Being a Greengrass after all should sound pretty serene.
But being a part of "the Emeralds" should not, especially when hearts become entangled with the infamous Regulus Black.
Goodness, lawfulness, or evilness. Which path will they tread in the ti...
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October 12th, 1984
Big day, big day, big day.
Today, she was going to become a Black. She was finally marrying Regulus Arcturus fucking Black.
The thought ricocheted violently through Avery's brain as she sat in front of Pandora Lovegood's vanity mirror while three different women tried to fix three different parts of her at the exact same time. For the better part, Avery had done her own make-up: her bridesmaids were just "touching up" everything.
She exhaled through her mouth for what had to be the thousandth time that morning, trying to quiet the stampede of thoughts threatening to trample her alive: the overwhelming urge to vomit directly onto the carpet.
"Beautiful!" Pandora squealed with that smile of hers Avery had always adored, stepping back after adjusting her eye make-up to add more "whimsy," according to her.
"You've said that six times already," Dorcas said from behind them, carefully curling a strand of Avery's hair around her wand.
"And I'll say it seven more," Pandora replied matter-of-factly.
"Why only seven? That's not very generous of you, Dora," Avery looked up at her best friend through her eyelashes, pouting slightly.
"Oh, Merlin help us," Lily muttered from across the room, though there was laughter buried beneath her voice as she fought with the wrinkles in Marlene's dress.
"It was wrinkled artistically," Marlene defended from where she lay sprawled dramatically across the carpet, one arm thrown over her eyes. "You people simply don't understand fashion."
"You threw it at the floor," Lily deadpanned.
"With intention!"
"That doesn't make it less ridiculous."
"It absolutely does. Ask Dorcas."
Dorcas didn't even look up from Avery's hair. "I'm refusing to involve myself legally."
Marlene frowned. "Excuse me? My own girlfriend can't abandon me in my hour of need."
The corner of Dorcas's mouth twitched upward despite herself. The room glowed warm around them, crowded with perfume bottles, scattered jewellery, discarded ribbons, and far too many champagne glasses balancing dangerously on every available surface. Rain tapped softly against the windows while Celestina Warbeck crooned faintly from Pandora's wireless in the corner.
It felt achingly familiar in the same way Pandora and Xenophilius's wedding had felt the year before — chaotic and overflowing with love in a way that never quite looked polished but somehow became beautiful anyway.
Avery remembered standing beside Pandora then, fixing her veil while Pandora nearly cried because Xenophilius had picked wildflowers himself for the ceremony. And now it was her turn. She hadn't even realized she'd been spacing out before Dorcas noticed it first. Her hands slowed slightly in Avery's hair before she met her eyes through the mirror.
