A Search for Balance

Chapter 33 - A Fateful Dinner Date

It was past lunchtime when Lizzie left Orion's place, feeling exhausted, tired, and happier than she had in months. Returning to the home she had shared with Skye after weeks was strange, but not even the prospect of facing her former housemate was enough to dampen Lizzie's mood.

The door wasn't locked when she entered, the ground floor even messier than she had expected. Stepping over Skye's discarded heels, heaps upon heaps of laundry and stray pieces of Quidditch gear, Lizzie made her way into the kitchen. Having tea with Orion was all fun and games, but her body had begun craving coffee with a force she couldn't ignore any longer.

Lizzie had turned on the coffee machine and taken a cup and the sugar bowl from the cabinet when heavy footsteps could be heard on the stairs. A moment later, Skye appeared in the kitchen door, wearing a worn-out sleeping shirt and a pair of boxers. In her hand, she held her wand. Once she recognised Lizzie, she put it away.

"What are you doing here?"

Lizzie's eyebrows rose fractionally. "I live here."

"No, you don't. Not anymore."

"I'm still paying rent, am I not?"

"Whatever, but for the record, the coffee you're making is mine," Skye muttered in response. "Good thing I didn't fire a hex straight down the stairs. Thought you were a burglar or something."

"Hoping I'd steal your laundry, weren't you?"

Talking to Skye like this felt strange; the two of them had barely spoken a word since their fight in Wimbourne, and none at all off the pitch. Skye didn't seem too concerned with the situation, however. She was poking her head inside the kitchen cabinets, on the hunt for something to eat.

"Quite the big deal last night, wasn't it?" came her muffled voice from inside a cupboard. "Say what you want about the Magpies, but they know how to throw a party."

Lizzie made a nondescript noise, stirring milk and four teaspoons of sugar into her coffee. She hadn't seen much of the Vernal Ball, but that wasn't something to rub under Skye's nose. With a triumphant noise, Skye emerged from her cabinet with a packet of Cheeri Owls in one and a small bottle of Wiggenweld Potion in the other. It was brewed after a recipe their friend Penny Haywood had modified at school and the best cure for hangovers Lizzie knew; Skye definitely looked like she needed it.

"Pass me one, will you?" she begged as Skye upended the bottle into her mouth.

"Sorry, last one."

"Why do you always get the last one?"

Skye shrugged and blew a ring of steam from her mouth before shaking some Cheeri Owls into a bowl and pouring herself the largest glass of orange juice Lizzie had ever seen. She suddenly paused and looked back at Lizzie with a frown.

"That ain't what you wore yesterday, right?"

"Don't think it's an appropriate outfit for a ball?" Lizzie said defensively, acutely aware of the colour rising to her cheeks. She knew her tone was snappy, but wasn't in the mood to discuss why she was wearing clothes that weren't hers. Coming to her own conclusions, Skye pointedly looked at Lizzie's left hand.

"Where's your engagement ring?"

Lizzie shoved her hand into the pocket of her borrowed trousers. "Why does everyone always want to know about this bloody ring? It's not a name tag. I'm allowed to leave the house without it."

The curious expression on Skye's face faded. "I was just asking."

"And I was just answering."

"Whatever. Forget it," Skye muttered, snatching her wand and the bottle of orange juice from the counter and marching from the room with her breakfast floating behind her. Lizzie stared after her, already feeling sorry by the time she heard the door to Skye's room slam shut. With a sigh, her eyes dropped to the trail of milk and cereal Skye had left on the floor, and she reached for a cleaning rug.