, and once again her mouth felt thick with cotton. All Georgie could do was stare, eyes wide, fixed on his face, watching as he hurried to get out whatever it was he had to say, but it was too late, he’d slipped up, and Georgie was sure she wasn’t imagining herself sobering up, her mind becoming clearer, even as she stared at him in disbelief. Throwing a hand up, she halted him, her head tilting as she swallowed, her eyes darting back down to his hand, and then to his face once more. “Ezra. Ezra, shut up. Why aren’t you wearing a wedding band?”