#she's well on her way to having one with Dayana too

[astoldbychae]

Marguerite and her siblings; Jerrica (Left), Trace (Middle), & Dayana (Right)

[L to R] Jerrica, Dayana, Marguerite, & Trace

Marguerite is the eldest sibling, then its Jerrica, Trace, and Dayana.

[zelenxa]

1309 - The Beaumonts

Dayana’s heart races as they carefully navigate the quiet village, one hand raised above her hand to ease the onslaught of rain and the other held by Alexandre. Regardless of the lack of people walking around, Dayana can still see the light illuminate from cottage windows, appreciating how they shine on Alexandre’s face just right.

He brings her to the backdoor of what appears to be an inn. A handsome, almost embarrassed, smile appears on his face when he pulls her in to enter the door first, the room they walk into looks to be filled with crates. Dayana spots his lute huddled up in a corner where a straw bed appears. She hates how she blushes at the sight. Alexandre, ever the gentleman, guides her away from the bed to settle her on a wooden bench before sitting beside her.

He doesn’t mention her line of thought, though perhaps the quirk in his lips reveals he has half the mind to say otherwise.

Alexandre sits on a crate beside her, his hand reaching down to grab his lute. Dayana shifts in her seat, watching as he strung about a drafted tune together. She glances around the storage room, not making note of his current living space. His travels were frequent yet not surprising for a man of his job. Dayana is never bewildered to see the places he lays in for day-to-day travel. The Watcher knows well she could never afford a well-placed inn if she’d traveled as much as Alexandre. Nonetheless, she finds it warming how he always finds time for her with however little time that can be when they are both available.

Oh Watcher, she is smitten with him.

“Are you not worried of being too loud?” Dayana voices aloud, drifting out of current thought.

Alexandre looks upon her, an amused tone in his voice as he says, French accent and all, “The tavern is usually busy of night, can’t you hear it?”

Dayana strains her ears to pick up on the faint sounds of people talking. She guesses it makes sense so few people are roaming outside during this weather. A rainy night out is the perfect excuse to lay low and relax at a tavern. “Are you to perform?” she asks curiously after a beat passes, placing her chin atop her hand.

Alexandre shakes his head, a small notebook of scribbles in hand. He had once revealed to her he knew as little written words as she had, save for the poems his mentor had taught him—not that he had let others know of such delicacy. Clever, she had thought of him. “Not tonight. The tavern-keepers would like me to play a specific tune tomorrow.”

“Oh? Is singing poems and stringing along tunes all you can do?” she teases, a smile almost creeping up her face.

Alexandre’s brown eyes glimmer with amusement. He plays along. “I memorize poems to sing in a rhythmic matter for a little coin.” He leans in slightly. “And perhaps, one day, I will write them for Lords and Ladies to memorize and sing along.”

Her lips tilt up in a charming fashion, the wistful tone of his dreams heartwarming to hear. “So you’re a bard?” she continues in jest.

Alexandre quirks an eyebrow. “Is that what these townsfolk call it here?”

“That’s what my mother calls you. ‘A lowborn, city bard,’ I think were her words.”

“Ah, a nice Scottish insult then,” he responds accordingly.

Dayana’s lips pull up in a grin, and Alexandre smiles back, a finger of his reaching out to place a lock of her behind her ear. Dayana tries her earnest not to blush. “I think I’d like to be referred to a Troubadour instead. Sounds fancier.”

“I think you’ll have to tell my mother that first,” Dayana rebukes, looking down to fiddle with a piece of bent wood.

Alexandre’s gaze remains on hers even as she stops looking, an unidentifiable emotion brooding within them. For the briefest second, it’s like he notices everything about her; her every facial feature, the way the candlelight shines on her beautifully, or how her black hair falls just in place—all of it like it’s entwined within in his mind.

“Yeah,” he agrees a little distantly, and a moment of silence passes before he finds further words. “I think I’ll have to when I ask for your hand in marriage.”

a/n: finally decided to do research on bards for once—to say I knew nothing is an understatement T_T. past beaumont posts (specifically 1307) have been slightly updated for better accuracy.

next (chrono) // next (beaumont) // previous

[ts4hotspot]

For @alltimefail-sims Bachelorette challenge :)

Name: Dayana Oakes (Day)| Age: 25 | She/They, Lesbian

Aspiration: Eco Innovator

Career: Civil Designer (Green Technician)

Traits: Vegetarian, Kleptomaniac, Bookworm, Movie Buff, Creative. 

Likes: Black, green, alternative, focus, metal, and singer/songwriter music, baking, cross stitch, pink/black hair, baking, activism.

Dislikes: BOWLING, (They quite literally can’t even be near a bowling alley.... and can’t wait to tell the story why :) ) grey hair, country outfit style, arrogant assholes.

Fun facts about Day-

~ Day grew up and into an extremely rich family from San Myshuno, but when they turned 18, they ran away to live in the gorgeous town of Sulani, as to get away from her parents’ raging homophobia and hate for Day’s activism for LGBTQ+ community as well as women’s rights. (Their family thought it gave them a bad name)

~She got a degree from the esteemed Foxbury Institute for Communications- Day hated the university but was EXTREMELY passionate about the career track they were going into, so that pushed them through.

~ Day is fluent in both Japanese as well as ASL. Her younger sister is deaf so she learned at a young age and taught her sister as well, since their parents’ were too busy with their careers to even notice them.

~They do not have a car, because they believe riding their bike is MUCH more sustainable for the environment (and they think they look cooler that way)

~She is an EXTREME hopeless romantic, straight out of the gates. Day believes that chivalry is not dead, and wants to open her whole heart and world to someone that will be able to do the same for her. Day does NOT waste time on people that cannot give them the love that they lacked in their childhood, as she wants children and does NOT want her children to go through the same hardships as she did.

~They are a coffee ENTHUSIAST, down to find every single cafe near the area they are in just to see which one has the best vibes as well as flavor, and has a blog to rank them all.

[msdvine]

TLDR.  too many mommy issues.   reformed piece of shit who used to be a high school bully but is now 64% angel, thinks she’s funny and her best friend is her dad.

*     taveeta szymanowicz, cisfemale + she/her |      you know   DAYANA DEVINE,   right? they’re   TWENTY-FOUR ,    and they’ve lived in irving for, like, TEN YEARS ?     well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to   SEASHORE BY REGRETTES   like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole   ( velvet red mini skirts hiding insecurities,  a smirk worn to suppress mean words, the faint taste of liquor on her lips )   thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is   JANUARY 11TH,   so they’re a   CAPRICORN,   which is unsurprising, all things considered.

                            A LITTLE ABOUT GROWING UP . 

tw.   alcohol, bullying mention, very short mention of verbal abuse.  anything else i forgot to add just yell at me !!

she grew up with her father after her mother abandoned them without blinking an eye which turned out to be for the best since her mom was a raging alcoholic who spewed words of venom often. her father worked his ass off to provide for the two of them in irving, they struggled for quite a few years;  eviction notices, threats of their electricity getting shut off, splitting frozen lunch meals, until he finally found a steady good paying job to provide for them.

still, dayana felt incredibly powerless. control is something a lot of teenagers yearn for and she found it incredibly challenging to have when the universe stacked all their cards against her.   until high school !    where she finally allowed her mother’s killer instincts kick in, and found herself on top of the food chain rather than being stomped on like she’s used to.   truly , an evil little bitch .   dumping milk on her fellow classmates’ head to get a laugh,  taking unflattering photos and uploading them online, emitting poison from her lips for the sake of doing so.   she didn’t necessarily enjoy it,  no matter how it looked,  every time she’d look at herself in the mirror she’d see her mother staring back at her but, to her, it was survival.   in that lame-ass cliche high school sort of way.

her reality check didn’t come into play until her second semester of college, where she decided to work through her mommy issues with a therapist in an attempt to redeem all of her wrongdoing.     she knows, however, that the damager she caused for others is likely still present and is doing her best to make things rights.

                                           PERSONALITY . 

she can still have a mean streak though! she is REFORMED BUT NOT TAMED. she’s usually quite good at biting her tongue but sometimes judgement and cruel words slip out unintentionally, it’s a work in progress.    but seriously she’s 5′4 like just push her down

as for the rest of her personality, especially now that she’s older, she’s loyal as fuck !  gives the best hugs since touch is her love language! will cut off her arm to make her friends smile! drinks tequila like it’s water on the weekends and will always be your bad influence to encourage you to do the drugs she’s too pussy to take.

an absolute flirt !!! boys, girls, she can’t help it baaaaby.

she understands she’s not perfect and has done some pretty fucked up things

TYPE 3 WITH 2 WING AKA PLEASE ACCEPT ME. SHE WILL DO WHATEVER POSSIBLE FOR PEOPLE TO BE PROUD OF HER.

super arrogant but super insecure. make it make sense.

thinks she’s funnier than she is. quotes way too many memes.

                               WANTED CONNECTIONS. 

exes     /    previous high school sweethearts  /   fwb  &  the usual .  we can talk about whether it’s on good or bad terms !   

former best friend .    think of heathers ,  her as heather duke and her friend as heather chandler !  after she got reformed , talked shit out in therapy , she unfortunately cut this person off , no matter how close they were.

prior victims.   as i said, she used to be hella mean ,   maybe they’ve talked since then , maybe they haven’t.   perhaps this person still hasn’t forgiven her ( we can talk about how bad it was ,  but probs v bad ).    either way let her kiss ass to make things right . 

ROOMMATES X

idk she could have been the villain anyone needs in their story .

ANYTHING !! gimme connects pls ! that one person who bumped ur muse on a train in the 1800s idk idk anything 

(STATS THAT NO ONE CARES ABOUT)

[lancastercountylegacy]

Liz has learned a lot of lessons since moving in with Stan.

Independence has brought on a series of different challenges for both her and her boyfriend. Both of them had to learn how to pay bills, how to budget their money, and how to survive on their own. They were thankful that this little trailer was cheap to live in and didn’t cause them too much trouble.

One of the things that Liz has learned a lot about was cooking. When the two first started living here, their dinners just consisted of precooked dinners from the clearance section of the supermarket, dinners that Dayana would make for them, and canned goods. Neither of them had any cooking talent; at some point, takeout was their main source of food.

But, as time went on, Liz did some research on beginner-level recipes. She watched cooking shows with Stan and wrote down some of the yummy meals they made. She found recipes that friends shared on SimChat. She not only expanded her palate but also learned a valuable skill as well.

Stan also became quite the chef as well. Having Corey as a friend and watching him cook definitely got him more involved in making food for himself. Corey even lent him his favorite cookbook and let him take pics of the recipes that he wanted to try out for himself. Whenever Liz is too tired to cook, Stan takes the reigns and makes them something nice to eat.

Liz loved making dinner for both of them. She actually really enjoyed cooking and experimenting in the kitchen. She never used to get inspiration from watching cooking videos until her later teen years. But now, she finds herself spending a good portion of the evening making a nice, nutritional dinner for her and her boyfriend.

She’s improved a lot in many ways over the years. Both her and Stan went from two scared and naive kids to independent, self-sufficient young adults. They had each other to guide their way through the path of adulthood. They taught each other lessons and brought out the best in each other.

They had nothing to worry about.

[lesbianarcana]

Luceo non Uro - Chapter 9

Dies irae (day of wrath)

Relationships: Asra/Apprentice

Rating: Mature

| Read on Ao3 |

~

He had never seen the streets so empty.

Asra moved down the street at a headlong pace, lungs burning. On a normal day the crowds would have been out in force, flowing between the south market and the docks. Now there were so little people...and so many red-painted doors.

His nerves felt raw here, fear keeping his chest tight. But still he kept an eye out, and when he saw the clinic -- a wooden sign with a painted bottle of leeches -- he veered towards it. And stopped, as he caught sight of the red paint smeared over the doorframe.

Of course it would be marked, he reminded himself, as his stomach clenched. This was the ultimate haven for plague sufferers.

Asra tried the door. Locked.

Confusion overtook him. He leaned against the building and pulled the stack of letters from his bag. They were dog eared and fraying, worn from being read many times -- but never replied to. A reaction borne of pride, and one he now regretted. The last two were particularly creased and many lines were crossed out, as if they had run out of parchment.

D  e ar As ra

Forgive the shortnes of the letter. I dont know how Ilya ran this clinic by himself. Exhaustin g. I dont know where you are and I dont know why you wont answer my letters. I dream of you every night. Please dont leave me to wonder so callously.

Day  a

He closed his eyes, imagining the words as if they fell from their lips. When he could hold the paper without trembling, he read the last one.

Asra

You must hate me. Why else would you meet my le ters with cold sile nce

Please Im sory. If I could take it back I would

Asra clutched the last letter to his chest and knew a moment of bitter regret.

Two weeks it had been since the letter found him, inkstained and tremulous. Daya had always written in a beautiful cursive (maybe he was a lovesick fool, to think even their handwriting was lovely, but they did) -- it had to be fatigue. It had to be. Anything else was unthinkable. Unacceptable.

Faust peeked out from under his scarf. Her tongue flicked the air, and she slithered across the paper, across his hand.

Daya?

“I don’t know, Faust,” Asra said heavily. “I think they must have gone to help the doctor.” Knowing Daya, they would have worked themself to exhaustion, and then they would have pushed themself some more.

Even if they were better now. Even if they were angry at his stubbornness; even if they had finally given up on trying to contact him...it didn’t matter. Together they could talk it out. They always did.

Faust slid over his shoulders, and Asra nuzzled her with his cheek.

Snooze?

“You snooze,” Asra said, stroking her chin. “I need to find Daya.”

Faust sent him a distinct sensation of disapproval, but Asra placed her in his bag and moved away from the door. He was exhausted, it was true, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to find them--he had to know they were alright.

~oOo~

His legs were burning by the time he reached the palace.

It wasn't hard to bluff his way inside. The doors were open to any who offered help to cure the plague, and it had only been a matter of convincing the chamberlain he was there to consult with the doctors. From there it was only too easy to be pointed to the library.

The palace hadn't changed much in the year or so since Asra had attended the Masquerade--with Daya, he reminded himself sadly--but without the festivities it seemed oddly empty.

The library door was open, its heavy carved door braced against the wall. Asra walked in with purpose -- and there was a desk shoved against the far wall, like the chamberlain said. A man sat in the spindly chair, poring over a large red tome.

Daya had never described the doctor’s appearance in their letters, but the plague mask hanging off his chair gave him away immediately. He was thin, and tall enough that he needed to hunch over the desk. Red curls flopped over his face; over a long nose and sharp chin.

“Doctor Devorak?” Asra asked.

The man jumped, glanced around wildly and looked right at him. His grey eyes widened, and--strangely--a flash of recognition passed over his face.

“You're Asra, aren't you? Asra Alnazar?”

For a moment Asra paused, taken aback. “You know me?”

“No,” Doctor Devorak replied. He rose slowly, closed the book with a thud and approached, adjusting his jacket. “My apprentice described you. Dayana Firestone--Daya. They, uh, made mention of you.”

Asra’s stomach clenched at the fondness in the man’s expression. An idle thought crossed his mind, but he pushed it away--he had no business questioning either of them over what might have happened in his absence. He had no right.

“They did?” he said, tongue thick in his mouth.

“Ah, well, to say they only mentioned you once or twice is quite an understatement. Daya spoke of you fondly. A lot, actually.” The man extended his hand. “Ilya Devorak. Or Julian, if you prefer. I know Nevivon names aren’t easy on the tongue. Not if you’re used to Vesuvian, as it were.”

“You talk about them as if they’re--” Asra’s heart twisted painfully in his chest; he took a deep, shuddering breath and steeled himself. “Where is Daya?”

The doctor left his hand hanging awkwardly for a moment, then withdrew it, running his long fingers through his hair.

“Asra...why don't we go somewhere else to talk? I have an office down in the --”

“I'm not interested in talking,” Asra replied coldly. “I want to know where they are.”

Ilya sighed.

“They’re gone,” he said finally. His shoulders slumped. “One of the other doctors took them to the Lazaret two days ago.”

“What do you mean, they’re gone? What the hell is the Lazaret?”

His heart was thundering in his ears, panic building in his chest. Faust poked her head out of his bag; Ilya’s eyes flicked to the snake questioningly, then back to him.

“It's where they take the sick who..who are almost...”

He trailed off. Guilt flashed across his face.

“No,” Asra said. The sick dread caught in his chest, and he felt dizzy.

“Asra, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you had to find out like this.” The man looked wretched, Asra observed from some faraway place in his mind. Guilt and regret painted his sharp features, made his pale skin even paler. “I only just found out.”

Asra looked at the remorse in the doctor’s expression, and wondered how he could so hate a person he had only just met.

“I don’t want your apology,” he said, his voice low.

“I--I know. Sorry doesn’t seem to be enough...”

“It’s not. No--” Asra stepped back as Ilya reached for him, his expression empathetic. “Don’t touch me. I’ll find my own way out.”

He turned on his heel without another word and left, before the tears could spill down his cheeks, and ignored Ilya’s voice calling his name.

Gone. Gone, they were gone, and he was too late.

The pain in his chest intensified, and Asra forced the sobs down into his stomach. He would not be seen broken. Not by Ilya--especially not by him. The thought made him want to vomit.

Daya?

“Not here, Faust,” Asra said breathlessly, as his pace quickened. “But we’ll find them.”

[nprinterns]

Intern Guest Post: Rachel Sacks

Development intern Rachel Sacks has composed this blog post for what to do when you’ve been picked as an intern and want to make the best of networking possibilities. Check it out!

MAKING CONNECTIONS AS AN INTERN

I’m not gonna lie—working at NPR Headquarters is exciting. Voices you’ve only heard on the air suddenly become associated with bodies, and Tiny Desk concerts become a regular part of your schedule, and. NPR news is streamed live in the elevators (and bathrooms). The most exciting part of working at NPR, however, is access to the brilliant, knowledgeable, and kind folks all throughout the building.  My strongest recommendation during your time here is to reach out as much as possible and learn from people you might not get to meet otherwise. These are my tips for making the most of creating connections.

BE THE SQUEAKY WHEEL—BUT NOT TOO SQUEAKY Put yourself out there. Seriously, reach out to people that you’ve never met before but want to get to know, and if they don’t respond just stop by their desk or send a follow-up email. I truly believe that respectful persistence is the driving force to achieving goals, and sometimes it really is necessary when the person you want to meet also needs to cover breaking news or has a podcast production deadline or simply isn’t the most timely responder to non-emergency emails. This doesn’t mean get in the way of their work (also known as being too squeaky), but it does mean that it can be very worth your time to gently remind them that you’re interested in their work and getting to know them.

MAKING THE COLD EMAIL WARM With so many emails filling inboxes, it’s important to make your introductory message has some charm. As tempting as it might be to send something along the lines of “HI OMG I LOVE YOU HOW CAN I BE LIKE YOU,” it’s really best to avoid that path—especially because the reality is that this is an office space and not the front row of a Beyoncé concert. First, calmly introduce yourself, and mention what you admire about their work. Then, explain why exactly you want to meet with them, and be as specific and personal as possible. Maybe you want to learn a certain skillset, or they cover specific topics in a field you want to enter. Finally, THANK THEM. Keep it concise, keep it personal, and keep it in your inbox so that when they respond you can save the email chain forever as a souvenir of the amazing connections you made at NPR.  

FAME ISN’T EVERYTHING Make sure not to limit yourself to the big names at NPR. As cool as it might feel to tell your friends that you chatted with some of the most famous names in radio, there are so many interesting folks in a variety of departments that are worth getting to know. When I wanted to learn more about the Hidden Brain podcast, I reached out to Tara Boyle, the supervising producer whose name wasn’t familiar to me. She was wonderful to talk with and taught me so much about Hidden Brain’s production. She even invited me to one of the team meetings so I could get a better idea of what working on a podcast looks like. From finance, to development, to audio, to music, the building is filled with so many folks to learn from. 

WONDROUS WALK-ABOUTS At least once a day, I get up from my desk and walk around the building. I find this especially useful since my department (Development) isn’t in the newsroom, so I take this time to get to know the ins and outs of the various news desks and podcasts downstairs. I get to know where the offices are of people I want to meet and observe the lively conversations happening in every corner of the room. I find this essential to learning more about the structure of NPR and the different jobs at play—giving me a better idea of what skills I want to gain, and who I want to meet with and learn from.  I also take this opportunity to chat with the interns I pass and learn about the work that they’re doing. I’ve made connections that way too! While chatting one day with Dayana Mustak, the How I Built This intern, she introduced me to Guy Raz, former correspondent at NPR and current host of three NPR podcasts. This is a perfect example of when I got to know a fellow intern, learned a bit about her job and the making of a podcast, and got to meet the host too!

NATIONAL PUBLIC HAPPY HOUR My favorite people at NPR are the interns. The interns at NPR are friendly, easygoing, and ambitious, and they make the internship extra fabulous. Spend time with interns. Eat lunch together. Talk about projects and collaborate together. Go to happy hour together—a D.C trend and a great way to get discounted food and drinks while getting to know new friends! It is so fortunate to have a large group of people ready to have fun both at work and in the streets of D.C!

Here are a few examples of when these tips have led to successful connections for fellow NPR interns!

KEVIN GARCIA - diversity intern - After introducing myself in person to Leah Donnella, a news assistant for Code Switch, I followed up with her through email and we made lunch plans for later that week. Over lunch, we bonded over unexpected similarities—Leah went to college in Southern California while I’m from Los Angeles, and we both came to NPR not having a background in journalism. She asked me about what I was hoping to get done during my internship, as well as what I hoped to do after NPR, and gave me tons of support and guidance about how to achieve my goals. I thought it was really cool that she was willing to spend some time with me and help me get my bearings in the newsroom, and it showed me that NPR folks really do want to see interns succeed!

LOUISA LINCOLN, sponsorship intern - As an intern in the sponsorship department (National Public Media), I wanted to get a better understanding of the business and revenue-generating operations happening in the building. I reached out to Alaina Gibbs, who works in the development department, to get a sense of the work that she does with the NPR Foundation Board and with the donor relations team. She responded to my email within a few minutes and was so friendly and willing to chat. We met for coffee at Sound Bites the other day and had a great conversation about working in development for nonprofit journalism organizations and about the work she does here. She even provided some very helpful career guidance suggestions and offered to connect me with other people in the development department to learn what they do. It was definitely scary to send her a cold email, but I'm so glad we were able to connect!

JENNA STERNER, training photography intern - About a month and a half into my internship, I made a personal goal to email one new person each week with the hope of setting up a meeting with them. I came across the name Hannah Bloch, and shamelessly looked her up. Her Twitter bio alone was enough to get me interested, where she had listed her past experience at National Geographic and as a Time correspondent in Pakistan. I wrote up an email essentially telling her that I had researched her and was so fascinated by her experiences. I said I would love to spend 15 or 20 minutes learning more about what brought her to NPR and the work she’s doing now. She immediately responded with “Happy to chat! How about today at 3 pm?” It meant a lot to me for her to take the time and share a piece of her life with me. It also fueled my fire to start emailing people nonstop until I could set up more meetings! This building is packed with cool people who have incredible fascinating stories and it is absolutely worth reaching out and saying hello because you never know who you may meet!

[starsandmaple]

Dances and Drafts, Chapter 12 - The Yule Ball

Synopsis:

It is 1977 and the Triwizard Tournament has come to Hogwarts. As the school prepares for its first Yule Ball in two-hundred years, Lily Evans finds herself completely put off going thanks to a certain toerag, and Severus Snape too shy to even consider attending. Can a cunning plan change that?

Notes:

I do not own these characters or anything deriving from the Harry Potter universe. All of that comes from the lovely J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Insert obligatory joke about being broke.

The Yule Ball

The ball lived up to the excitement. Well, visually at least.

As soon as they stepped into the Great Hall, Lily’s jaw dropped in absolute awe. The room had been transformed into a winter wonderland; icicles trickled down from the bewitched ceiling which had been enchanted to look like snow fall. The silver statues which lined the walls seemed to sparkle as they reflected the white lights of the hundreds of enchanted candles floating around the room. Round tables, upon which stood incredible ice sculptures of various magical creatures, were scattered throughout the hall, only leaving space for the dance floor in the centre of the room where the champions and their partners stood in pairs. Three large Christmas trees, each covered in a delicate dusting of snow, had been placed at the end of the hall where a small stage stood in front of them. On this stage, a string quartet was just beginning to play the next song.

Lily and Severus were stood at the back of the crowd of students, some of whom seemed impatient to join in the dancing now that the champions had finished their waltz. Lily looked up at Severus, who was looking nervously at his feet. Lily felt butterflies in her stomach as she regarded him. He looked very handsome in his robes, something which Lily wondered why she hadn’t expected. His usually messy, ungroomed hair looked to have been tamed a little too, giving him an air of something ‘not-quite-Sev’ about him. He usually could not care less about his appearance, but he’d clearly made an effort tonight.

Finally, the bulk of the crowd in front of them had managed to make their way onto the dance floor for the next dance, another waltz. A few groups of students hung back; most of them were witches and wizards who had appeared to have come alone, and some were couples who, like Lily and Severus, hadn’t quite brought themselves to join in with the couples dancing.

“Would you…” Severus spoke suddenly, causing Lily to look up in surprise. He wasn’t looking at her, purely because he thought that if he did all of the courage he had would be sucked out of him at the sight of her.

Severus cleared his throat and tried again.

“Would you like to dance, Lily?” he finally took the chance to carefully gaze at her from the corner of his eye. Lily blushed and looked away just as their eyes met.

“Um, y-yes!” she tried to seem confident, but failed miserably as she stuttered. Severus hesitated before leading her through the last few students to the edge of the crowd of dancing couples, hoping that she couldn’t feel his pulse which was thumping in his chest.

They turned to face each other, they were stood very close together neither taking initiative to lead. Severus quickly looked around, a slight panic striking him as he realized he had no idea how the dance went.

“I-“ he quickly looked back at her, “I didn’t pay much attention in the dancing lessons we had,” he confessed as they stood there, a little awkwardly.

Lily gave a nervous giggle. She wasn’t used to feeling like this; she was usually so confident and couldn’t help but feel frustrated with herself that she should get nervous over something so simple.

This is Sev, she reminded herself, trying to mentally slow down her own heartbeat.

“That’s okay, I don’t think many people did,” she got to work at arranging their arms into the correct position, trying to remain very methodical about it to avoid, unsuccessfully, any feelings of embarrassment as she placed one of Severus’s hands in her own, and his other on her waist. Finally, she placed her own hand on his shoulder and waited for the beginning of the next bar in the music.

“Ready?” she looked Severus in the eye. He was visibly a little red in the cheeks, obviously not quite sure what to do with himself as he shifted his weight onto each foot in an obvious sign of nerves. He managed to keep her gaze and gave a small nod.

Lily smiled up at him and took the lead, stepping back on her left foot to join in the dance. Severus was visibly tense as he followed her, stepping forward on his right foot. As Lily led him through the motions, Severus couldn’t help but keep his eyes fixed on his own feet, terrified that one wrong step would cause him to trod on Lily. As the steps began to repeat themselves, however, he started to get the hang of it and relaxed little by little, even managing to look up at Lily every once in a while, who he realized was also looking at his feet. She looked up slightly and caught his eye, smiling a small, sweet smile.

Severus’s world became focused on just her and oh, was it enchanting. The feeling of her hand in his, his arm around her, being closer to her than he could have ever hoped for. His heart was absolutely pounding and his stomach was tying itself into knots as it usually did when he was around her. But this was different. They were together, dancing together, actually doing something romantic together. If this moment could have played out for the rest of his life, Severus would have died in bliss.

They were so focused on each other they may as well have been the only ones there. Both of them finally feeling confident in the steps, their eyes remained fixed on each other. They had managed to become even closer together with the movements of the dance; there was no longer space between their bodies as they glided across the floor, Lily no longer completely leading Severus through the steps.

Severus returned Lily's smile, her brilliant green eyes were sparkling at up at him, reflecting the candlelight which glittered around the room.

Severus barely noticed that his face was moving closer towards hers until he began to feel her breath against his cheek. Lily’s eyelids fluttered and Severus could almost feel her eyelashes tickle him. His heart raced. His breath quickened. His own eyes began to close as their noses nearly touched and then…

The sound of applause snapped them both out of their trance. The dance had ended.

Lily’s eyes widened and she slowly joined in the applause.

What was… Did he almost just – No, we almost just… Lily’s thoughts were swimming. The haze that had clouded her mind throughout the dance had not completely cleared and if she were not mistaken her vision had become slightly blurry. She dared looked up at Severus, who was very clearly avoiding eye contact, having also put a little distance between them since being jolted out of their embrace.

Lily shook her head a little in attempt to clear her mind, trying to fight the wave of confusion and, if she would dare admit it to herself, slight disappointment that had resulted from what had just been interrupted.

Hogwarts’ headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had made his way onto the stage as the string band cleared. He was met with increased applause from the crowd below. As the applause died down, he held his wand up to his neck and spoke in a clear, bombing voice.

“Welcome, students and faculty, to the 1977 Yule Ball,” Dumbledore’s eyes sparkled as he spoke, a hint of pride gracing his features, “now I know you are all keen to continue with the festivities so I will keep this brief, as we celebrate the first Triwizard Tournament held in centuries with an evening of feast and dancing, I encourage you all to put aside the competition for a brief period and enjoy the company of friends, old and new,” he smiled warmly, “now, if you would each find a seat, we can let the feast begin!” with a clap of his hands, food filled the tables and soft music began to play throughout the hall, covered by the sudden waves of conversation from the students who were all finding their places.

Lily suddenly realized she didn’t know where they would sit. Would they sit with her friends or his? Luckily, Severus seemed to be one step ahead of her.

“We should find your friends,” he said, still not ready to look at her yet.

“Oh,” Lily said, mildly surprised “I-if you’re sure?” she regarded him carefully. He nodded.

“Not many of my friends are here anyway,” he grinned slightly to himself.

Lily surveyed the room and quickly spotted Dayana who was waving at her. She was stood next to a dashing Durmstrang boy with short blonde hair and a broad stature. This caught Lily off guard a little, Dayana hadn’t mentioned a date to her in the many many conversations they’d had about the ball. As Lily and Severus approached them, Dayana motioned to him.

“Lily,” she said, a hint of smugness in her voice, “this is Nicolai, Nicolai,” she gestured towards Lily and Severus, “this is my friend Lily and her date, Severus,”

“Nice to meet you Nicolai,” Lily smiled at him and he returned it, “shall we find somewhere to sit down?”

Lily quickly grabbed Dayana by the arm and led her towards a table with a few other Gryffindor student, leaving Severus and Nicolai following behind them.

“Who is he?!” Lily whispered excitedly into Dayana’s ear. Dayana giggled a bit.

“He asked me to dance during the second song, isn’t he lovely?” Lily nodded enthusiastically. She could feel herself being swept up in the excitement of it all, the ball, the music, the almost ki-

She mentally cut herself off and took a seat at one of the tables. Severus took the seat next to her, looking more than a little uncomfortable, and Dayana sat on her other side looking elated. They could not have been more opposite.

As Dayana talked Lily through all of the events of her evening so far, Lily realized, much to her relief, that Dayana seemed to have been so caught up dancing with Nicolai that she hadn’t noticed Severus and Lily together during the waltz. She wasn’t in the mood to be quizzed on something she didn’t really understand herself.

“He actually cleaned up pretty well didn’t he?” Dayana said, shooting her eyes towards Severus momentarily.

Lily smiled and nodded, picking up some turkey from the big plate in front of her and placing it on her own, along with some extra stuffing and cranberry sauce.

“You know whatever you decide to do I’ll be happy for you right?” Dayana’s comment caught Lily off guard.

“What do you-“

“I just mean that if you’re worried about what people think you shouldn’t be,” Dayana said clearly.

But Lily wasn’t worried what people thought of her. She had always found it so strange that people, particularly Gryffindors, treated Slytherins like they had the plague, that people treated Severus like he was weird and different. They were just people who valued different things, shouldn’t that be celebrated?

Lily frowned a little to herself as she stole a quick glance towards Severus at her side; he was clearly still very uncomfortable. She wanted nothing more than to make him feel welcome anywhere that she was, especially among her Gryffindor friends. Deep down, however, she knew that the simple fact of him being in Slytherin would make this near impossible in the company of members from her own house, not to mention the fact that he personally was the target of bullying by the Marauders.

“Hey Sev?” Lily turned towards him, finally causing him to look at her for the first time since their dance.

“L-lily?” he stuttered a little but didn’t look away. She smiled at him.

“I’m really glad I’m here with you,”

“Lily, I’m-“

“Well well,” Severus was cut off by the icy voice of someone approaching them, “how’s it going Snivellus?”

Lily froze, her eyes widened at Severus, not wanting to look at who was slowly walking towards them, though she knew that voice perfectly well.

“What do you want Potter?” Lily could not believe he was doing this now, what more could he possibly have to say? It was over, Lily was here with Severus, he had nothing to gain from causing a scene here.

“Oh, Evans, I just thought there might be something you’d like to know before you let a Death Eater try and snog you again is all,” he smirked. Severus was frozen, wide eyes staring at the floor between himself and Lily, who turned in her seat to face James. Of course he had been watching her and Severus together.

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

James twirled his wand casually in his hand, putting it on display obviously in case anyone tried to get in his way.

“Oh, didn’t you know? I thought you two were so close that Snivelly would have mentioned that tiny detail,” Lily glared at him.

“I don’t care what rubbish you make up about Sev, I will never be your girlfriend James,” anger was boiling within her now. She was perched on the edge of her seat, ready to stand up to him if needs be. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that though, the whole table had already gone silent and others around them were beginning to listen in too; she did not want this to get out of hand. Not tonight.

“It’s not rubbish, I had the pleasure of hearing it from Severus’s old friend Malfoy that he was being recruited after he graduates. Ask dear old Sevyourself if you don’t believe me,” James placed an arm on the back of Severus’s chair, who had visibly blanched and looked like he wanted nothing more than to apparate into thin air.

“That’s not true,” Lily spoke defiantly, “everyone knows Malfoy is an eccentric, and even if he was trying to recruit Sev he probably tries to recruit everybody in Slytherin!”

James grinned slyly.

“We thought you might say something like that,”

Lily frowned.

“What do you mean-“

“Peter!” James called over his shoulder. The small, bumbling Peter Pettigrew scurried to James’s side, “Would you show Evans what you uncovered on your trip to the Slytherin dorms?”

Lily’s eyes widened.

“How did you…”

Peter reached into his robes and pulled out a shiny, silver object which he handed over to James, who held it in front of Severus.

“Snivellus, would you care to explain to Evans what this is?”

If it was possible for Severus to go any paler, he did.

“That is not mine,” he spoke in a small voice, not looking up at anyone.

“I’m sorry Snivelly, that wasn’t quite what I asked,” James said in a contemptuous tone.

Severus had had enough. He stood up quickly and faced James, a sudden look of venom in his eyes.

“It is a mask and it is not mine,” Severus spat.

“It isn’t just a mask though is it,” James turned it over and placed it in front of Lily on the table, “this is a Death Eaters’ mask,”

Lily glared at James from her seat.

“You thought this would convince me that my best friend is a Death Eater? You could have gotten this from anyone!”

“But you see Lily, I didn’t,” James held Severus’s gaze, “look.”

Lily rolled her eyes and picked up the mask, turning it over in her hands. It was incredibly ornate and heavier than it looked. She narrowed her eyes at it, failing to see what James was trying to get at until.

“The inside, Evans,” Lily spotted it just as James spoke. Her eyes widened.

Engraved in clear, decorative writing on the inside of the mask were the words:

A lifetime of service or death.

S. Snape

“Y-you did this,” Lily’s hands shook slightly and she looked up at James with timid eyes.

“Is there anything you have to say for yourself, Snivellus?” James did not look at her.

As he spoke, Severus’s right hand twitched at his side, he was one little push away from drawing his wand.

“Severus, don’t…” Lily said in a small voice.

“No, Snivellus, go ahead,” James said, stepping forward even closer to Severus, “Wouldn’t your Dark Lord praise you for it?”

At that, Severus couldn't stand there a second longer. Without looking towards Lily, he stormed out of the hall, attracting countless gazes from nosey on lookers who had witnessed the scene.

Lily stood up and went to follow him.

“Good luck with that one Evans,” James called towards her, “He’s a real keeper!” Lily turned on her heels, her eyes pooling with the beginnings of tears which threatened to fall in anger at any moment.

“Don’t you dare Potter!” she pointed at him, furiously, “Don’t you dare,” and with that she ran out of the hall.

[morganbelarus]

Strong Wimbledon showing for Serena Williams: wins in singles, mixed-doubles play

United States’ Serena Williams, left, is watched by playing partner Andy Murray as she plays a shot during a mixed doubles match during day six of the Wimbledon Tennis Championships in London, Saturday, July 6, 2019. (AP Photo/Tim Ireland)

Serena Williams walked into her news conference at Wimbledon holding her phone, a cold bottle of water and a statistics sheet that reinforced what was clear from watching her third-round singles victory Saturday:

She is as close to being back to her best as she’s been in a while.

COCO GAUFF, 15, ADVANCES TO ROUND 4 AT WIMBLEDON

Williams, hampered for much of this season by injuries or illness, took a step forward against 18th-seeded Julia Goerges, a powerful hitter in her own right who lost to the American in last year’s semifinals at the All England Club. Sure enough, Williams hit serves at up to 120 mph, put in a tournament-best 71 percent of her first serves, never faced so much as one break point and won 6-3, 6-4.

“It’s been an arduous year for me,” said Williams, who had competed only 12 times in 2019 until this week, mostly because of a bothersome left knee that finally is pain-free. “So every match, I’m hoping to improve tons.”

Maybe it was a good thing she played twice Saturday, then.

About 4½ hours after getting past Goerges at No. 1 Court, Williams headed out to Centre Court for her much-ballyhooed debut as Andy Murray’s teammate in mixed doubles. Other than one slip near the net when she lost her footing in the first set — she was fine and laughed it off — Williams looked good during the 6-4, 6-1 win against Andreas Mies and Alexa Guarachi, including smacking one serve at 122 mph, equaling the fastest hit in singles by any woman (her, naturally) during the tournament.

“Andy and I both love the competition. I know we both want to do well,” Williams said. “We’re not here just for show.”

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She rarely is.

But if Williams is going to win an eighth singles championship at Wimbledon, and a record-tying 24th Grand Slam singles title overall, she will want more performances like the one she gave against Goerges.

Forceful, yes, but nothing was forced.

“I play pretty good when I’m calm, but also super-intense, just finding the balance in between there,” the 37-year-old Williams said. “So it’s a hard balance to find, because sometimes when I’m too calm, I don’t have enough energy. Still trying to find that balance.”

Two more key stats on the paper she brought to her media session: She produced more winners than unforced errors, 19-15, while Goerges finished with 32 forced errors, a reflection of just how difficult Williams can make it for opponents to handle shots she sends their way.

Goerges credited Williams with causing havoc with her returns, as well.

After averaging 10 aces in the first two rounds, Goerges was limited to half that many.

Of more significance, perhaps, was that Williams’ stinging replies to serves immediately put her in control of points.

“It’s fair to say that she builds up enormous pressure with her returns,” Goerges said. “That means I need to go to the limit in my service games.”

After the traditional middle Sunday off, action resumes Monday with all fourth-round men’s and women’s singles matches.

Williams, who is seeded 11th, will face No. 30 Carla Suarez Navarro, while the other matchups on the top half of the women’s field established Saturday are No. 1 Ash Barty, who has a 15-match winning streak, against unseeded Alison Riske of the U.S.; No. 21 Elise Mertens against Barbora Strycova; and two-time champion Petra Kvitova against No. 19 Johanna Konta of Britain.

On the bottom half, it will be the 15-year-old American sensation Coco Gauff vs. No. 7 Simona Halep; No. 3 Karolina Pliskova vs. Karolina Muchova; No. 8 Elina Svitolina vs. No. 24 Petra Martic; and Dayana Yastremska vs. Shuai Zhang.

In the men’s draw, eight-time champion Roger Federer and two-time winner Rafael Nadal both won in straight sets Saturday to move closer to a semifinal showdown. Federer’s record 17th visit to the fourth round at Wimbledon will come against No. 17 Matteo Berrettini, an Italian never before this far at the grass-court tournament.

“For me, I’m very happy how it’s going so far,” said Federer, a 7-5, 6-2, 7-6 (4) winner over No. 27 Lucas Pouille. “I hope it’s going to take a special performance from somebody to stop me, not just a mediocre performance.”

Nadal, who defeated Jo-Wilfried Tsonga 6-2, 6-3, 6-2, meets unseeded Joao Sousa next.

No. 8 Kei Nishikori meets Mikhail Kukushkin, and Sam Querrey plays Tennys Sandgren in the first Week 2 matchup at Wimbledon between two American men since Pete Sampras beat Jan-Michael Gambill in the 2000 quarterfinals.

Kukushkin’s four-set victory over Jan-Lennard Struff at Court 12 was interrupted when a 60-year-old female spectator had to be resuscitated after collapsing.

Sandgren beat No. 12 Fabio Fognini 6-3, 7-6 (12), 6-3 at tiny Court 14, with its 318 seating capacity. Fognini unleashed a tirade in Italian at one moment, saying he wanted a bomb to explode at the All England Club. He later said his comments came in the heat of the moment because he was upset about not playing well and the condition of the court’s grass.

“If I offended anyone, I apologize,” said the volatile Fognini, who was fined $27,500 at Wimbledon in 2014 for unsportsmanlike conduct and is in a Grand Slam probationary period after getting kicked out of the 2017 U.S. Open. “That definitely wasn’t my intention.”

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Original Article : HERE ; This post was curated & posted using : RealSpecific

Strong Wimbledon showing for Serena Williams: wins in singles, mixed-doubles play was originally posted by MetNews

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Teenage star Cori Gauff aims to keep Wimbledon fairytale going against Simona Halep

[I] The 15-year-old American is the story of the tournament been until now ] Published: 12:14 BST, July 7, 2019 | Cori Gauff & # 39; s Wimbledon

The 15-year-old American is so far the story of the championships, after he had come through the qualification to defeat Venus Williams Magdalena Rybarikova and Polona Hercog in a magical few days that have become a world star.

She has been left behind by stars such as Michelle Obama Jaden Smith, Samuel L Jackson and Reese Witherspoon have reached her on social media and admitted that her life has changed.

<img id = "i-48925a81e2a15bee" src = "https://ift.tt/2Xwgs1C image-a-26_1562497412969.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" The 15-year-old Cori Gauff has taken Wimbledon by storm and confronted with Simona Halep on Monday – old Cori Gauff has taken Wimbledon by storm and has faced Simona Halep on Monday "

15-year-old Cori Gauff has captured Wimbledon and faces Simona Halep on Monday

<img id =" i-c908508dedd9ba95 "src = "https://ift.tt/2JrQFxS" height = "597" width = "634" alt = "< img id = "i-c908508dedd9ba95" src = "https://ift.tt/2JrQFxS" height = "597" width = "634" alt = "

Gauff defeated Polona Hercog at Center Court on Friday to expand her dream in Wimbledon

Gauff defeated Polona Hercog at Center Court on Friday to extend her Wimbledon dream "her Wimbledon dream

It has been a week that she will remember forever, but her tennis will eat under serious investigation while being confronted with former w orld No. 1 Simona Halep in the last 16 on Monday

Halep is a grand slam winner, but that will not change Gauff's view in the competition. just go approach her like any other race I'm approaching, & she said.

& # 39; My routine has worked pretty well, so that's the way I enter the competition.

I don't know if it will feel different. We will see when I go on the field.

& # 39; I played juniors this time last year and I lost in the quarterfinals.

<img id = "i-c3b9515699ce6e02" src = "https://ift.tt/2Xx3d0s. jpg "height =" 427 "width =" 634 "alt =" The 15-year-old American had already seen Venus Williams and Magdalena Rybarikova "class =" blkBorder img-share

The 15 -year-old American had already seen Venus Williams and Magdalena Rybarikova -year-old American had already seen Venus Williams and Magdalena Rybarikova

<img id = "i-33e5cd23d9d0863f" src = "https: // i.dailymail.co.uk/1s/2019/07/07/12/15733162-7221577-image-a-34_1562497916839.jpg "height =" 423 "width =" 634 "alt =" Gauff is facing a heavy fourth round match against Simona Halep, the former world champion number 1 "Gauff faces a difficult fourth round match against Simona Halep, the former world No.1" 19459031

World No 1 Ashleig Barty & # 39; s attempts to make it

Gauff faces a tough fourth round match against Simona Halep, the former world number 1

Riske is a specialist in lawns and the Australian knows what her

& # 39; I think that is no secret, & # 39; she said. & # 39; You ask an opponent to play Alison, she's in battle, making you work for every point.

& # 39; I know she likes to play on the grass square. She lets me play a million balls. I have to be at my best. & # 39;

The two-time champion Petra Kvitova was not even sure that she was going to play because she was set aside with an arm injury, but the rest seems to have done her well as she did the first week threats.

The following is a meeting in midfield with homebody Johanna Konta, who is in this phase for the second time in her career, but the injury of the Czech is not far from her wits.

<img id = "i-369dccf8a32fdcd0" src = "https://ift.tt/2JrQG4U image-a-35_1562497981484.jpg "height =" 438 "width =" 634 "alt =" World No 1 Ashleigh Barty will play Alison Riske in the fourth round of Wimbledon on Monday Barty will play Alison Riske in the fourth round of Wimbledon on Monday "

World No 1 Ashleigh Barty plays Alison Riske in the fourth round of Wimbledon on Monday

<img id =" i-b57caf663040b3f7 " src = "https://ift.tt/2Xxmm2z" height = "440" width = "634" alt = "

[English|<imgid="i-b57caf663040b3f7"src="https://idailymailcouk/1s/2019/07/07/12/15733190-7221577-image-a-36_1562498041516jpg"height="440"width="634"alt="TheEnglishJohannaKontawilltakeoverPetraKvitovaattheCentrumhofonMondayafternoon"<imgid="i-b57caf663040b3f7"src="https://idailymailcouk/1s/2019/07/07/12/15733190-7221577-image-a-36_1562498041516jpg"height="440"width="634"alt="

<img id = "i-b57caf663040b3f7" src = "https://ift.tt/2Xxmm2z" height = "440 "width =" 634 "alt =" The English Johanna Konta will take over Petra Kvitova at the Centrumhof on Monday afternoon

& # 39; I have mentioned it many times before, the pain can be in the forearm come and I have to retire, & Kvitova said.

& # 39; It is a bit difficult in practice, my arm is getting tighter. I just felt it. I couldn't really touch it.

& # 39; I am always worried about the scenarios that appear in the competition. So it's okay. I am very happy that I can play my game without pain. & # 39;

Serena Williams went through it without too much drama and another Court One date – her third of the tournament – with Carla Suarez Navarro is the next up

Ties between Shuai Zhang and Dayana Yastremska

Karolina Pliskova hopes to reach the first Wimbledon quarterfinals by beating her Czech countryman Karolina Muchova while Elina Svitolina records Petra Martic. and Barbora Strycova and Elise Mertens complete the draw.

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‘DON’T CRY’: Serena Williams consoles Australian Open foe

‘DON’T CRY’: Serena Williams consoles Australian Open foe ‘DON’T CRY’: Serena Williams consoles Australian Open foe https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

MELBOURNE, Australia — It was all a bit overwhelming for the latest opponent who could do nothing to slow Serena Williams at the Australian Open. So Dayana Yastremska, an 18-year-old from Ukraine, found herself wiping away tears as she walked to the net.

Williams knows what it’s like to be the one weeping after a loss. She put her right hand on Yastremska’s shoulder and consoled her by saying, “You’re so young. You did amazing. Don’t cry.” Then they embraced, and Williams patted Yastremska on the back.

“I could tell she was quite upset. I kind of liked that. It shows she wasn’t just there to play a good match — she was there to win. She wanted to win. That really broke my heart,” Williams said. “I think she’s a good talent. It’s good to see that attitude.”

Maybe she will be tested in the fourth round, because no one has come close to making her work too hard so far, including the 6-2, 6-1 victory on Saturday.

Next up, though, is a far more accomplished player, No. 1-ranked Simona Halep, who took control by reeling off six consecutive games in one stretch and advanced by beating Williams’ sister, Venus, 6-2, 6-3.

After two tough three-set tussles, Halep had a much easier time of things, making only 12 unforced errors while Venus had 33. Halep played with her left thigh taped, but moved around the court well.

“She played pretty flawless,” said Venus, who exits before the fourth round at a fifth consecutive Grand Slam tournament.

Looking ahead, Halep said: “It’s going to be a bigger challenge. I am ready to face it.”

She’s lost eight of her past nine matches against Serena.

Might Venus offer her sibling any tips?

“I don’t know if Serena needs my help or not,” Venus said. “If she does, I’ll be there.”

Not only has Serena won every set she played this week — and 20 in a row at Melbourne Park, dating to the start of her 2017 run to the title (she sat out last year’s tournament after having a baby) — but Williams has ceded a total of only nine games through three victories.

Unlike any of Serena’s foes until now, Halep has won a major title, last year’s French Open. She’s been to three other Grand Slam finals, including a year ago at the Australian Open.

That resume pales in comparison to Serena’s, of course.

Whose doesn’t?

She is bidding for an eighth trophy at the Australian Open and record-tying 24th Grand Slam title in all.

As for the prospect of playing the Williams sisters in back-to-back matches, Halep called it “the toughest draw I’ve ever had.”

“I just want to try to play my best tennis,” Halep said, “because I have nothing to lose.”

Canada’s Milos Raonic moving on to fourth round at Australian Open

Sharapova ousts defending champ Wozniacki in Australia

Serena Williams skin-tight outfit prompts mixed reviews

Other women’s fourth-rounders set up for Monday: Naomi Osaka, the woman who beat Serena in last year’s chaotic U.S. Open final, against No. 13 Anastasija Sevastova; 2017 U.S. Open runner-up Madison Keys against No. 6 Elina Svitolina; and two-time major champion Garbine Muguruza against 2016 U.S. Open runner-up Karolina Pliskova, who beat No. 27 seed Camila Giorgi 6-4, 3-6, 6-2 on Saturday night.

Men’s matchups Monday with a quarterfinal berth at stake will be: No. 1 Novak Djokovic against No. 15 Daniil Medvedev; No. 4 Alexander Zverev against 2016 Wimbledon finalist Milos Raonic; 2014 U.S. Open finalist Kei Nishikori against No. 23 Pablo Carreno-Busta; and No. 11 Borna Coric against No. 28 Lucas Pouille, who eliminated 19-year-old Australian wild-card entry Alexei Popyrin 7-6 (3), 6-3, 6-7 (10), 4-6, 6-3.

Serena complimented Yastremska in the locker room after their match.

“She said, like, ‘You’re young, you’re very good and you will be a good player in the future.’ It’s nice to hear those words from a legend,” said the 57th-ranked Yastremska, who eliminated 2011 U.S. Open champion Sam Stosur in the first round and 23rd-seeded Carla Suarez Navarro in the second.

“If she thinks so,” Yastremska added about Williams, “then maybe that’s true.”

Williams grabbed a pair of service breaks and a 4-0 lead after less than 15 minutes and was well on her way to yet another easy-looking win.

Right from the start, Yastremska appeared a bit jittery, missing 9 of 10 first serves and double-faulting three times while getting broken in each of her opening two service games. By the end of the first set, the teenager had 13 unforced errors, nine more than Serena.

It didn’t get much better in the second set, and Serena wound up with eight aces while facing zero break points, and a 20-13 ratio of winners to unforced errors.

Yastremska was born in 2000, the year after Serena won her initial major, and grew up cheering for someone she calls “a legend.” Yastremska recalls swinging her racket in the living room at home while watching on TV at age 8 as her favourite player competed.

Surely, everything felt a tad different up-close-and-personal with the 37-year-old American in Rod Laver Arena.

What separates Williams from other top players?

“Everything. Small details. Her discipline. Her quality of the shots. How (committed) she is to every ball,” Yastremska said. “She (is) completely different. I don’t know how to describe that. It’s just there’s something special. What I’m trying to do is to go to the level that people are going to talk about me the same, that I have something special.”

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[snsmissionaries]

11/19/18 -- Elder Dalton Hall, Ecuador Mission

13 Months

This week was dope ! So we had interviews with President Moreno but as a companionship and we talked about the new program we started to put the names of our new investigators in Google Docs. We can update it every week to be able to know the names of every person that we find and focus in people instead of numbers. We are looking for miracles and the goal is that every missionary baptizes... so we had 2 but when had our weekly planning the next day and we did what President Moreno asked... we looked for a miracle, someone in the area book that can be baptized this Friday. So we found like 10 old investigators that have attended church and then we prayed for the Lords guidance to be able to find the person ready to be baptized. We prayed and then put 2 names of who we thought we should visit on a note card without the other companion seeing then we flipped our notecard over and we all put Fernando Candela. So we went to his barber shop and had a 15 minute "lesson" on baptism and we invited him. He was a little hesitant at first but we felt the spirit strong and asked if he has the desires to work for it and be baptized and he told us yes. It was so cool. We are super good friends with him and we are helping to prepare him for this Friday. We talked with juan Carlos too, but we havent been able to have a lesson with him, but he still wants to be baptized this Friday so we are going to work and prepare him. Also, Carmen came to church again and she is so sweet. We had some dinner with her, Dennys and her other daughter Dayana. Carmen has a testimony and the desires to be baptized this Friday. (we are going to have the baptisms Friday because the ward is going to the temple in Guayaquil all day Saturday). 

 Also, Vanessa and Kelly are so excited for their baptisms and they always talk about it. They both read and pray and understand so well the scriptures that they read in the Book of Mormon. We always talk about temples and they always have lots of questions and they share their testimonies and talk about how they love the church. They both came to church and had a great experience. They participate in the classes and are edified every week. They felt the spirit and cried in relief Society too. Also, Vanessas 8 year old daughter Mara came to church too and she wants to baptized really bad. Sofia, Vanessa 7 year old daughter, came too and had a good experience. They are going to be in the choir with the primary. They are so prepared and we are so good friends with them and the other members in the family. The Lord has prepared them and I am so greatful to be a part of their conversion in helping the find the way. 

 I felt the spirit in sacrament meeting this Sunday as I prepared myself to receive the sacrament. What a special time that is. we had so many people at church. our ward is super strong and united. We got to help build a house for an older brother in the ward along with the Elders Quorum. We had about 15 of us there putting the cement floor down and putting up the roof. It was super fun and I got dirty and put some work in to represent Arizona lol. Ill try to get the pics they took and send them next week. 

 Today we went to the mall in Machala for P Day and it was ight, pretty small, but I ate the Memphis BBQ burger from Carls Jr. 

 What a blessing it is to be a part of this work. I pray that I will be able to overcome my weaknesses and do the best I can as a missionary. I know that this is the Lords work and his church. i know that he is gathering his sheep one by one and that he loves us. i know that the Book of Mormon is evidence that Jesus Christ is our savior and is the answer to every question, fear or weakness that we might have. I know that the savior atoned for us and that he lives and guides his church, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. As a representative of the Lord Jesus Christ I testify to you all that this is his church and that this is the only way to be able to have an eternal family and salvation in the life to come. In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen. 

 -- 

Elder Dalton Hall

[lesbianarcana]

Luceo non Uro - Chapter 3

Memento vivere (Remember to live)

Relationships: Asra/Apprentice

Rating: Mature

| Read on Ao3 |

~

Vesuvia never had winter in the truest sense of the word. Not like the South, where snow covered entire towns and cities in icy blankets, and you could go days without seeing sunlight. In Vesuvia winter came in gusts of wind and chilly rain, and it was usually gone almost as quickly as it came--chased away by dry and sluggish summer.

The winter after Daya’s third encounter with Asra clung to the city for what seemed like forever. Even as the last month rolled around, the wind still howled around the streets accompanied by smatterings of rain, and you were lucky if you caught the sun peeking out between an endless blanket of grey clouds.

Today was no exception.

Gusts of wind pulled at Daya’s scarf and thick pants as she wandered the market, shopping list clutched in hand. The place was emptier than usual, but that wasn’t saying much. It was still crowded enough she had to step carefully lest she tread on toes or skirts. A sea of faces; some recognisable, but mostly strangers.

For a moment she considered turning around and going home. She was a child of summer after all, and the cold had worn out its welcome two months ago. But then -- she caught sight of a tousled white head, and her heart skipped a beat.

Could it be...him?

Daya’s feet carried her forward without thinking, her eyes focused on the white. A flash of a young face and violet eyes -- he had his back to her, wandering from stall to stall with a leisurely air, touched by neither the crowd nor the wind chill.

It was him, she thought, and her heart began to pound. It was Asra.

“Asra!” she called and he stopped, head turning this way and that. Then a shoulder bumped into her hard enough to make her drop the shopping list. By the time she scrambled to retrieve it, he was gone.

“Damn!”

Daya shoved the list into her pocket and pushed forward angrily, glaring at the man who’d sideswiped her. A quick scan of the crowd showed no sign of Asra, and she gritted her teeth in frustration. How exactly a person with such distinctive looks could disappear so quickly was a mystery. Or maybe it was--quite literally--magic.

Shouts reached her ears, accompanied by the sound of heavy footsteps, and the press of people swept her forward in a sudden panic. Something was happening behind them, and whatever--or whoever-- made several people forward and away in haste.

Daya squeezed her way past an elderly couple and stood on tiptoes to look around for Asra one more time. It had already been over six months since the Masquerade, and she’d never seen him in town before. If she lost him in the crowd it could be another six before she saw him again.

Another shoulder bumped her roughly. Daya staggered back--but instead of cobblestone street, her foot met air.

In that split second she tensed with terror, arms windmilling to keep her balance. Below was the canal, dirty and cold and nigh impossible to climb out of without help.

She overbalanced, crying out as she fell--then stopped with a rough jerk, her feet slipping for purchase on the wet cobblestones. Disoriented, it took her a few seconds to realise there were large hands gripping her wrists, holding them securely. Her gaze darted upward, from the hands to the worn tunic and broad chest, then several inches above.

A pair of green eyes peered at her from a black mane of hair. The face was young, barely into adulthood, with the faintest suggestion of dark scruff on their chin.

“Nice catch, Muriel,” said a familiar voice, and Daya leaned to the side. There was Asra, beaming at them, his face half covered by a voluminous purple scarf.

For a moment Daya simply stared in surprise, glancing from Asra to the young man who held her.

“You’re Muriel?” she said eventually, drinking him in. “Wow.”

Asra laughed, and a flush spread over Muriel’s fair cheeks. He grunted, stepped back and let her go, steadying her with one hand on her shoulder.

“It’s good to you see you, Daya,” Asra said. He wrapped her in a hug, laying his chin on her shoulder. “How have you been?”

“I--uh.” Daya glanced at Muriel, only to see him stiffen. He was looking over their heads, and there was something like fear on his face.

“He’s coming,” he said gruffly. Urgently, Daya thought, as she followed his gaze. “Hurry. He’ll see us.”

Asra glanced in the same direction, and his eyes narrowed.

“Come on, Daya,” he said. “Let’s get out of the street.”

Without waiting for a reply he pulled her towards a little side alley near the market steps. Muriel followed, his hands clutching nervously at his cloak.

The alley was little more than a space between two market stalls set up under a crumbling stone arch. Daya leaned against it  and peeked back out at the market, where the crowd continued to thin out.

“Who are you talking about?” she asked, but Asra put a finger to his lips. Shoulder to shoulder, they watched.

A guard passed. Then two. Then three. Then--a tall figure clad in brilliant scarlet, with a flowing cape that flapped almost comically in the wind. Daya caught a striking profile and slicked blonde hair before they passed out of view.

“Count Lucio,” Asra whispered in her ear.

Daya craned her neck to catch another glimpse at the man as he passed with his retinue. She’d never seen the Count in all their comings and goings in Vesuvia. She knew only two things about him: that he was spoken of with fear, and that he threw the Masquerade parties in honour of his own birthday.

The Count’s footsteps faded and Asra visibly relaxed.

“He’s gone,” he said to Muriel, who was standing further back in shadow.

Muriel didn’t move. He was still staring out into the marketplace, a furrow between his brows, and his fingers curled reflexively in his cloak.

Daya approached him curiously, and his eyes snapped to her face.

“So you’re Asra’s friend. You know, he’s told me next to nothing about you.”

“That’s not true,” Asra said in the background. “Is it? I must have.”

“Only that he helps you create those beautiful masks,” Daya replied, glancing at him. She turned and smiled up at Muriel, who looked like he didn’t quite know what to make of her. “So, thanks for catching me.”

He mumbled something suspiciously like ‘you’re welcome.’

“And you’re...definitely not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?” Asra said, as he came up behind them. He slid an arm arround Daya’s waist and gave her a little squeeze.

“Someone like you, I guess.” She tried to ignore the sudden quickening of her heartbeat at the warm weight of his head on her shoulder. “Are you a magician too, Muriel?”

“No.”

“That’s not true,” Asra said admonishingly. “He’s just being modest. He’s really good at protection charms and casting the runes.”

An awkward silence fell. Muriel pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders and scuffed his worn boots on the cobblestones. Daya exchanged a glance with Asra, wondering how they could have possibly met. Muriel seemed the least likely person to be friends with...well, with anyone.

“Anyway, this is Dayana,” Asra said to his friend. “Daya, this is Muriel. He’s my oldest friend. I’ve known him since I was...what, six years old?”

“Seven.”

“We met after Muriel ran afoul of the Count one time…”

“Asra,” Muriel rumbled. His dark brows drew together; he looked away when Daya gave him a questioning glance.

Asra smiled and patted his arm. “You can trust Daya. They’ve been good to me.”

“I’m very trustworthy,” Daya said cheekily. “I’m a fortune-teller. Utmost discretion at all times.”

Muriel looked doubtful, but nodded, and Asra turned back to Daya. “Out of curiosity...why were you at the market? Running errands...or perhaps avoiding them?”

“Why do you always assume I’m getting into trouble?” she replied, and he laughed. “It’s my birthday, if you must know, and I have the day off.”

A smile lit up his face. “Is it really?”

“Yes, and I’m celebrating by breathing the first fresh air I’ve had in a week.”

“Aw, that’s not all, is it? Come on, let’s do something together.” He beamed enthusiastically at her. “What do you say?”

Daya felt the tips of her ears redden and surreptitiously pulled up her hood.  

“I’d like that,” she said finally, and returned the smile.

Asra grinned up at Muriel. “Come on. Come join us.”

Muriel glanced down at the two of them; at Asra’s arm around her. He shook his head.

Asra looked confused.

“Why not?” he asked. “Daya doesn’t mind...do you?”

She did mind a little, but it felt rude to say. “No, of course not!”

“Too many people,” Muriel grunted, his gaze fixed on the ground. “I want to go.”

“Alright,” Asra said, though he looked disappointed. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

Without another word Muriel turned and shuffled back down the alley, further into the darkness.

Daya frowned. “Is he...okay?”

Asra stared after Muriel as his footsteps faded. Then he sighed and turned back to her.

“He’ll be alright,” he said. “The crowds are hard enough for him, but...I think seeing the Count really scared him.”

“What could the Count of Vesuvia possibly want with him?”

“It’s a long story, and..it’s not really mine to tell.” Asra looked into her eyes. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see him again at home. In the meantime, we have the whole day to ourselves. We should enjoy it.”

Asra led her back into the market. Count Lucio was long gone; the crowds had returned with more volume than ever. Sun had broken through the clouds, streaming onto upturned faces and making the canal waters glitter.

“You should stay close,” he said into her ear. “I don’t want to lose you.”

He took her hand. There went her heart again, skipping a beat at the warmth of Asra’s fingers. His grip tightened and their fingers entwined, and her heart thundered in their ears.

She had missed his little touches. There was something different about them now, but perhaps that was what happened after she hadn’t seen him for eight months. Or perhaps it was something else.

She didn’t particularly feel comfortable thinking too much about that. Not until she was sure what this meant.

Asra smiled at her, caught in a sunbeam that lit up his skin in shades of gold.

“No Faust today?” Daya said hopefully, if only to distract from her blushing face.

He shook his head. “She sleeps a lot this time of year. Winter makes her grumpy.”

The people began to thin out gradually as they walked, but their hands remained entwined. Not that she was complaining. Quite the opposite.

“I used to live in this district,” Daya said, as their footsteps echoed down another little side street.

“Oh?” Asra said. “Huh, I guess I thought you always lived at the shop.”

“No, the shop has always belonged to my aunt. My parents had a house around here, but it’s probably gone now. When they died, she took me in.”

Daya remembered the day vividly: her aunt’s voice as she packed mementos into a box. The numbness that overtook her mind, dispersing the heavy sadness in her stomach...leaving only an ache to feel something; anything. Her aunt’s hand in hers as they left the house behind, with only a box of objects and a bag of clothes. Everything else had to be burned.

The sting of air hit Daya’s face, whipping the curls out of her eyes. She breathed in deep and sighed at the salty smell.

“You’re bringing me to the docks,” she said in delight.

“Sort of,” Asra replied, but he didn’t elaborate--only quickened his pace.

They followed the canals as they began to widen and spread farther apart, and the buildings grew shabbier. Quick, then quicker they walked--then trotted--then finally ran, laughing into the chilled wind.

“This way!” Asra shouted, and pulled his hand away. He surged ahead, boots pounding on the boardwalk. Heart hammering, Daya followed.

The wind whipped at her thick clothes, tearing the breath from her lungs, but it was sunny and fresh and wonderfully briny air. Before them the Vesuvian bay opened up to clear waters; the silhouettes of fishing boats showed hazy against the horizon.

Was he going to jump into the water, Daya wondered suddenly--then with a laugh he leapt off the pier and vanished.

Daya skidded to a halt, almost falling over the edge in her haste. “Whoa!”

“Down here!” came Asra’s voice from below.

Cautiously she sat and swung her legs over the edge, crying out as a hand grabbed her ankle--then his face appeared by her boot, grinning mischievously.

“Did I startle you, Daya?”

“That is not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.” He held out his hands. “Come on. You trust me, don’t you?”

Daya rolled her eyes, but let him help her down.

Underneath the docks it was dark, cold, and the air smelled strongly of brine and rotting fish. Asra’s arms lingered around her waist for a few seconds longer. He was so close; enough to see the curl of his white eyelashes on his cheek.

“Can you feel that?” he whispered.

Daya closed her eyes and cast out her senses.

At first it was a little whisper at the edge of her awareness, like a breath ghosting over her skin. Then a bloom of light; orange and purple and blue, swirling in ephemeral colours.

She opened her eyes and squinted. There was a glowing outline in the air before them, shaped like an arch similar to the ones in the marketplace. It was impossible to see beyond the entrance to the room beyond. Only a mass of swirling colours and light.

“You found it!” Asra said, laughing. “You’re amazing, Daya. I knew you could do it.”

He moved away from her and headed for the glowing doorway. When he stood before it, he glanced over his shoulder and beckoned her.

Daya didn’t move.

“Asra…places like this are dangerous.”

He paused, blinking at her from under his curls, then smiled. “You’re right, but you don’t have to worry. I made this place.”

She gave him a puzzled look. “I thought you lived with Muriel.”

“Now I do...but when I was younger, I didn’t have anywhere to live. So I created this place.” Asra held out his hand, his eyes warm. “I promise it’s safe. I would never put you in danger.”

Daya hesitated, but his smile was so encouraging she found herself drawn back to him, taking his hand.

The tinkling of bells greeted her as they stepped through the entrance. A warm wall of air rushed over her, pulling the damp and chill from her bones. And beyond that...it looked like a little cave. Shifting colours wandered lazily across the walls, like reflections on water, but it was dry and warm inside. Daya spotted a few familiar drapes and tent poles leaning against the wall, and grinned.

Asra put down his bag and flopped onto a layer of worn blankets and furs, spreading his skirt around him. His eyes followed her movement around the cave as she wandered, picking up little trinkets cluttered on the rock shelves. Seashells, driftwood, some dusty bottles that smelled like myrrh and lavender.

“One of my fathers was a sailor, you know,” Daya said idly. Her fingers brushed over a piece of glass, worn smooth by the sea. “He was from Macawi Port. He came to town for a job one day and met my Apa on the docks. Never went back.”

With the trinkets examined, Daya sat down across from Asra. He laid his head on his knees and watched her, blinking like a contented cat.

“Your aunt said your Apa was a magician too, wasn’t he?”

“Mm-hm. He had a talent for water magic. He loved the sea...which I suppose is why Dad loved him so.”

Her voice faltered into silence. Five years had dulled the pain of her fathers’ loss somewhat, but it hurt to think about them for too long.

Asra’s hand brushed over hers, and she tensed.

“You okay?”

Daya stuttered, caught between honesty and embarrassment at her sudden vulnerability.

“Ah, I’m…” she trailed off, paused, then began again. “I’m just unsure what we’re doing right now. What this means. Or ...I suppose what this even is.”

His eyes were bright with curiosity. “What do you want it to be?”

Daya rested her hands on her knees and dropped her gaze.

“Putting it all on me, huh?” she muttered, and he laughed softly. “If I saw you more than once or twice a year, it would make this a lot easier. I wish...”

Asra moved a little closer, blinking in the dim light. “What do you mean?”

She couldn’t look at him, however much of a coward it made her feel. “Ah, I think it would be easier to figure out how I feel, or...even to explain it. Listen,” she added, and glanced up at him. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Asra looked puzzled. “Do you have to ask? Of course we are.”

Her heart was still pounding, and the room was suddenly a little too warm. Daya unwound her scarf and piled it in her lap, then took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

She wasn’t a coward. She wasn’t. She knew how she felt; she’d known it for a long time. Saying it out loud was just one more step. A leap off a cliff into the unknown, but--

“Daya?”

Daya’s eyes opened, her ears burning.

“Sometimes I think about you,” she said hurriedly, before she could talk herself out of it. “Not as a friend, as--as more than that.” Asra’s eyes widened, his lips parting in surprise, and she swallowed. “I don’t know how to explain it. And even if we can’t--if you don’t want to--I still want to see more of you.”

“You...think about me?” he said, half to himself.

“Of course I do.” She gave an embarrassed laugh, but he was already unfolding himself and moving closer. Her blood quickened; his lovely eyes caught hers in an expression she couldn't quite identify. His voice, already soft, was barely above a whisper.

“I think about you too.”

Her breaths came in quick bursts; her skin sang with how close he was now. Her cheeks were so red she could all but feel the heat coming off them.

Asra planted one hand on the other side of her folded legs. The other he kept resting on hers, thumb rubbing across her knuckles. He leaned forward, ever closer, and some part of her noticed his breathing quicken. She closed her eyes as his lips pressed against hers, soft and warm; enough to make the pulse thunder in her ears.

“Asra,” she breathed when they broke apart, and he laughed at the disbelief and surprise in her expression. “I...uh..happy birthday to me?”

Asra’s laughter tickled her cheek. He sat back on his haunches, smiling brilliantly at her. He was flushed, his eyes glittering, his curls a little tousled from the wind. He looked so carefree and alive she couldn’t help but draw forward for another kiss, soft and full of feeling.

“You’re so sweet,” he said against her lips, before punctuating his words with another kiss.

Daya had to laugh, breathless and high-pitched. “Sweet? Me?”

“You,” Asra murmured. His warm hands combed through her hair, pushing her purple-black curls from her eyes. “Yes, you.”

~oOo~

Daya arrived home just on sunset; still with swollen lips, red cheeks and a heart so light she could have floated away.

She paused on the step to rearrange her clothes and pat down her unruly hair. A few hours of kissing Asra had left her a little disheveled; knowing her aunt she would pick up on the slightest sign of mischief, as she liked to call it.

She hadn’t wanted to leave him, even if the cave had grown uncomfortably warm after a while. But he would see her again soon, he promised, after leaving her at the docks.

This was the start of something new and exciting. She knew it in her heart.

“Oh, come on! You pulled that card on me last time, too. No tricks!”

Daya opened the door to a raised voice that struck her with a sudden sense of deja vu. Next came her aunt’s reply, rich and smooth with none of her usual warmth.

“I don’t control the cards. This is the reading you asked for, and as I reminded you, the cards do not lie. Even to you, milord.”

“Excuse me?! Do you know who I am?”

“I have not forgotten, milord.”

She closed the door and the voices fell silent. Seconds later the backroom curtain swept aside and Tilaya entered the shop. Daya caught sight of blonde hair and a cold eye before the curtain fell back into position.

“There you are,” Tilaya said, a little breathlessly. The colour was high on her cheeks; she looked angry and fearful, and the expression made Daya instantly anxious. “Go on upstairs now. I’m doing one more reading.”

“A customer? Is that--”

“Upstairs, child.” Her aunt’s eyes widened for emphasis. “Go.”

Only when Daya disappeared halfway up the stairwell did the voices begin again. She shivered at the faint rumble of conversation below her...but before long, thoughts of Asra chased away the lingering memory of the fear in her aunt’s eyes.

[izarmendi-blog]

Chapter 13: Catalina

Sangria wine was definitely not Catalina’s favorite drink. She hadn’t liked it all that much to begin with, but after last year, she didn’t really care for it, even though she still found herself sipping on the glass her friends poured for her. After all, a free drink was a free drink. Apparently, though, her friend Arjun guessed how she felt about the wine, or maybe just saw the face she made when she tasted it, because he quickly started laughing.

“Hey, Cat, do you even remember the trip up to the castle last year?” This caused the others to laugh as well.

Cat knew exactly what they were giggling about -- the year before, when they’d gotten into the carriage, an older Larix student had bet Cat that she couldn’t drink the entire bottle of sangria by herself in the time it took to get to New Meridian. She’d proved him wrong, and earned herself five British Galleons on the bet, although she had apparently developed something of an aversion to the drink as a result.

She rolled her eyes at Arjun’s question, although she was laughing along with the others. “Of course I do. This stuff isn’t strong enough to make me black out. Besides, how could I forget watching those Sorbus students scare the shit out of you?” This caused everyone else to erupt into laughter again, and she could barely hear Arjun’s indignant response.

The rest of the ride passed the same way, with all of them joking around and just enjoying being back on Isla de Ozuna. When they finally reached New Meridian and stepped out of the gondola, Cat took a deep breath of the fresh air, enjoying the warmth, even at this time of the night. It was winter in Argentina right now, and while it never got that cold, she definitely missed the summer weather. She wished they could linger more in New Meridian, but unless she wanted to join a tour of first years, it was a much better option to head straight to Izarmendi. Plus, she was pretty tired, and the first few days were always hectic. So she and her friends headed up to the castle, soon having to split up to go to their respective dormitories.

“Wish me luck,” she sighed dramatically as she headed towards to the Larix common room. “Hopefully Her Holiness won't try to put me through a twelve-step program on the first night this year.”

After drinking the sangria last year, Catalina had stumbled her way up to her room to find that she had a new roommate, one Brynlee Morrison. Brynlee was highly religious, and, apparently, didn't like the idea of Cat drinking at all, much less getting drunk on the first night. Cat was sat down for a nice, long lecture about how her 'body was a temple’ and that she had 'disappointed God’, or something like that. While she tuned out after the first thirty seconds, it didn’t really matter, because she got similar lectures for just about anything fun she did after that. First it was her tattoos, then it was having premarital sex, and then it was going out in too short of a skirt (which, really, wasn’t even that short, at least not by Cat’s standards, although Brynlee said it made her look like a harlot). The whole year turned into a battle of wills, with Cat doing anything and everything to prove she didn’t give a crap about whatever sinning she was doing, and Brynlee doing whatever she could to convert her. Considering, by the end of it, Brynlee was reduced to just giving silent, disapproving looks any time Cat walked in the room, she’d say she won, but she wasn’t looking forward to dealing with all of it again.

That’s why she was pleasantly surprised to open the door to her room, and see no sign of Brynlee’s blonde figure or her belongings. Instead, her eyes landed on another familiar face, one she’d looked for on the Carpathia but hadn’t been able to find.

“Daya?” she asked. She and Dayana Rojas had known each other back at Castelobruxo, and had gotten into Izarmendi together. They’d always been good friends, but being at a top-secret school together had just made them even closer, especially when they couldn’t tell any of their old friends about it.

Dayana’s face lit up with a grin as soon as she saw Cat. “Lina!” she squealed, rushing to the door and wrapping her up in a hug. While still confused, Cat laughed, hugging Daya back with the same enthusiasm.

“Hey!” she greeted, holding onto her for a few more moments before pulling back to look at her. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s great to see you, but what are you doing in my room?”

“Our room,” Daya corrected, the grin not budging. “I don’t know what happened, but they told me my room had changed and sent me here. I didn’t know you were going to be my roommate!”

Cat took a moment to process the information, and then she was beaming at her friend. “Really? Bitch-lee must have dropped out or requested a room change or something,” she laughed.

Soon, they were chatting as they unpacked their things, discussing what they’d done over break, how they thought the year would be, what classes they were taking. Cat couldn’t believe her luck that she no longer had to deal with her horrendous roommate, and instead got to live with one of her best friends. It was like someone had answered her prayers, the irony of which made her snicker quietly to herself. Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

[lesbianarcana]

Luceo non Uro - Chapter 2

conjunctis viribis (with connected strength)

Relationships: Asra/Apprentice

Rating: Mature

| Read on Ao3 |

~

It was a whole year before they saw each other again.

Following the Masquerade, the rest of the year passed quicker than Daya thought possible--perhaps quicker than they would have liked. During the day they served customers at the shop; an endless routine of describing the properties of newt flesh and meadowsweet, selling pep-up potions and reading tea leaves. At night they studied the Liber Yvonis and practiced spells by candlelight.

The days blurred into weeks, then months. And the months rolled by.

They half-hoped to see him in passing, perhaps set up in one of the markets or in the town square. They’d even looked for him once or twice (as embarrassing as that was to admit)...but between tending the shop and learning magic, there hadn’t been the time to search properly. Then on the first night of next year’s Masquerade, they went out onto the balcony to watch the fireworks--and there, nestled against a stack of empty crates, was the little booth  draped in purple and blue cloths.

Daya leaned over the railing eagerly, almost tipping over in their haste, but there was no light emanating from beneath the drawn cloths. Perhaps he had left for the night...it was well past sunset after all, only a few more hours to midnight. Then the flap opened, twitched aside by a slender brown hand. A head of white hair appeared, gleaming in the moonlight.

“Hey!”

Asra jumped and glanced around, then upwards.

“Remember me?” Daya called. They leaned over further, so the moonlight caught their features. Recognition flashed in his eyes.

“Dayana?”

“Daya, please.”

“Daya, of course. Wow, it’s been a while…”

“It’s been an entire year, give or take.” They leaned their chin on their hand and gazed down. “Here to sell your tricks, fortune-teller?”

“Something like that,” Asra said. He looked pleased to see them, something that made them smile without really knowing why. “Why don’t you come down?”

“As you wish,” Daya said, and swung their legs over the railing. Asra’s expression changed from pleased to alarmed.

“Careful--”

They vaulted off the balcony, and his cry of alarm echoed up and down the street--but instead of falling they floated, drifting on a rush of magic that blew their voluminous skirts in disarray.

Daya landed lightly on the street and promptly burst out laughing at the stunned look on Asra’s face. He began to laugh too, and their combined giggles chased the passing Masquerade revelers up and down the street.

“You’ve learned a few tricks,” Asra said, when they could both breathe again.

Daya nodded, beaming from ear to ear. “The study paid off, as you said. My aunt has me doing some spreads for her customers now, and I’m working on palmistry at the moment. I’m gaining a very particular set of skills.”

“Skills that include leaping off balconies, of course.”

They bowed with a dramatic flourish. “Naturally, but I reserve that for special occasions.”

Asra’s cloak twitched and shuddered, then Faust peeked out from the fabric, her tongue tasting the air.

Daya gasped in delight. “Oh--Faust!”

The snake passed into Asra’s hands and stretched out, her body wavering unsteadily.

“You want to hang with Daya, huh?” Asra said, and stepped closer. “Don’t be afraid if she squeezes you. It’s just her way of showing affection.”

The feeling of Faust’s cool, sinuous body was oddly comforting. Daya let the snake wind herself around their shoulders, and gave her a little stroke under the chin.

“Who’s the best, hm?” they murmured, and they could have sworn the snake looked them right in the eye. “It’s you, of course. You’re the best girl.”

Chuckling, Asra began to untie the drapes that made up his makeshift tent, and Daya moved to help him.

Inside the tent were a few upturned crates covered with thin pieces of fabric, scattered with little trinkets they hadn’t seen before. Sticks of incense in tiny jars, little clay figurines and a selection of delicately crafted masks.

“Did you make these?”

Asra straightened, folding a drape, and his gaze followed theirs. “Yes, sort of. My friend carved and shaped them. I painted them.”

“They’re wonderful,” Daya said honestly, and picked up one in the shape of a lion, complete with a mane of gold chiffon. “This is beautiful work. You should be proud.”

“Ah, I don’t know about that.” He shot them an embarrassed smile. “I just put some paint on them, but I’ll tell my friend you liked the work.”

“Is your friend here too?”

“No, he really doesn’t like the crowds, and it’s hard for him this time of year. All the extra people make him really nervous.” Asra shrugged. “So I come here by myself to sell the things we make.”

“Dayana!”

Asra must have remembered the trouble they’d been in the first time they’d met (they  remembered too; vividly). His mouth twitched into a mischievous grin.

“Are you in trouble again, Daya?”

“No,” they laughed, and took a few steps back--enough to see the dark silhouette of their aunt leaning over the balcony. “I’m here, Aunty!”

“Daya, you left the balcony doors open again!” Tilaya called down. She sounded exasperated, and Daya shot Asra a grin.

“Sorry, Aunty. I’ll be inside in a few minutes, I promise.”

“Two minutes, and not one second late! Dinner is almost ready.”

The doors closed, and their aunt’s footsteps faded. Asra grinned.

“What was that about being in trouble?”

“Very funny. Hurry up so we can go inside and eat.”

Asra’s eyes widened. “Oh, I didn’t expect to--”

“I know you didn’t,” Daya said, and began to fold another drape. “I’m inviting you. Besides, if my aunt knew I had let you go home hungry, she’d be very cross. So really, you’d be doing me a favour.”

“Of course,” Asra said seriously, but his eyes were dancing. “Well, if I’m doing you a favour, then I suppose we should hurry up.”

The downstairs lanterns were still lit when Daya ushered him through the back door and into the little side room. Asra glanced around curiously, taking in the draped table and the worn velvet seats. The furniture took up nearly the entire room, as well as a pair of heavy curtains that separated it from the next room.

Daya propped the tent poles up on the wall and gestured for him to pass over the folded drapes.

“This is where my aunt does her readings,” they said. “Your things will be safe here, I promise.” They brushed past him, tied back the heavy curtains and waved him into the shop proper. “Come see the shop before we eat.”

Asra’s eyes went immediately to the glass cabinet, which wasn’t unexpected--it was long enough to take up most of the shop front, and glittered all sorts of tantalising colours in the lantern light. He wandered over to it and peered down at the displays.

“Rose quartz,” he noted, as Daya stood behind the cabinet. “Citrine, and that looks like...hematite.”

He inhaled deeply and they mimicked him, knowing what he would smell--dried herbs, books, tea and a thick, latent energy that permeated the very walls.

“You know,” he said. “I think I’ve been here before, a long time ago.”

“Oh?”

“My parents were magicians, too. I seem to remember accompanying them to a place like this.” Asra looked away, towards one of the bookshelves on the opposite wall. Daya could almost picture him as a child, staring at the glass displays with wide-eyed curiosity while his parents haggled prices in the background.

He hadn’t mentioned his parents at all before, but it wasn’t like they knew each other that well.  Perhaps he had lost them; that would explain the great loss the cards had spoken of. Then Tilaya’s voice floated from upstairs, calling their name, and a rich, savoury smell reached their nostrils. They packed away their curiosity. It was none of their business, after all.

Daya took the stairs two at a time and skidded breathlessly into the kitchen, where their aunt was supervising a large pot on the stove.

“Hi, Aunty. I brought a friend for dinner, just so you know. Hope we have enough--”

Aunt Tilaya turned on the spot, wooden spoon in hand. Dark red curls peeked out from her head scarf, plastered to her temples with sweat from standing so near to the stove. Her amber eyes narrowed in an expression of annoyance--then widened.

“Dayana Firestone. Is that a snake?”

They’d forgotten Faust was still hanging around her shoulders, her tongue tasting the air.

“Um...yes? But she’s not my snake. She’s--”

A few tentative footsteps and Asra’s head appeared in the stairwell. Tilaya recovered quickly, pressing the spoon into Daya’s hand and hurrying to greet him.

“And who is this?”

“That’s Asra,” Daya called from the kitchen as they extinguished the fire. “He’s my new friend.”

Asra smiled, and extended his hand. “Good evening.”

Tilaya pressed his hand between hers and gave him a swift, searching look. Then she smiled, warm and open.

“You look familiar,” she said. “Have you been here before? I think I would remember a person with your aura...you’re a powerful one, my word. Sit, sit.”

“I was just saying to Daya that your shop seems familiar too,” Asra replied, and sat in the chair she pulled out for him. “I must have come here with my parents.”

“If they were magicians like you, then they must have. Now, I hope you’re hungry.” Tilaya jerked her head at Daya, who emerged from the kitchen with two steaming bowls. “This child sprung your company on me at the last minute, but we have plenty to share.”

Asra shot a grin at Daya over their aunt’s shoulder, and they had the grace to look sheepish.

“Aunty makes the best stew, and it has everything in it.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me, child,” Tilaya said, but she was smiling.

Daya set one of the bowls before Asra, then the other before their aunt. “Meat, vegetables, rice, seafood...it’s an all-in-one. And it’s spicy. Hope you can handle spicy.”

In truth, Daya had an ulterior motive for bringing Asra to dinner besides feeding him: their aunt was a talker with a knack for coaxing people to open up. It was part of what made her so sought after as a fortune-teller. People from all over town came to her not just for simple fortunes, but for her counsel as well. If anyone could get Asra to open up a little, it would be her.

“This is the fortune-teller who’s been bringing curious customers to our shop for the last two Masquerades, Aunty.” Daya gently gathered up Faust and returned her to Asra’s cloak, before retrieving their own bowl and sitting next to their aunt.

Tilaya looked at him with renewed interest and paused with her fork halfway to her mouth.

“So,” she said, with a satisfied smile. “You’re the one who’s responsible for my influx of customers. And you tell fortunes! I can see why my Daya likes you.”

Daya blushed furiously and gave their aunt a surreptitious glare. “I’m happy I could help,” Asra said seriously, though his expression was amused.

The stew disappeared rapidly between them. Through Tilaya’s gentle questioning they learned Asra lived with his friend on the outskirts of town, and that he had lost his family when he was younger. That all but confirmed they had been the great loss spoken of by the cards, and Daya felt a little guilty for bringing such a private thing to light--especially when they had been strangers at the time. They couldn’t exactly say so without intruding further, but…

“I lost my parents too.”

They could reciprocate, at least.

Asra’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly as they spoke into the silence. Daya’s fingers twisted around their fork, dropping their gaze. With a click of her tongue Tilaya wrapped an arm about them and pulled them close, pressing her lips to the top of their curly head.

Asra said nothing, but he didn’t need to. His look spoke volumes.

“It wasn’t so long ago,” their aunt said, her voice hushed. Daya kept their gaze down, blinking furiously. “Just under two years now. Though of course, the passing of time doesn’t make the loss of any less importance.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Daya squirmed, but let Asra’s sympathy wash over their. Turnabout was fair play, after all.

“Thank you. Losing family is hard.” Tilaya released Daya and chucked them under the chin, her eyes affectionate. “Daya came to live with me after it happened. It was a great loss, but...I’m still given a blessing. The opportunity to teach this treasure everything I know--everything their Apa didn’t have the time to teach them.” She stood and began to gather their bowls and forks, waving Daya away as they moved to help. “Go entertain your guest.”

There was a moment’s silence, punctuated by the clink of dishes and Tilaya’s humming. Then Daya leaned their chin on their hands and smiled brightly at Asra.

“What did you think of the stew?”

“It was delicious.” His fingers scritched Faust under the chin. “I...I should leave soon. Muriel...my friend will be expecting me back.”

Disappointment must have soured their expression, for Asra smiled at them. “Did you want to practice on me again?”

“I can do actual readings now, thank you very much,” they retorted, and stood. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

The lanterns downstairs brightened with a flick of their fingers as they headed down the stairs. The smell of the stew lingered, blending with the warmth of the energy pulsating off the walls.

“Come into my lair,” Daya said, waving him towards the backroom, and he giggled. “Come, come, my hapless querent. Ask the Arcana to read your fortune….”

“Do you put on this act for all of your customers?”

“No,” they laughed. “Well, maybe. My aunt says it’s as much about an air of mystery as the actual reading. I’m about as mysterious as...well, I don’t know. Not very mysterious, I’m afraid.”

This time when they touched the deck there was no rush of magic, and the lantern stayed lit--but a faint whisper brushed by their ear, making them jump, and the cards hummed under their fingers.

“They recognise your aura,” Asra observed. He watched with interest as they shuffled; he sat next to them rather than across the table, so he could watch their movements.

“The archetype reading.” Daya laid out five cards, and his eyebrows rose. “The five aspects of the self. The persona, the shadow, the opposite energies, the heart’s desire.”

Asra’s eyes lidded; a smirk played around his mouth, but he said nothing.

They flipped the first card.

“The Magician.”

Asra stilled. His eyelids fluttered, and he leaned forward slightly. “And? What does the card say?”

Daya passed their hand over the card and calmed their breath. In the silence they felt it--a faint whisper against her ear; the answering echo of their own intuition.

“Aside from the obvious? It means you’re in control of your own path, your own desires. Didn’t I pull this card for you the last time?”

“You did,” Asra replied. He stared at the card thoughtfully.

“It meant something different. Today it means you identify most with this archetype. He’s part of the self you present to the world, how you like to be perceived.”

They opened their eyes and cast him a quick glance, but his expression was neutral. So they turned over the second card.

“Temperance, reversed.”

“Whaaat,” Asra said, under his breath, and Daya laughed.

“Temperance is my aunt’s favourite card,” they said. “Reversed, it indicates you react with extreme measures in a crisis. It’s...well, it can be interesting to think about, the lengths you might go to protect someone you cared about. What you would do, or wouldn’t do.”

They tapped the card thoughtfully. Asra caught their eyes again, opened his mouth to speak.

“Don’t worry,” Daya added, and he fell silent. “You don’t have to tell me. Something to think about, at least.” Without waiting for a response they flipped the third card. “The Ace of Cups. This is...a good card. It means when you love, you love honestly and deeply.”

Asra smirked. “Is that a surprise to you, Daya?”

“No. But you clearly do work on maintaining that air of mystery.” Asra gave them a little teasing nudge, and they laughed.

“Don’t act like you don’t know, fortune-teller,” they said, eyebrows raised. “You charmed my aunt, but you can’t fool me. I see you.”

Asra said nothing, but his smile brightened. Laughing, Daya turned over the fourth card.

“The Queen of Pentacles. Someone solid and grounded. Reliable.”

“I’m sure my friend doesn’t think so right now.”

The last card lay between them. Daya flipped it reluctantly, knowing this meant the end of their evening.

“The--huh. The Lovers.”

Asra’s eyes widened, and to their surprise a blush began to bloom across his cheeks. “The Lovers?”

“It’s not that literal,” Daya said hastily. Their cheeks burned with heat, and silently she thanked the darkness of their skin for hiding the worst of it. “It can mean the desire for partnership and connection. It’s a good card. It means you want to reach out to other people. Anyway, why am I explaining this? You already know that.”

They expected Asra to give some teasing remark in reply, but he was oddly quiet as they stacked the deck and gave it back to him.

“Well? How did I do?”

Asra stared down at the deck in silence. As the seconds crawled by Daya thought perhaps they had offended him in some way. Then he passed his hand over the cards and they vanished.

“You’ve improved so much, Daya,” he said, and looked up at her. “And beyond that...you have a knack for seeing people.”

“I see you.”

A quick breath drawn in through parted lips--then Tilaya’s voice reached them from the stairwell.

“Daya! Asra! Where are you two?”

They emerged from the back room to find Tilaya descending the stairs. In one hand she clutched a battered old broom; in the other a little wrapped ceramic pot.

“There you are,” she said. “Good, you haven’t left yet. Here, this is for you--” she handed Asra the pot, and Daya the broom. “--and this is for you.”

Asra looked startled, but quickly recovered. “Thank you, Aunt.”

“How come Asra gets leftovers and I get sweeping duty?” Daya complained.

Tilaya gave them a gentle pinch on the cheek. “Because Asra is my guest, and you are my apprentice. Where are your manners, child? And don’t you give me that look. I know you were flexing that sense of humour.”

Grinning, Daya took the broom and tucked it in the crook of their arm. Tilaya smiled at Asra.

“Don’t be a stranger now,” she said. “I’ll be wanting to know what your friend thinks of my stew. And I know my Dayana will want you to visit, too.”

With a pat to Asra’s shoulder, Tilaya turned and went back upstairs. Daya waited for the sound of her swishing skirt to fade, then turned back to Asra with an embarrassed smile.

“Well, there you have it,” they said. “You have to visit so my aunt can embarrass me some more. It’s her favourite pastime.”

“Daya…” Asra paused, biting his lip, as if trying to find the words. Then he pulled them into a quick hug. “Thank you.”

“Nonsense.” They reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Just promise it won’t be an entire year before we see each other again.”

“I will.” He gave them a small smile, and clutched the pot close to his chest. “I will see you soon. You can hold me to that.”

[starsandmaple]

Dances and Drafts, Chapter 5 - Excuses

Synopsis:

It is 1977 and the Triwizard Tournament has come to Hogwarts. As the school prepares for its first Yule Ball in two-hundred years, Lily Evans finds herself completely put off going thanks to a certain toerag, and Severus Snape too shy to even consider attending. Can a cunning plan change that?

Notes:

I do not own these characters or anything deriving from the Harry Potter universe. All of that comes from the lovely J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Insert obligatory joke about being broke.

Excuses

That night after dinner Lily found herself staring up at the ceiling of her dorm room deep in thought, a sense of melancholy hovering over her.

What the heck is going on with me?

The Yule Ball was just two days away and it was all anyone in Gryffindor could talk about. Who was going with who, who was wearing what, what the ball itself might be like…

Something that Lily had picked out from the conversations as she passed through the common room on her way up to the dormitories was that James had asked someone other than her to the ball.

“So James finally got himself a date,” Lily had overheard one of the Gryffindor girls gossiping.

“Oh! Who is it?!” asked another girl eagerly, Lily had slowed her walking so that she might hear more of the conversation, the first girl shook her head.

“All I heard was that she asked him the other day but he turned her down,” she lowered her voice slightly, as if this news – which by now would be common knowledge – was some sort of juicy gossip “It sounds like he thought it through and asked her himself today, of course she said yes. I mean as a champion he has to have a partner doesn’t he and it’s getting down to the wire so what else was he going to do?” the two girls giggled at the extremely back-handed comment.

Jealousy, Lily thought whilst simultaneously feeling a wave of relief wash over her as she climbed the stairs of the tower.

Now that she was alone in the dorm with just her thoughts to keep her company, however, she felt a little bit… Empty.

She turned in her bed onto her side.

Was it because she wouldn’t have the pleasure of dealing with James Potter for the next couple of days before the ball? No, that wasn’t it…

If she were honest with herself, she might even admit that she was feeling a little left out.

This is why I don’t want to go to the stupid ball anyway.

At that thought, her fellow Gryffindor 7th year girls burst into the room, giggling.

“Hey Lily,” one of them called out to her,

“Oh, hey Dayana,” Lily acknowledged her friend, a tall girl with long, mousy-brown hair and cat like features. Dayana came to sit next to Lily on her bed, every so often popping a Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Bean into her mouth. Lily shifted up to give her some more room.

“Do you have everything ready for the ball Saturday?” Lily had counted the total of 10 seconds that it took for the subject of the ball to be brought up.

“Um, I’m not actually sure I’m going,” Lily replied.

“What?! But Lily everyone is going,” Dayana was completely taken aback by Lily’s response, so much so that she threw her hands up in surprise, causing a few of her Every-Flavour Beans to spill out onto the floor with a soft rattle.

“Yea, I know bu-“

“And you’re already here, you have zero excuses not to go,”

“Yes, but I jus-“

“And it doesn’t matter that you have no one to go with, I mean plenty of people are going alone and there are always the students from the other schools who I’m sure would dance if you asked them once you were there,” Dayana wasn’t listening to anything Lily was trying to say, she was far too caught up in the excitement for the ball.

Maybe this was it, the reason that she didn’t want to go. Everyone had become so absorbed in everything to do with this Yule Ball that Lily was sick of it, it was all anyone could talk about. It had been going on since the ball had been announced at the end of November. It had even interfered partly with their lessons as special dance rehearsals had been scheduled around their NEWTs, something which Lily had openly objected to as Head Girl, though the faculty, particularly Professor McGonagall, had insisted it was necessary for the students of the hosting school to present themselves well at the ball.

This could also be why she had been enjoying her alone time with Severus so much over the past few days. Not only was he her best friend and just generally comfortable for her to be around but working on the potions together had given her mind a rest from everything Triwizard Tournament.

“Oh!” a lightbulb suddenly seemed to go off over Dayana’s head, “Why don’t you ask that Snape boy?” she asked, as if she had been working very hard on her occlumency.

“W-what?” Lily had been caught off-guard.

“Well I mean,” Dayana paused between beans, “he’s always seemed a bit” Dayana paused, choosing her next work carefully “weird, and I don’t know him very well, not to mention he’s in Slytherin but you two are really close aren’t you? Everyone’s talking about the study dates you guys have been having since the end of term, why don’t you two go together?” Dayana winked suggestively at her friend and Lily responded with an exaggerated sigh.

Though Lily very much doubted that everyone had been talking about them considering how much the Yule Ball had been dominating everyone’s conversations this past week, it came as no surprise that Potter hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut about Peter catching her and Severus in the potions lab.

Dayana was looking at her expectantly.

“I, er, I hadn’t thought about it,” Lily replied honestly. Dayana rolled her eyes in response.

“You mean you haven’t noticed the way that boy has been looking at you since, well, always?”

“What do you mean?” Lily was beginning to see where Dayana was going with this, but wasn’t sure she was ready to acknowledge it.

“Oh wow Lily, for top of our year you sure are dense sometimes,” Dayana shook her head and smiled, “Right! I’m going to bed. See you in the morning Lily!”

“Yea, goodnight Dayana,” Lily said quietly as Dayana moved over to her own bed and drew the curtains with a wave of her wand. Lily drew her own curtains closed, but it was a while before she found sleep.