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"---Um, is going there really a good idea?"

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"I'd never get you in trouble, what kind of friend do you think I am?" Nora tutted, looking towards the bottle Lily held. "Maybe not finish it...But I'll have a little."

"You don’t look like you’re going to get me in trouble and I’m in a shite mood," Lily said. "Wanna finish this off with me?"

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Nora looked up from the book she'd taken off the shelf when she heard a familiar voice, grinning and shaking her head. "I guess I could fit you into my busy schedule. Why him?"

Henry slowly peered over the books on the top shelf, stage whispering, “could you spare a moment to talk about our lord and saviour, Salazar Slytherin?”

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"I really hope so! We deserve a better new year with everything that's been happening."

"Heres hoping for a calmer new year, eh?"

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"I don't think I need the street cred. Actually, I'd probably be a lot better off without it--wouldn't want to ruin my angelic demeanor." She laughed. "Oh, that's not bad, really. Well, I'll feel sorry for the students. No one likes to be kept in class." As he averted his gaze, she hopped over to right in front of him, waving her hand in front of his face. Was he flustered? "I'm right here, you know. And never."

"It’s boring, you’re not missing out on much. Does give you a bit of street cred, though, y’know." Henry nodded along, returning to fixing up his unicorn. "Professors being kind would be bad for us, keep students in longer, give us more time to get away." Henry laughed and shook his head, refusing to look at her, "shush you."

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"Oh, sorry! I didn't think anyone else would be here-- I can move, if you'd like."

"And you’re loitering here… why?"

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Singing is something that expresses my feelings. Just like a best friend, although we occasionally become disagreeable, time and time again, I find my way back to it.

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"Hey, now, you still have the rest of the day," Nora replied, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them as she listened to Avaric. He seemed so...defeated. And he shouldn't have been; this was Avaric, the boy whose sarcasm flowed off his tongue like it was his first language, the boy who normally seemed unflappable.  But everyone had their breaking point--he had reached his. And you're just waiting for yours, mocked a little voice in the back of her mind. "They weren't right!" she exclaimed, her head snapping up. Howlers like that beat down a person until there was nothing left; she hadn't been the target, but even overhearing the cutting words spewing from them had made her flinch. "Like hell they know better than you do. Just because they're adults doesn't mean they're instantly wise, thinking they know the best for you. They only know what they want from you, they're not actually thinking of you. It's horribly unfair." The words flew from her lips in a rush, and she took a breath once she was finished. "They're not true, awful things like that--they're not true."

howl!

"Shit," he muttered, wiping his eyes with the tissues given to him. "Well, this is not how I imagined spending today.” He tried to inject some humor into the situation, faring horribly.  He wasn’t in his element of sarcasm right now, just plain old gloominess and derision from one last Howler that was ranting— his grandfather’s. Stiff old codger. As the final letter ripped itself into pieces, he cried his eyes out, practically trying to empty the tissue box.

Staring out the window with a bit of a hollow looks in his eyes, he gave a small sigh before turning to Nora. “They were right, you know.” he said languidly, as if he was being eaten up from the inside out, “Every last snide fucking remark. They know better than I do, so I’ve got to—” There were more tears welling up, from him trying to hold back every last emotion that he felt just then trying not to break down once more.

"Just answer me this, Wood… are they true?"

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"I suppose you do," Nora hummed. "I wouldn't know--never been in detention before. And I don't think I'd like to start, so I guess we better finish this up. Well, hopefully the professors are feeling particularly kind today, yeah?" She smiled, painting a sweep of blue across the wall. She'd have to remember the movie for future reference. "Oh, really? Then you must be a great singer when you do try."

"Oh yes," Henry nodded along quite seriously, "you have to be exact when you’re trying not to get detention. Though if I’m being perfectly honest, it’s a give or take six minutes sort of thing, depending on how generous the professors are feeling today." He quirked his eyebrows up, "the movie is better than that." He was going to return to figuring out how to slip away to deface school property with phallus’, until he caught the end of a half compliment. "I— totally wasn’t even trying."

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"Aw, really?" Nora responded, pushing herself up and looking up at the sky. The sweep of light blue above her was, indeed, now dotted by rolling gray clouds. She stood up, adjusting her uniform smiling back at Frank. "It's fine, thanks for the warning. Better to know ahead of time then to suddenly get rained on--" And as if on cue, it startled to drizzle. "Like right now, apparently."

"I, uh–– I’m sorry, Nora.. I didn’t want to bother you cause you looked so peaceful and––– but I.. I think it’s going to rain, soon.." Frank smiled sheepishly, absentmindedly twisting the edge of his sweater while he gazed down at the girl on the grass. Leave it to Scotland to ruin a perfectly sunny day with rain….

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GOLDEN GIRL // a mix for the girl with a disposition like sunshine and a storm in her heart.

be still - the killers | something good can work - two door cinema club | believer - american authors | the tower - vienna teng | fear and loathing - marina & the diamonds | wear it like a crown - rebekka karijord | paper heart - f(x) | are you what you want to be? - foster the people

i. be still -- the killers be still / wild and young / long may your innocence reign / like shells on the shore / and may your limits be unknown / and may your efforts be your own / if you ever feel you can’t take it anymore ii. something good can work -- two door cinema club let’s make this happen, girl / you gotta show the world that something good can work / and it can work for you / and you know that it will iii. believer -- american authors i’m just a believer / that things will get better / some can take it or leave it / but i don’t wanna let it go / i'm a little bit sheltered / i’m a little bit scared / i’m a little bit nervous / i’m goin’ no where iv. the tower -- vienna teng the one who survives by making the lives / of others worthwhile / she’s coming apart / right before my eyes / she carries the act so convincingly/ the fact is sometimes she believes it / she can be happy with the way things are / be happy with the things she’s done v. fear and loathing -- marina & the diamonds don't wanna live in fear and loathing / i wanna feel like i am floating / instead of constantly exploding / in fear and loathing vi. wear it like a crown -- rebekka karijord 'cause courage and belief are my redeems / no one else can rescue me it seems / 'cause if i don't follow my heart this time / i'm gonna forget what this life is all about / i'm gonna take that path, i'm going in on my own / i'm gonna take that fear and wear it like a crown vii. paper heart -- f(x) i’ve never been hurt over love or thought of anyone seriously before / so i’m serious / i try to act strong on the outside but my heart is like paper viii. are you what you want to be? -- foster the people these things ask the biggest question to me / and it’s are you what you want to be / so are you what you want to be?

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Nora lay on the grass near the lake, enjoying the rare sunny sky. Her eyes fluttered shut as if she was about to take a nap (which was really tempting, she had to admit), only to open a moment later when she realized someone stood near her. "Hmm? Need something?"

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As James grabs her hand, she goes stumbling towards the floor after him, unable to keep from falling. How did she ever think she could actually keep him from hurtling to the ground without being pulled along?

Probably? No, this was a bad idea!

I-I-I-INCOMI-I-I-ING!

Wildly grasping for the female’s hand, it’s with a scream of a prayer and a swear that all his shit was going to incinerator the moment he splits open his head that he takes that leap of faith to let go—

FUCK, THIS WAS PROBABLY A BAD DEA—

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Nora's letters from home usually consisted of two things, and two things only: how she was doing in school and how Quidditch was going. This one was no exception. In no mood to read the entire letter, she skimmed it before stuffing it in her bag, her eyes landing on Avaric quickly darting out of the Great Hall, letters in hand. While she was only irritated by the letter from her father, he seemed to faring far worse than her. Slipping into the halls and following the undeniable voice of Howlers bouncing off the walls, she found Avaric soon enough, looking absolutely miserable. She couldn't imagine what that'd feel like, to be constantly bombarded with harsh, piercing words. but she supposed she could at least try. She sat down next to the Slytherin, wordlessly passing a small packet of tissues to him. "You weren't kidding about your family, huh?" she finally whispered, glancing over at him.

howl!

In today’s mail call, Avaric found himself with not one or two, but eight letters. This would’ve made the boy ecstatic and gave him a smile if six of them weren’t Howlers from his extended family. Quickly excusing himself and heading to a secluded part of the castle, he opened all the letters one by one, reducing him to tears.

The screams, slurs and shouts were too much, leaving him crying well after the letters were opened. He was sad. He looked pale and his eyes were puffy from crying, not noticing who came after him. He was caught in a daze of his own misery, leaving a puddle of tears on the floor.

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"Twenty one?" Nora repeated, amused. "That's exact." At Henry's rendition of Grease, which she had never actually seen, she burst into laughter. "Oh, Merlin, please tell me the movie is better than that. Your singing voice's not half bad, though."

"I can speculate too. We’ve got twenty one minutes before this corridor fills up, so we better make like Grease Lightning." Henry pointed at Nora with a paintbrush and did the pelvic thrusts from the Muggle movie.  "Oh grease lightning you’re burning up the— something something~" 

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"I feel sort of sorry for them, really, and I didn't say successfully. I think he looks more amused than interested. If you think he's so cute--which, yeah, he is, I'll give you that--why don't you go over and talk to him?"

"Damn, watching fourth graders awkwardly tossing their hair and stuttering through horrible pick-up lines is always funny. Wait, successfully? How did they manage, that guy looks like he could be at least sixteen and is kinda cute as well."

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Both, definitely both.  Riveting storytelling, let me tell you. Not now, but I'm sure I'll come up with some later. After all, we have a budding friendship, so there will be lots of time for questions. Maybe I'll even make celebratory cupcakes.

Hm, that's debatable. I mean, I'm not really good at hiding things or being subtle, but that's an occasion that calls for that sort of thing. Would you really? Because that'd be sort of really cool, honestly. Smart of your aunt--connections will get you far in life.

You noticed? What gave it away, the utter disdain in my voice or the torment-filled anecdotes in my life? Yes, I do take my revenge seriously and yes, Chapman and I have a hate-hate relationship. Any more questions?

Well, if brother dearest doesn’t bash my head in for letting you drink a crate of the stuff, I think we’ll be fine. And I’ll be sure to bring expensive make up from my aunt in Paris or some other high-end shit country that she’s visiting. I’ve heard she’s been doing a CEO and blackmailed him or something.