Trouvaille - something lovely discovered by chance
A Slytherin and a Gryffindor are sworn enemies. Families, friendships, relationships, all are infected by house rivalry.
So are James Potter, proud and brave Gryffindor, and Aquila Black, cunning a...
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The next week was spent in a state of melancholy, overthinking and stress.
Had Rowan really gone over to the other side?
What did this mean for everyone's friendship?
What did this mean for Regulus and Adrian?
With each question, Aquila added leaves to the potion brewing in front of her, her vision clouded by the fumes coming out of it. Her mind was running so fast that she could barely keep up.
On one hand, there was Rowan. Her best friend since she was eleven, her partner in crime, standing on the 'bad' side.
On the other hand, there was James, who had joined a Quidditch team, as well as an organisation founded by Dumbledore, which was apparently top secret.
"Do you maybe wanna die?" A voice interrupted her thoughts. Her eyes flitted to her coworker, an Indian girl named Arya who always wore kohl under her eye and somehow didn't look like a raccoon. She was leaning on the counter beside the potion threatening to overflow, her eyes occasionally flitting to it.
"Not this way, no," Aquila said, snapping her fingers to turn off the heat and waving her hands to put the potion into vials.
Arya gave her a light smile, her eyes distractedly on the cauldron, the thick green goop almost near the surface. "Do you have any particular preference?"
"For dying?"
"Yeah," Arya said casually. "I'm personally a bit biased towards living a long life, but that could be just me. I would be happy with a good old stabbing, though," she said, as if they were talking about the weather and had been best friends for the longest time.
For a first conversation, this was admittedly the best one Aquila had had.
"Why not a killing curse? It's painless," Aquila asked curiously.
Arya laughed wickedly. "What's the fun in that? I want drama when I die."
Aquila gave a surprised laugh. "I would prefer poison, I think."
Arya made a face. "You're so boring. I thought Blacks were supposed to be more fun," she said, turning back to her tabletop and grabbing a knife.
"Who told you that?" Aquila mused, waving over a small vial with weird fur-things dancing inside it. "I suppose I'm the only Black you know, aren't I?"
Arya smiled a secretive smile. "We can say that one of your cousin's and my trip to France coincided."
"My cousin? None of my cousins went to France- oh dear," Aquila gasped as realization dawned on her. "Narcissa?"
"As narcissistic as her name and worth it," Arya said, lightly kissing the tips of her fingers.
Aquila barked a surprised laugh, nearly dropping the vial in her hands. "No way. That is absolute gold."
