The Green Trio

November 21st, 1994

The days following the party had felt like one endless hangover and Luka was barely able to curb her nausea. How could everything be so clear and yet so fucking blurry all at once? The memories played on like a broken record skipping every second beat, but she knew. She knew what had happened. The deafening silence inside her hadn't gone away, and no noise seemed capable of filling it.

Once Luka knew something, she could never just un-know it as much as she tried to shove it down. She could remember in tantalizing detail the momentous truths that shaped her very being as much as she denied them, from the first time she was called a freak by her muggle classmates in primary school to her mother telling her they couldn't tell her soon-to-be stepfather about where she actually went to school; Luka had always known she was an outcast from her very inception and now, even if she vehemently denied it, she understood yet another reason why that was so.

The deafening silence inside hadn't gone away since Saturday, and no noise seemed capable of filling it—not even the excitement of another weekend.

She weaved her way through the halls, staring down at her feet until she'd found her way outside and sat on a stone ledge in the courtyard, waiting for her friends. Other students were in small groups, scattered around like marbles—or gobstones. Despite her years in the magical world, Luka still found herself clinging to muggle words, trading God for Merlin as if they were synonymous.

It was a good thing she didn't believe in God otherwise that'd be blasphemous.

Sighing, she tilted her head up to the sky, squinting against the sunlight. She could feel the clawing again, her mind pulling her back to the party. How ironic that she'd wished for a secret to keep and now, with one in hand, she only wanted it gone. She wanted less to understand about herself. Wanted to be something palatable to others.

Not her friends. Her friends wouldn't care. She knew Cersei and Diana, knew she didn't have to be something digestible to them, and yet that did nothing to shut her nerves up. Do I even have to tell them—what is there to tell? Nothing. There's nothing to say. I have jack-shit to say.

"'Ello," came a feathery voice. "It was Luka, yes?"

Her stomach dropped.

Peeling her dark eyes away from the sky, she turned her gaze to Fleur Delacour who was wearing a cute pale blue peacoat. Try as she might, Luka couldn't help but notice how pretty she looked against the wintery backdrop.

"Uh, yeah, yes," she said. "Fleur. Something wrong?"

"Oh, no, no. I only wanted to come and say 'ello. I 'ave been wanting to zank you for inviting myself and my classmates to your party." She smiled. "Zere is not much to be impressed with at 'Ogwarts, but it was quite fun."

Luka nodded. "That's, um, that's good. Glad to hear that."

In her head, she was desperately willing Fleur to leave, to go away, but the older girl didn't move. Instead, she seemed to be inspecting the Prefect badge pinned to Luka's coat—which had been put there simply to piss off Edgecombe even when they weren't in uniform. Gently, she pinched the black material and brought the badge closer to her.

Luka felt her cheeks heating up. Go away, oh my Merlin leave me the fuck ALONE.

"You are a Prefect?"

Luka could barely bring herself to nod.

"Curious." Fleur stood to leave, pausing to touch Luka's shoulder. "I look forward to ze next 'Ogwarts ga-zering."

And like that, Fleur left, only throwing a small goodbye over her shoulder as she rejoint her group and trotted off to Hogsmeade.

Luka swore a decade had passed in the few seconds following, barely cognizant of the pair approaching from behind.