March 11th - how he wished it had never come! At least this year. It could have been next year just fine, right? Or last year! Not the year he had to study for NEWTs, for Merlin's sake. Academic panic aside, Dion felt like his personal life was in more shambles than ever; SAWs was going to have a very hard time of it, the Flickwick's mother was dead, as were a decent amount of other people. He wanted to deal with everything, but that stack of homework seemed to loom higher everyday, no matter how much he chipped at it.

He didn't have class tomorrow, though, so Friday was 'Dion time'. He'd get some actual sleep, which he'd been lacking on, and socialize. And then wake up tomorrow and work.

Laying on his bed, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying in vain to alleviate the dark circles under them. There was someone in particular he'd been wanting to talk to - Ruby. He'd been avoiding her since the news had gone 'round the school...after all, what could he possibly say?

He'd felt bad about it, of course; everyone who was a friend of 'wicks had. But it was odd for him - he felt worse for Ruby than he did for Sophie, despite his feelings for the latter of the girls. Sophie had a lot of friends stepping up to help her - as shattered as the girl seemed to be, she was surrounded by friends, by people who held her hand through it. He wasn't needed there, or really welcome, at least in his own mind. That was something Dax could do that Dion couldn't - insert himself into people's circles briefly without a blink of guilt or feeling awkward.

But Sophie was...well, she wasn't okay. But she could just mourn. Ruby - Ruby had had to take over. Sophie and the adults expected her to step up. The other girls wanted her to give them answers that she couldn't. He knew that feeling all too well, even if he'd been lucky enough to not have anyone die. Dax's near death years ago still freaked him out, but Dax had lived. It wasn't the same thing, really, but he still felt like he knew some of what she had to deal with.

The worst part was that Dion had no idea how to be...well, how to be comforting. He wasn't, by nature. Dax was better at it - Dion was blunt. He was serious. No sense of humor. As soft as iron and as smooth as gravel. Had all the hugging ability of a sea urchin. Etcetera.

He slapped himself across the face suddenly, waking himself from his half-daze of self doubt. He realy needed more sleep, but now wasn't the time, even if every muscle in his body didn't want to get up out of bed.

He fumbled off the side of bed, finding his sweatshirt, and rolled awkwardly off the bed. He pulled the hoodie on, and made a effort to get his faux-hawk back in order; even if he couldn't do much about the dark under his eyes, he at least made the attempt to look more in-order than he felt.

Knowing his luck, she'd be somewhere confusing in the castle, instead of in the common room like he'd hoped. Fingers subconsciously crossed, he headed into the common room in search of Ruby.

Nine days. She had survived nine days since the news came. She had been a grown up. She had planned and organized. She had written and given what she was a told a very eloquent and moving eulogy. She had cooked food and held her sisters every single chance she got. She spent more time sleeping in Emily's room than her own. She was not good at this being alone thing... which was new for her. Ruby had always liked to have her own time. She liked to be able to close her door and close out the world. Now she felt she had done that too much most of her life and should have been more available. Of course Nana told her that was impossible - and there was no point in looking back. They just had to keep going one foot in front of the other. She promised it would never stop hurting but at some point she would stop feeling like every nerve ending was exposed to air.

Sitting in the common room, journal on her lap she was adding detail to the words Memento mori. She was thinking of a tattoo - which she couldn't believe. She had always thought it was silly - because what something looked like at seventeen was not what something looked like at seventy. It was just this idea...morbid though it might have been - remembering you were going to die (that everyone was going to die) somehow made it hurt less than her mother had. Well, it made it hurt less for a moment; it reminded her that every second needed to count and she had to stop sitting on the sidelines. She had to LIVE or her death wouldn't mean anything. If all she ever did was fill the spots everyone made for her then they were the only ones who would know when she was gone - and it wasn't like it made her happy. It didn't. It made her feel hollow like she was nothing unless she was fixing something.

Huddled on one of the couches by the fireplace she stole sips from a flask she'd swiped from home. She wasn't drinking all the time - she was not her father. Some nights though it helped her sleep; it kept the images of what her mother must have looked like after the attack from creeping into her dreams. It let her tired muscles that carried the weight of her sisters and rest of her family slowly unkink. She thought about Lou and her perfect lips. She thought about how much easier life would be if she had been born a boy. She thought about the way Thatch gathered her up in his arms and wanted to keep her safe. He wanted to absorb all the pain. She thought of Fauna and Sophie and how the whole world was upside down right now. It was because Sophie felt everything; she felt it and then she could move on from it. Yes she still had bad nights, yes every so often she would burst into tears... but she was leaps and bounds ahead of Ruby in terms of dealing with the fact Ramona was actually gone.

Ruby still woke up most morning expecting an owl from her... and then she'd remember. She wrote her father but she only got incoherent rambling back. Nan said he was on the sauce. That should have been a deterrent for Ruby. It wasn't though, in fact it was the whole reason she'd started drinking. If it worked for Johnny and their dad it'd work for her too. That probably wasn't fair... but it was her logic. Unfortunately as she decided to take a very generous swig the one person who wouldn't understand suddenly appeared in the common room. After her swallow she looked at him - there was no panic; only vague amusement, "Honestly. Do you just show up whenever someone is breaking the rules?" she made no move to hide the flask, simply went back to doodling. The part of her brain that cared about losing house points and her reputation went out the window about half a flask ago. When it became obvious he wasn't going to leave she adjusted her legs so he could sit next to her, "Bad night for sleeping hmm"?

Her tone didn't help his desire to flee back to his dorm. He sighed. "I tried that - put a spell on my wand. It'd glow whenever someone's breaking the rules," he said, partially in jest, and sat down. "Problem was, it wouldn't stop glowing."

It was odd to see her drinking, and as much as he instantly hated it, he couldn't form the words to rebuke her for it. Not now; not when she had every reason to be drinking.

"Something like that," he said, looking at her doodle. "I was just going to ask how you're...how you're doing, is all," he  said, shuffling uncomfortably. He hadn't expected her to be drunk; well. He hadn't expected much - maybe a slap to the face - but he hadn't been thinking of...of this.

"What're you drawing?" he asked, not sure what else to say.

She didn't look up, simply shook her head with a ghost of a smile on her lips; "Strangely I believe you to be completely capable of that - and thinking it was a good idea," what she really wanted was a cigarette. She'd picked that habit up from Johnny. However it was wet and rainy and she wasn't going to push her luck with Dion tonight. She knew he was disappointed in her - it was written all over his face. He was letting it slide because he felt sorry for her. She hated that. What she wanted more than anything was for life to just go back to normal. She wanted everyone to stop tiptoeing around her like she might break at any second.

When he asked how she was she looked up at him with a half bitter laugh, "I'm not the one they sent through the crematorium fire. So all things considered I'm just dandy Di, just dandy," the moment the morbid phrase left her mouth she felt bad. He was trying - and on some level she appreciated that. She cared that he cared - it just all felt so futile. Everything hurt so much all the time - but she was pretending it didn't and got angry when people tried to tell her it was ok to fall apart. She knew it wasn't ok; she knew that if she fell apart everything around her would fall apart. Her mother expected more from her and she expected more from herself. Those were the rules, that was how the world worked, end of story.

No one else seemed to understand these rules. Everyone thought suddenly over night her personality would change into someone who was willing to be open about her pain... it didn't matter that her personality had changed into someone who just wanted to be numb. She didn't want to talk. There were no words for the ache in her chest, for the pain of knowing she would never hug her mother again - never smell her sweet shampoo, never be able to argue with her about what she wanted to do with her life. Raking her fingers through her hair she looked over at Dion then passed him the sketch. The words were written in ornate calligraphy several places on the page, "Thinking of a tattoo. Celebrating our impending doom of graduation".

You're still worried about that? That was so very her, and yet he had a feeling that it wasn't really her at all. - not right now.He sighed, leaning forward, hands on his knees; rubbed his forehead.

"Tattoos...there's good shop in Hogsmeade," he said. "It's pretty easy to get done." He gestured to his stomach, where he had his own tattoo. "The prices are kind of steep, though..."

More awkward silence; what the hell could he say? It wasn't like this sort of thing was something you could just be like "get over it" with, really. It was the death of a parent, so what could you do? Just get on with life, he supposed.

"Have you...decided what you're doing, yet? After graduation." Since she seemed to be thinking about it, apparently. "Still going to move out...?" She didn't have her mother to stop her, now - just everyone else. And she couldn't really ask her mother what she thought, really, not until -

"It's not forever, you know," he said suddenly, almost without his brain working. "You'll see her again."

Ruby looked at him curiously - she felt bad that he was trying so hard and she was rebuffing the idea of needing comfort all together. She couldn't help it though; she just... didn't know how to talk about it. She didn't even really know how to talk about it with her sisters. She and Sophie hadn't talked at all; and while she and Emily had talked they were both awkward and stilted. She wanted it to be different but the world was out of balance. Her world might never be in balance again; so she had to figure out how to live in her crooked little world with her bruised and crooked heart.

Still, if Dion was going to try she could try too. Scooting closer to him she looked down at her doodles and made a small humming noise, "Money wouldn't really be an issue. I have a bit saved up," his tattoo was pretty epic, for a stomach piece anyway. Resting her chin on his shoulder as she gestured to the last doodle (a broken hour glass with Memento mor scrawled across a banner), her voice loose and muscles relaxed, "Emmy says I'm morbid. I keep trying to convince her once you accept you're going to die; that everything and everyone is going to die then you're free to live". Closing her eyes for a moment she took a breath. Maybe she was morbid.

She was caught off guard by his next comment - completely forgoing his question about what she'd do next, "I never took you for someone very spiritual. Of course Nan said the same thing," she didn't remove her head from his shoulder but she did flick a tear away. She was not going to cry and she certainly was not going to cry in front of Dion Fayette. It was a matter of pride. Even if they were sort of friends now; he was not the sort of person she wanted to show that kind of weakness too. Taking a deep breath she chewed the inner part of her lip. "It's just different now. It hit me hardest when I was trying to find shoes to wear to the memorial. You know there is no guide for a girl dressing for her mother's funeral. I had no idea what kind of heels to wear...and for just a minute I headed to her room to ask".

Brushing her hair from her eyes she gave a half laugh and shook her head, though her chin still rested on his shoulder, "I...decided not to take the Ministry internship. I know it probably sounds...hypocritical - but I just can't...not until I know what really happened that night. I think it would be more hypocritical of me to take it and resent being a Werewolf Liaison. Maybe I'm not really a revolutionary after all. If you really believe in a cause I don't think you let personal tragedy outweigh your ability to believe in something," pulling back a bit to look at him her face was twisted a bit in thought before she finally just blurted out; "Do you ever think about the night I kissed you"? Well that was one way to change the topic.

"I'm not spiritual, really," he said. "Just factual..." his tone was little unsure, though not because he doubted his facts; he just wasn't good at this. "She could be watching you right now, for all we know." The Dax in him pointed out that meant your dead relatives could be watching you pee. Or have se-

She leaned against him suddenly and he blushed, much to his shock. Dion Fayette did not blush. He sent his blood away from his face via sheer willpower. It had just been sudden. That was all. And very unexpected, like the fact she seemed almost in a decent mood now.

He'd never get girls.

No guide to how to dress? His mind went to the first response. "You could write one," he said, wanting to kill his mouth for not listening to him. "Sorry," he said quickly. "That was rude..."

Not taking the internship, either...he was dissapointed, but not surprised, not after this - and how she'd died, of course. Ironic death had to be the worst kind, really. "You could be an Auror," he said vaguely. "Or just wait. Just because you don't be a revolutionary," she insisted on using that word. It was true, he supposed, but it did make him want to argue it a little. "Just because you don't do it right out school doesn't mean you're not really one. We're not even really adultsyet, you kno-what?"

Her changing of the subject caught him off guard; one could almost hear the train of his through plunging to its doom. "Do I - uh. Sometimes?" He scratched his head. "In a 'where the hell did that come from' sense, yes."

Ruby snorted taking another sip from the flask before extending it to Dion out of politeness - also because if he drank he couldn't rat her out, "I would hope she'd have something better to do than watch me get mildly drunk so I can sleep," she didn't want to think about her mother watching over her. It made her feel like she was suffocating. So the answer to that was the same one she'd found served her well - pretending it couldn't possibly be happening. It wasn't like she was an alcoholic. She didn't drink every single night. She just...drank when sleep didn't come.

Ruby gave a sharp laugh and shook her head, "Don't be. It's nice to have someone treat me like they used to," she finally quit leaning on him and sunk back into the couch hugging her long bare legs and looking at her slippers; "Everyone seems to expect me to turn into Sophie - to fall apart and cry hysterically. They walk around me like I'm broken or crazy...an maybe I am," she paused pulling her hair over one shoulder and looking thoughtful, "But that just isn't...how I deal with things. I've always had to be the one that held everyone else together. It's like... she spent my whole life training me for this moment".

She grew quiet, resting her chin on her knee as she looked at him from under sooty lashes, her face pensive as she tried to find the words to express what she was thinking in a tactful way, "How do you think it's supposed to feel when you kiss someone? It seems like a silly thing to talk about I know; but I've talked about the other thing so much that my brain just...needs a break. I knew another problem to chew on for awhile - something maybe I can sort out rather than...you know never find answers to," she twisted the ring on her finger and looked at him. It hadn't been a bad kiss - but there was something missing; it wasn't fireworks. She thought then of Lou and the way her mixed up heart went all aflutter anytime she saw the other girl. Was that how it was supposed to feel?

Dion looked at the flask, then sighed - and took it, taking a big swing and regretting it, swallowing quickly. "Ugh," he said, handing it back. "Sleep? You could just take potions, you know. They taste better..." And don't get you in trouble.

Musing on her words, he drew his legs up onto the couch too, kicking his shoes of in a very Daxish-manner. "How do you deal with it, then?" he asked quizzically. "Don't think it's crazy to not act like Sophie, though," he added. "I don't think I would, if Dax died." He smiled slightly. "You'd better not do what Sophie's doing. Who'd stop me from going all Nazi on the school then?"

He was, admittedly, intensely curious as to why she was asking this, and worried it had something to do with her...coping. Not that he was a good judge of sanity...or of kissing. "How it's supposed to feel...?" He shrugged. "I don't know. You mean when you love the person, I assume..." He smiled, a tad sadly. "Never done it. So...slimy., I guess? Tastes kinda minty, if you're lucky."

Wiggling her toes in her slippers she gave a small shrug, "I deal with it by not dealing with it I guess. I don't know. Everything is such a mess - Da's gone full Irish mourning; and Nan took care of the girls while I did...everything. I planned the memorial, I gave the speech, I'm still sifting through condolence cards and letters... It's like I've just segmented my brain - and what I can deal with is right in front of me". She poked him with a slippered foot before her eyes got a strange far away look, "That first day, the day we were home, I sat in her office for hours. I closed the door and I just... tried to picture the world without her. I tried to see myself without her. I went through her day planner, old files, letters - this woman never threw anything out," there was a sad sort of smile on her face as she finally focused back on Dion, "She kept this letter I wrote her when I was eight because I felt guilty for letting Johnny take the fall for breaking one of her favorite lamps. On the bottom I drew a little picture of me looking sad... I had completely forgot about that until I saw it again".

"Sophie is just Sophie. In some ways she's handling it better than any of us because she knows how to let herself be sad. She knows how to feel what she feels and then move on. Not that I think losing Mum will ever stop hurting... I just think it won't consume Sophie wholly for long," there was that thoughtful tone again, "I envy that really; the ability to just fall apart and put yourself back together. I feel like I have to just keep doing things or it will all go up in a puff of smoke. The scary thing is knowing that it isn't other people who need me. Everyone would eventually get along just fine if I wasn't around... but what would happen to me? Who would I be if I'm not... following the carefully laid plans my mother made. I was supposed to step from an internship to a full fledged Ministry job. It was set to go," she rubbed her bare arms a little; more for comfort than out of cold.

"Now I'm all kinds of confused. Which... I guess is normal. I just want there to be one thing I can know; something I can figure out. I remember Mum telling me the first time she kissed Da it was like fireworks - but also it was like she had found the person she was supposed to kiss for the rest of her life. It was natural and comfortable - like she had been saving up the best kisses of her life just for him," she paused toying with her quill lips pursed to one side, "it's strange to think she was only a year older than me when she had Johnny". Blowing her bangs from her eyes she looked at the dying embers of the fire her voice very soft; "I feel like I know all of these things about her... but I don't have any idea who she really was, what she really wanted out of life... how much she would hate me if it turned out I'd rather kiss a girl than have a million babies... just being able to answer one of those questions might put the others to rest," she looked up at him her eyes glittering with unshed tears she hurriedly wiped away, "I guess I'll never know now".

Listening to her, Dion reached over - and poked the side of her head in an oddly affectionate way. "I find it helps to fall apart, honestly," he said. "Releases tension. I make a note to do it once a year or so. Fighting with Dax helps, though."

A shrug. Listening to her talk made it worse, though, for some reason. It made him have to restrain the urge to start talking off the top of his head, which never got him anywhere good.

Carefully laid plans...in Ramona's case they were...probably not as annoying as his own mother's desires, but in a way Ramona had had the ability to make them reality as opposed to his mother just leaning on him to do it. Still, he couldn't help his gut reaction.

"Did you want to? Follow her plans, I mean," he asked. "I don't mean to make her happy, I mean...if she'd never planned all that out, would you have wanted to do it on your own?" He couldn't bring himself to slouch; he settled for crossing his legs and leaning back on the couch, arms crossed.

He gave her an odd look as she spoke of the kissing. "Honestly, Ruby? That sounds like a...woman true-love-oh-my-god-so-romantic thing," he said, half-jokingly. "Like something from Slither Girls. But again, I don't know. My mum goes on about that kind of stuff sometimes and my dad rolls his eyes." He shrugged again. "Dax might believe it, he gets sappy sometimes." His eyes narrowed for a moment; over the wrong people, half the time.

"Besides, it's not like - wait - kissing girls? What?" That had come out of left field.

Ruby looked at him carefully. The question was a valid one. It was something she had been asking herself for the last six months - not just since her mother's death. Swallowing hard she gave a helpless shrug, "I honestly don't...I don't know. I have no way to know," chewing on her bottom lip she focused on her feet, dark hair forming a curtain around her face as she tried to occupy the smallest space possible. "There was never a question of what I wanted to do; just what I was going to do. She put so much...of herself in me. Johnny had the natural ability to follow in Da's footsteps; and Emmy is smart enough to do anything she wants...I was the one who was supposed to take care of them all," she gave a half sniffled laugh and shook her head.

"I was just always going to be her. I wanted what she wanted for me. It was easy you know? I never had to...struggle with the idea of who I was supposed to be because it was all laid out for me," finally she looked up at him with her bottom lip caught between her teeth, "That sounds awful doesn't it? Like I have no spine or drive of my own". Raking her fingers through her hair she left her hand there sort of rocking back and forth, "I do believe in SAWS... but there is this bitterness in my heart. This anger - this feeling of betrayal I can't let go of. I keep thinking it wasn't supposed to be this way. She was supposed to live forever. She was supposed to change the world. I'm not ready for that torch. I'm not ready to be the one who takes care of Sophie. I'm not ready," shaking her head before resting it on her knees she took a deep breath. She did not want to cry in front of Dion.

Of course now she'd opened a can of worms. Why did her tongue have a mind of it's own tonight? Oh, right, she was drinking. Taking another large gulp she eyed him carefully  for a moment, "If a word of this goes past the two of us just know that I have ways to make your life more miserable than it is now". It was easier to sound ominous when one was sober - but the threat probably got the idea across as the silence stretched between them. Sucking on her bottom lip she wiggled her foot nervously before speaking in a very quiet voice, "I think...I think I'm in love with Lou..." her voice trailed off as she looked at Dion with a mix of embarrassment and a sort of plea for understanding. "Please please don't tell anyone Di, Emily and Sophie don't even know".

Honesty - Dion's specialty, and his own worst enemy.

"Yeah, it kinda does," he said bluntly. "You're your own person, Ruby. And your mother is - was - hers. Her turning you into another her - intentionally or otherwise - is kinda messed up." He sighed. "Sorry, but it's true. I mean, if it turns out that's who you are, then fine, but..."

Another helpless shrug, and he let his breath out. "We all have to struggle with what we want to be, I think. It's a part of life. And we change it a lot, too. You're lucky, in a way, that you know what you want to do. Most people our age don't. Hell - I don't know what I want to do, in the end. Auror is just a starting point, but.."

He trailed off and let her talk, his eyebrows rising and trying to disappear into his hair.

"Good luck with that," he said in response to her threat. He was too busy being surprised to say anything else, though. "So...you're a lesbian?" he blurted. "Or bi, or...?"

Ruby was about to jump down hos throat and tell him she could say whatever she wanted about her mother but he had no right - only she had said it hadn't she? Her mother wanted her to follow in her footsteps so Ruby had. She had been molded from a young age to be this certain kind of person. She never questioned who she was or what she was going to do. She didn't have the gumption Sophie and Emily had. She didn't have the sass. She envied them that, the ability to step out of the shadows and just be who they wanted to be. Sophie changed her mind about who she was faster than the seasons. Ruby had never questioned continuing her mother's work because the work was important. Fighting from the outside, being vocal, drawing attention was important - but the thing that really made things change came from the inside; getting the right people in seats of power.

 She gave a small laugh and shook her head, "That's just it Di; I have no idea who I am or who I want to be. I don't even know who I want to kiss. I wish my life could just have neat little labels on it". She stopped talking then, stretching her legs out to rest in his lap, elbow on the back of the couch propping up her head, "I like labels. I like knowing where everything goes. Compartmentalizing is a part of how I learned to survive. We let everyone think we had this picture perfect home life - and don't get me wrong we did have a good life... but John and his antics caused a lot of issues in my parents' marriage. The only way I knew how to get through it was to fuss over Soph - to protect her from the truth".

Chewing on her bottom lip she turned her eyes toward the ceiling, "I don't know how to protect her from this. I don't know how to protect her from the pain of falling in and out of love. There are all these questions she's going to have - and now it's going to be my job to answer them," she paused and shook her head looking back at Dion, "how can I possibly do that if I don't even know what I am? I've never been in love before; she's so young but she tries to act so grown up". Rubbing the bridge of her noses her other finger fiddled with her quill, "I don't even know if I'm really in love with Lou. I get so confused - maybe I just wish I was like Lou; the kind of girl people noticed, she an Sophie have this magic about them that has nothing to do with being witches. They just suck you into their orbit and you can't get away...maybe I just want to be that kind of person".

Her legs landed in his lap and Dion jumped a bit in surprise, but when she started talking again he relaxed, leaning back into the couch and closing his eyes as he listened. His head lolled slightly, easing into the couch.

"Then let that be a label," he said, voice almost a murmur. "Even if we don't know who or what we want to be - I think most of us know who we are, deep down. Go with your gut until you know where you can put labels, until things calm down." He smiled slightly, eyes still closed. "Not much point in putting labels on chaos, is there?"

His body was relaxing fast; his voice dropped to a kind of growling mumble - not angry, just groggy. "I think...in some cases, the answer to that is...don't. Sometimes you have to throw people off cliffs, you know? Let 'em climb up on their own."

He couldn't help twisting her own words a it as he continued. "I don't know. We're young, Ruby. Can Carter love you the way you need? Even if she returns your feelings...what do you need, right now? That's probably where to focus. You said you like labeling things...label your priorities, then. What's important to you right now? How are you going to move forward?"

He grunted, aware how heavily sleep was calling to him. "...did I just contradict myself?"