You can see the light of the stars at night only because of the darkness of space. By putting two separate things or concepts together, you can create contrast. This act is called juxtaposition
"Here," Alex said, his hand extending into Eve's vision.
They were walking through what remained of the castle, headed to whatever room Slughorn had procured for his Christmas festivities. The trek was without haste or urgency, and they would most certainly be one of the last to show up. Without cause for caution, the witch eyed the golden-rimmed, leather-embedded flask that was being handed to her. It was already uncorked, so she reached for it, brought it to her lips, and pitched her head back as she accepted the intoxicant with a more than generous gulp.
"What is this?" Eve questioned as her face began to twist. The initially severe bitter bite slowly departed to some peculiar sweetness as it further penetrated her. She scrutinized the flask in her hand, peering down through the hole to see if she could make out any specific color. She couldn't.
"Nothing you would know," Alex responded. "It's muggle." Eve licked her lips, but her eyes bulged slightly as she focused on the walk in front of them. She blinked, taking it in. The need to still the wobbling image made her stop, causing Alex to turn towards her. A smirk began to band his lips. "It's strong, luv."
"Bloody hell, it is," she muttered.
"Give it here," Alex told her, taking the flask back into his own grip. Instead of closing the cap, as Eve had thought, she was left to gawk at him as he took another round of whatever it was he had coralled for the evening.
"Alex," Eve began as they resumed their walk. "I think I'm drunk already."
"Nah," Alex assured her. "It tricks you like that. Wait until it really hits."
"What'd you say it was again?"
"I didn't," he pointed out, emitting a chortle. "It's absinthe. Hapsburg absinthe."
"Hapsburg absinthe?" Eve repeated to herself.
"Muggles know what they're doing," Alex said, laughing. The drink he had been sipping on while waiting for Eve in the common room had already taken to infecting his sanity. With no doubt, he was already strides ahead of the witch. "We're going to have tons of fun tonight, Eve. You'll see. We're going to turn this castle upside down. They won't know what hit 'em."
Eve had come to learn that those were his slogans, his taglines. It was the words and quotes he knew to say so easily. Without thought. She pursed her lips, taking a deep breath. Eve knew that she couldn't risk becoming what she had become, but this time she was going to make sure she didn't make a cocktail of it. He could promise all the fun he wanted, but unless Alex planned on ending up somewhere in the middle of the Great Lake with her, he would be left to do half of it on his own.
So, the fun that was being promised would have to wait to be seen.
Eventually, the festive mood irradiated into everyone's veins. Sure, the elderflower wine and butterbeer helped, but whatever it was, people were laughing and dancing and eating and having a jolly ol' time. As everyone else chittered and chatted away, Eve found herself sitting alone. Alex had long gone off with some blindingly white-toothed wizard from the Greek Ministry, nowhere to be seen. She had briefly searched for him, but then found that it was better not to go looking in places she was unwanted.
Her fingers wrapped around the thin silver laced flute in front of her and lifted it to her lips. The berry tanginess of the violet drink sparked all over her tongue. It was churning with the Hapsburg poison that Alex had been doling out all evening, dulling her senses. Her eyes wandered over everybody, mismatched and oddly placed amongst the room. Some by the buffet, others tripping over one another as they tried to salvage themselves on drink and cured meats galore. Eve couldn't help a smirk as she caught sight of Professor Kettleburn ranting away to a very flustered, red-faced Flitwick, who seemed to be doing his best to avoid combusting in front of his students and faculty members.
After the initial amusement had subsided, she lifted her eyes away from the pair. The chair beside her screeched, and a peal of rambunctious laughter filled her every bibulous thought. She turned with her cheek placed into her palm to smile lazily at the newcomer.
"Eve," Alex managed as best as possible with what little he had left of sanity. He plopped himself down into the seat while Eve briefly glanced at his mis-buttoned shirt pulled out of the waist of his trousers. His jacket was missing, and his shiny, loose curls were stretched in every way imaginable. It was not the same wizard she had come with. "Eve, this party isn't that bad, is it?"
"Sure," Eve offered, lifting her glass up to him. Alex pulled out his flask and clinked it against her own. They both threw their heads back simultaneously to take in the drink.
"Fuck me, I think I love the bloody Hapsburgs," the wizard muttered as the lingering remnants of the strong liquor engaged him. Then, he leaned forward to whisper into Eve's ear while keeping his eyes in the distance. "You reckon we should do any of… You know that?"
"Do what you want," Eve replied, shooting him an apprehensive glance. "I'm okay with this." She tapped a finger against her glass to indicate that drunkenness and drunkenness alone would suffice for the time being.
"Suit yourself. If you change your mind, luv, no need to ask." Alex reached into his pocket, and Eve caught his fingers maneuvering just right so he could chip off a piece of the crystal. Immediately, she turned to refocus her attention on the other partygoers to ensure they were well in the palls. But he was quick, for before she knew it, Alex had his mouth opened, and the crystal was working its way, melting on his tongue. She sat back in her seat, arms crossed and breath held.
Should could just take a smaller dose.
Couldn't she?
What was the worst that could happen? It wasn't as if they would devour the entire crystal at Slughorn's Christmas Party.
Right?
"Found Moira with Black and Slughorn," Alex eventually said, a new light sparking up his tone. Eve remained as she was, her eyes centered on the decoration in the middle of the table as she ruminated about what was and wasn't acceptable under such circumstances. Completely fixated on what was in Alex's pocket, much less what was on his mind. "She doesn't spend much time with me anymore, you know?"
"No?" Eve delivered in return for conversation's sake, because she knew Alex was aching for a conversation. For anything, really.
"Black," Alex replied, his foot thumping under the table at a thousand miles an hour. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "She's obsessed with him."
"Obsessed?"
"Yeah." His words began to trail off as his sights rocketed around the room. "Maybe, they're shagging."
"Are they?" Eve inquired, her brows lifting ever so slightly but without fully considering his words. Even if she had, she carried little to contribute to the gossip. She didn't spend much time brooding about Regulus Black and Moira Palancher. Who does? Eve thought to herself as she mindlessly spun the stem of the glass between her fingers.
"Wild, it'd be." Eve jolted in her seat as an unexpectedly hearty chuckle rang out from Alex. He had to lean forward to cover his face, clamping his mouth behind his palm to mask the sound as all eyes turned on them.
"What?" Eve quizzed, shaking her head once, but she could not partake in Alex's laughter. Even if she did understand why he was laughing. Her thoughts still lingered on what she should and shouldn't do. As if she had to make a decision, even though there was no real decision to be made. And yet, the pressure was there— pressing into her.
"Imagine Moira and Black shagging," Alex clarified through heaves of air. "Bloody hilarious— Eve, could you imagine?"
"I couldn't, no," she admitted.
"Merlin," he cursed, regaining his composure to the best of his ability. "Merlin, Eve. Talk about mommy issues, ha!"
"Mommy issues?" Eve repeated, her chin narrowly tilted down into her neck.
"Mommy issues, luv, they all have it," Alex explained, waving a hand over the crowd in front of him with a slight smirk. "When you want your mother to love you, but she can't 'cause she's a bitch and a half, so you fuck people who are like her to fill the void."
"Pardon?"
"Mommy issues," Alex affirmed. The smirk on his face transformed into a silly, lopsided grin.
"And which of the two are you assuming has this… predicament?" Eve asked.
"Black, obviously," he answered with a snort.
"You think Walburga Black is like Palancher?" There was no answer to this question, for the glimmer in his eyes began to darken as they looked upon one another.
Eve did not need anything but to raise her sight to locate their peers in question. She observed Moira, who was indeed accomplishing what people were supposed to at these events; just as Alex had said she would many months ago. She was not dressed in traditional pureblood clothes but remained refined with her colorful and bright patterns. Her presence commanded itself without having to do much at all, and people engaged her freely and amiably. Regulus stood beside her, slightly to the side, almost in her shadow. Eve tilted her head but then glimpsed up to the ceiling. There was not much there for her, either. She came to a hasty and singular conclusion that she didn't give a fuck if Moira Palancher and Walburga Black were soul sisters or not.
"What about you? Who do you want to shag, Eve?"
"Me?" Eve's chin flinched inward as the tables turned on her. Alex lifted his brows and looked down at her. His vision was loaded with mischief and sultriness, making her unsure whether the absinthe, the crystal, or the topic at hand caused it. "I don't know. No one?"
"Lies," Alex muttered, lazily swatting his hand at her. "We always want to shag someone— even if we don't know it. Always. It's the natural state, you know?"
"Is it?"
"Yeah, it's how we leave our mark on the world," he continued, laughing by himself at the unspoken irony of his words. "We always want to fuck— all the time."
"I doubt that."
"You never wanted to shag anyone in your entire life, Kavanagh?"
Eve didn't respond immediately. She didn't know what to tell him because Eve hadn't thought of it herself. The witch spent every day of her life worrying that she would kill a whole school of people— that had been the case ever since she turned 14. It wasn't as if she had been gifted the chance or possibility to see herself as much more than a threat. A threat to everyone and anyone within her vicinity.
Except it wasn't that Eve wasn't partaking because she didn't think she could. No, Eve had just never found the time to entertain such things. She was either hiding, running, or drowning— there wasn't much room for fancying, courting and shagging. How was anyone supposed to attract anyone while in hiding? It was like war— most of the time was spent in the trenches. There was no courtship in the trenches. While thoughts lingered of a life that had once been, that's all it was— a life that had once been. In the current state, which was the most important to Eve, the only goal was to get out of the trenches alive. To survive every shell, every bomb, every peril.
"Never ever ever?" Alex pressed on, nudging her side with his elbow. Eve's blurred vision refocused on the wizard.
"You have any of that absinthe left?"
"Sure," he answered, passing the flask to her without further question. The gold edge came to her lips, and she took a hearty sip. The burn mingled with the fire already enflamed within her from the slow sipping of what now seemed more and more like diluted grape juice. But it allowed for the memory of a life once had return.
"I kissed someone once," she disclosed after the liquid had evaporated.
"Thank Merlin," Alex said with another snort attached.
"Then, he ran away."
She hadn't thought of any of it in such a long time— she hadn't had the chance, not while in the trenches. But she hadn't always been a banshee, and she hadn't always been addicted to sedatives. Once upon a time, Eve had been a very normal witch with more than normal habits. Sure, she didn't have much time to enjoy the fruits that came with growing up, but she did have a taste of them. A taste that had long disappeared.
"Ouch," he commented. "You speak since?"
"No, not really."
"Double ouch."
"I wanted him to touch me," she divulged, tilting her head to the side as the smell of roses and sea salt blinded her senses. "But I don't think he wanted to."
"Then, why'd he kiss you?"
"Probably a game."
"What?" Alex blurted out, his brows shooting upward. "Like truth or dare?"
"Maybe."
"Tosser."
Eve took another sip from the flask, a smaller one. Indeed, she had wanted him to touch her— she had not wanted him to stop. They had been so young, but she remembered that it was the first time her body felt warm from head to toe. It was felt all over. She hadn't known that was possible. An ache inside her chest wanted to grab him and force him to return. When he had left, he had left for good. Slowly, the silence grew between them, and, at one point, she could even swear he had broken her heart.
Only a couple of weeks later, she would become a banshee, and that memory had no place in her life anymore.
It was another life, another Eve. A different Eve. She was no longer who she used to be, and she could see that every time she looked in a mirror, every time she saw a failing grade on her parchment, every time she forgot to respond to her father's letters from home. It was more than obvious how far she had strayed, and there was no way back, either.
"This recent?" Alex inquired. Eve shook her head.
"Years."
"Years!?" He scoffed, almost choking on his own breath. "Eve— what about now? You don't want someone— I don't believe it, not for a second." He glanced down at her, continuously shaking his head in short intervals. "You shagging someone now, are you?"
"What?" Finally, Eve began to laugh. "No, I'm not." Alex's face fell.
"Fuck, I actually believe you," he mumbled, observing her face. "There's got to be someone, though. At least, someone you want to shag."
"Who?" They both stared at one another. Alex's eyes rose to the wall over the top of her head, blinking, then looked back down at her. But without responding, his gaze lifted again, and he tilted his head ever so slightly. His eyes narrowed on the group sitting towards the back of the room, out of Eve's line of sight unless she, too, turned around. But she knew better than to do that. It would be too obvious. She would simply wait for Alex to finish his investigation.
"The options are minimal," he confirmed slowly, his eyes mimicking the speed of his words as they fell back onto the witch. With the awareness gained through the taste of the gift in his pocket, Alex scrutinized Eve's face again. "How is it that you and Lupin know one another? I forgot."
"Forgot?" Eve had to stifle a chortle. "You never asked."
"Right," Alex paused, "so?"
"He's tutoring me in Transfiguration," she fully admitted. Half of it was the liquor; the other half was that she had put two and two together and figured that Alex had a secret of his own that he was inclined to keep under wraps. The sweat staining the back of his shirt was more than indicative that whoever he had run off with had been more than just a friendly chat to secure a future career. Or, maybe, it was Alex's way of handling business— again, whatever it was, Alex's business was his own. Eve could and would look the other way, and at the same time, the knowledge was of value to her.
"Is that some sort of code to say you're shagging?"
"No." Eve shook her head again. "He's really tutoring me. McGonagall made him. I was failing."
"Poor bloke," Alex gibed, collapsing to the back of his chair. "Why didn't McGonagall just kick you out?"
"I don't know," Eve confessed, both of them looking at one another. She sighed. "I don't know. Sometimes, I wish she had." Alex's face dropped at her admission.
"Well," he began, taking the flask back from her after she had taken another sip. "I can't blame you. I fucking hate that class, too." He helped himself to another round of absinthe. "I need to bloody dance. Why is no one dancing? Merlin's sake."
"What's everyone looking at?" Lily asked cheerfully, re-seating herself next to Remus and setting down a plate of Victoria sponge cake with extra cream piled high. Dirk Cresswell eyed the concoction with great curiosity and amusement as Remus reached forward to take a sip from his spiked eggnog.
Marlene followed, pulling out the chair next to Lily's and dropping two plates overflowing with food. One had an array of desserts and the other a mess of whatever she could get her hands on. Lily observed each of their faces, each surveying and shifting between the three plates. She did her best to push down the pumpkin juice she had already consumed, nearly choking on it as she came upon Remus' furrowed brows and pained expression.
"Trust me, I tried to tell her that she'd have a funny stomach if she mixed the smoked salmon with the Caerphilly cheese, but—"
"My stomach's made of steel," Marlene interjected through a mush of food.
"You're going to stink the entire room up," Dirk commented, grimacing. "One time, we made Ted here eat an entire plate of different cheeses from all over Britain. He couldn't contain himself."
Remus leaned back and stroked his throat as he grimaced at a memory of his own when Peter had taken to a diet of eating solely cheese, bread, and crackers for what was an entirely too extended period of time.
"Couldn't stop farting all night," Ted Patel added, shaking his head as he chuckled. "Had the others sleeping on the couch— just couldn't stand it."
"Please, I'm eating," Marlene grumbled.
Everyone at the table laughed, but Remus was the first to falter, trailing off as he lifted his eyes away from them and over to the distance. It had been a rather irksome habit of his throughout the course of the night. No matter how much he tried to avoid it. Somehow, there she was. And, indeed, nothing had changed in the five minutes he had been distracted. She was still sitting obediently, although no longer alone. Alexander Sykes had appeared from somewhere during their talk of the dairy diaries of Ted Patel. Both Slytherins were seated alone at a table suited for a group of eight. She seemed to be in a similar position of listening and speaking so lowly that her lips barely moved. Neither of them looked to be at all interested in what was happening around them, nor were they making any attempts to be, either.
Then, as if on cue, Alex's eyes met his— and the two of them were now watching one another. The Slytherin's stare thinned ever so slightly, but there was no indication of invitation or acknowledgment. Alex only returned to engage Eve, who, as Remus put together, was Alexander Sykes' date to the blasted Christmas Party. Because Eve was not the socialite that Horace Slughorn ached and chased after— despite her name. So, her presence was only explained by Alex. The realization that she was Alex's date to the Christmas Party had sparked a swarm in his head that rivaled those of the past. Was it possible that the two were more than just friends? How had he missed that one? Since when?
"Didn't even say hi," Lily grumbled once she had found what Remus had been looking at. "I'm Head Girl. They didn't even say hi. Not even Sykes, and he's a prefect."
"Did you try to say hi to them?" Remus asked, slowly turning to look at her.
"Kavanagh had been pouring herself a glass of wine while I was getting pumpkin juice," the witch explained. "And Sykes interrupted a conversation I was having with Theopoulous. He works with—"
"I know who he is," he told her. Lily shook her head.
"Interrupted," she repeated. "Who the fuck interrupts a conversation?"
"Don't worry about them," Remus consoled. "That's just how they are."
"Rude?" Lily articulated, staring up at him with a pointed expression. "It's bloody rude; that's what they are."
Remus' knuckles knocked against his thigh, blinking away as he downed his drink in one go and lost himself in the temporary, primary high it sent to his head. Despite his inclinations towards both the Slytherins, he caged his words and internally amended that rude was one way to put it while sheer blindness was another. If he had learned anything of the Slytherins, it was that their house sigil should have been a bat and not a snake. Except he was in no rush to defend them, for their presence pinched away at him. It ate and chewed at him, keeping him from swooping in to salvage their names.
"It's odd," Lily announced from Alex's side. He cocked a brow in her direction as she came to stand next to him, bearing a goblet in her hand that she held close to her chest. "You would think there'd be more of the Sacred-28 invited. Alas, it's only you and Black. Odd, isn't it?"
"I'm not on the Sacred-28," Alex immediately contended. As the answer reached her ears, the goblet that had been held so close to her breast came down to her side. Lily blinked, her attention darting around the room before making its way back to the wizard's empty stare.
"What!?" Lily sputtered. "You're not!?" Her face began to light up with a shade that mirrored the color of her hair.
It had been her arsenal. It had been her battle plan, her operation, to put a foot into whatever giddiness Alex was wobbling about with that night. The same giddiness and hubris that turned him confident enough to interrupt her earlier conversation and then proceed to ignore her. It had not stopped there. Everyone and anyone at that party had gone out of their way introduce themselves or to catch up with him, too. The Gryffindor had kept close watch, and each interaction only ignited her further. So, Lily began to devise a plan of how she would re-prove her existence at the event; how she, too, was deserving of an invitation. The main and final target: Alexander Sykes.
"Nah," Alex said, tossing crystallized ginger into his mouth. "Why? Does everyone think I am?"
"Yes?" Lily responded, trying to find her way back to the road that had led her there.
"Idiots," the Slytherin remarked, snorting. "That's how you know that list is shite. No one even knows who's on it."
"You think the list is shite?" Lily examined. Despite her own efforts, the words began to sound more like a genuine search than the confrontation she had been pursuing.
"Luv, if it wasn't, it'd look a lot more like the Sacred 500," Alex articulated, obnoxiously using his tongue to scrape out the stuck pieces of jelly between his teeth. "Really, though, Cankerous Nott—"
"—Cantankerus—"
"—had a stick up his arse. Only put his own in, and whoever kissed that arse."
"You're having a laugh?"
"Am I laughing?" Alex returned, sparing the witch a brief glance. "No, so think about it."
"I have," Lily revealed, her brows furrowing. Alex popped another candy into his mouth, waiting for it to be fully masticated and swallowed before continuing to dwell on the Gryffindor's perturbations.
"So, think about it— Potter and I didn't make the cut, but the bloody Longbottoms, Weasleys, and Ollivanders did?" He blew a raspberry. "McKinnon and the rest of the Scottish?" Alex threw another ginger into his mouth, but this time met Lily's stare head-on. "It's ridiculous. He had it out for us. Probably didn't like my aunt and her stunt to the Americas. Utter bollocks. Fuck do I know?" He shrugged. "Don't care, either."
Lily was left with her lips barely parted as she stared at the Slytherin wizard, who chewed and chewed and chewed away at the spiced candies in his hand. As if the sugared ginger was the primary concern, and the witch only a mere second or third — if even that.
"So, why does everyone think you are?"
"People believe anything if you have enough power to make them. Honestly, it's not that hard." For a brief moment, Lily could swear he saw him frown. But it was over as quickly as it had been, if it had ever been in the first place. "Everyone knows we're at the top. There's no debating it. They crawl at our feet like we're kings or something. It's a bit pitiful, honestly."
"But how did you get to the top?" Lily paused, her brows scrunching even deeper as she tried to configure it. "If you're not on the Sacred-28, that would mean you're… I don't know, you're not the purest of the pure..."
For many reasons, the sudden information imparted to her by the Slytherin wizard blurred the world in front of her in a way that no one and nothing had ever done before. Everything she thought she knew was beginning to warble and waver. She ached for more clarification so she could make sense of it. And the only person who seemed able to offer her that clarification was the same person who found more interest in candy than in a human being.
"Power, luv, it doesn't have to do with blood."
"What does it have to do with, then?" Lily interrogated, her nostrils slightly flared. "Everything's about blood in this world! Or haven't you noticed from atop your castle and your bloody ginger candies?" Her rant was interrupted by another one of Alex's infamous snorts. It made her want to rip at his vocal cords.
"Who the fuck told you that? Power is power, luv. We got to the top 'cause we made the right decisions— that's all you have to do. You can fool everyone if you have enough power." He brought his eyes to meet hers, inclining his head in her direction. "I just did with you."
"And what decisions are those, Sykes?" As the smack began to subside, she now aimed to place his words into a box— into a framework that fit. Because in their world, lists and boxes were the norm and not the exception.
"The right ones," he reiterated, lifting the corner of his mouth.
"And what's that?"
Another silence ensued, but Alex eventually let up once he had satisfied his sweet tooth and had taken a sip from whatever was in his goblet. Lily could smell something akin to the cleaning liquid her mother used to scrub the bathrooms at home. It made her question whether anything the wizard said could be believed, or whether they were just the words of a drunk.
"We own the Daily Prophet, the publishing company that prints our schoolbooks and any other British wizarding book, really." He stopped, his lips lingering open with the beginnings of further explanation. In essence, Alexander Sykes was freely spilling family secrets to someone who was no more than a stranger. He knew that, but a mix of animosity and intoxicants coursed through him at that very moment. So, loose lips it was. "We bought, and buy, any and all competition. One by one."
Lily blinked. Then, the really smack came. Someone owned the Daily Prophet— the only wizarding newspaper in all of Britain. Of course, someone did. Someone had to, but for whatever reason, she had thought the Daily Prophet was run and printed by their Ministry. No, it was Alexander Sykes and his family. They owned the Daily Prophet. They were singlehandedly responsible for all information and knowledge disseminated throughout wizarding Great Britain. What the fuck?
"So, what? We shagged a couple muggles on our way up," Alex unrelentlessly continued, for the wizard was ignited, drunk, and focused all at once. "We still made it to the top. We're wealthier than half of that blasted list combined. Since then, they've all been fighting over who is and isn't on the list, to maintain some damned ideal. Honestly, that bastard left us off the list, and we were able to sideline all of them and just keep on rising. Up, up, up." His hand lifted as he said the words, then it dropped without grace or caution as a chortle escaped him. "They cater to us all the time now. Just goes to show where power really resides."
"Do you realize how much of a threat that is?"
"A threat?" Alex repeated.
"Yes, to democracy."
"What fucking democracy?" He chuckled. "You think this is a democracy? Luv, it hasn't been, and I reckon it never will be. Not really."
Lily looked out to the rest of the invitees, her whole world spinning. Alexander Sykes, a pureblood wizard, was not revered because his family had made it on some list. No, they hadn't made it. They made it because they had made choices. They had seen an opportunity and banked on it. It was well known that the Sykes' family was powerful, but she had always thought they were in politics. Everyone had said they were in politics. Sure, one could phrase it that way, but they weren't really in politics. They were the ones controlling the politics.
And just about everything else.
"What..." She emitted under a slow breath. Lily shook her head to wake herself up. "Surely, though, being a pureblood helps."
"Yeah, having a good name helps, but the name, luv, not the blood." Alex and Lily met one another's stares again. "As you can see, once you're high enough, they don't think twice about the blood part. No one remembers fucking blood, no one remembers who did and didn't fuck a muggle or whatever. Names, on the other hand, they'll remember that."
"But the list clearly matters," Lily rehashed.
"Maybe in here, but seriously, if people think I'm on the Sacred-28, how much does it really matter here?" He jutted his chin out to the crowd. "Look, you just said it— Slughorn only invited the Blacks. Why?"
Lily took a deep breath as she considered it, her gaze dropping to the ground.
"But..." She looked back up to the wizard. "How do you get that high?"
Alex snorted at the multitude of meanings of that question. He almost wanted to tell her that he had the answer right in his pocket, but one look at the witch, and he knew she was way too far from the likes of him. Lily Evans was the type to think that a Hogsmeade weekend and an afternoon spent at the Three Broomsticks with her mates was the pinnacle of fun. So, seeing as he had nothing else to do, he entertained her with what she deemed appropriate party chat. He had nothing to lose; he had already won everything anyone could possibly want.
"Make the right moves, take advantage where and whenever you can," Alex spelled out for her.
"How does... How would I do that?" Lily blatantly asked as if he had the answers in the first place. She gulped. A reality settled in: she came from a working-class muggle family. She came from an industrial suburban town that no one knew about. How would she ever rise to the top?
"Don't know, be really good at something?" Alex suggested.
She sighed, for, in the end, it was not him who had made the right moves. It had been someone else. Whoever that someone else was, however, had a brain and a half. They had a brain and a half and the means to do it— it wasn't as austere as Alexander Sykes was making it out to be. She knew that.
"Someone like me, I would... I don't know. I'd have to know the right people," Lily speculated aloud. Alex just shrugged. "There's no way else. I don't see how else I could manage something like that."
"Marry someone," he offered with a severe look of dispassion striking his features while immaculately maintaining severity. He was not joking, Lily realized.
"That's fucked."
"Is it?"
"Yes," Lily scowled. "Yes— I'm a more than capable witch. I don't need a wizard to help me with anything."
"No one's saying that, luv," Alex clarified, rolling his eyes. "Marry someone, get the name, then enter the game. Fuck it, who'll know? No one'll remember your blood— they'll only remember your name." His eyes met hers. "You need a better name, is all."
"That's so entirely fucked," she spat out again.
"Well, how badly do you want to be at the top?" Alex held her stare, digging deeper and deeper into her. It was as if he could read what had never been read before. As if he knew things about Lily that not even her closest friends knew.
Of course he did, because Lily Evans may seem like the witch suited for cottage life, but the Slytherin wizard was primed and built for competition. These were the people who placed ambition over everything else, no matter the cost. Bloodhounds. They could smell it, and Alex knew that Lily reeked of it. He could see the thirst inside her. The same way that Severus had been able to see it. Lily knew that.
There was nothing left for her to say. What she had come to do had turned like a spinning top, and it was still spinning.
Lily finally stared out at the crowd again. Now, Lily was not one to claim that she was power-hungry, but the sudden twist of events, as handed by the Slytherin wizard, had her questioning everything. If one could rise to the top without the play of blood being all that important, if one could fake it until they made it, then what was keeping her from doing just that? She had been made to feel inferior all her life— and she battled that. She campaigned against it. But never had she thought, never had anyone told her that she, too, could be at the top if she just made the right moves. They had always told her this was the way things were, and she would always be written off to the bottom. Unless she was good enough, then she would be accepted, but still, she would be the best of the bottom. The best of the bottom. As if it were something to celebrate. Deep within, she felt as if she had been cheated, as if someone had left her in the dark for too long.
There were exceptions. Exceptions existed, which meant she could be an exception. No one told her she could be an exception, and Lily wanted to be an exception. No one had said anything of the sort until Alexander Sykes had enlightened her. The fucking top of the top had to tell the bottom of the bottom that passes were being given out all the time. Power was being negotiated and re-negotiated. It was not static— as that fucking list would have her believe.
Why had no one fucking told her that? Fuck all that talk of she was just as good. No, she wanted to be told that she, too, could be it.
She almost wanted to shake Alexander Sykes' hand, but instead, Lily walked away with a new coloring staining everything that came before her.
"Fancy finding you here."
Remus turned his head away from the window, lifting his chin as the image became clearer. He let out a sigh and relished in another long drag, pretending to be amused with how the smoke mixed with his winter's breath only to create an even more giant cloud of it. It was only a ploy to grant him more time. For, at the same time, he warily noted the being growing closer and closer to his right. Eventually, she helped herself to the seat next to him in the alcove. He could smell her now, some sort of flowery scent that he had the name of on the tip of his tongue mixed with alcohol. It was not the elderflower or Goblin wine, either. It was something else. Strong enough to become her perfume.
"For someone with so many friends, you're always alone," Eve commented, surveying the side of his face.
Remus shifted, placing the back of his head against the stone wall. Seconds of silence passed between them, because, and though he would never say it, he had hoped that if anyone had found him partaking in his vices, it wouldn't have been her. As a matter of fact, Remus had spent most of his evening trying to avoid her, despite knowing that the chances of her approaching were slim to none. Alas, how wrong he had been; how wrong has he always been about her.
"I was just with them."
"I see."
"And I needed a smoke," he further explained, lifting the cigarette to show her.
"Something to do," Eve repeated his own words back to him. He lifted a brow, and both looked at one another, but it did not last. His gaze dropped down to the light blue robes she wore, and there was a small pin on her breast. A pin of a lion made in silver. Then, he moved his stare to the ground. For someone who had a lot to say and think, he found himself empty-handed. More than that, he wasn't jumping with joy at the intrusion either. "You're not having fun, are you?"
"Are you drunk?" Remus blurted, overriding her own attempt at conversation. She responded with a short giggle, and that answered his question. "Of course." He took a drag from his cigarette, placing his attention back on the grounds below him. "Should you really be drinking?"
"Everyone's drinking."
"Yeah, but," he sighed, "should you be drinking?"
Eve's face fell, her eyes dancing from Remus, to the cigarette, to the window and then back again to Remus.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Remus began, his chest visibly puffing upward as he took in a deep breath. "You know what I mean. It doesn't need saying."
He refused to look at her, but she maintained her stare on him. Eve couldn't help but think that the friendly chat she had sought after her return from the bathroom had occurred at the least opportune of moments. Remus' guard was up. It was as obvious as anything, but the question that remained was why? Was it her? Or had something happened that had nothing to do with her?
"I'm fine," Eve told him.
"Are you?" Remus challenged, finally turning to look at her. "You and Sykes— he's been feeding you drink all night. Don't say it's not true."
"I don't see how that's any of your business," she retorted while leaning back to gather a better picture of what was in front of her. Maybe, it was her.
"It's my business if you end up burning someone because of it." Remus lifted his brows and shot her a pointed look. "Again."
Eve visibly paused, taken aback by the sudden mention of her past failures. Remus could not bring himself to continue looking at her, instead ripping his sights away from her to castigate himself on his own admissions. They had not been honest. Not really. He knew that— he didn't think Eve could hurt someone; he knew she could be guided to do the right thing. So, where was all this vitriol coming from? Why was he attacking someone who had not come to shoot him?
"I see," Eve said, running a hand over her thighs. She clasped onto the material covering them, enmeshing it between her fingers. "Well, it won't come to that."
"I know it won't," Remus disclosed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."
"Why did you?"
He froze, mainly because he, too, was trying to understand why he had done it in the first place. What was hidden underneath his own layers? Maybe, it was her presence alone that had enflamed it. Remus had had little chance to come to terms with what had transpired between him and Lily in the library, the words that had been spoken, the underlining messages and purposes of his actions remained unanswered. He still had not come around to figuring it out himself, for he had opted for a path of ignorance and indifference. But with Eve being there, he didn't have the option. Would he continue to sidetrack her as best as he could until he was certain all of it had been a farce? Remus glimpsed at her face, and it only took a second to figure out that he was driving a nail into a broken mirror. Immediately, he forced himself to loosen up.
But what did he want, then?
On the one hand, he wanted Eve to stay— to repeat back to her all the knowledge he had acquired. To finalize the final details, to make the picture whole. He only needed one or two things to confirm it. Or, he could just spit it out— wait for her reaction, read it, analyze it. Merlin, did he know more than he should. And all of that knowledge was confined. It was bunched up and beginning to rot inside of him. Remus yearned to tell her, to ask her, to talk to her about it. But, at the same time, he wanted Eve to be far away. Far enough that he could liberally deconstruct every single thought, action, and word that had to do with the two of them; until he could confidently conclude what was really happening between them. With her close, this close, he could not do any of that. He could not think. Not straight, at least.
"Because," Remus explained. "You realize this person made you drunk during the game, and that's why you almost burned Lily, right?" He scoffed, unsure where any of this was coming from. Why had he chosen now to dig up the past? "He's not… He's a terrible influence, Eve."
"This person?" Eve repeated. "Alex, you mean?"
"Who else?"
"Alex doesn't make me do anything I don't want to," she assured him.
"Sure, but he's still your…"
"My?" Eve goaded him into finishing his sentence, bending her head forward.
"Your, I don't know, boyfriend, partner?" he concluded uneasily, but blushed as the words came out. Remus shook his head, holding his temple by his hand. "Not a great one, I reckon."
Much to his surprise, Eve began to laugh— freely. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, but the sound still came out. Remus did not move, didn't dare move. All he did was stare at the shaking figure. Why was Eve laughing at him?
Eve most likely would not have laughed if his speculation had been dealt to her at any point before that night. But, the thing was, just as she had known would happen with Remus, the same had happened with Alex. Slowly, she had begun to discover the two of them in almost an equal manner, on the same timeline. And she knew Alex and Jason Theopoulos did not run off to some empty classroom in the middle of a party to play cards earlier that evening.
"Alex and I are not together," Eve eventually managed, calming herself. Remus remained still.
"You're not?"
"No, and we never will be."
"Never say never," Remus contended as he narrowed his eyes on her.
"No, I'm quite certain."
"How?"
"It's Alex's business," was all she said. It was all someone like Remus needed. Immediately, it clicked in his own head.
Remus chewed on his inner cheek, taking it in.
There was only so much that could be Alex's business. There was only so much that could explain why Eve was so confident Alex would never take to her. Why she had laughed in his face the way she had when he had suggested it, and what would explain a part of Alex's own oddities and quirks. What made him stand out so starkly from the rest of them. Like Eve, there was a reason why Alex was the way he was. There was a reason why he was crowned the school's alcoholic, why he was more or less a loner. There was a reason why Alex and Eve had found solace with one another, because, whether they knew it or not— the two were probably more alike than similar.
Remus found himself, yet again, in a familiar position. One of which had become something of a recent trend. The position where he knew an unconfirmed secret, but which was too obvious to not be true. He had not one but two people who held secrets as deep as his own. Sure, Alex was no werewolf, but he would be crucified throughout the school and higher society with only a handful willing to accept him. He would be discarded to the position of other, always seen as something less than what he actually was.
And, in a way, Remus' heart clenched as he brought the picture together. With a sigh, he let it go. Whatever chains had held him in place just disappeared. Qualms, inquiries, disappointments all flew out the window as if they hadn't been there. The air around them lightened. He began to nod slowly, more for himself.
Maybe, if Remus was not who he was, he would have judged Alex. He, too, would have fallen into the same line of thinking and judgment that most others throughout their community would. But Remus was in no position to judge. Neither was Eve, by the looks of it. The wizard spared a glance at Eve, who was fumbling with the cloth of her robes. Why not? Why hadn't Eve taken up arms against Alex the way anyone else would have? The answer was simple, and even though he still lacked that confirmation, he could only guess it was because Eve, too, had something herself that needed the same kind of care and attention. So, Remus did not dwell on what Alex was or wasn't— Alexander Sykes would remain Alexander Sykes.
"You're right," he finally said. "It's his business."
"Mm."
"So, you two are just friends then?" Despite already having confirmed it, this was his attempt to salvage the evening.
"Yes."
"I thought you didn't have friends," he teased half-heartedly. Eve tilted her head back and forth, a genuine smile growing on her lips.
"Well, I suppose I made one."
"Just one?"
She met his stare.
"Two."
"Two," Remus repeated. "Finally opened your arms to Flint, did you?"
"No," Eve said, rolling her eyes. "If anything, Aphrodite's left me for Rosalia."
"Has she?"
"Yes, after what happened with Melisende," she explained, and Remus tried to find something hidden within her that indicated she was hurt, dismayed— anything. But she didn't, not in the slightest. She seemed fine with the way things were.
"So, the second is?"
"You," Eve replied in a tone that made it seem as if it was obvious. It should have been, but Remus didn't know where to place Eve anymore. He didn't know what to think of her in general. Again. Why was it always so difficult with her? Why couldn't it be easy?
"Me?"
"Or not," she amended quickly.
Eve wasn't sure why he had questioned it. Overall, Remus' general attitude towards her that evening was unlike any she had experienced before. There was a harshness tinting it, or maybe she was just drunk and not hearing him right. No, she had heard him fine. So, wasn't this what he had insisted on since the beginning? Wasn't that what he wanted? He had told her they could be friends. He had told her they were friends. And day by day, session after session, problem after problem, what was Eve left with? If Alex was her friend, then certainly Remus had to be. She would hardly call either of them her friends, but if that's what friendship was and could be for her— that's what it was.
"Maybe not, I thought..."
"I didn't think you thought I was your friend," Remus cut her off.
"I didn't think so either," Eve admitted. "But you say we are, so…"
"How come?"
"Pardon?"
"How come you didn't think we were friends?"
The real question Remus wanted to ask her was why she thought they were friends now, but he knew that it could be misinterpreted by someone like Eve. By anyone, really.
"I just thought I was the help," she replied, her voice and sight dropping at the same time.
"No," Remus said, finishing off his cigarette. "But I can see how you would see it that way." Eve nodded, and her hands were back to clutching at her robes.
He stared out at her from the corner of his eye. Remus did not know what to do. He was ready to rejoin Lily and the others. He should've been, at least, but Eve remained. And if he left, that would entail leaving her behind or pushing her in a direction she didn't seem rushed to go in. Except, Remus was also at crossroads right now. He didn't want to engage Eve as much as he usually would be able to because Eve had become a problem to him. And sitting so close to her, seeing her with Alexander Sykes, and then the relief that ensued when he discovered they were only friends, was enough to have him on edge again. Though he had been avoiding it this entire time, with her there and with everything else in the background, all that remained was two questions: Are you a monster like me? and Are we just friends? Only one of those interested him. The other one he wanted to toss into the garbage.
"So," Eve began, breaking the silence. "Are you going home for Christmas?"
"I am," Remus answered, nodding. "And you?"
"Yes," she replied. Silence overcame both of them again, causing Eve to purse her lips together as she continued to rake over the material between her fingers. It took much patience on Remus' end to not rip her hands from the satin cloth. "Are you happy to be going back?"
"Not really," he admitted, shrugging. "I like it here, but I want to see my mum."
"And your dad?"
"Him, too. I suppose."
"You don't like your dad, do you?" Eve pried, but the sudden stillness of his body made her realize she was too drunk for her own good. "Sorry, I shouldn't have." Remus didn't respond right away, instead wondering just how she had been able to pick that up with only four words.
"No, he just works a lot," he fabricated. "So, I won't see much of him anyway." Remus knew he had led her into a dead-end. That he had been leading her into a dead-end the entire time, and Eve, most likely because of the drink, was making every effort to engage him. All the while, he wasn't giving her much to work with. And just as in the greenhouse, and as he had grown accustomed to, Eve was, in her odd way of doing things, almost begging him not to end their conversation early. He could deduce that much. Except, to Remus, it felt like a task he had not signed up for. "What about you?"
"Yeah, I'm glad to be leaving here, even if it's for a month."
Remus nodded again, but Eve's reminder that their break was short of a month-long hit him right in the face. Whatever he was trying to get away from was now hurdling back at him.
A month.
A whole month.
A whole month away from Hogwarts.
A whole month with no tutoring sessions with Eve.
She wouldn't be there. It would be a whole month before he saw Eve again. Before he spoke to her again.
He leaned back, eyes dropping down to the ground. Wait. Wasn't that what he wanted? Didn't he want to get away from her, to put some space between them? And yet, it still was as if he had been slapped.
Remus inhaled sharply, lifting his back off the wall as he stared out the window. His mouth was open, but the words did not come out. They would not come out because he knew they could cause more bad than good if they did. And this wasn't some sort of confusion. He knew precisely well what he felt. This particular feeling he had felt before.
He would miss Eve.
Why the fuck would he miss Eve?
"Remus?"
"What?"
"Did you want to go back to the party?" The witch asked, watching him, eyeing his suddenly unsettled position. He stared down at her and was, once again, without words.
"Um," Remus forced out, blinking. "We should, shouldn't we? They'll be looking for us."
"Oh, I doubt Alex looks for anyone," Eve laughed. Remus managed a smile, but it was erased as a hand ran over his mouth and chin. He let out a hefty sight.
"Lily," he responded without much context. "She'll be looking for me."
"Lily Evans?"
"The very one," Remus confirmed. Eve nodded. "She asked me to come with her to this thing. I wouldn't have... Slughorn would have never invited me."
Oh, she thought.
It made so much sense now why he had defended her as he did in front of Eve.
She smiled politely, but now it was her turn to start questioning things she had no business questioning. There was no reason to think that the two were anything more than friends, except Eve was not exempt from the world's fixation on pushing two people together without rhyme or reason. To her, the way Remus had phrased it made it seem more than obvious that he and Lily Evans were, indeed, a pair. It shouldn't have come as a shock to her, and yet it did. But her thoughts were stained with a lifetime of indoctrination, and her behavior was implanted with years of proper decorum. So, she made no show of it. Eve remained still and blank.
"Very well," Eve stated, her lips still pressed in a thin smile. "You shouldn't keep her waiting, then."
"No," Remus agreed. "She'll be wondering where I am." He also knew the longer they remained together, the higher Lily's chance of venturing into the hall. And he did not want Lily to find him with Eve. As a matter of fact, since the library run-in, he had ensured never to bring up Eve again.
Eve stood, and Remus followed. Both of them waited for a second. One looking at the other as if there was more to be said. Of course, there was. He could, if he allowed himself, go on for hours on end with things to say. But he had neither the courage nor the will to do so. Even without the full moon being close, Remus was exhausted.
"I'll smoke another cigarette," he told her, tilting his head in the direction of the party. "You should go in."
She knew that was his way of saying he did not want them to see the two together. It surprised her— what of it? What if they did? She wanted to ask him what bother he had with people seeing the two of them together, but Eve knew better than to push the envelope. For whatever reason or other, Remus did not want to be seen with her. Duly noted.
"Very well," was all she said, making her way back to the party.
Remus leaned against the wall with numb limbs and an emptiness in his eyes. Eventually, his entire focus grew clouded and filmy from staring at the floor for too long.
And it was a long while before he came to.
"Wait, Eve?" Remus said without thinking, lifting his head to locate where she had last been. But Eve had disappeared. She was no longer there. Remus stood straight and ran a hand through his hair. It was probably for the best, for he didn't even know what it was he wanted to tell her. Everything was a blur. Nothing made sense anymore. Maybe he was drunk, too, or maybe he was burnt out. The last three months at Hogwarts had been a whirlwind. It was about time for a vacation. He took his daze as his cue to leave, not even bothering to return to the party, and found solace in the fact that he would soon be far away from any and all obstruction.
The moment Eve rejoined Alex, the wizard grabbed her by her forearm and pulled her along into the shadows.
"Eve," he whispered into her ear. "Do you want to get out of here?"
"Go back to the dormitories?" Eve quizzed, the two of them almost nose-to-nose. Alex shook his head.
"No, fuck that," he swallowed, "let's go to the boathouse. Drink whatever's left, listen to some music, dance. What do you say? We leave these old bastards behind and make some use out of the night, huh?"
"Sure," Eve answered with a stifled laugh. And with that, she followed Alex's lead throughout the secret tunnels of Hogwarts until they were consumed in a world of entirely unlike their own.
This chapter is very much a study of the parallels between Remus and Lily's friendship and Eve's and Alex's friendship. I find these two dynamics interesting, as well as the budding one between Moira and Regulus. I enjoy writing them out and then comparing them late. I promise you, though, all of these roads lead to Rome.
Of course, we also have Eve x Remus who are the focal points, and I promise you the next two chapters will be pivotal in terms of their dynamic. It will take me a bit more time to write these chapters as I am also writing my masters thesis at the moment, but I will try to keep them as timely as possible.
Much love, M.