partially-stars
mostly void
The tension and awkwardness between Georgie and Erin was palpable and somewhat entertaining to the onlookers. The confident woman that had walked Tig back to meet her friends seemed to have vanished, replaced by somebody quiet and almost nervous. Tig knew she’d be pestering Jessie and the twins for more information later. And then Erin made a comment in response to Georgie saying Luc had been hurt. Something about… blood purity? She frowned, her stomach twisting painfully. It came with a flash of a memory. Back when she was still trying to get used to her grandmother’s house and when she was still left unattended for far too long, she would occupy her time exploring the big old house. She’d heard a conversation that hadn’t made much sense to her at the time. She hadn’t heard the term mudblood before that. They were talking about getting rid of it for good. Tig, in all of her childhood innocence, had thought they were talking about a dirty carpet or something that had mud and blood on it. She shook her head slightly. No. No, it couldn’t have been. Her family were awful people, and she couldn’t even remember the conversation properly. It had to just be a coincidence.
At the mention of fireworks, Nova’s whole demeanour lit up. She whirled around to Georgie as her three friends chimed in to ask if they could say. Georgie looked lost in thought, but there was something in her expression that made Nova wonder if she was thinking about more than just the fireworks. But Georgie was good at never giving too much away, and soon, her expression morphed into a caricature of thinking, followed by a melodramatic sigh and eye roll. “Okay, fine,” she relented, before grinning. “Let me go back and talk everyone else into this. If nothing else, I’ll see if I can’t get permission for you kiddos to stay along with me, Markus, and Luc. I’ll be back soon, ‘kay?” She headed back in the direction she came, and the others turned to look at Erin.
“So were the Magpies just really sure they were going to win, seeing as you guys went ahead and organised fireworks?” Eden asked with a grin. “Or are you going to write it off as just being good sportspeople?” Nova rolled her eyes.
Spot the Slytherin, always convinced there’s a meaning behind every action,” she teased. Eden pouted in response.
“To be fair, that’s more of an “Eden looking for the gossip and potential blackmail material” thing than it is specifically a Slytherin thing,” Tig added. Eden gave a nod of assent. They’re like a bloodhound. They get a whiff of drama? They will follow it to its roots. It’s actually really impressive.”
“It’s my superpower,” Eden added with a beaming smile. “And the more somebody doesn’t want me to look into it, the more I’m going to look.”
“I’m sure Salazar Slytherin would be proud of you, you know. Once he got over the whole… halfblood thing. And the you-wearing-skirts-to-Potions-to-give-the-dickhead-professor-a-heart-attack thing. He’d be proud in his own weird way.” Tig had to reach up a little to rest an arm on their shoulder, but she was so used to doing it that the movement still looked perfectly natural.
“Ha, no he wouldn’t. Literally everything about me would give that old bigot multiple heart attacks and that gives me the motivation to keep thriving.” There were a handful of the old breed of slytherins still around, the ones that seemed to genuinely believe they were better by nature of their blood. They hated everyone who wasn’t them, which often included gender and sexuality. And every time Eden walked into the Three Broomsticks and they flinched and averted their gaze, Eden gained another year onto their life.
"So yeah, if you’ve got any secrets to hide, best either know you’re really good at keeping them, or don’t let slip around this gremlin, because they will find it out,” Nova said, ruffling Eden’s hair.