It was 7 o’ clock in the evening, and the corridor was empty.

Ten minutes later, it wasn’t.

Silently Gracie waited by the window, back pressed against the wall and face half-hidden by the gloom. Across from her dust continuously floated past, in and out of the light let through by the window. The room itself was far from warm; clad in more than little else but jeans, flats, and a woolly sweater about one size too big, she could feel the cold seeping into her clothes with ease, making her more and more aware of the resounding silence.

And beside her lay a bag. It was small, made of a curiously rough cloth, and the same dull brown shared by potatoes. It also contained a bottle of liquid that was spiced, chilled, and of a dark, amber color.

Tonight Gracie planned on plying her best friend with alcohol—all for the sole purpose of unwinding, of course; one would have to be blind not to notice how much the girl was in need of it and Gracie liked to think that she wasn’t that shitty of a friend. Should any other little goals in her agenda be achieved—like finding out just what the other girl would do when her cousin passed on that crown and scepter—it would be purely by coincidence.

Unfortunately, with exams looming so closely on the horizon, her idea was also, quite possibly, one of the worst she had ever come up with.

Silently, almost nervously, Gracie waited.

As if Livi didn't have enough on her plate, now she had to deal with stupid Ravenclaw boys. She was absolutely livid over the things Lucas had implied about her. She was not just another Kitty Li, she wasn't weak. Her lack of drive in inciting a riot was because there was no one suitable enough to take Meave's place yet. Jordyn could be, Jordyn would be - but they had to put certain measures into place before any of that could happen. Honestly staging a simultaneous military and political coup against the ministry would be far easier than taking out Kitty Li and making sure she'd never get up again. That was really the problem; Kitty was a tyrant. It came down to how deep one could cut without risking cutting off their own lifeline. Who knew what would happen when people started taking sides?

She was still fuming over his implications that she was just too lazy and scared to do something about it when stomped into her dorm room and caught sight of a little slip of paper tucked under the edge of her pillow. As she changed from her uniform to something more comfortable (what, mildly dressy dresses could be comfortable!), she skimmed the note and felt another pang of guilt. Gracie. Liv hadn't been much of a friend lately and it was possible that someone had already gotten to the other girl and told her that Liv had been "studying" with Lucas and made it sound much worse than all that it actually was. When she had agreed to go over HoM with him it hadn't seemed like a big deal. Their interactions, especially since his break up with Gracie had been cordial at best.

Liv wasn't rude to him but her loyalty was to Grace. It always had been, it always would be - which was exactly why she should not be so upset he'd given her another valid excuse to ignore his existence. Taking her hair down from it's hasty ponytail she shook out the dark locks and pulled on a pair of shoes before heading out the door and toward their usual "spot", making sure to grab a blanket while she was at it. She knew the castle got cold this time of night and knowing Gracie she wouldn't have thought that far ahead. Of course one could hardly call Liv pragmatic in her little pink tea dress either. Squaring her shoulder she didn't even pretend that Gracie wouldn't hear her heels coming down the corridor, though when she finally reached the distracted girl she did grab her 'round the middle and yell "BOO" so loudly it echoed a little.

Liv’s approach, Gracie could hear miles away. Laughing quietly, she turned around to return the hug. “You couldn’t startle a snail, Livi,” she said, pulling away slightly. “And. . .”

Green eyes caught sight of a dress that would do absolutely nothing against the cold. One brow rising, Gracie tsked—shook her head—and took hold of the other girl’s hand. “You’re totally going to freeze, you know,” she told her as she tugged Liv closer to the spot where both sack and bottle lay. “But, nevermind; I got us a present-”

Letting go of Liv’s hand, Gracie went over to a sheet-covered couch propped against the wall. Mindful of its thick layer of dust, she lifted its sheet gingerly, and a rummage under would produce two blankets, one that was a pale, worn red, the other a faded olive. Both clean were clean. She offered the smaller one—the olive one—to Liv and began to spreading the other on the floor. “It’s in the bag,” Gracie indicated with a tilt of her chin as she did. “The two rocks inside are glasses.”

Once everything was sorted out, Gracie carefully eased herself onto the blanket. The bottle uncorked and the rocks Transfigured back to their original shapes, Gracie—as the ‘host’—began to pour. “It’s been a while since we’ve done this, hasn’t it?” she smiled, holding one out to Liv. It wasn’t really a question, but in cases like this Gracie had never been much for words. Still, she offered the other girl a mischievous smile. “I apologize in advance for being unable to hire us any eye candy on such short notice.”

"Fashion isn't meant to be subtle, Love," well that wasn't entirely true. Most of Liviana's closet was full of demure things, little black dresses, skirts of appropriate length, blouses with frills or bows. Her style was very classic, she owned two pairs of jeans and both were only worn when Dazmond needed her help gathering or brewing. The rest of the time Liv wanted and thus did look as chic as possible. It wasn't because she was competing with the rest of the Monarchy; she just liked to feel pretty and she didn't feel pretty when she wore tattered jeans and work boots. She wasn't afraid to get dirty but she certainly didn't enjoy it the way Daz did.

Letting the other girl tug her along, she tried to push Lucas from her mind. He didn't have a right to be there in the first place. It shouldn't have upset her in the least that he thought she was vain and shallow. She told herself the only reason she was giving it any thought at all was because Maeve was so close to leaving. If Kitty were sort of placed in charge of the group it would be worse than 'meet the new boss, same as the old boss'. Maeve was mean but she kept Kitty in line. Maeve had also changed in the last year, grown up a lot; she seemed to place value in different things now - while still lording over them that she was the blondest prettiest Princess.

Gingerly lowering herself to the floor, she tucked her legs carefully and kept her brown eyes on Gracie. She should tell her. There was no reason not to tell her. It wasn't as though Liv had some designs on Luc, she didn't particularly ever want to talk to him again. Of course if she really didn't want to have anything to do with him then why did it matter that she'd spent time with him at all? It didn't, so why bring up something that could cause a fight? She wouldn't. Nope. And then Gracie looked at her and without any thought at all words starting tumbling out of painted lips, "Do you think I'm vapid and shallow and weak because I haven't beheaded Kitty yet? Because you're the only person I trust to tell me the absolutely truest truly truthful truth".

Green eyes widened with surprise. Had Gracie been any other person, she would have choked. That “No,” came out more emphatic than she had intended. Where had that come from?

...Actually, never mind. She had a pretty good guess where.

“No, I don’t,” she repeated, a little more calmly—gently—as she quietly set the glass beside her. “I think you may regret it later, yeah,” said the memory of Eamon telling a much younger Gracie that mad dogs were always  to be put down the first chance you got, “but that doesn’t make you vapid or shallow. You’re not interested in playing queen the way she is, and it just goes to show that you know what would happen if you had—that Maeve would be more likely to choose you.”

There were far worse fates than that, Gracie knew. There were perks to being Queen, such as the knowledge that you had power over people, or that (sane) people would think twice about screwing with you and your friends. Being Queen meant that you had the final say—that you could change things, possibly for the better, if you felt moved to.

And that was partly—if not mostly—the reason why Liv shied away from it all. That shiny proverbial scepter meant a responsibility over others a girl would be hard pressed to give a flip about, and it meant sticking your nose in things you’d rather not. It meant keeping an eye on the sociopath at all times, playing Carrot and Stick the whole damn time, as well as constantly trying to stay at least several steps ahead of everyone else.

It meant that if the responsibility didn’t break you, it changed you. Yes, Gracie was grateful that Liv didn’t want any of it.

“Getting rid of her would probably just make you look better in Maeve’s eyes, anyway,” Gracie finished. She took another sip of her drink. “You’d be the best of both worlds: sane, like Dimbleby, with Kitty-grade claws.”

---

Liv shook her head and sighed, "It's all so... stupid. Why am I the one that's expected to fix things? Jordyn is just as capable; more so in some aspects because she's a Prefect. She also thinks the way some people," she paused to give Gracie a meaningful look, "are as insane as we do. I hate the implication that I'd ever bow down to Kitty. It makes me sound weak," and there was that slight huff as she leaned back. Weakness was not encoded in her genetics. She felt like she constantly had to fight that stigma; and there was a stigma. Sure lots of people who knew Dom now hardly gave thought to the fact ten years ago his  choices had been prison on the pitch...but not everyone forgot.

Then Nate had been arrested in connection to that stupid Runespoor ring; bringing all kinds of suspicion onto Daz. Liv wasn't stupid she knew that much of the family dealings were not above board. She also knew that that was the very reason she couldn't slip up. She was the last chance at a new face for the next generation of Wiedmans (if there would even be a next generation). She had to be poised and polished, she had to get the marks, make the friends, and keep score. Did she sometimes break the rules and sneak a smoke or skulk off to some corner with Gracie to sip on something less than legal? Sometimes, yea, she did.

Sometimes she needed to not worry about what everyone was thinking and how she was supposed to be making them think something else when she really just wanted to throw a half dozen hexes at them. Who was Lucas to judge her for wanting to keep her head above water? He didn't live in her world; sometimes she felt like Gracie didn't even really live in her world. Of the two Slant had far more freedom to "be herself" but she still knew there was a game to be played and she played it well. Maybe that was the real difference, some of the girls chose to play where Liv just had to. She had to because she was a Wiedman, she had to because she was a Whitman. Someone had to make a bankable name and overshadow misdeeds done in Knockturn.

Twisting her hair around one finger, Liv chewed her bottom lip, "It wouldn't just be a matter of knocking her down a peg or two and her staying down you know," she paused to look at Gracie, "If someone wanted to put an end to Kitty's reign of terror they'd have to shame her so hard she was forced to leave the country". Nothing Kitty had done (as yet anyway) would bring about the appropriate amount of damage to really make an impact. It wasn't like Hogwarts held on too hard to any memory unless it was too juicy to ignore. No one even talked about Ava anymore, it was almost as though she never existed. If they could forget her so quickly...Liv just sighed and placed her head on Slant's shoulder, "Why does it all have to be such a chore"?

“As opposed to being fun?” Gracie grinned, lightly resting her head on top of Liv’s. “Liv, love, if it was easy someone would have done it by now.”

And it sure as hell wasn’t. Getting any kind of dirt on their fellow yearmate would take digging they couldn’t do by themselves and tools that they didn’t have. The shi- er, stunts Kitty had pulled were ones that couldn’t be traced back to her. On top of that, they were heavily insured by threats; ‘This could be you,’ said the delicate-looking Asian’s reputation as another girl’s tears were added to its myth. ‘And it still could be...’

“You should prolly have a chat with your cousin,” she suggested idly into her glass. A sip here and there had brought it to less than half of what it had been. She refilled it. “I mean, from the way I see it, you can go about it two ways: tell Maeve upfront before the... ceremony—” Just barely she refrained from rolling her eyes. “-Or you can refuse during it, should she actually choose you.”

Presumptuous thinking? Sure. But it was the fact that it could happen that she and Liv were still talking about it now. And if Liv didn’t want the damn thing, ‘queenship’ and all, then Gracie would back her up, any and all ‘greater good’ be damned.

---

Liv scoffed slightly and shook her head, "Maeve knows how I feel. She wants to leave me in fair enough standing Kitty can't touch me but..." she gave a small shrug, lightly bumping Gracie with her shoulder. It was tricky, navigating the social waters of Hogwarts. Maybe Liv should have done more to end the entire mean girl cycle. Maybe she should have been a paragon of righteous virtue, maybe she should have called Kitty out for the Waker stunt. There were a lot of maybes in her world; and the fight she had just had with Lucas made her skin feel slimy. Why was self preservation wrong though? Why was she the bad guy because she didn't do more? Why did she have to make herself a target to be deemed worthy in the Ravenclaw's eyes? He had no idea what it was like, he had no idea the pressure she was under. Hadn't she told him herself, hadn't she pointed out as clearly as the nose on his face connections could make or break you?

Why did she even care what he thought, what any of them thought? The important people, the people who really mattered knew who she was. The perception of outsiders had never mattered before, why should it matter now? She had the image she had, she had been a part of the things she had been a part of... why give people the chance to hurt or reject you? She knew the point of this little meeting was to get her to loosen up, to drink just enough to dissolve into giggles and let all be right with the world again. The problem was Liv didn't feel like letting her guard down that much at this point. She felt cagey and more emotional than she wanted to admit. "I think somehow telling Maeve how worried I am about Kitty's position, about what she's capable of... it'd make her a front runner. Let's face it, the seventh year politics of it all have been dead for awhile. She has no one to challenge her authority so she's hoping for a blood bath from us".

There was something in Liv that allowed her to see the most horrible parts of the people she loved and be completely unaffected by it. She didn't judge Maeve for using the crown to her own amusement. She didn't begrudge her cousin the right to dangle her position over the Monarchy like a pack of rabid dogs. So long as the pretty blonde didn't expect Liv to leap on command  (and she didn't) Liv didn't try to sway her much one way or the other. She would talk up Jordyn as much as she could and hope for the best. If the group splintered over the summer... there were worse things that could happen. It was strange to think of it in those terms; but Liviana knew that once they graduated there were very few of her fellow Princesses she would want to share her life with. Evie had already removed herself, obviously Kitty would be dropped as soon as humanly possible - and the rest... well she would hold onto them as tightly as they held on to her.

Of course Gracie was exempt from that. There would always be Gracie, and the boys. It was so much simpler with people like that. Running her finger tip around the lip of her glass she sighed and shook her head, "I cannot wait for June 13th. I'm ready to be done. This year has been far too taxing," and it really had been. Between Ava's death, the Werewolf attacks, those idiots in S.A.W.S., Dom and Daz being  completely shady, and the race for Slytherin Queen it was mildly amazing that Liviana got any studying done at all. Ava... it had been a good long while since she'd thought of the seventh year. It cut a little to think how long it had been since she had heard anyone even mention the poor girl's name. Everyone had their way of dealing with loss, she supposed, but it seemed inherently wrong that people seemed to forget so quickly. That was the thing about their world, you were only important so long as you were in eyesight or earshot.

A sigh—soft and faint and drawn-out—echoed the other girl’s sentiment, and Gracie took another long sip of her drink. Their fifth year hadn’t been without more than a few upheavals, with Ava’s death and the March attacks, and Foley’s expulsion and those exams to look forward and all, and it wasn’t even over yet. And Liv, Gracie knew, had a lot more to worry about than she did.

Not for the first time, Gracie was grateful that her dad had left her with her loony mum. Grateful that he’d given in to his parents and left her and her mum behind without little more than an awkward head pat and a cushy bit of money, grateful that she wasn’t living in, say, Venice or Paris with those oh so Pureblood grandparents who would’ve dumped all sorts of ideas on her that she wouldn’t agree with now. She would probably be worrying about some of the things Liv was along a similar strain, had he not...

Still, she’d bet good money that it wasn’t just those things and everything else that had her best friend strung and wrung out. Pushing, though, wouldn’t get her anywhere, she knew, and it wasn’t her way anyway. But one more probe... That couldn’t hurt, right?

“So, just the usual, then?” Gracie asked lightly, bumping gently right back. “Just schoolwork and politics? No boys giving you gray hairs?” She gave Liv a mischievous smile.

The silence between the two swelled; though not uncomfortably. With her head resting against Gracie's the world didn't feel quite so heavy, Luc's words not so sharp, but she knew it was a temporary reprieve. In the back of her mind, as always, was the tick tick tick of all the things she needed to do, the places she needed to be, the people she needed to impress. It was always there, just lingering - that was what Gracie meant by all the usual things, all the things that were always weighing on her mind. It wasn't that she wanted to lie to te other girl - she never willingly did, not even by omission. There was a bond of trust between them thicker than any devil's snare. Liv just didn't know what to say. She didn't understand herself why what Lucas had said bothered her so much, why it made the underside of her heart feel raw.

Pulling back to look at Grace she gave her a tired smile before kissing her forehead, "Of course Darling. You know I haven't got any use for the boys in our years and what good are the one's headed out the door? Besides, me liking someone would make my mother far too happy and you know how I despise doing that too often," it was best to battle off the discomfort of not knowing with humor. Make a joke, giving a tittering laugh, dust herself off - the only person in the world who would notice was sitting right next to her; but right now Liv had O.W.L.'s to hide behind. She didn't have to admit to anything until it was sorted out - maybe not even then.  As far as she could see Lucas would never understand the how or why of what she had to do. Living outside a glasshouse made it much easier to cast stones.

Finally she downed the shot with a wince and shook her head, "Come on Love, I've got Transfiguration first thing and I cannot be hungover when I see Professor Tawse or his robes'll make me lose my breaky," again there was the fain fond smile on her lips as she reached out and tucked a lock of the other girl's dark hair behind her ear. It was true enough, Liv wasn't really one for midweek drinking; come most Friday's she might let her hair down but school was important to her - and not just because it was important to her parents either. Standing on slightly wobbly legs (the feeling rather numb from sitting on a stone floor) she smoothed the skirt of her dress. In these moments she wondered how Dolly had managed to supposedly do all of this with flair and style. All Liv could think about was the soft material of her night shirt and getting out of her damn heels before offering her hand to Slant and tugging her toward the door.