Girls Don't like Boys, Girls like Dragons and Money (Edyta)

Artur had been right. Sweden was f**king cold. She’d worn something for once that she didn’t design, a heavy winter coat that her grandmother had gotten her last winter, along with a russian style fur cap, and her black Dragon hide gloves. Edyta would be pleased to know that these had come from the hide of a dragon who had been horrifically ill, and not hunted out in the wild for its skin. Nikola was so fond of black Dragonhide that she’d spent a small fortune on acquiring as much of the hide as she could. Only a vest, boots, and gloves for herself, the rest she was trying to save for particularly picky clients who insisted it had to be real dragonhide, rather then her carefully crafted false version. But there were a few other things she was considering making for herself.

As for why the German woman was in the small Village near her Alma Mater’s new location, her purpose here was twofold. It had been far too long since she’d seen her dear Edyta, and though they’d often written over the past two years, and had managed to spend a weekend together over the summer, Nikola missed the younger woman; desiring to see her in person. But it wasn’t just that. She had a christmas gift that she’d intended to hand deliver, and a bit of a proposal for the young woman; though she’d intended to broach the subject a little later in the month. But Edyta’s soft plea for Nikola to come see her had piqued her interest, and the designer had postponed a meeting with a client to the following weekend, causing her to double book with Artur once again, though she’d written him already to push their practice back by another two hours, which of course meant she’d probably end up feeding him dinner.

But Edyta was worth it. Although.... Nikola let out a sigh. Edyta had told her that the building she was looking for had sea green window trimming, but every structure seemed to have the same shade of red or green trim, as though it was still early in december, everything was already decorated for Christmas already. Letting out a bitter, angry little growl, the German witch took a slow, deep breath, before digging for the letter. The only thing she wanted was to get out of the damn cold. And she always had trouble with Germany’s cold; let alone somewhere further north. “You won’t be cold… you’ll only be outside a few minutes at the most…” she muttered sarcastically to herself in russian.

It was on her third pass past a particular building, as she couldn’t read the sweedish signs, that she caught sight of a familiar face milling about, and smiled. Finally. There was her little Polish friend. Pushing open the door of the building, Nikola smiled and headed straight for the 7th year, placing her hands on her shoulders and kissing her cheeks in greeting. “You said sea green trim.” she greeted with wry amusement, a large package still tucked under her arm.

Edyta wasn't worrying, not really. She knew she looked perfectly fine in the leather trousers she'd picked up in a secondhand shop during the summer break; her winter cloak covered a warm sweater which was a much subtler shade of dusky pink than the bright, garish colours she had favoured a few years earlier and she'd brushed her hair back and rolled it so she looked sophisticated and grown up...or at least she hoped she did. More importantly, she hoped Nikola would think she did. Nikola, who had favoured her with friendship when she was a quiet, studious first year floundering her way through Durmstrang despite speaking only basic Russian, a friendship that had continued long after the older girl had graduated.

True, they didn't see each other often now. Only a couple of times in the past year, but they still wrote. Erratically, but they wrote whenever there was something important to say. Edyta felt very much the poor relation, feeling that her tales of school life and studying for NEWTs were far less interesting than Nikola's fascinating life as a fashion designer. She wanted her friend to be impressed, and proud of her. She really, really didn't want to be a disappointment and at the same time, she wanted Nikola's advice because nobody else would do. Strange thought it may seem there was a bond between them despite their very different backgrounds, and Edyta suspected the older girl had once opened up to her in a way she had rarely done to anyone else. She had felt scared, sympathetic and honoured despite being barely in her teens at the time.

Then, she had looked up to the older woman. Now, perhaps their relationship was more one of equals, but still Edyta felt nervous as she paced the bookshop and adjoining cafe she'd suggested they meet in. Not just because they were meeting, though that set butterflies dancing in her stomach, but because she'd carefully described the building a week earlier, not realising that the entire town would deck itself out in festive colours ready for St Lucia's Day and Christmas. So she waited inside, feeling like a thorough nuisance as she constantly stepped out of the way of Christmas shoppers, trying to keep a clear view onto the street outside.

Wait...wasn't that..? She pushed her way towards the front of the store, apologising in her extremely limited Swedish as she did so but before she could get there Nikola was stepping inside, embracing her. When she stepped back, Edyta did a double take. Now they were almost the same height; the same build, the same hair colour. Edyta felt like a mirror image of her friend, as if she were trying to emulate her. It was a good feeling, and she hoped Nikola noticed and was pleased.

“Yes...I should probably have asked them to change it back. Or just charmed it myself until you arrived...” she answered with a smile that was a little shyer than she had intended “You look...um...good” said even more quietly. Then she gathered herself and asked in a much more normal tone “Shall we get something to drink?”

It had been too long. That was the only thing she could think when the two hugged each other. Nikola pulled back, though keeping her hands on the younger woman’s arms, looking her over. “No no, this is not allowed. Stop growing or you’ll get taller then me!” she teased. It was hard enough for her, especially with men, who found it intimidating when a woman was taller than them. And though that wasn’t an issue for Nikola, who could barely spare them a passing glance unless she wanted something from them; something that could be had in a single night of amusement before leaving them to their own devices, and her to her work; this was Edyta, and she didn’t deserve such difficulties. Though her younger friend had yet to even try dating, the german designer figured it was only a matter of time. Perhaps Edyta was just a late bloomer. After all, she hadn’t bothered till she was 19 or 20 herself.

“You look lovely! I love the pants. They suit you really well.” she complemented, but did take notice that something seemed off with her friend. She was more quiet and reserved then usual, which honestly didn’t surprise her considering the plea to come see her in the last letter she’d gotten. Nikola couldn’t help but be worried. After all, what could be affecting her confident little dragon rider this much that she’d reach out. She really hoped it didn’t involve a boy… of course if that boy was in Artur’s class…. No. she wouldn’t use her friendship with the swordsmanship professor to exact stealthy revenge against whomever was putting her dear little friend out of sorts.

“A drink sounds great. Do you still like Hot Chocolate?” the fact that she had to ask made her feel a little guilty, like she should have been paying her friendship with Edyta closer attention. But she was determined to change that, especially since the girl was almost out of school. “Did I tell you I found a good supplier for Dragonhide?” she asked while the walked into the cafe. She knew Edyta would be pleased with that, and the fact that Nikola had taken that crusade to heart. Ordering their drinks for them, Nikola took her own hot chocolate and found a nice secluded corner where they could sit, setting the package she had down on one of the other chairs. That could wait for now. She was far more interested in what was eating at her friend.

Edyta glanced down at her boots. Smiled, blushed a little and told herself it was just Nikola's reaction to seeing her that made her react that way. It had been a long time, after all; it was natural they should hug, and that she should enjoy it. There was a tingling in her arms where her friend was still holding her as she looked her over. That was just her body's reaction to being out in the cold and then coming inside...except she hadn't been the one out in the cold, had she? She wanted to make a joke in return, to say that she was planning to be the tallest in her year or she was really wearing five inch heels, but nothing came out except a small, lame murmur that didn't really sound like any word in particular.

She was still smiling though, feeling happy, warmer than she had for a while, though the worried feeling was still churning in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to talk to Nikola, but what if... No. Don't think about that yet. "Hot chocolate is perfect. With extra cream. And chocolate sprinkles" she added, unnecessarily, trying very hard to sound normal and cheerful. Nikola liked her to be cheerful. She'd always been cheerful during her first year at Durmstrang, even the times when she wasn't actually happy. Smile, say something positive whether you felt it or not; it had worked almost all the time when she'd been younger. Seeing the best in things had led to her actually feeling happy. Luckily she didn't need to say anything while Nikola bought their chocolate, and even better she was thinking about the dragonhide supplier her friend had mentioned.

"You mentioned a supplier in your last letter, but you said you'd tell me the details later" she said as they sat down. Really, she wanted to talk about the dragonhide now, and not what was concerning her, but the look in Nikola's eyes told her that she wasn't going to be able to avoid that for long. But she could try. "Are your gloves new? Did you design them yourself..?" She was genuinely interested in hearing - Nikola had hinted that she'd found an ethical way of obtaining dragonhide but hadn't explained further - and she listened attentively to the answers, but the worried, churning feeling inside her stomach was growing stronger. Hands clasped more firming around her chocolate cup, Edyta didn't realise she was staring down at the table rather than at her friend.

Nikola smiled and sipped at her own hot chocolate. She was glad that Edyta had latched onto the subject of the dragonhide supplier, but she’d known edyta for seven years now. Early on she hadn’t realized the girl’s cheery demeanor hid whatever she was feeling. It was only once she’d realized this that the two had bonded so strongly. They both hid from the world behind masks of false confidence and emotion, for different reasons, though some more similar then they’d understood when they first met, and Nikola suspected there was more that just hadn’t come up yet. Again she felt guilty for not keeping in better contact with Edyta. for it to have gotten so bad that the young woman needed to reach out, perhaps Nikola could have seen it sooner. 

“Yes. I made the gloves. I also...” she reached into her coat and pulled out another pair, in a deep, dark, almost black-green. “I made you a pair as well. I was informed that it was very cold here.” she grinned, hoping her friend would love them. “But yes. My supplier. Their Dragon hide comes from old, or sick dragons, or dragons that have died naturally. It costs more, because many times they have to act quick to acquire it, and usually owls go out to their clients when they get it. And then it starts a bit of a bidding war… But it's worth it. Best is when they get in one right after another. Everyone fought over the first and doesn't have the money for the second, so i can usually get it cheaper. I tend to just stock up when I can, to keep costs down.” she was proud of her work, and proud that Edyta had pushed her in that direction. If the girl hadn’t commented on it, early on, Nikola wouldn’t have even considered the issue. 

“I’ve also been working on this...” along with the gloves, Nikola had pulled out a rolled up piece of Dragon hide, her own synthetic version, magically created. She wanted an Expert’s opinion, and someone’s opinion who mattered to her. And the only person she could think of for that was Edyta. She took another slow sip of her hot chocolate, before looking over the steaming mug at her friend. “But you didn’t ask me to come here to talk dragonhide or exchange christmas presents.” this was said far more softly and reassuring then her previous words, as she set the mug down carefully in front of her, before switching to Edyta’s native Polish. She didn’t speak it well, and struggled understanding it, but she knew enough to ask her question in a hushed tone.

“Who has made you so sad? Who does my friend need me to kill?”

The seventeen year old's eyes lit up as Nikola handed the gloves across the table. She had dragon-hide gloves already; second-hand of course, well-worn and lovingly cared for, ones that were a little tight now because she'd got them three years ago. But these... new, made especially for her, beautiful and with perfect, ornamental stitching down the finger lines...they were like nothing else she owned. "Thank you...they're beautiful" she breathed, horrified because tears sprang unbidden and unexpected to her eyes and she couldn't brush them away because it would be immediately obvious. She didn't even understand why she was reacting like that. It was a relief that Nikola was talking about the dragonhide supplier, answering her questions. And it was interesting too. "That's great..." she managed, and she meant it, wanted to say more but just didn't trust herself to speak right now. Edyta had always understood the practicality that in order to fly dragons one needed protective clothing made of dragonhide, but sometime during her third year the realisation had hit her like a thunderbolt that in order to get the skin, the dragon had to be dead first. It had appalled her and she had written to Nikola, First just as a way of exploring her feelings, expressed quite mildly at first, isn't it a pity that you can't get dragonskin from already-dead dragons.

But she was thrilled that Nikola had found a way to produce ethical dragonskin clothing. The gloves though - they were too much. Worth far more than she could afford; far more than she could repay, and that didn't sit well with the girl. Even though she knew Nikola expected nothing in return, she wished there was something she could give, something... then her friend unrolled another piece of dragonhide. At least that was what it seemed to be at first. It took a few seconds for her to realise what she was seeing, but she eagerly ran her fingers across the surface. It was synthetic, cleverly made, almost perfect, but for... Edyta frowned imperceptibly, thoughtfully, then turned the fabric over and examined it.

"This is amazing. You have made this yourself..?" she asked unnecessarily "its almost exactly like the Hebridean Black, but..." she hesitated "you see here - the pattern of scales is perfect, but the texture is slightly different. The dragon scales are slightly raised in the centre, but these are flatter, with a slight dip..." perhaps that was the intention, so it could be distinguished from the real thing, but if not...she reached for her own chocolate and drank thoughtfully, her other concerns forgotten or at least pushed aside.

Not for long, though. Edyta's heart leapt when she heard her native language. She'd barely spoken Polish to anyone outside her own family for a couple of years now. It was oddly pleasing to hear Nikola's accepted words, but at the same time they made her heart sink. The assumption that it was someone else that was the problem, that she was dealing with a problem caused by another student or a professor rather than her own inner turmoil. Edyta would have given anything to go back to discussing the synthetic dragonhide, to ask what charms Nikola had used in its creation, to understand how long-lasting it was, how it looked when sewn into a jacket or pair of boots... Instead, her eyes still too full of unshed tears, she responded quietly "Did you ever fell like there was...something wrong with you?"

There was nothing that pleased Nikola more then Edyta’s compliments on her project. Truth be told, she hadn’t really considered making it look like hide from an actual dragon species, but perhaps that would be helpful in her efforts to promote synthetic dragon hide. “That is actually very helpful.” she murmured, watching closely as Edyta explained carefully what would need to be done. She would have to ask her friend to draw her, and perhaps even color the patterning of different species. Of course that gave her another idea, one for when Edyta was done with school. Summer was going to be very interesting. But she didn’t want to overwhelm the girl, and there would be time for her suggestion that Edyta come live with her for a while after school at some other point. Because for now she was concerned for her dear friend’s mental state. After all, Nikola and Edyta were similar enough that she could recognise the signs.

Her face softened when she saw the tears welling up in her friend’s eyes, suddenly glad she’d chosen a secluded little corner booth for them to sit in, sliding closer to her across the leather seats, so they were practically touching, half tempted to pull out her wand and obscure them from view so they could talk in more privacy. But she didn’t, not wanting to alarm Edyta. “Quite often.” she answered honestly. “Though probably for different reasons...” she had no idea what had prompted this question, but for her at least, it was tied to her blood status and unknown parentage. At least in part. Many artists had doubts if they were doing the right thing, or if people would still respect them for their trade.

“Talk to me, Dita.” she murmured softly, using a nickname she hadn’t used in four or five years. “Whatever has upset you, I will never judge you for it. You know that, yes?” despite the age gap, there were few people that Nikola would kill for, outside of her family. She could think of only two, perhaps three. Years ago she might have been willing to kill for Cezary, but the two had not spoken in so long that she didn’t know anymore. But her mind wasn’t on her past failings. It was on her little Edyta. Though she really had to stop thinking of her as that. After all, the girl was an adult, and nearly as tall as the German designer herself. 

Her heart sank. She knew that Nikola wanted to help, thought she would be able to solve any problem that was brought to her, but her response had unwittingly been exactly the wrong thing to say. No, you don't she wanted to reply. You don't wake up feeling like you're wrong and you've got to hide yourself from the rest of the world even though you don't even understand yourself what's going on. You don't feel like everyone knows exactly what you're thinking no matter how hard you try to hide those thoughts. You don't keep remembering something your mother said when you were nine years old and replaying it in your head imagining that she's saying those words about you. You don't... Edyta had said nothing. She didn't want to reject Nikola's help. She wanted a hug.

And she knew very well that she was being unfair and Nikola had felt that way, because there had been a time several years earlier - half a lifetime it seemed to Edyta - when their positions had been reversed, when the little girl had begged the older one to tell her what was wrong, and been surprised when exactly that had happened. Now, her heart was racing, she felt what she wanted to say but she couldn't figure out the worlds in any language, let alone speak them out loud. She forced a smile.

"School's been interesting this year" she said, willing Nikola to understand that she wasn't refusing to talk, not really, she just needed a bit more time, needed to figure out what she was going to say "I never expected Durmstrang would move again so quickly. And you know we have some new students here, from Mahoutokoro? It must be even stranger for them, having to learn a new language and get used to a new school, and..." Damn! She was trying to approach it from a different angle, just let her concerns slip out in a casual conversation, but her throat dried up as surely as if someone had hexed her. The seventh year lifted her cup and took another drink of the hot chocolate, closing her eyes and sighing as she replaced the cup on the table. Again. she drew a deep breath. Both hands around the cup. Staring fixedly at the contents, just pretending that she as talking to herself and there was nobody in the room. And switching back into Polish, because that was what she could do when she was alone and it didn't matter if anyone understood or not. "You know I've never dated anyone. I never wanted to, and I think that's because I..."

No, she still couldn't say it. 

Nikola watched the changing expression on her friend’s face with little emotion of her own. Edyta did her best not to show anything, but they’d been friends long enough that Nikola could tell what she’d said had not been the right thing. It never was, she supposed, when something was actually wrong. When you were in deep, it was hard to understand that someone else had been through what you were going through. And Nikola didn’t even know what it was that her friend was dealing with. Realizing that she had to be more cautious, Nikola just sat, looking another sip of her cocoa as Edyta started rambling on about other subjects.

That was okay. She’d called her here for a purpose, and the german designer figured that her friend would get to the point when she was ready. What Nikola really wanted to do was pull her into a tight hug. But she wasn't sure that was the right thing either. So she let the girl talk, seeing that it was helping to make her more comfortable. Thinking that perhaps giving her the christmas present might help release some of the tension, Nikola’s hand slipped from her cup, but no. Edyta had switched back to Polish, and was staring rigidly at her cup. Perhaps now she’d speak about what truly ailed her.

But Nikola was left more confused when her friend cut off suddenly. Nikola recalled her own school years, having never dated anyone either. And reached over, resting a hand on her friend’s arm reassuringly. When she spoke, it was also in polish, though hers was rougher then the native girl’s words. “It is going to be okay...” she didn’t know what else to say. “Do not push. I have never dated… Lovers, but no romance. And with first lover, I pushed myself because I felt I had to. That I should do it because it was strange that I had not. It was terrible. and … there is a reason I no longer speak of Cezary… we have not spoken much since… do not make you do something you are not ready or wanting to do… and when you find right person… you will know.”

She wanted to run away, and stay here until everything felt better. She wanted to blurt it out and never say another word so the subject was closed forever. She wanted to tell Nikola everything that had built up gradually over such a long period of time that she couldn't even remember when it had begun, only when it had reached a point where she couldn't deny it any more. She wanted it to all go away so she could concentrate on her schoolwork, at least until the end of this year so she could pass her NEWTs and then she could run away to a deserted island somewhere and live where there weren't any people so she would never have to even think about it again...

Instead she wrapped her hands more tightly around her hot chocolate mug and focussed on what Nikola was saying and even that made her feel terrible. Terrible and guilty, because Nikola would never have had to learn Polish if it wasn't for her, and she had done it anyway because they were friends. Edyta supposed she could switch back to Russian easily enough, they were fairly secluded here and it wasn't as if she'd said anything incriminating yet... She nodded as if what her friend was saying made sense. Being told it was going to be okay made her feel better, even if she did want to throw herself into Nikola's arms and sob. To pretend she was a little girl again and didn't have to deal with these feelings she didn't want to have. Another time she might have reacted when Nikola mentioned Cezary. Later she would realise there was a story there, something she would have been curious about under other circumstances.

"The right person" she repeated dully, forcing herself to take a drink because it might calm her churning stomach if it felt something warm and soothing. That was the whole problem - she'd found...well, not the right person, not yet, but she'd realised where she should be looking and it wasn't... She bit her lips, narrowing them into such a thin line that for a moment it seemed as if they had disappeared entirely. "But what if the right person is someone...wrong?"

She made a choice. Switched back to Russian, because nobody was listening and she'd heard people say that it didn't matter, you could love whoever you wanted and nobody should judge you for it. That seemed to work fine for them. But hearing the words and actually believing the, was a different matter, because... "When I was nine years old, I had been working in Mr Walkowiak's shop for almost one year. Once or twice he'd allowed me to watch the shop while he went into the storeroom for something. This day, it was close to closing time and two men came into the shop. They were smiling and chatting to each other. I watched them, because I noticed there was something different about them, but I couldn't figure out what it was. It was only when they came to pay that I realised what was different, because they stopped holding hands so one of them could give me the money. One of them said that my grandfather must be very proud of me for helping - they thought Mr Walkowiak must be my grandfather, you see, because I was really too young to have a job" she stopped speaking for a moment and took another drink, hands wrapped so tightly around her mug that her knuckles had gone white from the pressure. "When I got home, I told my mother about the nice men and what they'd said to me, and she said they weren't nice men at all and that they would go to..." she paused, trying to express something that she had never needed to learn the Russian words for "...that they would have a bad time after they died. Do you understand what I mean by that?" Edyta wasn't sure that she understood it herself, but she remembered her mother saying those two nice men would go to hell because they had loved each other. The incident had made Edyta sad, but she had never mentioned it again. Never, until recently, considered that she might have a reason to.

"And I never saw them again, and I don't think they were bad men, but..." At this point her tears started to flow in earnest. Edyta ducked her head and tried to pretend that everything was okay, she was just telling a story that had happened a long while ago. Maybe she even hoped that Nikola would pretend not to have noticed anything, too.

Nikola slowly raised an eyebrow at her own words echoed back to her, or specifically about why that particular statement. She watched Edyta take another sip of her drink, before pressing her lips together tightly. There was something going on here, and Nikola was certain with a little bit more detail she could put it together, but her little Dita seemed almost… afraid to actually say what was bothering her. Was it a professor? Someone far older then her? She didn’t think Edyta the sort, but then again she hadn’t thought herself the sort to be into older men until she realized thats what she gravitated towards, and the amount of teasing she got from a few of her cousins her own age about daddy issues… that could make sense. But this seemed… please don’t let her be into Artur… or any other professor… Nikola couldn’t think of anything she could say to help her if that was the case.

She was about to answer the question, though still not sure exactly what to say that could help, when Edyta surprisingly switched back to russian and began to tell her a story from her childhood. And that was when everything clicked into place. Nikola was shocked to say the least, at her realization. Not that she had anything against it. But Edyta. That hadn’t been at all what she had expected to hear. And things wouldn’t be easy for her friend. But this… this Nikola could handle. She set down her own mug down before gently removing Edyta’s from her friend’s trembling fingertips. What her friend needed now was affirmation and reassurance. Nikola wasn’t a very touchy person, but some people were exceptions.

Wrapping her arms around Edyta, dragging her friend close, Nikola gently rested her hand on the back of her head, petting her hair. “Those men aren’t evil because they love each other. And you’re not wrong for liking someone who isn’t a boy.” she murmured into her friend’s hair.  “No more than I am for sharing a bed with a woman.” Nikola hadn’t admitted that out loud often, though she’d once been questioned on it by her grandfather, who seemed pleased with her articulated answer that she was cautious in all her dalliances, regardless of the gender of the other participant. Or participants, but she hadn’t told her grandfather that part. But Edyta needed to hear that she wasn’t alone. And Nikola smiled a little, despite her friend’s hurt, recalling how strange it was that the two of them had so much more in common then they’d ever realized.

Maybe Nikola wouldn't realise she was crying. Maybe Nikola would pretend not to notice and not ask any questions and Edyta could say she'd had something in her eye. And her friend would nod understandingly and they could go back to talking about dragon hide and the weather and...the school move! They hadn't talked about that yet! Edyta could pretend that she was worried about having to learn yet another language and ask for advice, because Swedish is quite similar to German, yes, that could work... Her heart was racing, she actually had tears dripping off the end of her nose and still she was trying to pretend that there was nothing wrong, she could raise her cup and hide her face in it until the moment passed. It didn't feel like the moment was ever going to pass, but maybe everything would be okay. Maybe she hadn't actually said anything.

Maybe Nikola was going to get up and walk out now.

Maybe she wasn't.

Her mug was...Nikola was taking it from her hands...prising it out of her fingers that felt frozen even though they'd been wrapped around the still-warm cup. She resisted, trying to keep a grip on the mug as if clinging to it also meant she could cling to the pretence that she was totally, completely ordinary and destined for a totally, completely ordinary life even though she'd known since she was eleven that that wouldn't be the case. But she couldn't fight Nikola any more than she could fight her own psyche...

She jumped visibly when the older girl pulled her into a hug, stroking her hair. It was wrong, it shouldn't be happening, she wanted it to carry on forever, she shouldn't think that - She stiffened, then relaxed, sniffled loudly and disgustingly and then choked on her own tears at her friend's revelation. "You?" she asked, an incredulous grin appearing on her tear-streaked face as she she turned to look Nikola in the eye. Edyta wasn't shocked, she wasn't even surprised, just faintly diappointed in herself that she hadn't figured it out before. And it wasn't a revelation at all, because Edyta knew that some women liked other women, that some men liked other men, she'd seen people holding hands plenty of times since that day in the shop when she was nine years old and for some reason it hadn't worried her, because she hadn't connected it to the time that her mother had been so horrified. She had only connected herself and her feelings with her mother's horror and disapproval, not with the completely normal people she'd seen sitting chatting in cafes or even the Krov common room. She looked away again.

"I know...I know they're...they're not evil, but what if I... can never go home again?" she asked softly. She felt better now that her secret was out, that she'd at least told someone and not caused them to back away in disappointment or disgust, but the fear remained. The fear that she was going to be even more of an outcast from her family than she felt she had already become. Here, right now, she felt safe. She just wanted Nikola to answer, to protect her, to tell her that everything was going to be okay.

There was a soft smile that crossed her lips when Edyta tensed up, and then relaxed. She was bad at handling people and their emotions, including her own at times, but… Edyta was her people. It was different. “Yes me. All the time. The best part is… women know what women like.” and she didn’t even mean that sexually. You wanted to go to an art gallery? To go to a club and actually dance? To curl up on the couch with icecream and blankets and talk for hours? A woman. Not that Nikola had any actual female friends… other then Edyta of course. Now that she thought about it, she really didn’t have many friends. Most people were kept at arm’s length.  Again, she missed Cezary. He’d probably be a better person for Edyta to talk to. He’d helped Nikola through her own issues with this very thing. But Edyta didn’t know Cezary. She did know Nikola. And nikola was probably not the best person for this, but she was the one Edyta wanted, and she’d do her best.

She didn’t let go of Edyta, but kept one arm around her, keeping the girl close as she reached for her cocoa and took a sip, moving Edyta’s back in front of her so the girl could reach it if she needed to…. Before grinning sheepishly and putting the green mug she’d just drank out of back in front of Edyta. “Sorry...” she took the blue mug that was in front of edyta and put it back in front of herself. That was what she got for not paying attention. But the girl started talking again, this time voicing her actual fears.

Ah… so that was what she was so afraid of. And yet, her words awoke something in Nikola, a painful reminder of everything that had happened with her mother. Her uncles, her own insecurities and abandonment issues. She looked down at her friend, her eyes going cold for a moment, before softening, as she cupped Edyta’s face in her hands. “Then you will come and live with me. You will always have a home.” now wasn’t the time to bring up that this was what Nikola wanted the girl to do when she graduated anyways. Later. That was a conversation for another time. Right now what her friend needed was reassurance. Not to be strongarmed into moving to Germany. After all, Nikola wasn’t the sort to take no for an answer.

Edyta actually giggled. She couldn't help herself, and she couldn't have said what it was that had made her react that way. Unless it was just a release of all the emotions that had been building up inside of her, all the worry and anxiety about wanting to tell...someone. She suddenly didn't care if her mother found out and was horrified, because not everyone was like that. Nikola wasn't like that. And Nikola...what was she saying? The seventh year found herself blushing and was glad that her older friend couldn't see her face just now, because her words brought all kinds of thoughts into her head. All the thoughts she'd been trying hard to ignore unless it was late at night and she was on her own and couldn't ignore them any more, and then she felt terrible afterwards, as if people could read her mind and knew what she'd been thinking about. But she could tell Nikola, and it would be okay...not that she would tell her here, of course. But maybe if they got to sit somewhere quiet where they were alone, then she could ask...

What? What else did she need to ask? There was the giggle again, and this time she felt like she needed to explain "I don't even know why I'm laughing" was hardly an explanation, but it would all she could manage right now, and then Nikola moved her mug back in front of her...except it wasn't her mug, and she started giggling again. Except this time it turned into a sob halfway through and she was suddenly crying again.

Somewhere at the back of her mind Edyta was glad she wasn't Quidditch Captain any more. That would have just been another layer of worry, that her team was going to see her like this, in a public place, crying and laughing at the same time until she had a stuffy nose and was fairly sure she didn't have a handkerchief in any of her pockets. This was why other girls carried a cute little handbag instead of stuffing a purse into one pocket and assuming that was all they were going to need. At least she didn't wear makeup, so she hadn't got black streaks down her face to worry about. Now she'd gone cold with worry, the fear of rejection strong again, not just by her family but by everyone, what if they just thought she was suddenly too emotional and unstable and...

Nikola's actions stopped her thoughts dead in her tracks. Her words took her breath away. They'd been friends for years; almost since Edyta had started at Durmstrang, but she hadn't realised until this moment what a true friendship meant. Edyta smiled, or rather she tried to smile as her eyes lit up and more tears spilled down her cheeks. She nodded, relief flooding through her. All her plans for adulthood had involved either getting a job on a dragon reservation or else something on board a magical ship - anything that would give her a place to sleep as well as money so she'd be able to take care of herself. Her desire to live an unusual life, travel the world and be beholden to nobody hadn't changed, but it was such a relief to know she didn't have to do those things. "Thank you..." she managed, her voice thick with tears.

Nikola was glad to see her friend laugh.and a smile crossed her own face as well, keeping contact with the younger woman. “Relief. Because you were so afraid of how badly you thought this would go, that the only logical reaction now is laughter.” that was something Nikola had learned through dealing with her  own inner turmoil. “You can laugh, you can cry. I don’t care. Its what you need.” she murmured understandingly. What she really wanted was to take Edyta up in her arms and cary her off somewhere private, where the girl could vent, scream, or even just wrap herself up in a blanket like a baby bird in the middle of a nest made of pillows on Nikola’s bed. And now she was giggling herself at the mental image.

She pulled a tissue from a pocket in her robe and handed it to her friend. Nikola didn’t carry a purse, but her clothing often had ample pockets, and her cloak had an enchanted one that could hold as much as a purse if needed. On second thought, she pulled from her pocket a small cloth pouch that contained several tissues, folded like an envelope and held with a button. She’d made it with some scrap fabric left over that she didn’t feel like throwing away. What Edyta had needed was reassurance and acceptance. And this, NIkola could give without a doubt. “I would do anything for you, Edyta. And I mean that.” she smiled, leaning forwards conspiratorially, but with a bit of a teasing tone. “To be honest I thought someone had hurt you when you first brought me here… and I was already thinking of how to remove them from this earth.” Edyta would take it as teasing, Nikola believed. After all, not having been as exposed to the wizarding community as others, she doubted her friend knew the rumors about her family. No one would want to believe that their best friend actually would do such a thing. But Nikola would; absolutely would without a thought.

“Now. I believe I have a christmas present for you...” she offered, hoping that Edyta would be more receptive now that she had been reassured.