Molly once heard her mother discuss a special gift given to women, and that was fraternal sisterhood. Running errands together, lounging about in bras and eating crisps, spending hours living companion-like lives was a special gift given to women alone. It wasn't often that one might spot a pair of blokes out in a shop, one waiting patiently while the other tried on shorts, the spare taking time to look for his friend's sizes. It was a comfort unique to women, marred only by a competitive nature that perhaps kept the sexes equal in this way.
This was, of course, an expansion upon the essence of what Molly's mother had said to a friend that she no longer spoke to. So it goes.
The point being that despite a year of distrust, of resentment, of terse pauses and snappy replies, neither Margo Richards nor Molly Weasley could properly shake the other off. Molly had been absolutely certain that the summer might mean an actual break from Margo, that she would finally enjoy the solitude she wanted. But the few social invitations she wanted to accept, she knew had been extended to Margo as well. As much as she didn't want to pour efforts into cultivating her relationship with the destructive blonde, it seemed almost as invaluable to actively cut ties. Time would do its work.
And it did. In a way she wasn't quite expecting either. It wasn't often Molly put much stock into her mother's words but there must have been some truth to it. The comforts of getting ready alongside the blonde, the routine of flagging the Knight Bus and splitting fare, of bailing each other out because it was just code... it all happened in a way that was natural. To deny the dynamic they had established was to deny breath. In the presence of those who made her believe she could be more, she wanted to deny Margo, as surely as Peter denied before the cock crowed. But alone with only her true belief in who she was, it was nice to have someone next to her, humming to herself, chatting on about nothing, ignorant to or perhaps willfully ignoring the ugliness in the brunette next to her.
Satan's wouldn't have stopped them if they had ID's that said "please don't let me in, I'm underage." Any good bouncer knew that keeping a proper female to male ratio was crucial, and a pair of good looking girls who looked like just enough trouble to drive up bar sales without causing bar fights were always allowed in.
Margo, who had been labeled lacking in skills by every professor, immediately secured them two free drinks with a pout and a smile. The drinks were downed quickly and a laughing patron rewarded them with more. Molly finished her drink quickly while Margo leaned in to thank said man - therefore ensuring another couple of drinks. The dark haired girl slipped between the moving bodies and felt the music creep into her bones, moving her, animating her limbs, her chin dropping as eyelids slip down over her eyes.
All these moving bodies, matching rhythms, giving up to a beat, controlled by a man with a playlist, giving over thought to sensation, all one, all none-
It was like not existing. They could understand how she felt every day.
Her people.
Her eyes slid open and flicked towards the bar, searching for that familiar mane of blonde, but instead fell upon-
Oh no.
These were her people.
But definitely not her real people.
It was crowded, and there was no reason she should worry about them finding her. But Margo was mid-laugh and soon would cast her eyes about, and as soon as they fell on either three of the other students, the game was up. Escape was hardly worth it. She would be speaking with them.
And so it goes.
((I was impatient to post but felt them approaching the others was a little premature. Just stating my interest. haha **))