[smgb] don't you know that [darla]

31 december 2001

‘Free’ and ‘alcohol’ had always been two of Edith’s favorite words. The only thing that could make them better was to put them together. Surely @Darla Boyd knew this; she had used the lure of free alcohol to get Edith to agree to this in the first place. And it worked. Any time she had a doubt (which was fairly often), she would just find herself a drink. She needed her hair curled and pinned and sprayed? Drink. Darla wanted to do her makeup (because apparently chapped lips and a persistently tired look weren’t an acceptable formal look)? Drink. Darla didn’t like the dress that Edith had chosen (one left behind in the flat by her elderly muggle roommate) and had insisted on lending out one of hers? Drink. The only concession that Edith had willingly made that evening was to wear a pair of contacts she had received just after Christmas but was still slightly frightened by.

She felt bad about things, of course. Edith had made up for being ungrateful after her arrest already, but just as she had repaired that damage done, Arawn had decided to leave the country. At the time, insisting that she be the one to tell Darla had seemed like a good idea, but then it was just before Christmas and she didn’t want to ruin the holiday. She was sure she was going to keep making up excuses until after her birthday in April, so it was a shock to her just as much as it was to Darla when she told her the news just after returning from Lunt after Boxing Day.

So maybe feeling bad about the Arawn situation factored into her decision to accompany Darla to this ‘grand ball’ (which she couldn’t say without giggling like she had said something mildly dirty) But only a little bit. The free alcohol was what clenched the deal. Naturally, by the time dinner was served (and her eyes had finally adjusted to the overwhelming gold decor on every goddamned surface), Edith was a tiny bit tipsy. By the time the tables had been cleared and desserts had been passed, she was proper watching-a-losing-match plastered.

“You’re really pretty,” Edith stated again, talking over the music, for what might have been the fifth or sixth time that hour. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to make Darla feel better, still trying to make up for that whole pub brawl debacle, or desperately trying to avoid dancing at all costs. She had been drinking gin and tonics, thinking that fit the mood of the evening far more than a nice pint, but she hadn’t adjusted her pace from her beer-drinking one. Darla seemed like she was keeping up, but after a while, Edith was far more focused on her own intake than anyone else’s.

They were still seated at the table, now abandoned by the happier couples that had gone off to dance. Edith had twisted sideways in her chair, resting her head in her hand; her other hand was alternating between lifting her glass to her mouth and tugging down on the hem of her dress every few minutes.

Deòiridh Fionnghuala Boyd was bitter.

It wasn’t like the normally very cheerful and bubbly witch to be so, however recent circumstances got her in a very disagreeable mood. Firstly, Christmas had been quite busy at home, and aside from Bhàtair, everyone else seemed to have some actual purpose with their lives, making Darla quite uncomfortable. She had solely focused on her job and following quidditch events and only when realising that her siblings actually had social lives, Darla realised that perhaps her choices so far hadn’t been the best. For her career, yes, of course, but she couldn’t really recall the actual last time she did something for herself, if she ever did. Thankfully enough, Bhàtair had been in the same situation as her, and for years. At least there was someone who understood her.

And when returning to London from Stornoway, Darla did the most sensible thing back then: signed up to volunteer for the organisation of St. Mungo’s Grand Ball for the New Year’s. It seemed as the most sociable act to do back then and, while busy, she didn’t particularly dislike in helping with the preparations. Of course, the relatively improvement on her mood faded away quickly, as when she first met Edith after Christmas, the other former Gryffindor informed her that Arawn moved to Romania to study dragons. What irked Darla wasn’t particularly the fact that her crush since fourteen had gone to follow his life’s dream and become accomplished and all that amazing stuff, but the fact that he had just casually asked Edith to inform her. Honestly, she wished a dragon would bite Arawn’s arm off, just because of his lack of proper manners. It felt extremely bitter to end her crush like this, however, it was Arawn’s own fault and definitely not hers.

Still, it wasn’t like Darla to let her personal life interfere with her work. Instead, she did the complete opposite: buried herself into work and, of course, bottled up all those feelings, pretending like they didn’t even exist and as if nothing happened. Who was Arawn? She knew no Arawn.

Still, Darla wasn’t exactly prepared to attend St. Mungo’s Grand Ball alone, so she asked Edith to accompany her. Of course, Darla didn’t fail to mention to her friend that there would be free and unlimited alcohol, courtesy to nobody else than the fabulous head healer Varvara Stepanovna Zakharova. She found a completely new kind of appreciation for Varvara, and honestly admired her for coming up with the fountain ideas. For Darla’s current mood, they were probably the best present. Not that the Russian would know, however, the former Gryffindor didn’t fail to praise the decorations upon arriving, in the most sincere way.

Nonetheless, that did not mean that Darla’s mood was actually good. She had stayed at the table the entire evening, enjoying her dinner, and drinking a bit more than usual. It wasn’t perhaps the actual quantity of alcohol that got to her, but the mixture. She combined wine with vodka and with champagne, and simply drank the assortment. Again, and again, and again. It was quite a fabulous mix, however, it was for the first time in forever that Darla actually felt a bit dizzy. Still, she wasn’t as bad as Edith, yet.

Darla giggled as Edith complimented her yet again, for the fifth or sixth time that evening. The healer was sure that her friend was simply trying just to get her feel better, but truthfully, knowing that she was this pretty and that Arawn would never be there to witness it was a bit disappointing. Simply because Darla, out of sheer spite, just wanted him to know exactly what he lost. Forever. She now officially did not want to hear anything about a certain former Hufflepuff. Darla poured more champagne over her red wine, and drank the contents of her glass in one go.

After she placed the glass on the table, Darla glanced at the dance floor, where the happy couples were enjoying their time. She hated them all. Get some rooms, all of you. The former Gryffindor rolled her eyes, before placing her elbow on the table and turning her gaze back to Edith. She had forced her friend there into a lovely dress, and it seemed that the obliviator wasn’t especially enjoying it. However, Edith looked amazing that evening, and Darla was truthfully proud of her accomplishment.

She sighed, one of her golden curls falling from her shoulder, now perfectly complementing her dark green dress’ edge. “You know what.” Darla started, pouring herself more champagne, and later on combining it with some vodka. “I am so over this year. I can’t wait for it to end. New year, new Deòiridh, new beginnings.” She drank the glass yet again in one go, before looking in Edith’s direction again. Her friend, despite her incident with the muggle police, had it so much better than her. A stable job, a social life, a boyfriend, and she was beautiful too. Darla was so proud of Edith, really. The Scottish just simply couldn’t wait until 2002 would come so she herself could have a new beginning already. “How much longer do we have?”

“Fuck 2001,” she agreed, though she silently added that she only wanted to dismiss the parts that weren’t the happy Elias times. Those bits of 2001 had been nice. Those bits could stay. All the others though, that ‘month’ in the Dome, the insomnia and undiagnosed issues that followed, a breakdown, months of radio silence with Elias, slowly hating her job more and more, getting arrested.. those parts could fuck right off.

Darla asked about the time and Edith shrugged after looking down at her bare wrist. “I dunno.” Darla hadn’t let her wear her watch for the evening; apparently repossessed men’s watches didn’t match the vibe of the dress she was wearing. At least she had been allowed to wear her bracelet without any protest, the silver one with the Manchester United charm that Elias had gifted her for her birthday. She turned it around on her wrist absentmindedly, shrugging again as she had no other helpful things to say.

“C’mon, shots,” she stated again, finally pulling Darla up from her seat. At least Darla had allowed Edith to wear flat shoes, or she would have been much less successful in her pulling and drinking ventures. “C’mon,” she said again, grabbing Darla’s hand and leaving the table behind. She pulled her towards the vodka fountain, not minding that she was probably not being polite enough as she pushed her way through the people who had probably donated more money to the hospital than Edith could dream of. They were in her way.

She grabbed two of the icy shot glasses out the air, marvelling at how cool the whole thing was for just a second, before remembering what her ultimate goal was. She filled the glasses to the brim and shoved one into Darla’s hand, not bothering to clink glasses or offer a ‘cheers’ before knocking back what was in her own and going in quickly for a refill. Before walking away, however, she grabbed a third glass and filled that too, so she could leave the fountain with full hands.

They moved off to the side of the room, towards a golden-silk-draped wall, out of the way of the happier people. She sipped at the glass in her right hand before biting her lip. Edith wasn’t usually at a loss for words, but it had been a weird few weeks for them and drinking seemed like their best and safest option. She finished her righthand glass, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I, uh,” she stumbled into her sentence without much forethought. “I think I’m going to move in with Elias.” She shrugged, at least somewhat hopeful that this would thoroughly distract her.

“Fuck 2001.” Darla repeated after Edith, downing an entire last glass of champagne, gin and vodka mixture. She was sure that her friend there was just being nice and agreeing with her just so the healer won’t feel particularly bad about her recent complete and utter disappointment regarding her obviously non-existent love life. Darla knew that Edith was quite pleased with her own life, and she was quite sure the obliviator had it all – a good job, a boyfriend, and maybe a really needed reality check with the recent arrest. However, Darla was certain that Edith would put her bad experience to good use, and didn’t regard it as a particularly bad thing anymore. She was positive this incident would make Edith an even more responsible and level-headed adult.

Proof of that was that her mate actually tried that night, agreed for Darla to make her all pretty, and, of course, the most beautiful piece of evidence of it all was the actual fact that she came with Darla that night, not leaving her alone. Undeniably, Edith might not have had any other plans, however, this former Gryffindor was truly touched by her friend’s gesture, despite the fact that she had bribed her mate with the ‘free alcohol’ factor. Still, Darla was certain that eventually, even without the benefit of alcohol, Edith would have decided to accompany her to the St. Mungo’s ball. She was a good friend. The best friend.

“Shots!” Darla replied cheerfully, although a bit reluctant in regards to getting up from her seat. She was wearing high heels that night, and it had been the worst decision she could’ve made. The young witch didn’t have any kind of practice with walking with heels on, and tonight, especially when she wanted to make a good impression among her colleagues by cleaning up nicely, while it had seemed like a good decision to wear them in order to look nice, her feet were suffering deeply. Which was why she had been basically glued to her chair all night until now, when the idea of shots suddenly felt more appealing than her feet not hurting.

She let Edith pull her towards the vodka fountain – a wonderful idea, really – apologising to each and every person that her friend might have rudely pushed away as they made their way through the crowd. In the end, they were donors and Darla hadn’t sacrificed her free time for nothing. Still, aside from a few ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse us’, the former Gryffindor didn’t bother that much, as her not trying to actually fall while walking was still a top priority.

Reaching the vodka fountain, Darla took the glass Edith offered her, and drank it in one go, later on refilling it three times and continuing her drinking. She refilled her glass a fourth time, but didn’t drink it yet, deciding to save it for later, as she walked besides Edith to a more secluded spot of the room. The amount of cheerful people irked her a bit, however it would look nicely on the organisation committee, which meant also her. It was good for her job, and yet that didn’t make Darla feel any better, just still bitter.

She took a deep breath as she downed the last shot of vodka, placing it on a waiter’s tray as soon as one passed by them. “Hmm?” Darla let out, her full and undivided attention turning to her friend, as she turned her head in Edith’s direction. I think I’m going to move in with Elias. Even if she was slightly dizzy, the wording confused her much more than the news in itself. Darla’s eyes narrowed, not really knowing what she should say – was Edith consulting her whether or not this was a good idea, or was she informing the healer that she already took the decision and would move in with her boyfriend? Either way, it was a wonderful piece of news.

“Edith~” She cooed, pulling her friend into a well-deserved hug. “I’m so proud of you.” She really was. In the end, seeing the girl who made fun of everyone for falling in love actually falling in love herself was a huge sign that Edith was all mature and responsible now. Well, much more than in the past, anyway. “I can’t believe you’ll basically be able to shag at any moment of the day, night, anytime, anyhow, anywhere.” Darla let out a giggle, placing both her hands on Edith’s cheeks. “You minx.”

Edith was almost tempted to tell Darla to slow down, watching in near disbelief as she downed four shots in the time it took her to drink one. But drinky Darla was fun Darla; Edith had only seen it once, but it had been one of their best nights together. Of course, it might have been one of the best because the could only remember about thirty percent of it, but still. It was worth it. Darla had earned this. Or something.

“Ugh, Darla,” she reacted immediately, though she didn’t try to extract herself from the hug. She didn’t return it, though, her arms much more preoccupied with not spilling her one and a half remaining shots of vodka. A nervous laugh escape her lips, somewhere between a gasp and a snort. It was a good thing that Darla couldn’t see the deep shade of red her face had turned as she heard her next bit of congratulations. “We’ll still have to go to work and stuff,” she protested, though she couldn’t deny that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind.

Darla didn’t need to know that now. Edith was still at least two large drinks away from that sort of conversation. Her face was still red when Darla pulled back, but she managed a sort of grin when she cupped her face with her hands. “Gross.” But Darla’s giggle was infectious, and Edith laughed. “G’off my face,” she managed after a few seconds, nudging Darla with her elbow. “Makeup.” She only managed the one word, but she assumed that she knew what she meant: that Darla had spent so long doing Edith’s makeup earlier that it would be a pity to mess it up now.

She got her personal space back (or her face space, at least) and quickly downed another shot, consolidating her full glass into the empty one. Her cheeks were warm, from embarrassment or alcohol she wasn’t sure, and she avoided Darla’s eye for a minute as she considered the remaining shot in her hand. It didn’t last long though, and she finished what vodka she had, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. She glanced down, silently marveling at this magic lipstick Darla had used on her that wasn’t smudging no matter what. Quirking an eyebrow, Edith finally caught her friend’s eye, offering her another smile.

“Guess you should probably meet him, or something,” she mused, shrugging as she slumped back against the wall. She moved to push her glasses up the bridge of her nose, not used to not finding them there. She almost panicked, thinking she had lost them, before realizing she could see perfectly well. False alarm. She shrugged again, bringing her gaze back around to Darla. “He’s pretty, too, y’know.”

Darla giggled as Edith complained about the embrace, yet didn’t push her away. She realised it was also probably because her friend there was still holding some shots of vodka, but truthfully, that wouldn’t have stopped Edith in the past from making her way out of a hug. As the healer let loose of the embrace, she arched her left eyebrow, a bit surprised at how Edith was not denying her future very active erotic life. A mischievous smirk appeared on Darla’s face; she didn’t comment, fully knowing that Edith was aware of the fact that she noticed the lack of denial from her side. Clearly, her friend was going to have some very fun times before and after work and any other time she wasn’t doing ‘stuff’.

The healer gently pinched the Obliviator’s cheeks, at her friend’s reaction to the ‘minx’ attribute. Still, Edith also didn’t deny that one. “Yes, yes, we want you to look all pretty tonight.” The witch retrieved her hands, lowering her gaze to make sure that Edith’s make-up hasn’t ended on her hands. For a moment she had forgotten that she acquired some special make-up from a fancy beauty shop on Diagon Alley, so there was no way ever that this would be removed without the special potion that came attached to the kit. The Scottish sighed, regretting the fact that she didn’t prolong the act of pinching Edith’s face.

She picked up a glass of champagne from a golden tray held by a waiter that passed by, and took a quick sip out of the glass, her gaze moving back towards Edith. Darla smiled back at her friend, and before she could take another sip out of her glass, her eyes widened with shock, curiosity, and obvious excitement. “Omo, omo, omo, omo!” Darla momentarily switched to Korean, not even knowing how to express her current emotional state in anything else but her maternal language. Edith actually wanted to introduce her boyfriend to her? Now that was truly a change, something that would really require the world as she knew ending. It was a good thing 2001 was soon ending then.

The former Gryffindor smiled teasingly, as Edith shrugged rather nonchalantly, trying to play it cool and yet her words betraying her attempt. “Is he now?” Darla asked teasingly, gently nudging Edith’s elbow with her own. “How pretty is he, Edith?” The Scottish arched her eyebrows suggestively, turning on her heel (and successfully not falling, mind you) to properly face her friend again. Darla took a sip out of her champagne, shrugging as she lowered her glass. “On a scale from zero to Dave, how pretty is he?” She teased, yet voiced the question in such a manner to reveal to Edith that she was indeed expecting an answer.

Still, she had to know more.

Of course, Darla was thrilled Edith actually thought a guy other than David Beckham was handsome and that she was so serious about him that they would also move in together. Honestly, Edith actually liking a guy other than Becks was quite the accomplishment. But, Darla had her duty as a best friend. She had to assess how serious Edith was about her boyfriend, in order to properly approve of him, especially since she will have to (finally) meet him.

“Let’s say – “ She started yet again, her tone being a bit more on the serious side this time. “ – they are both about to be eaten by a troll, and you can only rescue one of them. Who would it be? Pretty boy or Dave?” Darla gently titled her head to the side, her left hand wrapping itself around her waist, as with her right hand she held her glass, which was still half-full. Champagne just wasn’t as tasteful unless combined with vodka and gin, unfortunately. The witch smiled, her eyes focused on Edith’s figure. Now, that was a question Darla was quite eager to hear the answer to and would definitely not let Edith live in peace and quiet until she’d get her reply.

“Ugh, Darla,” she waved her hand in her friend’s face as she took a swig from her newly acquired glass of champagne. “It’s not a big deal,” she reassured her, muffling her words as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. If Darla was already this excited, she could only imagine how much she would embarrass her in front of Elias. She didn’t need any help doing that, of course. She took another swallow of champagne to encourage herself to finish her thoughts. “He’s a person, you’re a person, persons meet all the time.” She nodded again, just almost regretting her choice to bring up this subject at all.

“I, uh --” Was she really going to question her word choice now? The whole reason she had brought this up was to keep Darla’s mind off of all of her things. She scrunched up her nose at her before burying her face in her glass again, not willing to dignify that question with an answer. But Darla wasn’t done, and she caught Edith off guard with her next question. She snorted into her glass, feeling the familiar burn of alcohol moving the wrong way through her, and she offered Darla her middle finger.

Of course she knew exactly which Dave she was referring to. Darla was the only other magical person that had been in her childhood bedroom -- well, besides Elias, now -- and she had seen the posters Edith had managed to part with as she left for Hogwarts, even the Beckham poster with all the little hearts added to it.

She didn’t want to tell Darla about those birthday celebrations when, among other things, Elias donned a Beckham jersey simply because she had asked him to. Of course, she had never seen him wear it again but he had also never given it back. Maybe she should check that he hadn’t gotten rid of it. No, she was getting way off track. Never mind that she had found him more attractive in that instant and it might have been the whole reason this whole thing had happened at all.

Shit, no. Darla. She needed to focus on Darla. She refocused her gaze on her friend, ignoring the warmth in her cheeks yet again, silently willing her for a change of subject. Darla started again, sounding much more serious, and Edith was thankful that the topic was dropped. That only lasted for two seconds, however, as she finished her question. Edith’s mouth fell open comically, mock-appalled that she could question Edith’s loyalty to her two favorite people.

“Well,” she said, equally serious. “Does the troll have each of them in one hand? What’s happening here? Why can’t I just knock out the troll and save both?” Edith raised an eyebrow, but could tell from the look on Darla’s face that those clarifications weren’t the point of this question at all. Rolling her eyes, she continued on, sighing dramatically. “Pretty boy,” she nodded, taking a second to realize what she had said and shaking her head. “I mean, Elias.”

She drained her glass and shot her friend a look over the rim. “God, Darla.” Edith traded her empty glass for a full one as a waiter walked by. “I could take out that troll, though. That was such a stupid question.” She rolled her eyes, deciding to keep the very real news about how there had been worse things to deal with in the past than trolls, even though that was near the top of the list of thoughts that had popped into her mind.

Eager once more for a chance to drop the subject completely, Edith motioned vaguely towards the center of the room. “C’mon, I love this song.” She didn’t, actually had no idea what song it was, nor was she particularly gifted when it came to dancing. But she needed to get Darla’s mind off of Arawn and especially off of prying about Elias -- their conversation moments before was cutting things far too close. She grabbed Darla’s hand and made her way through the crowd again, draining her glass once more before making it to the dancefloor.

They graced the edge of the crowd, and just as Edith was gathering courage to start acknowledging the beat of the song with her body, the beat changed, moving into a much slower, much sappier sort of love ballad. “Gross,” was all she could manage to say, before taking a step back from the floor.

Darla rolled her eyes as soon as Edith’s words came out of her mouth.

Her friend’s logic was sane enough, however, she had to admit it was a bit disappointing, particularly in this exciting context. Edith was probably thinking at how Darla would embarrass her in front of her boyfriend – she wouldn’t though. It was one thing talking between the two of them, and another in front of a third party, and a complete stranger to the Scottish to top it all. Darla did feel the need to point it out, however, she decided against it. Surely, Edith was expecting some sort of revenge coming back at her for all the years in which she’s teased Darla about Arawn, and the healer figured to leave it so, enjoying the idea that her friend was having a slight torment within her regarding the matter. Edith having feelings was much more pleasing than anything else, really.

However, the part Korean pondered, having known her for so many years, Edith should be more concerned with whether or not the boyfriend would embarrass her in front of Darla. She didn’t dwell on it, deciding to mock Edith’s tone and choice of words instead. “Fine. He’s just a person. A regular person. Just like me. Not as if I’m your best friend and he’s your boyfriend. No, not at all. Not as if we’re important people in your life. No, no.” She commented, rolling her eyes once more. “He’ll be less to me than one of my patients, if that makes you so happy.” Darla teased, nodding her head in slight disapproval.

Bringing Dave into the discussion had been the best solution to manage to tease Edith even more, yet still not as much as she had done in the past with the healer. The Scottish still had a lot of catching up to do in that area. However, Darla let out a laughter as Edith offered her the middle finger, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly as she took a quick sip out of her champagne glass.

“I think I specifically said that you can only rescue one.” Darla replied on the same serious tone, despite being amused at the way of how Edith tried to bring in logic in a ridiculous problem. It was one of Edith’s characteristics that she deeply enjoyed, in addition to having the same sense of humour. “If you need an entire dissertation on troll behaviour, wrong sibling.” She shrugged yet again, subtly pointing out that she was a healer, and not a magizoologist.

Darla’s eyes narrowed as Edith replied, a bit surprised that her friend didn’t even spend a lot of time thinking about it. For the English to pick another man over David Beckham it was quite the feat; this former Gryffindor was amazed at the boyfriend’s capabilities, in addition to his looks. Considering that Dave was quite handsome, if Edith stated that Elias was pretty, then he had to be fairly aesthetically pleasing, even if just a bit. Still, managing to get Edith to openly state he’s pretty and that she’d prioritise him over Dave was bewildering. For a moment, Darla just couldn’t believe her ears.

She ignored Edith’s comment that she’d be able to take out a troll, just nodding in disapproval once more, as she took yet another quick sip out of her glass. The obliviator mentioned that she liked the song that was playing, and encouraged Darla to go with her on the dance floor. “Wait.” Darla managed to squeal, a bit too late, as her friend grabbed her by the hand as their made their way through the crowd. The witch managed to finish her drink before reaching the dance floor and placed it quickly on a waiter’s tray as they passed by one.

As they reached the edge of the crowd, and were preparing to dance themselves, the beat switched to a much slower tune, a love ballad Darla wasn’t familiar with, even if it seemed that many of the guests enjoyed it, particularly the couples. She took a step back along with Edith, however, her gaze remained on the dance floor, looking at the couples that were enjoying themselves to the nice and slow beat of the tune. Darla lowered her hands, gently wrapping them around her waist.

“Ugh.” She managed to let out, yet not for the same reasons as Edith. Darla didn’t find it gross. At all, actually. Instead, all she could think of when seeing those couples was the she never even had the chance to dance with Arawn. She never had the chance to do anything actually – just when she’d decided to push forward, the wizard decided to move to Romania. It was just so, so frustrating. What was worse, Darla was just frustrated that she was frustrated in the first place.

She sighed, a bit too deeply, a bit too hurt and not as teasingly and playful as before. “I need to absorb all that vodka fountain.” She stated, her gaze turning towards the fountain. However, there seemed to be a couple right next to it, causing Darla to let out yet another “Ugh.” before turning around, to look at her friend once more. “Edith… “ The Scottish started, her grip around her waist getting a bit tighter. “Is it bad my wish for the New Year is for a dragon to eat Arawn alive? And that said dragon gets indigestion from it?” She lowered her gaze, not even wanting to be at the party anymore. It just felt too hard still. Plus, all these thoughts made her feel completely awful, as Darla had never resented anyone in such a way before, and just now was realising she could even harbour such feelings. It was frustrating, distasteful, and it just made her feel awful no matter what.

“Ugh,” Edith repeated, scanning the crowd for any signs of a waiter carrying more alcohol. She glanced sideways at her friend; Darla was far too focused on the crowd, and not focused enough on the more important mission of finding a drink. But Edith decided not to say anything, not willing to step down the road towards talking about more feelings. They had already done that too much that evening.

But Darla’s dramatic sigh was too much for her to handle. With a roll of her eyes, Edith turned on her heel to take a proper look at her. They were roughly the same height now, and it took Edith an additional second to adjust to that even though they had been in close quarters moments before. “Let’s do more shots, then,” Edith offered unhelpfully, following Darla’s gaze to the fountain. Ugh? The reversal of their roles caught her off guard as the realization dawned on her: Edith should have been the one disgusted by the sight of two people enjoying each others’ company, as she had so often been before.

At the sound of her name, she looked back at Darla with wide eyes. She was clearly in pain, surely not taking the Arawn news as well as Edith had, using that as the jumping off point to go through with a major life decision. Still, pain or not, Edith was pretty close to being incredibly intoxicated if she wasn’t already, and Darla’s words made her giggle. “Darla, no,” she paused to laugh. “I think that’s a brilliant wish, honest.” The sight of a waiter caught her eye and Edith took the chance to wave him over and take two glasses of champagne just for herself, motioning for Darla to do the same.

She took a large sip before remembering what they were talking about and nearly choking on another laugh. “I just think it’s really unfair to the dragon to wish him indigestion, y’know?” Edith nodded very seriously. “It’s not his fault that Arawn’s a noobly noid.” She shrugged and rolled her eyes before polishing off her first glass. “Or that he smells, or snores so loud I could hear him through the walls, or that he was a worse cook than even me or that he was, y’know, a Hufflepuff.” Only one of those things was true, of course, but the truth was never helpful when trying to disparage someone.

Another realization hit her then: the instant they had stopped discussing Elias, Darla had moved on to thinking about Arawn. As much as it pained her to divulge any sort of personal things with anyone, it seemed like it might be the only thing to keep her mind preoccupied. Of course, she was at a loss for what to talk about. She took another swig of her champagne, the light bouncing off her bracelet as she brought her glass to her mouth. “Did you see this?” she asked suddenly, shaking her wrist in front of Darla’s face.  It was a simple silver chain with a dangly charm, and not just any dangly charm, but one with the United club logo on it. “Elias,” she stated simply, figuring that Darla could fill in the blanks of the rest of her sentence.

Frustration or not, at least Darla knew she hadn’t lost her sense of humour. Edith laughing at her remark had been liberating, realising that perhaps she wasn’t as awful as she initially thought when desiring her first love’s death by being dragon supper. Darla sketched a smile, let it be a shy one, as her friend, her best friend, reassured her that it wasn’t a bad wish, but a brilliant one. She wasn’t sure if she would personally label it was ‘brilliant’, however, at least Darla knew that she wasn’t in the wrong, and had every right in the world to have such feelings.

She picked up two glasses of champagne herself, exactly as instructed by Edith. Her friend kept laughing, causing Darla to laugh herself, especially after the obliviator pointed out that such an unfortunate digestion would be unfair to the dragon. She nodded in disapproval – having grown up in the Hebrides, the former Gryffindor wasn’t exactly keep on dragons. Nonetheless, even Darla could realise that Edith was right. It wasn’t the poor dragon’s fault that Arawn was the way he was. The young witch sighed, and downed her first glass of champagne, letting out a snort at Edith’s attempt of criticising her former flatmate. She was lying, Darla was positive. However, she appreciated the sentiment. Edith was really trying her best to get her out of his depression and frustration bubble she was in.

Darla laughed yet again at the Hufflepuff comment, but decided not to further on that, since a lot of her own siblings had been in that house. Nonetheless, Edith was right. Hufflepuff was clearly an inferior house, especially to Gryffindor. Not that this healer had a lot of Gryffindor pride, still being frustrated over not being sorted into Ravenclaw, however, clearly even Gryffindor was above Hufflepuff. Truthfully, all houses were sort of… just above… Hufflepuff.

Just as she was about to take a sip out of the second glass of champagne, Darla found Edith’s wrist in front of her face. She was also shaking it. Darla arched an eyebrow, puzzled. “I’m a healer, Edith, I’ve seen body parts before, wrists included, yes.”

But her friend had meant the bracelet apparently. “Oh.” Darla remarked, gently placing her own hand on Edith’s wrist, to look at the Manchester United charm up close. It was the real thing. “Wicked.” She said, her gaze turning from the bracelet towards Edith’s figure. “He’s not familiar with muggles, is he now? I mean… this is a pretty amazing gesture.” Darla herself wasn’t particularly familiar with the muggle world, as she had been raised in a wizarding environment strictly. Only after she’s met both Edith and Sierra was that she had started getting into knowing things about muggle society and customs. However, even after years of getting familiar with them, as proved by her ‘visit’ to Scotland Yard, she still had a lot to learn.

Nevertheless, it was impressive. Elias had been quite remarkable. She was genuinely happy for Edith, having changed in such ways. Well, she still had to work out on her anger management issues, however her life was perfect. She had the job she’s dreamed of, had found that special someone who understood her, and now was moving forward. It was really amazing. “Ah, your life is amazing. I mean, aside from the unfortunate incident, it’s all going so superbly well for you. I’m honestly so happy.” Darla turned her gaze towards Edith, as she took one quick sip out of her glass. “I bet that if you’re going to push a bit, you’d also get a promotion at work.” She winked, taking a more generous sip out of her glass this time.

Edith was pleased that she could make Darla laugh, even if the alcohol deserved more credit than she did. She was fully prepared to keep disparaging Arawn’s good name (for her friend’s sake, of course). And she was more than ready to keep supplying her with alcohol -- as long as they were at this gala and there was complimentary alcohol being provided. She loved Darla, but she knew she couldn’t actually afford to keep her good and drunk.

And even if she had to keep revealing more personal things about herself, Edith was happy that it seemed to do the trick of distracting the healer, even if just a bit. She snorted, even as she tried to contain herself, at Darla’s comment about her wrist. “Yes, it’s groundbreaking, I know.” She shook her wrist again, trying to draw attention to the actual thing she was trying to show.

She was a few glasses past minding when Darla touched her wrist, smiling when her gaze met her friend’s. “Right?” Edith couldn’t help but smile, turning her attentions to her bracelet for a brief second before Darla made her laugh again. “Oh, gosh no.” He had, at least, stopped asking her to explain the rules of football, which was nice. She dropped her wrist and moved swiftly into a shrug.

“Yes, well, my arrest and criminal offense aside, I guess things are alright.” She was trying to be nonchalant, but it was hard not to grin. She brought her glass up and hid her smile behind it as she finished the second one in a span of five minutes. Thankfully, she had finished drinking before Darla mentioned work, or pushing for a promotion, or she might have spewed it out on her as she let out a short, sharp laugh. “Ha,” she wiped her mouth with her forearm. “Right.” Rolling her eyes, Edith shrugged again. “Clearly you don’t know my boss.” She paused to consider if that was true, before remembering something more important. “And I guess you don’t understand my work ethic now, but whatever.”

Edith looked out over the dancefloor again; the slow song had led to another slow song, and she was fresh out of alcohol. She scanned the crowd for another waiter, giving up after only a few seconds of searching. “Time for more shots.” The idea was out of her mouth before she had a chance to reconsider. Again, she was on the move, again pulling Darla behind her and through the crowd.

[[ out ]]

Darla let out a giggle at Edith’s reaction to her question regarding her boyfriend’s familiarity with the muggle world. While the healer could understand why her friend reacted in such a manner, she couldn’t help herself but be more understanding towards Elias; in the end, if she herself hadn’t met Edith in their first year at Hogwarts, Darla highly doubted that she’d know even half the things she does now about the muggle world. Which had been a good thing indeed, for it had made her look particularly awesome in front of her brothers, at least for a while, until they’ve all outdone her in that department too.

“Well, that’s a lesson that needed to be learned.” Darla commented under her breath, before taking another sip out of her glass. Truthfully, while she was glad things were going well for Edith, she was also glad her friend got to know the downside of public violence on her own skin. Darla’d never approved of pub fights, being one of her major dislikes, and while she liked her friend as she was, it would definitely be a huge improvement if Edith just avoided fights as a whole after that mishap.

“Who is your boss again?” The former Gryffindor tilted her head to the side, eyes curiously falling on Edith’s figure. She knew the answer, Darla was sure of it; however, right now, the healer couldn’t remember it at all. It was as if it was completely erased from her memory. For a moment, Darla wondered if perhaps she’d have gone overboard and drunk too much, since not remembering something she was sure she knew wasn’t the usual. The Scottish took a deep breath and fanned herself with her free hand, starting to question herself – it was a work event, and she’d drunk so much. Was it wrong? It didn’t feel right.

She turned her gaze towards Edith once more, and the other witch’s words managed to reassure her. More shots were a good idea. In the end, Healer Zakharova had worked so hard on providing them with the vodka fountains, so it’d be a pity not to take advantage of them. Furthermore, not drinking would perhaps even offend her Russian superior. With that in mind, Darla followed Edith quietly as she was pulled through the crowd, more than ready to continue their drinking marathon.

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