mp | love, they say [magnolia]

Barbara smoothed her skirt down nervously as she sat -- last year she and Owain had dressed up in matching costumes of her choice, but this year it was his pick, and he’d gone for something a little less adorable than she’d hoped for -- then plucked with her fingers at the mussed ends of her hair. She had meant to sit next to Billie but Billie -- it seemed -- was being a Prefect, even now, on a holiday.

Of course, it didn’t help that she was dressed like a honking daffodil (an approximation of one, at least -- she had told Owain in no uncertain terms that she would not be wearing one of those silly St. David’s things, and they’d compromised on a slightly subtler petaled headband) and felt a fool not standing next to a Devil’s Snare so that it was more obvious what their costume was. (Owain’s costume was a fair bit more recognisable than hers, just as it’d been the year before -- Barbara knew it was because she was too concerned with how ridiculous she looked, and because he wasn’t at all; she wasn’t sure yet whether she was envious or not.)

Well -- it didn’t matter now; he and his Devil’s Snare costume were with some of the other boys, costumed cheaply in knockoff Quidditch uniforms or old-fashioned Auror’s robes.

Barbara was glad that she and Owain didn’t get lonely without each other, except at times like this, when she didn’t have Billie. Two was a rather pitiful number, when it was the number of friends she was comfortable hanging on at events like this. She half wanted to leave it entirely, and forget about this funny green pumpkin she’d picked up to carve but she coveted the pumpkin too badly -- and besides, she’d come all this way. Billie was conferring with Killian, so Barbara slid into a spot next to one of Killian’s friends, hopeful that her classmate felt similarly displaced by all this Prefecthood stuff. “Hello, Magnolia,” she said (she’d always thought that was the most lovely name.) Sitting up a little straighter, trying to catch a glimpse of what type of vegetable Nola planned to carve, and whether it was one of those hideous bumpy ones, she added curiously, “Do you know yet what you’ll do with yours?”

@Magnolia Lane Hawkins
cc: @Billie Fay @Killian Buckley @Owain Hughes

Magnolia had been so deep in thought or rather, distracted by the awkward shape of the gourd she had picked from the garden on her way to the carving station that she hadn’t heard her name said out loud. Though she had seen a figure in her peripheral vision and it had been that shape that had grabbed her attention and made her turn toward Barbara. “Hey Barbie, can I call you that?” she smiled sweetly. Nicknames had always given her a feeling of closeness, and since any friend of Killian and Billie was a friend in her eyes (except for Phillip, he was scary), then it only seemed natural for her to establish that with her right away.

Magnolia didn’t know Barbara Gibson as well as some of her other friends, Billie and Killian came to mind almost immediately, but the young Gryffindor had no reason to dislike her. Magnolia hardly had any reason to dislike anyone, though a couple of people came to mind then too.  “No, I think it’s a bit beyond repair at this point,” she looked back at the gourd turning it on its head to get a better perspective. “It’s kind of funny looking, isn’t it?” she pointed out, the bottled body of the bumpy gourd a mixture of silly and grotesque.

But maybe she could work with that; that description sounded like an ideal representation of what Halloween was supposed to be about, wasn’t it? “Magnolia turned to Barbara again, this time getting a good look at her, and she smiled widely, “Oh, look at you! Your costume is the cutest!” she all but shrieked in delight. “I’m supposed to be a kneazle,” she pointed at the cat hears on her head to make a point, though the whiskers painted on her face probably made it obvious.

“Did you come by yourself?” she wondered. "I thought I'd check up with Killian, now that he's proper prefect and all," she offered an explanation, "but I see they're at it again," she snickered as she saw Billie and Killian talking to each other, returning her gaze to her bumpy gourd. She wondered how much Barbara knew, she had been closer to Billie after all.

“Oh -- yes, of course!” she said, pleasantly flustered. It was nice to be asked about things like this -- some people just jumped straight to ‘Babs’ which she did not care for; her sister had called her Bubby, which she hadn’t cared for until recently. (It struck her sometimes how humiliating she would have found Florence, had they both grown old enough. Bubby.)

But she was distracted; she forced her attention back to the task at hand -- to the task at Magnolia’s hands, rather: a knobby, awkward little gourd. She was saved the trouble of being kindly cruel by Magnolia taking the initiative -- “Quite,” she said with relief. “Well -- you could put eyes on it. Maybe.”

There really was no saving that gourd, she thought mournfully, but she was distracted from the plight of the squash by Magnolia’s comment on her costume; Barbara beamed, one hand drifting self-consciously to the ends of her hair. “Thank you!” she said; “You look just lovely as well. I love cats.” She had wanted a kneazle once, but her father thought two cats was plenty; Barbara had inherited her sister’s calico and was quite overburdened now -- and with the whiniest, neediest, most downright pathetic cats she thought had ever existed.

(Needless to say, her cats were the lights of her life.)

“I did,” she answered, her gaze straying toward Billie and Killian again. “Well -- I came with Billie, but I guess she’s doing prefect things.” They’re at it again -- that much was true, she supposed. Their friends were, naturally, getting closer -- it was a natural consequence of prefect-nes. But Barbara was, she told herself determinedly, not bothered by this.

She tilted her head, still looking at their friends conferring over a first year’s choice of pumpkin. “They’d be rather good together, don’t you think?” she said; she liked Phillip very much -- well, she liked Phillip a moderate amount -- well, she liked Phillip -- but she couldn’t deny having reservations about Billie with a bad boy.

Magnolia was pleased that Barbara didn’t seem to mind the diminutive since the Gryffindor had always related the usage of nicknames as the beginnings of friendships (for the most part, anyway, it seemed like some of the younger students had overheard others call her Nola and had started calling her that as well). The young witch was also pleased with the idea that she’d have the opportunity to expand her circle, apart from Billie, there were no other Ravenclaws in her circle. The teenager had always admired how bookish they all were, and in her daydreams in class, she often thought about how she too might like to be more of the quiet, wise, intellectual types. But those fantasies were half-baked, for as soon as she considered it in more detail the reality that she might miss out on the sorts of adventures her friends got onto brought her back to Earth.

Taking another look at the ghastly gourd in her hand, she tried hard to imagine what it might look like with eyes, and whether it was worth it. She cracked up, “Well I suppose if I can’t go for scary, I might as well go for silly,” she shrugged, not really that invested in doing anything with the gourd but feeling the need to participate. These sorts of events were the best time to pick up on juicy pieces of gossip, especially from her point of view where you could look at others without people realizing that she was observing them. Magnolia could already see some familiar faces and some questionable behavior; she would have to discuss this with her besties later.

“Same!” she concurred. Magnolia was a fan of cats herself, particularly of Queen Victoria, her Turkish Angora, whom the young witch was in love with. The cat was more of an apathetic roommate whose activities included coming out of hiding for her favorite tuna treats, rolling around in Magnolia’s freshly laundered robes, and knocking things off her desk. Either way, animal costumes were much easier that anything else.
“Prefect’s a busy job, so grateful they skipped me in the offerings,” she replied, her voice echoing her gratitude at not having to deal with that sort of responsibility. Not that they would have offered it to her anyway, probably not a good idea to make the gossip girl in charge, she’d probably trade get out of detention free cards for fresh gossip. Tilting her head, she got a good look at Billie and Killian, thinking about it, “Absolutely,” she agreed with a nod.

“Can’t really see what she sees in Phillip,” she shrugged, she really couldn’t, Magnolia sort of wished Killian would save their poor little angel from the devil’s clutches. “Don’t know much about him but he rubs me the wrong way, you know him well?” she wondered, Magnolia was aware that the two of them were Ravenclaws, maybe Barbara knew much more about Phillip than she did. “Can’t be bothered to make the effort though, he’s always acting like he doesn’t know who I am,” she went on. “Anyway, you think it’s gonna happen? Killian and Billie”.

Barbie wrinkled her nose at the little gourd; Nola laughed, so she laughed too, again relieved that her companion had taken the initiative. “Well, I’m sure you could go for scary if you tried,” she said, and sighed, turning her gaze toward her own gourd, which she was cradling to her hip. “I don’t really know what we’re expected to do with these anyway,” she said. “Put them in our rooms? Stack then with all of Professor Hagrid’s in the Great Hall?” She wasn’t sure which was less appealing: she didn’t want a decomposing, dying, dissected pumpkin sitting in her room -- but, of course, once it’d been carved, she didn’t imagine she’d want to relinquish it to sit anonymously among everybody else’s pumpkins. What a dilemma.

“You’ve got a cat, right?” she said, feeling foolish that she knew so little about a girl who was, after all, in her own year. This was what came of talking only to Owain and Billie. She resolved (not for the first time in her Hogwarts career) to branch out some more. “I have two. Pinky and Patches.”

Magnolia seemed to be pleased at being passed over for Prefect -- Barbara, privately disturbed by this, afforded her friend a timid nod. She would have liked the position, she thought -- but she couldn’t deny that Billie seemed to be doing a good job. At least Nola agreed with her assessment of their friends: it made her feel a little better for having thought it in the first place.

It must be a Gryffindor thing, she decided a moment later: she’d never have said that about a friend’s boyfriend, but she rather imagined her sister would have. It was a lack of tact or decorum that she rather envied. “Well,” she said faintly, trying to think of a way to defend Phillip, “He’s very intelligent. And quiet.” Those were good things, kind of. Unfortunately, she didn’t know him well -- she shook her head.

“I don’t think he’s acting,” she ventured, “I wager he really doesn’t know who you are.” She wasn’t convinced he had known who she was for about six months.

Thoughtfully, Barbara tilted her head, trying to imagine Killian and Billie together. “Well -- I don’t think Phillip and Billie will break up,” she said primly, and bit her lip. “But -- maybe. Why,” she raised her eyebrows, lowered her voice. “Do you?”

Magnolia took another look at the gourd in her hand, this time considering what purpose it might serve and if that might give her the inspiration that she needed to complete the project in front of her. “Maybe I’ll send it to my mum, you think it’s weird to send a gourd via owl?” she asked, considering that her mum might be proud to receive something from her daughter, especially if it was related to a school project. But more than a cute little fall project, Mrs. Hawkins probably looked forward to her daughter’s progress report. That was not something she wanted to send home, especially not now that she’d gotten detention and was having a hard time focusing in class. “Might keep it in my room, in the spirit of fall festivities,” she said decisively.

“Yes, Queen Victoria!” she offered proudly, and would have shown pictures had she brought her wallet along for the event. Tucked into one of the small pockets was a photograph of the witch holding her precious fur baby, Magnolia laughing and the cat looking eager to jump out of her arms. Thankfully, Magnolia had gotten better at toning down her sudden displays of affection toward her cat and she could tell that Queen Victoria was grateful for it. “Do you?” she asked, very delighted to learn that Barbie, too, was a cat person. “You’ll have to show me sometime!” she continued. Queen Vicky wasn’t the sort to enjoy things like play dates, the Gryffindor couldn’t imagine a cat that enjoyed sharing its attention with anyone else. Either way, one could never know enough cats.

It was hard to believe that anyone had anything good to say about Phillip apart from Billie but Magnolia listened attentively anyway, making a noise of disbelief as she considered if Phillip was quiet or just terribly aloof and he felt too superior to talk to anyone outside of Billie. She’d never know, she wasn’t really trying to make friendly with him. She shrugged, “I’ve only told him about a dozen times,” she felt miffed at the thought of being forgotten, “But I guess it’s hard to remember people’s names when you haven’t got any mates,” she muttered the last bit under her breath, grumbled really.

So rather than focus on Phillip, Magnolia turned her attention to Barbie’s speculation about the future of Billie and Phillip’s relationships. In her head, it sounded like something that would look good on an anonymous poll: Billie and Phillip vs. Billie and Killian: Pick your OTP. “Oh I don’t know,” the witch smirked at the possibility, “They went to camp in the States together, Killian and Billie, didn’t you hear about it?” she asked, emphasizing the word together as if the duo had planned it that way. It was probably just coincidence.

Both girls gave the gourd a dubious look before Nola finally announced that she might just give it away. “So long as the owl is big enough to carry it,” said Barbara doubtfully. Some of the students at Hogwarts boasted absolutely wretched owls -- one of Nola’s roommates had one with pronounced eyebrows and, thought Barbara, a general air of menace, and there were at least two owls living in the owlery that were almost certainly not fit to deliver mail. The gourd would probably have killed them.

Nola made up her mind quickly enough anyway.

“Queen Victoria!” Barbara echoed -- what a charming little name. It sounded familiar for some reason, though she dared say she had no clue who it reminded her of. There were no Queens Victoria in any of the novels she’d read as a child.

Magnolia was -- obviously -- unimpressed with Barbie’s weak praise, which was just as well. Even Barbara couldn’t have said that ‘quiet and intelligent’ was what she’d have looked for in a good boyfriend. Nola replied in almost conspiratory tones and Barbara giggled with surprise, snorting a little in an attempt to squash it. “Oh, you’re awful,” she said, and covered her mouth with one hand to hide her smile. “Really, he doesn’t know your name? That’s so rude. I can’t fathom why he was made a Prefect.”

“So were Josie and Freddie and Aase,” said Barbara, and crinkled her eyes in a smile. If they were going to gossip, she was determined that they did so correctly -- there was nothing to be read into, that both Killian and Billie had attended a summer event that much of their year had gone to, and besides, Billie surely hadn’t gone for as long as Killian had, since Barbara had seen Billie over the summer while Aase was away. However… “I do know they were writing each other over the summer, though. Killian told me they’d met up, too, I think.”

This, perhaps, was too correctly gossipy. Barbie rolled her pumpkin lazily on its side and finally reached for a knife to start decorating. Still… her gaze dragged back toward their friends. “Killian really is a lot more mature and decent than any of the other boys I know,” she said, “So I don’t reckon anything would happen anyway. He’s too much a gentleman.” She raised her eyebrows at Nola -- surely if anybody knew otherwise, it’d be one of Killian’s closest friends.

“I’ve given him plenty of chances,” the girl instead, remembering the handful of times she had made the good effort of speaking to Phillip and making nice with him, even if only for Billie’s case. Magnolia curated her circle of friends in the same way that she did all of those other things she cared deeply about, like her favorite records or the hundreds of little tins of nail polish. It simply did not make sense to her that Phillip, being one of the members of her little group of friends, would purposefully choose to spend time away from them when he could just as easily spend more time with Billie by situating himself inside of the circle of friends.

It was not as if he was obligated to spend every waking moment with them. If Magnolia had a boyfriend, the girl would encourage him to spend time with her friends, knowing well that if she were accepted by her “family” (her friends at Hogwarts) they had a better chance of making it last. “He either stares at me in confusion, calls me something else, or just ignores me altogether. He’s terribly rude,” she said pointedly, her brow furrowing just slightly as she was reminded of his lack of manners.

“I know, I know but it isn’t the same,” the Gryffindor insisted. Magnolia in fact was not aware who had gone to Stowe for the summer or who had chosen to stay, she was still catching up on some of the gossip from early in the summer before camp had even started. But from what she had heard, there was nothing regarding Josie, Freddie, or Aase that had been as scandalous. “Were they really?” she asked, suddenly intrigued by the little piece of information that Barbie shared with her, turning in her seat and having a hard time keeping the excitement out of her voice. She had not anticipated that. “Well you know what they say about letters…” she started. Magnolia did not know what they said about letters, she owled her friends constantly but did have a preference for meeting in person. But letters between Killian and Billie sounded like correspondences between forbidden lovers (not really), and that sounded much more interesting.

Magnolia thought that Barbie’s description of Killian sounded accurate which might have explained why the entire thing was a little more frustrating than it needed to be. “Oh but the possibilities, you know,” she replied with a smile, “if Killian and Donnelly were to have a duel for Billie’s heart, who’d you think would be the winner? I mean, I don’t think Killian’ll keep being a gentleman if Donnelly calls him out, right?

The more Barbara thought about it, the more Magnolia’s view made sense: it was clear that Phillip was intelligent -- why shouldn’t he have had a little more common courtesy? He was certainly smart enough that any lack of knowledge about Billie’s other friends reflected more on his interest in them (or lack thereof) than his intelligence. And using another name -- she couldn’t imagine that was anything but deliberate. Magnolia concluded with he’s terribly rude and Barbara was inclined to agree.

“He is,” she agreed, but sighed. She didn’t like Phillip much, but she couldn’t deny that he seemed to treat Billie very decently -- she supposed that was more important. Still, “Some people are just naturally like that, I think,” she said. “I reckon he’s very wrapped up in himself.” For all his moodiness and his silence, he’d always seemed thoughtful -- she just couldn’t say what on earth he thought about.

You know what they say about letters…. Barbara furrowed her brown unprettily, not sure she did know what anybody said about letters. The only thing she and Billie had agreed upon when they’d discussed it was that they composed their letters quite differently than either Killian or Phillip did. “I don’t reckon Killian could be very romantic in letters,” she said. “He’s written to me and I’ve never found them very eloquent.” This felt like an especially underhanded thing to be saying to one of Killian’s friends -- she was suddenly paranoid that the opinion would make its way back to Killian, so she added, “You know -- I know he’s articulate, but I think he takes less time to write his letters than he would his essays.”

Of course, she had always agonised over her tone in letters -- most of her letters had to be written and then rewritten to make up for the bits she’d struck out or added in.

A duel for Billie’s heart was an alarming hypothetical, but at least it was just a hypothetical -- Barbara tapped her lips thoughtfully with one finger. “Donnelly’s in N.E.W.T.s already,” she said -- and Donnelly was in seventh year, one of those older students that’d been toughened by the war -- but, more importantly, “Do you really think so? I wouldn’t have thought Killian had it in him.” She supposed he was a Gryffindor, but weren’t Gryffindors supposed to be sort of chivalrous?

Nothing was more chivalrous than a duel for someone’s heart, though. Barbara gave Magnolia a sly grin -- “Well, what I think is that Killian has the advantage of you lot,” she said -- by you lot she meant Magnolia and her friends. Phillip may have had two more years’ education, but he certainly didn’t have a backup squad.

“Hm,” she considered Barbara’s words, wondering if Phillip was simply suffering from a bad case of introverted-ism and that it simply was not his fault that he could not make nice with his girlfriend’s friends. But the girl was determined to find fault in everything the boy did; her friendships the only things she did not do in halves (everything else, on the other hand, could have used a little more effort).

“Well I’d say that people wrapped up in themselves have no business being in relationships,” she concluded after a moment’s thought, stating her opinion as if it were something that had been reached after years of proof and research, but like almost everything else that Magnolia said, it was all purely theoretical. Who was to say that people couldn’t be introverted and in relationships at the same time? It did seem selfish but maybe so was thinking that it was impossible. Either way, she was not going to dwell on it long enough to give Phillip's way any room to flourish in her brain.

“Right but letters to my friends are never quite as eloquent as how they might be to like, my boyfriend,” she offered, using her hands to describe what was supposed to be inferred from her words. The language would certainly be more painstakingly chosen, the words to convey her feelings to a boyfriend might be a little more romantic than the way she might write the lot of her girlfriends. “Plus it’s kind of romantic, right?

They probably can’t talk in person because her big, scary boyfriend is always looming in the shadows so they must write in order to convey their undying affection for one another,” she was creating the story as she spoke, though the girl had heard nothing about these letters or their contents and was clearly exaggerating everything that one might find within them. For whatever reason, it was much easier to imagine Billie being held captive in a relationship than her having a wandering eye and say, enticing, someone like Killian on purpose. Magnolia didn’t think the girl was the sort of person to lead anyone on, at least not on purpose.

“Killian’s Gryffindor, skill doesn’t trump heart, and he’s got plenty of it,” Magnolia defended, but only because, as Barbara stated soon after, she had already decided whose side she was on no matter the outcome. But there was much to say about her close friend’s abilities, he was incredibly intelligent and articulate, Phillip might have been smart, he was a Ravenclaw after all, but he was quiet and could have easily been the sort to stand aside if the situation arose. He could have easily been a coward. “Well whatever it is they do, I hope it’s resolved quickly, you and Billie are our honorary guests, there is no space for a third Ravenclaw at the table,” she said pointedly. Though any other Ravenclaw would have probably been welcomed, except for that one.

“But speaking about duels, who’s out dueling for your heart, Barbie?” she smirked, turning away from her ghastly gourd to see how her friend might react. Might as well get a little more gossip while she was at it.

“I suppose not,” said Barbara, though the agreement sent a flicker of guilt through her. She wasn’t sure if it was guilt for her own selfishness -- for how self-obsessed she knew herself to be, and was she dragging poor Owain around after her for the last year only out of selfishness? did she have no business in a relationship either? -- or for all this talking about Phillip unflatteringly behind his back. It could have been either.

It was odd to defend Phillip; she rather wished it weren’t her in this position. Billie would know better what to say on his behalf -- but, of course, there was no way Magnolia would ever have said this so bluntly to Billie.

Barbara twisted her mouth doubtfully -- her letters didn’t vary much in tone, even when they were to her boyfriend, but she supposed that her boyfriend had been her friend for much longer than he’d been her boyfriend, and that she did her best to at least sound elegant in writing, if her handwriting couldn’t make her look it. It was a delicate balance. Her mouth fell open -- “Come on now,” she protested a little faintly -- “Phillip isn’t that big and scary --” she tilted her head thoughtfully. “Killian’s just as big,” she amended. That was closer to true. “Both of them have a full foot of height on me.”

She hesitated a moment before adding primly, “And Billie’s never given me any indication that she’s in undying affection with Killian Buckley.” It occurred to her that Magnolia must have never seen the way Billie talked to Phillip; it was clear, at least to Barbara, that they were fond of each other, that there was no looming in the shadows on any account.

But it was sort of fun to speculate, so she stabbed her knife into the top of her pumpkin and said, “Doesn’t it?” It was a very Gryffindor way to think, and Barbara was inclined to disagree. Killian could have had all the heart in the world and lost the duel anyway if he tripped on his shoelace or something. “I hope so too,” she said, a little crossly -- Killian, to the best of her knowledge, wasn’t even interested in Billie, so it was all sure to blow over anyway.

(It was flattering to be included when Magnolia was making such a statement of excluding the rest of Ravenclaw, at least.)

“Ach,” she said with surprise, fumbling the pumpkin and setting it down hastily -- “Don’t be silly, nobody.” If she and Owain were in danger of anything -- and they weren’t -- but if they were -- she doubted it’d be because of Owain. It was Barbara, after all, who sat day and night thinking that they couldn’t possibly last. It was Barbara who’d gotten insecure about them. Owain was the same sweet boy he’d been her whole life. She gave her pumpkin a doleful look and added, “I don’t reckon not, at least.”

Barbie was making a very fair point, the two boys were right about the same height, and had she not been as close to Killian as she was, she might have found him just as intimidating as she often found Phillip. But then again, no, Killian had never exuded that entire better than you peasants feeling she often got from Phillip, which was interesting because she also didn’t think it had much to do with money or social class just the general air of aloofness that surrounded the older boy. Maybe it was age, too, or the fact that her gaggle of girlfriends could probably light an entire room on fire with their fits of giggles and gossip.

But that was the whole thing about being in relationships, that you sort of ended up dating the friends too, and if you couldn’t stand them then there seemed no point in hoping that the relationship would survive past the honeymoon stage. Magnolia wasn’t going to actively try to break the pair up (theoretically) because she didn’t have that sort of power over anyone. However, she wasn’t going out of her way to facilitate it, either. Billie was just as theirs as she was Phillip’s, and he would have to learn to share. Her relationship with Killian, however, was a different thing altogether and as things began to unfold (or at least seemed to unfold, one never knew) it seemed like it was plenty better than the situation the poor girl was in now.

“But Billie’s terribly private, I wouldn’t even know she had a boyfriend if he wasn’t always acting like her bodyguard,” she reasoned. Magnolia was very protective of Billie but also knew very little about her; she was quiet, private, and spent much of their time together listening rather than actively participating (though it was nearly impossible to get a word in when Mavis and Magnolia got into it). If something was going on between Killian and Billie, Magnolia would probably have better luck finding out from him rather than from her. Now she just needed an "in".

“I’m not trying to pick favorites, but--” she started, though at this point there was no fooling anyone, she was clearly and shamelessly biased, “I’m glad she has better options and if I were her, I’d seriously consider them. What’s the point of having a boyfriend that’s about to graduate anyway? Weekend dates at Hogsmeade for two years?” she wrinkled her nose at the thought, she was overdramatizing again, “Boring. No, thank you,” she added. Then again, what did the Gryffindor know about boyfriends and dates? Nothing, nothing at all.

Turning to Barbie she smiled, finding the topic of relationships of much more interest where her friends were involved. At this rate, she would never have a boyfriend anyway so that made it ten times easier to nosily ask for details relating to the relationships of others. “Good, Owain seems pretty nice anyway, I approve,” she giggled. Barbie did not need her approval, of course, but Owain was welcomed at their table anytime, he seemed nice enough. “How did the two of you meet, anyway? Tell me everything!”

Billie was terribly private; it was part of what endeared her to Barbara. She might have been instability incarnate sometimes, and she might have issues and insecurities, but they’d never had to discuss those much to support each other through them -- not like Gryffindors seemed to be, sharing every thought they had willy-nilly no matter how improper it might be.  “I suppose,” she said. “Well, I reckon ‘bodyguard’ is a little strong.”

Magnolia asserted that she wasn’t trying to pick favourites, which was a transparent lie; Barbara shrugged, unsure she wanted to draw comparisons of who, between Killian and Phillip, was better. Killian was certainly friendlier, but Phillip probably knew Billie better. Phillip probably knew Billie better than Barbara did.

Unfortunately, though, Magnolia made a good deal of sense. Billie and Phillip didn’t seem like the sort for Hogsmeade weekend dates. It would be the same in another year with her and Owain, too. “It is sort of odd to think about,” she allowed, “I guess it won’t be too surprising if that makes things weird.”

She turned a little pink at Magnolia’s line of questioning -- another thing she and Billie had in common was discomfort with talking about themselves too much. “Oh, stop it, you,” she said, flattered, “Yeah, he’s pretty nice.” She hadn’t tried much to bring him around Magnolia and Mavis and the rest, mostly because they were Billie’s friends more than hers and partly because she didn’t like introductions. It was still good to have the approval, even though (she assured herself firmly) she didn’t need it.

“We met when we were five and six, like,” she said, “He goes to the same ballet school as I do, we even used to dance together some of the time.” Not lately, of course -- Owain was half a foot taller than she was. “I guess we sort of were close for a while and, you know, it made sense.”