[tgh] with a little help from my friends. [fflur]

After spending hours working on her broom Roxanna realized what time it was and swore abruptly. Luckily she was all alone and the quiet cellar of her home didn't seem to get offended easily. Brushing bits of wax and trimmings off her hands and onto her hips the witch didn't spend much time getting ready. She used her wand to let down her long wavy hair and dust off the mess on her clothing from working before throwing on a light jacket and heading into the large old hearth in the basement. The publicist working for the Griffins would of really let her hear it if she saw her going out like this but Roxanna didn't much care what the old witch or anyone else thought. She didn't spend hours making sure her natural curls were perfectly without a single stray and she certainly didn't bother with make up. She was an athlete not a puppet.

She arrived at a fireplace not far from the Goblin Hole within seconds but it didn't stop her from feeling frustrated about losing track of time. The resting scowl on her face grew slightly as she crossed the street and found her way to the dive bar she frequented anytime she was home. Pushing her way through the door and the half in the bag wizard coming out she swore again but this time added other words. "Seriously? Please move." After gaining entry the tall woman looked around for who she was meeting. It had been years since she'd seen Fflur, maybe even longer she honestly couldn't remember. She remembered they used to spend a lot of time together though for some reason she could barely remember what they did during those times. Maybe it was because it was so long ago, probably it was because of the alcohol. She also remembered Fflur seriously screwing up and basically falling off the face of the world. Roxy wasn't good with weirdness, she didn't know how to help Fflur after she trashed the championship match and got fired. Honestly Roxy should of been a better friend, she should of done something, but everything was different back then. She hoped it would be different now too. After reading an article about the other witch in the Daily Prophet Roxanna decided to reach out. The article claimed Fflur was drunk while teaching at Hogwarts but Roxanna didn't believe it. She knew what it was like to have bad press, basically everything they wrote about her was bad, it was a nightmare.

And it was a bridge to reconnecting with a friend she'd lost touch with. She hadn't known how to contact Fflur until then but as soon as she did she had dispatched an owl to Hogwarts.  She was relieved when the response came and despite looking forward to this evening all night she had some how still managed to be late. "You seen..." She began to ask the little Goblin behind the bar before realizing she had no clue what Fflur might of looked like these days. She remembered the lean, muscular witch who could drink a giant under the table and kick ass on the pitch the next day. She kind of just assumed she looked the same. It wasn't like she lost her legs, she taught flying at Hogwarts, she wasn't completely out of the game right? "a bad ass chick come in recently?" And then she saw her a few seats down at the bar and smiled lightly. "Fflur?" She asked before sliding into the seat and holding two fingers up toward the tiny creature slinging drinks, ordering some for the two of them. The bar top was sticky and old, the room was clouded with smoke, and the sounds of clinking and cursing floating from the kitchen in the back but yet it felt just like home. So many nights the two of them had closed down this bar, half passed out on the stools but some how making it home. Roxanna missed the ease of those nights. Everything was so hectic these days, the Griffins were actually playing well again and getting all kinds of attention. Harlan mostly, but the others too. Roxanna didn't fit into that kind of lifestyle. She wanted to play Quidditch and be free, not deal with the stresses of becoming a page five laughing stock if her shoes didn't match her eye color. With a toying smile on her face she spoke to Fflur for the first time in ages, her harsh coarse voice being nearly drowned out by a group of patrons behind them growing quite loud suddenly. "You look like shit, how ya been?"

@Fflur Blevins

Roxy Rathbone was the last person Fflur had thought she’d hear from. Well, maybe Sean Connery or someone was the actual last person, but Roxy came pretty close to last. She hadn’t thought twice before accepting the invitation for a catch up, even one at the bar they used to frequent together. It had been nearly a year since she had a drink, and she had been to pubs, had sat across from people imbibing, had even spent time with Charlie without so much as a sip.

Normally, the fact that it was a quidditch sort of someone requesting the face to face would be some cause for concern. She probably wouldn’t have agreed at all if she hadn’t been facing the prospect of another night alone. Of course, there were other adults at Hogwarts, but they were all so stiff, or boring, or downright terrible, that she hadn’t tried more than a couple times to be friendly. Robin was -- Fflur glanced at her watch -- probably mid rehearsal in New York. And that was all well and good, but too many nights spent alone were wearing on her.

She’d honestly be more safe in a bar with someone, than at home without. That’s what she was telling herself, anyway.

Fflur had flooed as close as possible after feeding the dog (and scratching his ears) and she slipped into the bar with a familiar ease. Settling into an empty stool in a sea of other empty stools, she ordered a vodka soda, hold the vodka, reassuring the goblin behind the bar that yes, she did know what she had ordered and yes, she was sure she wanted no alcohol. She rolled her eyes after he had turned his back, lighting a cigarette and cradling it lightly between her lips.

She pulled her drink towards her, though she didn’t sip at it quite yet. She just wanted something to hold onto at this point.

“Roxy,” Fflur spoke with her cigarette still between her lips, dangling precariously. She reached up to remove it, holding it instead between her thumb and index finger. “Been about shit, thanks for noticing.” She teased a grin. “I’d say the same but I didn’t want to insult your playing right off.” She might not have seen Roxy play in nearly a decade, but she had enough experience from being her captain that she knew well enough.

Fflur drummed her fingers on the bar top before wrapping her hand around her glass, not saying anything as her mate ordered two drinks. Maybe Roxy was just doubly thirsty. Hopefully. She cleared her thraot. “You still bumphing whenever you can?” She remembered fondly one match in their sixth year when she had aimed a bludger towards the commentator when they had said something (a compliment, even) about her hair.

It was hard not to find herself in a playful sarcastic mood around Fflur Belvins. It didn't matter how long it had been since she'd seen the other witch as soon as they had started speaking it had all come back naturally, like riding a broom. It had been longer than she remembered but she felt like it was yesterday as she got comfortable on the stool next to her old Gryffindor teammate. "Yeah you were never very good at doing things you said you would though, huh?" She jested back as the other woman brought up her playing style. She couldn't stop the smirk on her face as her drink was poured before her. She pivotted slightly toward Fflur once the liquid gold was securely in her grasp and took a quick swig. "You know it." She told her with another smirk before setting her now half empty stein on the worn and somewhat sticky bar top.

"I saw the prophet, buncha' bullshit." She shook her head, getting serious for a second which for Roxanna Rathbone meant angry. Her dark brown eyes narrowed as she remembered the stupid things they had said about Fflur, about her teammates, and lastly about her over the last few years. It was like every time she picked up one of those things they were trying to ruin her day. They always wrote the worst about people with no remorse. Her mother read those articles, she doubted they even cared. "You bet your ass those pumpkin juice drinkers are going to get a piece of my mind for that." She took another sip of her glass and nodded, agreeing with her own aggressive point as she finished the thought.

"Might ask for the meanest owl they have when I send in the letter, one that bites."

Fflur drained half her glass as Roxy did so to her own drink. She wasn’t sure what had prompted her to try to blend in as a drinker of alcohol, but she wasn’t exactly going to offer up the sober information either. She had only ever told one person explicitly -- but she was convinced Nerys had backed her into a corner then. Fflur returned the look, smirking as Roxy confirmed that she kept the fouls coming. “I’d accept nothing less.” She turned her stool, resting her elbow on the bar so she could take a proper look at the beater.

She looked good. It was almost unfair how good she looked, considering they were into the same things back when Fflur was still playing. But Roxy had either been better at hiding it, or her managers cared less, or she just wasn’t as stupid as Fflur had been. It was probably the last one, but Fflur refused to believe it.

Fflur exhaled sharply through her teeth. “What a waste of paper,” she replied with a laugh, doing her best not to dwell on what The Prophet had said about her. “Those kids who have ‘refused to ever fly again’ are the kids who shouldn’t have been flying in the first place,” she recalled the line from the article as she defended her actions. “Alcoholic rage, my arse. I hadn’t had a drink in--” she paused, catching herself. “I wasn’t drunk, that’s for sure.”

Being ‘the sober one’ in this situation shouldn’t have bother her so much. Maybe it’s because Roxy had been there with her from the start, had seen her descent from Gryffindor captain to Catapults catastrophe that it mattered. Or maybe she was just tired of being so boring. And alone. She didn’t want to talk about her sobriety, which was inevitable once it came up.

“God, I wish I could be there to see that.” Fflur grinned before taking another drink of her soda water, imagining just how beautifully Roxy would defend her. She hoped it would get published -- or she’d just have to meet up with Roxy again to find out about it. She knew which option she should be hoping for, but it was hard not to gravitate toward the possibility of another to-do in her social life.

The bartender stopped abruptly in front of them, grunting a barely recognizable “From them,” as he pointed a stubby finger behind the pair of quidditch players after setting two glasses of amber colored liquid in front of them. Fflur followed his finger, turning on her stool to look, a pair of middle-aged men looking back and waving. Wasting no time, the Welsh woman leaned in toward the goblin. “Could I just get another of what I was drinking before?”

Roxanna couldn't help but chuckle at what Fflur was saying. She could only imagine how terrible some of the chubby little kids she had to teach to fly brooms were. They were probably all rolls and no balance and honestly she wouldn't have the patience for it. Some people were meant to teach and be around children, Roxy was not one of them. She would be such a terrible influence. She was a bad influence on fully grown adults capable of making their own informed decisions, who knows how badly she would damage a kid. Most of the time Roxanna forgot that being a professional Quidditch player meant she was kind of in the spotlight. Sure she was in the shadow of the more popular, better looking, Griffins but she was still in the public eye. She forgot that she could still influence people even though she wasn't standing in front of them teaching them basic flying skills like Fflur.

She also forgot that she was apparently no longer just another face in the crowd. When the bartender came up to them she naturally assumed the drinks were from someone who recognized her as the Griffins beater and co-captain. Not because she was full of ego or because she particularly enjoyed the attention but exactly the opposite. It annoyed her and so naturally it kept happening. She watched as Fflur asked the barkeep for something else and wondered what she had been drinking before. It was something clear.. vodka maybe? "Great timing bud." She told the goblin before picking up her new drink and holding it out as a thanks toward the wizards he had mentioned. With a drink in both hands a smug look on her face she turned back to look at Fflur and spoke. "Free drink is a free drink right?"

"Never known you to be picky?" She noted after she'd taken a big swig and finished her first drink.

Fflur sat up straight -- or back into her previous slouch -- and shrugged toward her friend. “Eh, I just didn’t want to buy into the ‘alcoholic rage’ thing I’ve got going for myself now, you know?” She referenced the article again with a smirk, like she would really be one to really try and save face. The Fflur that Roxy knew didn’t care what other people thought, she realized, and she tacked on, “Besides, they’re fans of yours, so those are both for you.” She motioned at the shots with a wave of her hand.

But the two blokes must have overheard her — not that she was trying to keep her voice down anyway — because one called out, “No, your goal against the Kestrels in ‘89 changed my life.” Fflur blanched. It was harder to lose her cool when she wasn’t drinking, and she’d only feel worse about it tomorrow if she let her temper get the best of her because she wasn’t drinking. She didn’t appreciate being recognized these days, had given a kid detention because they had the nerve to criticize one of her plays from 1994. It was a mistake to meet up with Roxy in a place like this, even though it had been so tempting and she had been so sure of herself when she agreed.

Still, it was a good thing she was being recognized, and it had been so long since that had happened. The goal he was talking about was probably one of her better memories. Her first year playing for the Catapults, fresh out of Hogwarts: her goal had brought their score up to a cool sixty points, versus the Harpies’ two hundred. But she had seen the seeker, knew what she was doing, and scored just two seconds before the snitch was caught. Winning that match got them to the playoffs, to the championships, to the title

Fflur swallowed and shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t remember wrapping her hand around one of the glasses, remembered even less that she had brought it halfway to her mouth. Whisky -- she had caught a whiff -- had never been her thing. She stuck to vodka, tequila if she had to. But Roxy wasn’t wrong. She wasn’t picky. She was just sober, and boring, and alone.

She tossed it back without another thought, closing her eyes as she lowered the glass back down to the bar, gripping it tighter. She should have felt regret in giving up eleven months of sobriety, but instead she found herself only regretting that she hadn’t done it sooner and hadn’t done it with a drink that she would have actually enjoyed. She managed a smile and a smaller, “Cheers,” to no one in particular as she stared into the bottom of the empty glass.

It was easy to snap out of though, as the bartender came back with her soda water. She sat up straight and caught his attention with a nod. “Vodka rocks.”

The look on Roxanna's face when the fans announced they were actually Fflur's was hard to describe. She wasn't sad or shocked or jealous, honestly she was happy they weren't there for her, but she was a little surprised by the idea. She shrugged her shoulders and nodded like she'd dodged a bullet before knocking back another drink. Setting the glass down as Fflur downed her own drink Roxanna laughed heartily. "Niiiice~" She said loudly over the sound of the bar. Whether it was from the alcohol or the patrons the bar sounded like it was getting louder but Roxy didn't mind it one bit. She hated the quiet and even more hated the calm.

"Vodka rocks." She said hoarsely, another laugh bellowing from her as she nodded along. "Now thats the Fflur I remember. Her drinks are on me!" She called down the bar, ignoring the grunting of the goblin who clearly did not want them to talk to him anymore. For a bartender he was literally one of the least social creatures she had ever met. He was literally paid to listen and still couldn't bother to keep one of his over sized green ears on a conversation for more than a few seconds. He rarely brought back the right order but Roxanna had stopped bothering to check a long time ago. The goblin in the kitchen was even worse. She'd seen the chaos that insued when someone sent back an order because it wasn't made to order. She never wanted to see that again.

Clapping her hand down on the bar Roxanna grew louder and more boisterous with every drink she had. "So other than ruining the lives of children what have you been up to?" Bright white teeth smiled at the other witch as she pushed unruly curls out of her face. Much like her volume her thick brown hair got more out of control the more she drank. Thankfully she barely cared about it even when she was sober.

Fflur had been anticipating a horrible feeling to accompany her first drink post-sobriety, some awful sort of queasiness as her stomach rejected the alcohol it hadn’t been privy to for so long. She had been expecting the wave of calmness it brought over her, like she had a missing piece that she had only found with this one drink, just two ounces of whisky to solve all her problems.

She managed a laugh as the other quidditch player congratulated her drink order. “Thanks,” she said with a grin, reaching her arms above her head in a deep stretch, as if some heavy weight had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders. She lowered her arms and rolled her shoulders back, setting a serious smile on her face as the goblin returned with the actually wanted drink. She didn’t have to be a drunk just because she drank, she reasoned with herself as she picked up her drink, pushing the straw aside and taking a swig straight from the glass.

She had heard about this, the first drink. Like a drink of water after being out in the desert. She had little experience with deserts, but she guessed that was accurate enough. She didn’t want to find out. She took another swallow, ignoring Roxy’s question for a few more seconds. Questions could wait. Everything could wait.

Setting her glass down on the bar (but not removing her hand from it), Fflur turned towards Roxy with a smile. “Ruining lives takes up most of my time, really. But I guess,” the only thing of note about her life was Robin and not drinking, and she had literally just gotten rid of one of those things. “Remember Robin?” she asked, a lopsided grin on her face. “Byrne-Davidson,” she clarified, realizing again it had been nearly a decade and a half since they had been in school. “Anyway,” she continued, not waiting for her to catch up or otherwise, “Kinda shacked up with him now.” She didn’t think she had been obvious about like liking him back in school -- at least Robin had never noticed -- but she had no idea if Roxy had been as oblivious. He dated her sister instead, which seemed to be about as oblivious as possible.

But mentioning Robin just made it all the more obvious that she would eventually have to tell him about her -- well, failure was a strong word -- shortcoming. So she changed the subject. “But tell me…” Fflur rested an elbow on the bar and leaned in, her other hand still holding onto her glass. “Iis Bellamy a better captain than I was?” She smirked, daring her to say yes. “You can be honest, I won’t be mad.”

"Byrne-Davidson" She said in a specific way, mocking his forever double last name even though she barely actually remembered him. Alcohol made her obnoxious and tonight would be no different. "Ohh really?" She said, winking and smirking at the words that came from Fflur. "How long's that been going on?" She asked casually as she settled in for a good long drunken conversation to rival the ones they used to have. Fflur was always one of her most favorite drinking buddies and honestly she was happy to have the opportunity to have that again. The fact that ten minutes ago Fflur had been completely sober ridiculously lost on Roxanna.

"I mean..." She trailed off, giving the girl a sarcastic grin before moving to continue too answer the question about Harlan being a better captain. She grew quiet for a moment, not so much thinking about what she was going to say but rather weighing the plusses and minsuess of both of her captains. Fflur was a killer player, a person would have to be insane to say otherwise, and she'd been a damn good captain but they were just kids back then. Even Roxy, who knew she wanted to play professionally from the moment she got on a broom, barely took it seriously back then. She seriously considered which way she would answer before finishing her drink and tapping on the counter, hoping for some shots and finally responding.

"He's got a better ass."

Fflur smirked as her friend repeated his name, halfway to laughing. “Really.” She returned the wink, already smirking, realizing that she was picking up drinking like it had only been one day since her last, not three hundred forty-two. “Since August I guess.” She knew exactly how long it had been, down to the day, just like her fleeting sobriety. This relationship would last much longer than the one she had just given up with that metaphorical wagon. “It’s my award-winning charm and killer body that keeps him around, I’m sure.” She didn’t dwell on how much of their being together she probably owed to their shared sobriety.

She laughed and took another drink, trying not to think about how good it felt.

Leaning into her fist, Fflur raised her eyebrows as Roxy looked deep in thought. She appreciated the difficulty of it all, that it could have been such a hard thing to do to find reasons how anyone could be better than her. But she was taking so long to come up with an answer that Fflur needed to take another drink; she nearly choked when Roxy finally spoke. Swallowing, Fflur used her free hand to punch the other woman in the shoulder, marveling at how positively normal everything felt.

This was good, this was how things were supposed to be. Minus the insults, of course. “Fuck off.” She probably wasn’t wrong; he had certainly beefed up quite a bit since their Hogwarts days, but Fflur wasn’t so easily going to admit defeat. “Rubbish.” She slipped off her stool, careful not to let go of her drink, and turned her back to Roxy. Waving her free hand behind her, Fflur looked back over her shoulder. “Absolute rubbish.”

Roxanna smiled into her drink when Fflur told her to fuck off, just like the old days. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed getting smashed with her old friend. The guys on the team were great and sure they were fun to party with but no one could drink like Fflur could. She kept the party going for what felt like days sometimes. It was always wild, Roxanna usually wound up doing or saying things she shouldn't, sometimes she had one more tattoo in the morning than she had the night before, but she never had any regrets. It was always a good time.

When the other witch stood up from the stool and began to show off her goods Roxanna chuckled outright and nodded her head. "You might have a point." She laughed again, winking at Fflur in a friendly way. "Best sit that ass back down before anyone takes notice." She said with a raspy voice and a laugh on the tip of her tongue. She sipped on her drink slowly and looked around the room, a tiny touch of silence fell between them as she drank up the moment.

"So how is Robin's ass then?"