7am-ish

Grace walked into the Great Hall, her attention torn between the actual act of navigating around people and items while walking and also concentrating on the piece of parchment that was carrying in one of her hands. Her other arm had a couple of books tucked under them and pressed against her hip, again mindful not to bump into anything so as to keep them perfectly balanced there.

After side stepping a younger housemate who looked in a hurry to head out of the hall on some task, Grace headed over to where she usually sat at the Gryffindor table. As it was still early, there weren't many of her fellow seventh years there yet. Grace would expect the likes of George down sometime later (or maybe even not at all) as they liked to secure the most shut eye possible before getting the day started.

Sliding onto the bench, she relinquished her books to a place next to her and also set her paper down on the table. Finding a pencil among the things she brought (stuffed between the pages of her heaviest book), she dropped that to the table and awkwardly reached out to grab a glass of orange juice and some fruit. Grace would eat more as the breakfast hour went on (as her athlete's metabolism rarely had her concerned about putting on too much weight), but this was a decent start.

As she waited for others to join her, Grace focused on finishing the letter that she was writing to her brother, Cadan. Normally, she would spend more time on it so that it didn't look sloppy. Plus, she would use her quill and ink. But today she was in a hurry and if the Owl Post came during breakfast, she wanted to send the letter then as opposed to visiting the Owlery later.

Scribbling some last sentences, Grace folded the letter up and sealed it. Setting it aside, she turned her attention to eating her fruit and anxiously waited for the flood of owls to come rushing in or her straggling housemates, whichever came first.

It must have been a brisk and snowy day in Ecuador because, despite the odds, it seemed as though Bethan Ellis was going to beat the swarm of owls to the breakfast table. Breakfast, she had been taught, was the most important meal of the day. Normally she just took people’s word for it and rolled over in bed instead, leaving the toast and jam to someone with a little more internal motivation and a little less fondness for flannel sheets. She could have easily slept for another week if she hadn’t kicked her blankets off sometime before the sun ascended. She’d woken up shivering, and finding her crumpled blankets on the ground required her to – gasp – open her eyes and search for them. By the time she’d bothered, the sun was streaming in her face and the pillow was already cold and she found herself being serenaded by a group of birds that she wished would go crash into the window of a feather duster factory. Next time the damn things were sleeping she was going to go sing them a little ditty and see how they liked it.

She’d somehow managed to find, not only her blankets, but her clothes. On some days, Beth thought it might actually be convenient to have some sort of nice little system so she could actually find what she was looking for in the dorms… but then again, on some days she thought it would be beneficial to chase first years into the forbidden forest just for kicks, so her ideas weren’t always destined to be published in academic journals. She snorted grumpily as stumbled into the washroom to get dressed, pausing for just a second to glare at herself in the mirror. She yanked on her robes, taking her sweet time and walking into the toilet paper holder on two separate occasions, which may have been a new record. Luckily for Bethan, ‘presentable’ was a subjective state of being, so once she was fully clothed, her hair was in some semblance of a messed up ponytail, and her eyes were staying open for at least a minute at a time consistently, she slogged down from Gryffindor tower toward the great hall.

She took her sweet time. The stairs were a challenge to navigate with her limited, early morning faculties, but by the time she’d managed the third set or so, she was almost, practically, though not quite, awake. By the time she’d shuffled her way to the great hall itself, she was still cranky, but she was Beth-on-a-normal-day cranky rather than Beth-at-7 AM cranky. Unlike her housemate, she had brought no books, no writing implements, and no letters. She had, however, shoved her wand into her hair somewhere, just in case she needed it. It was far too early for actual thinking, and thinking about breakfast would be enough of a workout. After bumping head-on into a scrawny looking Hufflepuff and then standing there staring at the kid for a moment and studying him like he was an interesting piece of modern art, Beth plopped down at the Gryffindor table across from Grace.

In greeting, she crossed her arms on the table and buried her face in them, muttering a rather muffled “Why are you even awake? I think I’m going to die.”  She peeked out at her just barely from her arms, looking devastated. It wasn’t that Beth wasn’t a morning person – Morning just wasn’t a Beth, um, person.

Grace had left her best friend peacefully asleep on her very messy side of the dorm. She had known better than to wake Bethan up; If the girl didn't rise by her own fruition, there would be hell to pay. Grace did enough nagging in their seven years at school to know the consequences well. When Bethan was good and ready, she would find her way down to the Great Hall....or to whatever class she might have at some point in the morning or afternoon. There were some things she readily accepted Grace's help with. And others she begrudgingly did so after a while. But there were just some things that Grace had learned not to bother sharing her input on altogether. Her sleep habits  (and cleaning her side of the dorm) was included among them.

Thus, Beth's arrival to the Hall in what would seem like record time was a surprise to the red-headed prefect, causing a slow, knowing. smile to curl on her lips. She looked over at Beth, taking in her overall appearance and assessing her friend's mood, with obvious amusement at she ate her fruit. All the while, in the back of her mind, Grace was also already thinking about what food to grab next.

When Beth proceeded to cradle her head in her arms and mumbled something, it took Grace a moment to translate and then she chuckled, depositing her fruit cup on the table and lightly tapping the table top where her letter sat. "I just needed to make sure I was here when the owls arrived with the post. There might be an important letter from Cadan coming, but I also have this one to send out." Grace didn't elaborate on what exactly the importance of the correspondence was and instead turned to her friend's comment that she was going to die. Grace wryly jabbed, "Mmmhmm....and what will be the official cause of death, exactly? Being woken prematurely?"

“A letter?” Beth asked, her mysteriously disembodied eyes blinking up at Grace in a way that suggested that she did not comprehend the meaning of ‘a letter,’ or for some reason could not imagine what ‘a letter’ had to do with being awake. “You can remember how to read this early? I can’t even remember all of the letters in my name unless I’ve had eight full hours, and sometimes not even then,” she rambled into her sleeve, yawning for a few small seconds. She lifted her chin and placed it on top of her arms so at least some of her words could be understood, shutting her eyes as she spoke. “I just forget if my name’s with a B or a D, and then I remember, because the uppercase ones don’t look quite so similar. It’s… it’s the little ones that always gave me the trouble.” She was rambling and being completely irrelevant, but nobody would have expected more from her so early in the morning, least of all a girl who knew her as well as Grace did.  Beth rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand and then blinked them back into focus, looking at the letter that her friend was indicating for the first time properly.

“The official cause of death,” she said simply, “is a flock of evil birds that thought it was time to practice singing the Hallelujah Chorus at the arse crack of dawn - and outside my window, naturally,” she explained with a bitter curl of her lip, her nose wrinkling with sincere distaste for the winged fiends. “I wish they would’ve just pecked me to death. I don’t want to die of pretty music. I want to die bloody and struggling and chewing down on a rag for the pain!” she said enthusiastically, slapping the table in front of her as she sat up suddenly, the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corner of her lips. “I think I’ll live,” she said after a moment, stretching her arms over her head and working her shoulders, “This time, anyway. Next time the birds are going to get it, though.” Her nostrils flared as she snorted some air and then looked down the table, trying to decide if anything there looked relatively edible.

“Think I’ll get any mail?” she asked as she lifted up and apple to examine it and then put it right back down where she found it, unimpressed. “This is exciting! I don’t think I’ve been up in time for morning post since… oh, what? Fourth year or something? That’s ridiculous,” she said with a snicker, grabbing a fork and enthusiastically spearing about three pieces of toast clear through. She could always eat toast and jam – it was the old standby. She lifted her toast up and used the thumb and pointer finger of her opposite hand to try and peel it from the fork without damaging it too badly – a skill that may have been a bit beyond her at 7 AM. She struggled with it, ripping a piece nearly in half and then dangling it in front of her face and staring at it like she didn’t quite understand. She allowed it to drop to the dish in front of her and tried performing her delicate surgery again on the second one. “My Nana was making me a jumper and my mum was going to send it on. I saw her this summer and told her all about how I didn’t want to go back to this old castle because it was all old and drafty. It was complete rubbish, of course – I mean, I was lying through my teeth – but I just really wanted a new jumper, and I didn’t want to wait until Christmas.” She grinned, knowing full well that her plan was genius. All of her plans were genius. Heck, she was a genius… even if she wasn’t on top of her A-game at seven in the morning, as she ripped another slice of toast clear in half.

"Yeah, a letter," Grace echoed, instinctively reaching out to run her fingertips over the paper of the letter to be sent. Normally, Grace was rather secretive about her correspondence with her brother, Cadan. For one, the topic of their letters of late had centered around the health of Grace's mother and she rarely spoke about that with anyone. She was pretty sure that Beth and George were the extent of who knew among her friends and there were maybe a few professors as well.

So even though Grace lightly laughed at Beth's comments about how early it was, there was no mistaking an undertone of seriousness coming from her. Cadan's constant updates were something that wore heavily on Grace's mind, wondering if the next letter would be the one to drop bad news. Grace wasn't a prophet by any means, but she had heard her mother speak for years about a woman's intuition. That seemed to be at work now.

Maybe my mum was a witch in another life and that's where I get this, Grace mused. That silent joking was quickly ebbed away as she thought about her ultimate goal: to stave off a relapse until she had the Essiac done.  If she could just hang on until this witch is ready....

Trying not to dwell on those thoughts anymore, Grace turned her attention back to her best friend. She couldn't help but smile at Beth's little eccentricities. They were things that made Grace love her to death and then they were also the things that drove her crazy. Beth just wouldn't be Beth without them.

Grace snickered at Beth's damning  of the slew of songbirds. She quipped, "You can blame me for that. Seeing as no other alarm clock seems to work for you, I decided to try something new. I bewitched them to do that...." Flashing her friend a grin that said she was just kidding. As brilliant and tempting as that idea was, Grace could not claim to have thought of doing it earlier than she had just said it. When Beth vehemently declared her preferred manner of death, Grace dryly responded, "You forget that you might never die with me around." Grace gave a mock salute in Beth's direction. "Grace Eddy, Beth's personal healer at your service. So I hope you're prepared to live for ever...."

Returning to the topic of mail, Grace nibbled on a piece of fruit and thoughtfully responded, "I dunno. Did you send any out? Usually you need to write letters to get them..." Although that's not always the case, Grace immediately reminded herself. She regularly sent notes along with Cadan to give to her parents, but neither were very keen on using the Owl Post. Even though everyone in the Eddy family was considered a writer in some way, her parents usually sent their news or regards through Cadan. He seemed to enjoy the run-ins with the ornery owl that delivered the mail.

Grace watched Beth's little eating ritual and listened to the anecdote about the jumper.  "Hopefully your Nana will take pity on you for being in this big, old, cold castle and send that to you. New clothes for the new weather is not a bad idea, actually." Grace didn't need to say anything about all of her own clothes being practical in nature first and fashion statements last. That was pretty common knowledge for the tomboy. "Maybe on the next Hogsmeade visit, I'll pick up a new hat and scarf..."

It was a good thing that Grace didn’t think it was a good idea to bring up her mother and her illness at the breakfast table. Beth wasn’t any good at dealing with the sad stuff - she would have been gaping wordlessly should the topic have come up this early, with her brain lagging as it was. Even on a normal day she would have just been staring into space with an angry wistfulness about her eyes, dropping the f-word more than necessary and making nonsensical threats as she flailed about uselessly. There was nothing that Bethan hated more than a big, bad bully, and stupid, awful cancer certainly fell into that category. There were no fair fights when it came to the disease – there was no one to kick in the face, or hex into next Tuesday. Things were so much easier when there was someone to blame, and she just couldn’t find anyone. It made Beth frustrated and flustered and angry… and it wasn’t even her own mum.

It was better, this time, that Beth missed Grace’s undertone, because, as it happened, she was holding a fork. A sharp, pointy fork.

She was about ready to take up that fork and use it for some good, old-fashioned stabbing when her friend cracked the joke about the birds. Oh, being woken up prematurely was no laughing matter! Bethan was a growing girl and needed her rest! Sure, she’d been using that excuse since she was about eight years old, but it had some merit – even though she’d stopped growing and there didn’t seem to be much hope that the petite girl would start up again anytime soon. Luckily, though she was being mocked and conveniently discussing death, Beth was too intent on freeing her toast from the evil clutches of the fork’s tines to physically mar anyone with them. 

“Imagine living forever?” she asked with a grin, though her eyes never left the site of her delicate task. There was one dumb piece of toast left to free and she was going to do this one right or bust! “I’d rather die in a cool way and be remembered. That’s my plan, anyway – I’ll go out in a blaze of glory. I want my last words to just be screaming. No actual meaning - you know, just all-out deafening screaming. I want people nearby to hear me and say ‘wow, that girl must be in pain. I’m just so glad it’s her and not me’ – and that is when I’ll know my life was worth living.” Clearly she had put some thought into this – more than a little, actually. While she was spouting complete nonsense (when was she ever doing anything else?), she did hold tightly to the feeling that she had some kind of crazy destiny in store for herself. She just didn’t feel like the type of person who could ever be old. There was no future for her knitting jumpers for her grandchildren, like her nana – just the addicting prospect of that blaze of glory.

With a triumphant “HA!” she managed to shimmy the remaining slice of toast off of her fork-spear and set it down in front of her in one piece. Abandoning the fork, she started on the jam, adding quite a bit of the sticky stuff to her toast. She was very generous with it (and this frequent sort of generosity showed in her hips) but if she was only going to make it to a full sit-down breakfast a few times a year then, damnit, she was going to enjoy it!

“My mum sends me letters all of the time, even when I forget to write back to the old ones,” she told her. “She’s an excellent pen pal. It isn’t everyday you find one so determined. She must like me or something.” She made a goofy face, shoving one of the smaller, ripped portions of toast into her mouth whole. Her mother really was a saint, considering most of the mail she got was probably from the school, informing her of her daughter’s ridiculous and frequently embarrassing behavior and begging her to make it stop.

“Why do you need new ones for?” she asked when the topic of shopping for a hat and scarf was broached. “What’s wrong with the old ones? You should just keep wearing the old ones, definitely,” she spoke, though she’d taken another bite of toast and her mouth was slightly full. Beth wasn’t especially attached to any of Grace’s old things, but she certainly didn’t want to be forced to accompany her while she shopped. If she didn’t need new things, then she didn’t need to go shopping – easy as that. And if Grace didn’t need to go shopping, Beth didn’t need to stand in the corner rolling around on her heels and touching things she shouldn’t be touching and being accused of shoplifting. Just because she liked to stand in the corner looking suspicious did not mean that she was a thief, though nine out of ten shopkeepers tended to disagree with that sentiment.

A moment later, a flutter of movement caught Beth’s eye that had her sure of one thing – mail was on its way. “Owls in 3, 2, 1..” she counted, her eyes trained on the pow-wow of a million owls that entered the room all at once, carrying parcels of varying sizes. She put her arms down defensively, guarding her well-earned toast from any hungry buggering types who might have wanted some for themselves, but not before taking another healthy bite, just in case. “I tell you, I had better get something or I’m going to be quite upset, after coming all the way down here at this ungodly hour, and my toast won’t even cooperate…” she rambled as a familiar owl came and landed on her head. “Karma,” she mumbled with a grin and another bite of toast in her mouth as her eyes peeked up at the cozy bird.

Grace watched her friend with some interest, as it looked like Beth could manage to sufficiently maim anything with only a fork as her weapon. Grace was infinitely glad that they were friends and not enemies, as to be up against the full force of Beth's energies was surely something formidable indeed.

Luckily, the fierce look in Beth's eyes subsided just a bit in their joking. The thought of living forever certainly was an enticing one and Grace quipped, "I'll have to work on a potion that makes that happen. Eddy's Evermore Potion....has a nice ring to it, don'tcha think?" She flashed her friend a grin of her own and listened as Beth explained her preferred method of death. Propping her chin up in  the palm of her hand, Grace dryly added, "We'll have to make sure that we send a pamphlet out to all of your enemies so that they know the right proper way for you to meet your demise. It will have to be a fully choreographed thing....right down to the last breath." Grace wagged her eyebrows playfully, but even among all the joking, she had to admit that her friend's vision was pretty heroic sounding. Nothing ordinary about it. And she imagined quite fitting for a Gryffindor.

"I've decided that mums are great at so many things it's hard to keep track," Grace declared.  "They must be part superhero or something. Or it's in the mum job description.....'Be prepared to be good at everything'....stuff like that."

Discussion of mothers quickly subsided and talk turned to shopping. When Beth asked her what was wrong with her old hat and scarf, Grace just shrugged. She wasn't much of a shopper, and when she was, usually she bought clothing that was practical in nature. She hardly ever took a long time to get what she "needed". But that wasn't to say she was without addictions. And collecting hats was prime among them. Thus, she told Beth, "There's  nothing really wrong with the old ones. I just....kinda want a new one. That is...if there's one that I like." Another shrug later, she then added, "And if not, I can always spend my money on sweets for the dorm."

Food and sweets in general soon became a secondary thought as soon as the Owl Post came. Looking up, it didn't take long for Grace to spot Tymerek, the owl that she did not own but she essentially had claimed him early in her first year so that he now pretty much exclusively delivered her mail to Cadan and Cadan's mail to her. She wasn't in a rush to get to it and instead tended to the owl, who was leaning over to gently nibble on her fingers, indicating that he wanted a treat for his hard work.

Giggling, Grace looked over at Beth and asked, "So? Did you get anything?"

“Did I get anything?” Beth asked rather incredulously, her eyeballs rolling upwards to throw another look at the creature, which was growing more and more comfortable on her hair. “I got a bird on my head. That’s what I got, like,” she smirked with a short, dry laugh, giving her head a good shake in an attempt to get it to shoo. Her mother’s owl merely took this as a cue to dig its talons further into her already rather pathetic and woebegone hair, and at Beth’s second attempt to swat the bird away, she discovered herself to be good and tangled. Bethan stood rather determinedly, giving the bench a good shove backward as she worked on freeing the thing, a stream of half-hearted cusses being mumbled under her breath as her not-so-adept fingers worked at her poor tresses. “Oh, get off,” she grumbled once it was free, taking the initiative to deposit the owl on the edge of the table, where it perched and promptly began helping itself to her carefully guarded toast.

“Yeah, that’s right. Go on, help yourself,” she snapped, sitting down hard on the bench, “Didn’t want it, anyway.” A loose strand of hair was falling into her face, and she gave it a good, exasperated blow. It landed, rather unceremoniously, right where it began. As if on cue, Hyacinth, her mother’s owl, turned its head completely to face her, presenting Beth with a glare that could rival her own. “What are you looking at, you ugly thing? Would’ve made more if I knew I was expecting company, dumb bird.” She sighed, and was about to reach for another piece of toast when the realization that she’d been attacked by her mother’s owl – and the implications of such an attack – became obvious. “Wait, did I get anything?” she asked, looking around for some semblance of a package or envelope.  She bent over and retrieved a fallen envelope from under the bench and examined it carefully.

“And of course it’s from Mum,” she said with a smile, though there was no doubt who it was from, considering she’d just been attacked by her mother’s owl. Beth opened the envelope and unfolded the parchment, perching her elbows on the table in front of her. Her lips moved as she read silently, a wide smile spreading over her face halfway through. She kept reading until the end, though, taking her time decoding it. “She says hello,” Beth shared, gently placing the letter back down on the table. She always took a little more care with things that were actually important to her. Unfortunately, not many things fell into that category – but things from home and having to do with her family were a definite exception.

“You’ll never, ever guess what, though!” she said excitedly, shooing Hyacinth away from her letter. “I have some thrilling, thrilling news! Well, I think it’s pretty thrilling, anyway. I mean, nobody’s discovered they’re royalty or struck oil or anything, but as far as news goes, this is pretty great.” It seemed to have slipped Beth’s mind that she didn’t actually reveal her news, however, because she took a second to actually tend to her hair, pushing the loosened pieces back into some semblance of chaotic order.   

“For the second time in history…” she started, attempting to build the anticipation, pausing for dramatic effect, “I am going to be an aunt! Owen got someone knocked up again! Who knew he had it in him? I’m so proud,” she gushed sarcastically. She was being a bit vague – because the someone who her brother got knocked up was his wife, and it had been a planned pregnancy. Though Beth was not quite a baby person, she certainly looked forward to the day when she got to be ‘the cool aunt’. She’d never had one of those herself, and it always seemed like she was missing out.

“What’d you get?” she asked, leaning forward to take a look at what the significantly tamer owl had brought Grace. “Good news comes in pairs, right? Or is that bad news? Or death? No, death’s triads, I think.” She wrinkled her nose and picked up her own letter again. “See, this is why I don’t take Arithmancy,” she grumbled, folding up her letter and putting it back into the envelope. “Let’s say it’s pairs, just for fun. Besides, even bad news is good news for somebody.”

Despite her attempts at decorum, Grace burst out laughing as she watched the struggle between friend and owl. It really was rather comical and part of her wondered how Beth always managed to get herself tangled up in situations like that (among others). Seemed to be a reoccuring theme with the girl but Grace was always willing to help her out...unless she managed to get out of it by herself before she could. In this case though, there didn't appear to be much Grace could do to help so she simply watched as Beth wrestled the owl off of her head and stuck it on the table.

Beth's sour mood immediately seemed to brighten with the letter from her mother. Family--and especially mothers--seemed to have that kind of power over most people. Soothing, with the ability to assure a person that all was right in the world. As Beth read, Grace pushed herself up from her seated position and perused some of the other food available to determine what else she wanted to eat. She grabbed some more fruit for Hyacinth and Tymerek to nibble on and then for herself, she found some scrambled eggs and loaded up her plate. She had just sat back down when Beth relayed her mum's greeting and smiled in acknowledgement. In many ways, Grace felt as though she knew Beth's family as well as her own and thus the news from the letter was met with equal anticipation as the one from Cadan, which still sat unopened nearby.

It was easier for Grace to focus on Beth's news than the potential implications of her own, which was why she eagerly asked, "What's the skinny?" She listened as Beth rambled on, waiting for the actual news, and when Beth finally revealed that she was going to be an aunt again, Grace smiled. "Awww....that's so nice!" The word nice seemed to be such a bland word for that news. So she added, "You're lucky to be an aunt at all. Cadan seems to be far away from settling down, so I may never become one."

Grace's attention was diverted when Beth asked about her own letter. Instinctively, Grace's slender fingers found their way to the parchment envalope and traced its edges apprehensively. This was the part she hated. Every letter from Cadan came with the potential for good news and the potential for bad news. Part of Grace's rationalization for prolonging the reading of it meant that she could stave off the likelihood that the latter was a reality.

Grace absently addressed Beth's questioning about how good news and bad news came as she slowly began to open her letter. "Well, I think it depends on who you ask. Some people say bad news comes in threes and some say twos. And some think that three is for bad and two is for good. And still some think that any news--good or bad--of note comes in threes. I tend to go with the last part." Grace had taken Arithmancy until she decided on becoming a healer and reasoned that she didn't need it anymore. Even the overachiever in her had conceded that taking it threw NEWT level would have been more stress than necessary in her final year. But she still retained a simple appreciation of the knowledge she had gained from the course. Hence her ability to murmur without thinking, "Three is thought to be an indication of completeness, which might make any of the sentiments more likely than two. So many 'things' of note are so because they are part of a threesome...."

Surely Grace could have rambled on and on about the subject, but instead she opened the paper inside the envalope and her eyes settled on Cadan's familiar writing. Relief washed over her face after the first skimming and she quickly raised her eyes to Beth's as if to share with her some unspoken news. With a smirk, she added, "And I lied. Looks like I may become an aunt--kind of--afterall. My brother is getting a puppy."

“You know what?” Beth asked absently as she provoked her mother’s demon owl, prodding it with her finger as the bird attempted to eat its fruit in peace, “I think it might be about time your brother met my sister. She’s pretty nice. I mean, most people like her, I think. She wouldn’t even mind the muggle thing.” She pulled her finger back with an offended look as the owl nipped her before reaching over and grabbing a piece of the bird’s fruit for herself, popping it into her mouth as she continued speaking. “I actually think she’d like being married to a person. It has got to be more rewarding than being married to her work, if you know what I mean,” she laughed, winking in an over-exaggerated way. She laughed at herself and then sighed. “We’d be related then, you know. Almost sisters! Wow. Wow,” Beth remarked with a hefty sigh, a slow grin spreading its way across her lips. “Got a quill?” she asked, yanking the letter from her mother from its envelope and flipping the parchment over. “I need to draft a note to Brynn and make sure she hasn’t got a dumb boyfriend yet.”

Beth more or less ignored all of Grace’s clarification on the issue of arthimancy. She hadn’t cared about arithmancy in third year when they were choosing electives, and she didn’t care now – even if she was the one who’d brought it up. She was too busy drafting the letter to her sister in her mind. Brynn was too focused on her job and what her job meant to get out and find herself a date, even if she was pretty and nice and dedicated. Even in the midst of drifting off in thought Beth managed to drift off in thought again, trying to imagine what the kids would look like if Cadan and Brynn did manage to get hitched. Beautiful, she bet.

In fact, she didn’t re-emerge from her thoughts until she heard the word ‘puppy.’ “A puppy?” she asked, her eyebrows darting downward, creating a rather devastated looking expression. “No fair! I want a puppy! I’ve wanted a puppy forever!” she whined furiously, taking Cadan’s good news as a personal attack. “I’ll get a dog, too. Once I’m on my own and my parents can’t say no, that’s the first thing I’m going to do,” she added firmly. “And I won’t even kill it like they think.” Truthfully, Bethan had been asking her parents for a dog since she was little, but even her constant whining wasn’t enough to convince them. Though she grew up with siblings, they were both significantly older and spent most of the year away at school, leaving Beth and her boundless energy at home alone. Her mum stayed home with her, of course, but a mother isn’t quite the same as a puppy. She never quite got over the idea that she’d have a dog to keep up with her one day. In hindsight, it probably would’ve taught her a bit of responsibility, had she gotten one young. Then again, she probably would have shirked those responsibilities off and brushed them off on her parents. 

Suddenly her face lit up again, as though she’d just thought of something brilliant. “You know we’re graduating this year?” she asked, seeming to have just remembered that little fact herself. She kept forgetting and then remembering again, and it made her grin every time. This time it was the promise of her post-graduation puppy that had reminded her. She sighed contentedly at the thought. “You don’t mind if we get a dog after graduation, right?” she asked Grace, her eyes wide.

“I mean, that’s assuming we live together after we graduate. We are living together, aren’t we?” Beth asked, suddenly concerned that she was doing that assuming thing again – and even more concerned that there was a chance that the answer wasn’t the one she wanted to hear. She hadn’t lived without Grace since she was eleven years old, and she wasn’t sure she’d know how to – not in the big bad world after graduation, anyway. “I know it’s a long time away, but I always just sort of figured we would,” she managed with what she hoped was an endearing grin.

"What?" Grace asked laconically, busying herself with eating. She had no inclination that Beth was going to suggest that they play matchmaker to their respective single siblings. In fact, she had just started to swallow some eggs when the thought processed, causing her to cough suddenly. She used her free hand to lightly tap her chestbone, coaxing the bits of egg back up and out of the way of a choking hazard. After carefully managing to swallow it, she looked at her friend quite seriously, listening to Beth ramble on about it.

In truth, it wasn't a bad idea, really. Beth brought up a number of solid points about their potential compatibility. The bit about the union making them related was pure bonus as far as Grace was concerned. But Grace's hesitance came from not wanting to meddle in her brother's love live, lest it come back to haunt her at some other point in life.

What do I know about love and relationships? she quietly asked herself. She was no expert and didn't want to ruin things. And Merlin forbid something went wrong between an encounter with their siblings and it became a cause for friction in her friendship with Beth. But expressing any of this to her friend was not something that would not be easy. For the time being, Grace decided to keep her reservations to herself.

She decided to keep on the topic of the puppy. "Yes, a cute, adorable little puppy. Even I'm jealous," Grace lamented, her brown eyes darting to the written description that was in Cadan's note. He said that he would send pictures in the next one once the little pup was settled. She was just thinking of how nice it would be to be able to have a pet of her own some day when Beth mentioned graduation.

That realization was both exciting and daunting at the same time. Moving on with a new stage of their lives. Becoming adults and being a productive contributor to society.

Grace was lulled out of further thoughts of the future by Beth's question about them getting a dog. Then, she listened to her friend prattle on further and tried to  maintain a straight face, as if she really were upset by Beth's assumptions. Then when her friend finally stopped for some air, Grace demanded, "We? What's with all this we stuff?" With a measure of light sarcasm, she added, "I mean, how could you possibly think we could continue living together the way that we do once we graduate? I mean, you're a disorganized slob and I'm a meticulous neat freak. Why would we want to torture ourselves?"

Grace tried to keep her feigned indignation up, but finally she cracked a smile and reached out to give her friend's shoulder a light shove. "Of course we'll live together after graduation. How could I possibly get used to living with anyone else?" She waved the notion off. Then she shrugged and her face softened at "awww" factor in the whole discussion. Her friendship with Beth had evolved into being more like sisters. Hooking up their siblings would be inconsequential. With a grin, she finally said, "Besides, breaking in a new roommate would take too much time."

Frankly, Beth would probably forget about her matchmaking scheme the second she left the table and went about her day. She wasn’t known for her long term planning skills except in very extreme cases, and though the idea of being actually related to her best friend was as thrilling as thoughts come, she already felt related to her. Making it officially was just a technicality, and Beth never really bothered with those. Besides, her sister was far too serious to entertain any of Beth’s little whims about who she thought she should date – let alone who she should marry! Brynn was typically too busy cavorting with werewolves to even write back to a letter, let alone entertain the whimsical, poorly thought out contents of one sent to her by her strange baby sister. When a quill never materialized Beth seemed to get swept up in puppy talk for a time, the unwritten draft to her sister remaining unwritten, possibly forever.

The deadpan glare that Beth was throwing at Grace should have been enough to clue her in to the fact that she didn’t quite buy her rubbish about their arrangement not working out. Living with a neat freak like Grace was not torture for Beth – it was her only remaining lifeline when it came to pretending to be a functional adult. Truth be told, Beth had been a legal adult in the wizarding world for almost an entire year, but she hadn’t quite begun acting like one yet. Grace seemed like the type of person who, unlike Beth, would be good at being a grownup. She needed her there to hold her hand and ease her into real life. If not, Beth would just have to go back to finding her role models in comic books… and without Grace around to lend her money to buy said comic books, she’d probably end up in a cardboard box in Hogsmeade humming to herself. Or living at home, which would be worse. The self conscious part of Beth, though she was putting on her brave, skeptical front, wasn’t entirely sure that Grace wasn’t kidding. Her friend’s playful shove couldn’t have come soon enough. She breathed a sigh of relief as she beamed.

“Yeah, alright, alright, but you didn’t ever say if we could get a puppy or not,” Beth complained, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hands, still clearly exhausted. “I’d take such good care of it! You’d be so proud of me, Grace!” she claimed enthusiastically, her eyes growing large and puppy-dog like themselves. Her parents had endured these claims for ages when Beth was younger, and she clearly hadn’t lost her touch. She had plenty of reasons why she needed a puppy to recycle, despite the fact that they hadn’t worked the first time. “Look at how good I am with animals!” she exclaimed quite suddenly, grabbing Hyacinth away from her snack and planting a big kiss on the top of the bird’s head – which was clearly taken with more confusion on the bird’s part than affection. “I love you, you dumb bird! Now go home so the grownups can talk,” she half-shouted, giving her mother’s owl a toss toward the sky. Clearly sick of being teased by her deranged man handler, the bird took off with no intention of returning. Why such a show was supposed to impress upon Grace that Beth deserved a puppy was unclear, but it was an effective way to clear the table so she could reach over and grab herself a pear.

Beth bit into her pair, chewed it up, and took a swallow, glad to have found a breakfast food that was significantly less high-maintenance than her poor, abducted toast had been. “Am I allowed to go back to sleep after this?” she asked, seeming to remember that she was exhausted now that all of the excitement of post was over with. “My eyes are telling me they’re tired and my body’s sad because it misses my bed,” she muttered, taking another rather aggressive chomp out of her pear. “I wouldn’t be tired if I had a puppy.”

It was hard for Grace not to burst out laughing at her friend's glare but she was used to teasing Beth like this. And she was similarly used to Beth teasing her as well. Seven years of getting to know each other's idiosyncrasies would do that to a person. And for the most part, their friendship was Aiken to the Odd Couple, with plenty of comedy to go with it. All the ways that they were different were all the ways that they were able to compliment each other and that essentially made for an unstoppable team.

Grace was able to keep Beth on task and Beth was able to keep Grace from turning into someone who was so high strung that she forgot to have fun.

"Yes, we can have a puppy," Grace said with a roll of her eyes. "And fish. And a turtle. And whatever other kind of pets we want." Looking over at the two owls munching on food, she said thoughtfully, "Hey, why don't we snag these two guys for pets while we're at it?" Knowing that might not go over so well, Grace commented on Beth's insistence that she would take care of the puppy. "You'd better take care of it," she warned. "I mean, I'll do my share too, but I can't do my share and your share. Especially when you're going to be in training to be an Auror and I'll be in training to be a Healer." Grace's brows went up and she said pointedly, "Neither are going to be easy jobs and we'll have to help each other out."

Noting that an owl (she wasn't sure if it was Tymerek or not) had dropped off a Daily Prophet, Grace snatched it up and started perusing the headlines. When her roommate asked if she could go back to sleep, Grace looked at the clock and mused, "Well, you could go back to sleep because you don't have class until 9:30." Finally looking over at Beth, she asked, "Will you need me to come and get you so we can go together? Or are you capable of setting your alarm?"

“Just a puppy. That’s all,” Beth said declaratively, nodding her head firmly. “What are we going to do with a fish? Stare at it? We don’t like fish,” she added, her words spoken with just as much conviction, puckering her lips together and making a very bored looking fish face. She stuck out her lips while her eyes stared off boredly at nothing, as if to prove her own point. She got bored of the charade quickly, as expected, and instead took to crossing her eyes, practicing while Grace harped on about normal, boring things like pet care and homework and… well, she wasn’t sure what she was actually taking about because she’d tuned her out completely. She didn’t uncross her eyes and pay attention again until she heard the word ‘auror,’ which always managed to catch her attention.

“Oh, come on,” she said exasperatedly, her face scrunched up with skepticism. “We’re both naturals. They’ll take one look at us and decide we don’t need training at all.” That was her hope, anyway – her not-so-secret hope. As excited as she was about becoming an auror, she was equally unexcited about having to go through more school before she was allowed to do anything fabulous or work in the field. She figured it would be more exciting than school was now, because every class would be like Defense Against the Dark Arts… but she’d prefer skipping school completely any day. It was going to be a lot harder to stay motivated with the whole wide world at her disposal.

Just thinking about work was lulling Beth into an unconscious state – that and the early hour, coupled with the fact that she was naturally lazy. She blinked stupidly, grabbing her letter from the table and rising clumsily to her feet. “Wake me up nicely,” she demanded with a pout, trying to put herself in order. “I hate that alarm. Hate it,” she snapped, grumbling as she wandered from the table and back toward the dorms without so much as a ‘goodbye.’