Quinn stood in front of the mirror, fresh-faced and somewhat excited. It was Friday, and that meant one thing - weekend! She was the typical pupil that lived for her Saturday nights and Sunday sessions of laziness, and Quinn couldn't think of anything better than kicking back with the usual suspects. It was early morning, and the fact Quinn had got up on time was a miracle; instead of turning up on-time, however, the Gryffindor party girl chose to hang around in the bathroom adding some finishing touches.

Ruffling her blonde hair a little, she pulled down on the bottom of her eyes, noticing how tired she was becoming. Christmas had taken it out of her - constant celebrating with family and friends had left Quinn a little exhausted, and it was starting to show. Ah well! One had to dance through the good and charge through the bad. It was a Friday, and that could only be a good thing.

Dipping her finger into a small tub of pink glitter, Quinn dotted a rather generous amount on her temples and around her eyes. It was a day for glitter - well, so was every other day, but Quinn felt particularly optimistic about that January the 9th. And her day was about to get ten times better.

Outfit

It was public knowledge that publically shaming Fir was a damn near impossible task. He was just to ridculous awesome to care. So he had absolutely no promblems meeting a friend in the girl's loo. He liked the girl's loo. For one thing it was the other half of his hunting ground. Also, it was by far a better place to work on or touch up makeup. Because after the squealing, eyerolls and yelling about boys in girls loos and blah blah blah, sometimes he was able to get and give good tips and tricks before he was forcibly expelled from the area.

"Quinn!" Fir exclaimed, arms out in a dramatic geasture as he walked in the door. "How are you doing, love?"

Despite some rather damaging things he had heard about Quinn from his pretty kitty, the fabulous fellow seventh year was very much still one of Fir's best mates. He walked up to her and leaned against the wall, watching in amusement as she went about her usual glitter-slathering routine. Fir liked a more structured look to his cosmetics, but hye, Quin could pull of looking like a hott mess. Well, Fir was sure Fir could if he tried (was their anythign he couldn't pull off? Really? Really?), but he choose not to.

"You think you got enough glitter love?" Fir asked, teasingly. He looked closer at the girl's face. Oh, but did she look a little worn around the edges. "Looking a little rough there. Sure you're not loosing your party girl edge?"

It was all teasing, of course. Quinn could no more loose her party girl edge than Fir could grow a beard. Not that either of them would want to.

"Hola chicaaa," Quinn laughed heartily, throwing her arms around the most eccentric best friend she'd ever had. Giving his shoulders a tight bear-hug squeeze, she finally relented, turning to the mirror once more. "I'm fine thanks mate, yourself?" Dotting a few more patches of glitter around her eyes, she poked Fir in the cheek, smudging pink sparkles across his face playfully.
"Glitz!" she simply exclaimed, as if that was reason enough for her to add a little decoration to her best friend's androgynous face.

"More glitter the better," she giggled, finally putting the small tub down and ruffling her hair some more. "I'm always looking rough. Lou tried to coax me into looking slightly more clean-cut and neat, I nearly cried with shame." Quinn was quite aware that she looked like she needed a good bath half the time, and whilst she wasn't lacking in personal hygiene, she lived for the 'post-nightclub' look, when things were starting to become a little dishevelled, a little excessive but fun nonetheless.

"What have you been up to, Fir?" she asked, realising that the two hadn't caught up properly in quite some time. "And more importantly, what are we doing this eve?" It was Friday night, which probably meant that Hogwart's Glitterati would be doing something outrageously stupid. No matter where Quinn was, trouble seemed to follow her. It was time to get into a bit of mischief with Fir; since her explosion with Sophie in Diagon Alley she'd been afraid that he would have taken her opponent's side but apparently not. Fir was better than all that business anyway, and that very fact made Quinn smile. It was nice having him around.

There were worse things to be called then the Spanish word for girl. Porcupine and alien common. As was some wet-blanket's instance on monkey. GAH. It still boggled Fir's mind how some people could not appreciate the awesome that was Fir.

But, thankfully, he was in the presence of one who could and did. With a huge hug and...glitter. Pink glitter. Fir eyes his reflection in the mirror, tilting his head this way and that before responding.

"Eh. It'll do." he declared, turning back to his friend who obviously so strongly embraced the more glitter equals good mantra. Seeing how Fir's own motto was 'if you got it, flaunt it,' he could sympathize. 

"That wicked, devious Lou," Fir said, doing his best disapproving professor voice. He even manged to squeeze in a few 'tsks'.

He shrugged when he got asked about recent times. "The usual. Sexually confusing my house. Scaring the new professors. Chilling out with friends. Had a long chat with Sophie the other day. As for tonight, I'm game for whatever girly girl."

Okay so the name drop was on purpose. It's not like Fir wanted a fight. Fights were ugly and bad for one's complexion. He just wanted all his friends to be friends again. Or at least amicable. Because lately there had been so much drama llama and not one a bit of it was a love triangle with him at the center. What's up with that?

"I know, right!" Quinn laughed, imaging Lou chasing her around the common room with a pair of high heels, a pencil skirt and a tie-neck blouse. "Pure evil." Quinn shuddered, imagining herself looking so preppy conservative. It was all about a battered pair of cowboy boots and ripped tights.

"Sophie?" she continued, flicking her eyes to Fir before returning them back to her own reflection, ruffling her blonde locks and attempting to look a little more awake. "I guess she told you how much of a heinous, slutty, barbaric advocate of mass genocide I am?" she replied with a smirk, the memory of her argument with Sophie appearing back in her mind. It really wasn't worth the hassle - she'd make mistakes, tried to rectify them and it didn't work out. Sometimes things didn't, no matter how much you wanted them to.

And as for Fir, Quinn really didn't mind that he was still friends with Sophie - it didn't have much to do with their friendship.
"Honestly, I usually mail all this fiasco to your department mate." Turning to Fir, she gave him a playful nudge with her elbow - he was an addict for theatrics and dramatics, and Quinn loved it. "And as for tonight, we could go racing, we could go see the girls..." she pondered, leaning back on the sink, kicking her boots against the basin counters. Immediately, her train of thought was derailed with a horrific excitement. Quinn grabbed Fir's wrist with wide-eyes and bloodthirsty fangs.
"We have to go to the Three Broomsticks," she demanded, biting her bottom lip with a toothy grin. "Apparently the new bartender is a Durmstrang boy, and more importantly, he's meant to be gorgeous." Quinn and her Durmstrang boys. Old habits died hard.

"You gotta be careful around those straight-laced types," Fir said, eyes going wide with mock fear as his voice dropped to a cautionary whisper. "They sneak up on you when you least expect it."

Fir rolled his eyes when Quinn asked about what Sophie says. Oh he was not playing the he-said she-said game. Okay kind of lie, he passed on gossip all the time. It pretty much was his hobby. Actually considering the amount o work he did with gossip versus school, might as well call homework the hobby. But no, Fir would rather just shove the pair in a room and lock the door until they made up. Preferably without resorting to a death match. Mud wrestling on the otherhand....Ahem.

"No, she didn't actually," Fir said, leaning in to give the blonde a kiss on the cheek. "That would be a little dramatic even from the girl that uses the word 'fetus' when she's frustrated. I just hate it to see friends all made at each other. It messes with my posse structure."

The last sentence was accompanied with a dramatic eyeroll followed by a too-innocent grin  and a wink.

"Speaking of racing," Fir said, happy to pick up on a change-of-subject. He liked that Quinn could bounce around in a conversation with him. It was one of the many qualities that made Quinn so well-suited for partying with Fir.

"Did you here I'm looking to start a circuit at school?" Fir asked. "I'm looking to start it up soon- just ironing out the details like racers. Maybe we can recruit this bartender hunk to serve drinks? Be damn more attractive than a house elf. Although, honestly, that is something I will have to see with my own eyes."

"I tried to apologise, and she threw it back in my face," Quinn explained, lightly raising her shoulder in nonchalance. She'd been upset - no, infuriated - by her confrontation with Sophie all those weeks ago down Diagon Alley, but now, Quinn was past caring. Nobody could be friends with everybody, and people made mistakes, and sometimes they weren't resolved. Quinn was sick of apologising. Her moment of frustration in the bathroom at the mention of the Flickwick fiasco dissolved immediately though as she felt Fir give her a peck on the cheek. He was endlessly adorable. "Let's just forget about all that: we're still friends at the end of the day."

Quinn was firm in her insistence at leaving Sophie out of conversation, but her wide-eyes and light voice signalled anything but frustration with Fir; of course, he was going to be concerned, but in the long run he'd accept that Quinn wasn't so keen on discussing the ins-and-outs of her run-in with the Flickwick family. John, Sophie, everything. It was all in a past that she'd rather forget.

The blonde listened intently to his discussion of establishing a racing circuit, and she turned to him, mouth wide with excitement.
"That is siiiick," she almost shouted with glee: it was as if all her Christmases had come at once. "So many people would be onboard for that. Me, for starters!" She could picture it now: being one of the few females to leave all of her competitors in the dust. Quinn was just made for this sort of situation.

Fir shrugged when Quinn said Sophie had been difficult. He hadn't been there so he didn't know. He thought Sophie could get pretty dramatic, but then so could Quinn. And of course Fir was the first to admit his leaning toward drama-llama. But if Quinn wanted to just move on with her life, Fir could so be down with that. He  wasn't sure by her expression that she was really over it, but unless she asked him first or things got really bad, he'd

"Consider it forgotten, sweetie," Fir said.

And then it was onto more exciting and happy topics- like Fir's oh-so-genius idea. Fir was feeling like he might just squee with excitement when Quinn said she's so be on board. Oh he could just hug her. So he immediately went for a hug. Because, well, why not? He loved hugs. Hugs, snogs, any and all signs of adoration.

"Oh I am SOOOOO glad you said that," Fir declared. "Because I was going to ask-force you to be my crazy chick racer. We need racers with charisma, character and dashing good looks on the circuit- it'll help increase student bets on all you lovely talented people. I was thinking about giving you all snazzy nicknames. What you think?"

Quinn instinctively placed a heavy arm on Fir's shoulder, squeezing him tight with excitement. He was probably the most affectionate friend she'd ever had, and he never seemed to mind getting glitter on his shoulder from her cheek. That was a big plus. Glad that her best mate was forgetting her conflict with Sophie as they spoke, she still couldn't shake away that feeling; why couldn't people just get on with it? Quinn had kept the entire argument to herself, knowing there were mutual friends like Fir in the mix. She shook her head a little, as if getting rid of those thoughts there and then.

"Oh, Fir, it sounds all exciting brudda," she laughed, clapping her hands together in glee. Quinn could see it now - all of those fast-paced boys on their brooms eating her dust on the circuit. So what if it got broken up by a teacher? There were hundreds if not thousands of places in Hogwarts they could sneak off and keep out of authority's way. "I want to be Golddust, smacking through the race with a bottle of glitter and vodka in each hand!"

It was exactly what Hogwarts needed: its own form of competition outside of Quidditch and house points - both games that Quinn wasn't allowed or didn't wish to get involved in. This would be about bright lights, cheering fans and dirty tactics. Who knows, she could even have had a good shot at winning.

Man did Fir love himself. That was twice today that a girl had thrown her arms around him. Who cared if Quinn and Sophie hugs weren't romantic. There were guys that would kill for that kind of feminine attention and Fir was just sure said males were itching for Fir's tricks or taking notes on his technique. Maybe it could be a chapter in his autobiography/ guide to being awesome.

"Of course it is! I came up with it!" Fir said with a huge grin. "Ooo, Golddust. I like it. Catchy, memorable and it fits you like a glove. Golddust, the glittery gold and scarlet draped Gryffindor racer that leaves all her opponents in the dust."

Well, all her opponents but him. Who was seriously considering labeling himself as Captain Awesome. Which also might be the title of his aforementioned autobiography/ guide to being awesome.

Hmmm, he hadn't thought about vodka. Fir paused, titled his head and considered his fellow seventh year. "You know, if you manage to win whilst hammered, I will be very impressed. But should that option be available to others?"

Hmm, she was thinking his side employment with Snark would save him for the broom racing thing in general, but he wasn't sure that would cover alcohol. Schools could be kind of obnoxious like that.