Chapter 2
The second time they meet, Beatrice has managed to ditch the dresses and is wearing pants, and like Ava said when explaining how she survived her time in the orphanage 'It's the little victories'. She is still wearing a white blouse buttoned all the way up her neck, and long sleeves that hide everything from her knuckles.
It's another one of those 'diplomatic meetings' where Beatrice is just here for show, standing quietly behind Bernard and just nodding politely whenever someone notices her presence. Some sort of strange instinct makes her wish she were back home, but she snorts at the thought. Everything is better than being locked in her room at the manor, or freezing to death in the park in the hopes of having a few minutes to herself.
Professor Vincent is here, and she can feel his indecipherable gaze on her as she looks down at her shoes. His presence only means one thing, one single little thing that somehow makes Beatrice's stomach flip no matter how hard she tries to stop it.
Ava is here. Ava is somewhere around here, but somehow she managed to avoid going to the meeting, and Beatrice envies her and wonders how she can be that free.
"Let's move to the meeting room, shall we?" Professor Vincent says, and looks pointedly at Beatrice, with an intensity she can't understand.
All of the high placed witches and wizards nod their agreement and start migrating towards another golden room with expensive paintings and furniture that Beatrice doesn't understand the costliness. She follows in Bernard's footsteps, hiding in his shadow. She likes to think of herself as that: a little shadow, hiding in the darkness and pulling the strings from behind the scene. That's all Beatrice is these days: a shadow ; of her family, of the world, of herself.
Just as she is about to walk through the door behind her brother, hands grab at her shirt and she is yanked away under a tapestry, her scream muffled by a hand that slams itself onto her mouth.
"Shhh," a voice whispers right onto her face. "Don't make a sound."
She recognizes Ava's voice just as she buries the tip of her wand in between her ribs, and Ava gaps.
"Is that your wand, or are you just happy to see me?"
Beatrice burns bright red and rolls her eyes at the same time, slapping Ava's hand away from her mouth. On the other side of the tapestry, witches and wizards keep walking, buzzing in quiet conversations and neither of them move, too afraid of being discovered.
"What are you doing?" Beatrice hisses more than she whispers, and realises in doing so how close Ava is, practically flushed against her body.
"On the other hand, I am happy to see you," Ava replies dryly, a hint of bitterness in her voice.
A little pinch of guilt makes its way into Beatrice's heart, but she dismisses it, shaking her head. Ava's breath smells of alcohol and not the bitter wine Beatrice found in her parents' cabinet.
" Ava ."
"English."
" Stop calling me that. "
"Stop being so... British."
She giggles and Beatrice can only feel her leaning over, her eyes still blinded by the darkness.
"Why didn't you tell me you were her? 'The New Areala'?"
"Why didn't you tell me you were the Young's daughter?" And Beatrice can practically feel her sticking her tongue out at her.
Beatrice shuffles nervously on her feet.
"I didn't think it was that important."
Lie. Lie lie lie lie lie. She didn't want to be associated with them. She wanted to be herself, just for a few minutes.
"Same," Ava says, shrugging.
"Are you drunk?"
"Nah. Not yet, anyway."
"Alright, well, I have other business to attend to."
'And I can't be found hiding with a pretty girl again,' she tells herself, trying to move Ava away without being noticed from the other side of the tapestry. Of course, that's the moment when she hears the door close behind the last guest, and freezes, mind screaming against the walls of her skull.
If she opens the door to come in late, every eyes will turn to her and she will be told that she is embarrassing the family, at best, deprived of dinner, at worst.
All because a strange girl decided to kidnap her.
She turns around, pretending not to notice Ava's low cut shirt and her tight jeans that make her look like anything but a high witch with everyone's expectations on her shoulders. Her hair is less messy than last time, but it still falls down her back in unruled golden waves.
"You made me miss the meeting!" She hisses in a slightly strangled and panicked voice.
Ava shrugs.
"What were you going to do in there anyway?"
"I don't know!"
"Listen to them talk about my future while I'm not even around to decide for myself? Watch them fight about whether or not I'm a liar? Or even better: hear them whisper that they gotta keep the Catholic Church out of the story 'cause they're starting to hear about me?"
Beatrice doesn't answer this time, because she doesn't have anything to say. What could she say? Ava is right. She didn't even want to come to this meeting for starters. And from what she's being told, it would have been a trial in itself.
"Oooor," Ava says, wriggling on her spot, hands tied behind her back with a smile on her face. "You could be building bridges between your family and the famously known 'New Areala', yours truly," she says, bowing, and Beatrice blushes when she remembers the last time she bowed to her — and how lightly she kissed her knuckles.
"I— I'm not sure..." Beatrice stutters, and she hates herself for it.
"Come oooon," Ava whines, pouting. "It'll be fun. My friends are waiting for us right now."
And so Beatrice gives in.
"Fine."
Ava does a little victory jump, bouncing with excitement.
"Sweet! Come on, follow me!"
And Beatrice forgets all about her protests as Ava grabs her hand and starts pulling her along corridors and galleries. They run past attendants and Aurors that Ava doesn't even seem to realise are here. Finally, they exit in a courtyard and Ava turns around, back to the building, looking up.
Four people are settled on the roof, jumping and yelling and cackling when they see Ava, waving at her. Beatrice recognizes Ava's friends from last time.
"Ava, come on," Randall yells, hands cupped in a megaphone. "Zori is eating everything!"
"I'm not!" Zori yells back, throwing what seems to be chocolate frog at his face and he shrieks in horror.
Ava giggles, taking a couple of steps back and extending her arms, beckoning Beatrice closer.
"Come on," she says, but Beatrice simply looks at her, confused. "Here," Ava finally says, putting Beatrice's arms around her shoulder and wrapping her own around her waist.
"Ava—"
"Hold on tight, spider monkey," Ava giggles to herself.
And then she's levitating, carrying Beatrice with her as she does. She can only yelp as her feet leave the ground, gripping desperately at Ava's shirt.
"Oh, Merlin's beard!" She swears, closing her eyes tightly and burrying her face against Ava's shoulder without being able to stop herself.
"It's okay," Ava giggles. "I got you. I won't drop you, Beatrice."
Beatrice still keeps her eyes closed, clutching Ava's shoulders and holding onto her for dear life, as Ava rises slowly, not even faltering when the wind wraps itself around them, and then lowering herself until Beatrice can feel firm ground under her feet.
"Open your eyes," Ava whispers right into her ears. "It's okay."
And so Beatrice does, because what else can she do than what Ava says? She opens her eyes and she is standing on the enhancement that encloses the roof. She lets go of Ava and drops to her knees, putting her hands flat against the warm stone. She's shaking too much to ask how Ava can even do that.
"Thank you, Lord," she whispers.
"Why does she gets a steady ride and all we get is a fucking rollercoaster?!" Randall asks, offended, and Chanel nudges him with her elbow.
"Because she's a pretty girl and you're not."
"I could be! I would be the prettiest girl of them all!"
"Nah, that's me," Zori replies, throwing her hair over her shoulder.
Beatrice hugs the stone, her heart drumming in her chest, and she doesn't care how ridiculous she looks; Ava is laughing, and that's the only thing she can hear against the thump of the blood in her temples.
"Come on," Ava says again, helping her up.
They make their way to Ava's friends, Beatrice slowly finding her footing back as she climbs up the roof, Ava's hand hovering over her just in case.
"Here," Chanel says, throwing a piece of chocolate that lands on Beatrice's lap. "You look like you need it."
"You said that the other time," Beatrice remembers. "Except you were giving me Firewhisky."
"We can still work on that," JC says, holding out a bottle, but Beatrice shakes her head, chocolate in her mouth.
If her parents find her smelling of alcohol in the middle of the day, she's done, chipped off to another mausoleum and she knows she won't survive this.
"So, Ava," Zori says expectantly, "aren't you going to introduce us?"
"English, the gang. The gang, English," Ava simply says, shrugging as she takes a sip from a glass that Randall gave her.
"Wow, that's helpful," JC sneers.
"I know your names," Beatrice says, suddenly bold and brave. "You," she says, pointing to Chanel, "are Chanel, and you are JC, and you two are Zori and Randall."
"How the fuck does she know that?" Randall asks as Ava giggles behind her hand.
"Ava said your names last time. I guessed."
"I told you she was smart."
Beatrice looks down at her lap, cheeks burning, trying to look away as they all grin at each other.
"Well, we don't know your name," Chanel says softly, and Beatrice decides that she is perhaps her favorite.
"Beatrice," she mumbles back.
They all mumbles different versions of 'Hi Beatrice', like children forced to greet their parents' guests, and Beatrice has to stop herself from smiling.
"So, Beatrice," Zori says, leaning on her lap to look at her over Randall's head. "When are you going to drop the act and tell us — tell Ava — why you are really here?"
"Zori!" Ava hisses, sending her daggers through her eyes.
"What? It's true. They think they're so subtle but who are they fooling?"
"Leave it, Zori, let the girl breathe," Chanel intervenes as Ava shakes her head.
"I— What do you mean?" Beatrice asks, both confused and playing dumb.
"Your mom is pratically drooling over Ava's magic," Zori says bitterly. "You aren't really here just for vacation or shit, am I right?"
"Zori, fuck off," Ava replies, standing up and throwing her head back to drown the contents of her drink.
Beatrice shrugs.
"If it makes you feel better, I am really here for 'vacation', as you say. I didn't have a say in this. I didn't have a choice. And I'm just here for show. My parents don't ask anything of me, so don't be scared that I'm spying on you," she bites back.
There. There she is. She knows that situation. The bites and the barks of teenage girls, she grew up with it, she can deal with it.
"See?" Ava says. "Stop being a dick, Zori."
She hears Zori whisper something under her breath, but at least she stopped jabbing at her.
"Well, good news for you, you are officially going up the social ladder around the New Areala, and you are already being presented with its privileges," JC says, throwing a package of candy at her. "Free food!"
At that, Ava laughs, stealing from his candy and sliding down the roof to perch herself on the enhancement.
"So I guess the sex meant nothing to you?"
"Don't flatter yourself, Silva!" He yells back, and Ava whirls around laughing, as Beatrice's stomach knots into itself with anxiety.
"She's not going to fall, is she?"
"Meh," Randall simply answers.
"What does that mean?"
"Meh."
"What does that mean?!"
"It means," Chanel says, pushing Randall away, "that Ava has a taste for the theatrics. She might jump just to— Oh well she just did."
"What?!"
Ava just disappeared from her spot on the edge of the roof.
"Ava!"
Beatrice skids down the roof like it's a playground slide, heart drumming in her chest as she catches herself on the enhancement, leaning over the edge to look at the void in front of her. Ava is cackling as she rises up again, covered in a golden glow that warms up Beatrice's skin as she reaches her hand towards her. Behind her, Ava's friends are laughing and fighting for a chocolate frog.
She lowers herself until she gracelessly falls on the stone, her foot hitting the roof with a thud and a groan from Ava.
"Are you okay?" Beatrice asks, carefully balancing herself to kneel next to her.
"Yeah, sure, it's just a joke," Ava promises, rising to sit with her legs on both sides of the enhancement. "I'm good. Sorry I scared you."
Beatrice doesn't know what to answer. On one hand, she wants to scoff that it takes more to scare her, but that would actually be really sad rather than some ridiculous bravado, on the other, she hates how her heart is still drumming in her chest from when Ava reached out to brush her fingers against her shirt.
"Don't traumatise the girl too much, Romeo!" Chanel yells behind them, and Ava raises her middle finger at her, a smile on her face.
"They seem used to it."
"Yeah," Ava says. "I used to fling myself from the window when one of my teachers was being boring, just to annoy them."
Somehow, the fact that Ava was a class-clown fits just right in the idea that she had of her.
"It's not new for them, I guess."
"Lucky them," Beatrice mumbles under her breath, and Ava laughs, hair bouncing around her head.
"You really thought I was going to die?"
"Well, you did jump from a roof, excuse me for being worried."
"Awww, you were worried about me?" Ava coos, nudging her shoulder with the tip of her index.
Beatrice burns bright red, lowering her eyes to the ground. She's used to mockery, she's used to reproaches, she's not used to teasing. It disappeared the day Melanie did.
Ava laughs a little, then she quiets down, swinging her legs on either side of the enhancement.
"I was serious, earlier. I can get you some connections with the—" a wave of her hand, "The high placed people. For some reason they all think I'm some sort of magical messiah, so, if it can help get your family off your back, I can help you with that."
Beatrice wants to scream.
Because there are so many things wrong with that statement she doesn't even know how to react. A part of her panics, because Ava knows something, she has felt something in the way they treat her, and if she knows, if she does something, they're going to kill Beatrice. Kill her and bury her body in the family mausoleum and tell people how much of an ungrateful and petulant child she was and it makes her skin burn with shame and anger. Another part makes her throat tightens, because Ava doesn't know the extent of the whole thing, she doesn't know and Beatrice wants to tell her, to watch the scandalised light in her eyes so she can remember that she is not crazy, that this is not normal.
Another grabs Ava's hand, and makes Beatrice look at her right in the eyes, searching for her gaze, for her to understand.
"Ava. Don't associate yourself with my family. They're not good people."
"Yeah, I know, the whole pureblood thing is not exactly a---"
"No, Ava," Beatrice says, shaking her head putting a couple of fingers under her chin to make her raise her head, make her look at her in the eyes. "They are not good people."
Please , she wants to scream, please run before they get you too. Please take your sun and take it away from them, before they suffocate it with their darkness.
She wonders if telling her about the mausoleum would make Ava convince her that this is not normal or if it would be exposing herself to the big question: what did you do to deserve it?
"Oh," Ava says, and Beatrice wonders if she knows, if she guessed.
"Don't trust them. Don't believe a single word they say," she presses her. "Don't give them anything, not even lies. They'll turn it into their pitchforks."
"Like you do?"
"No," Beatrice says, shaking her head. "Not like I do."
They got me, she wants to say. It's too late for me.
"I trust you," Ava answers, squeezing her arm.
"You shouldn't. I am not a good person either."
"I don't believe that," Ava says, with undying faith that makes Beatrice's heart skip a beat. "You're kind , Beatrice. And you're good . Don't let anyone take that away from you."
Beatrice opens her mouth to scoff, to roll her eyes and tell her sharply she doesn't know her. But a voice cuts through the light wind around them, and she freezes.
"Beatrice!"
Bernard is standing outside, chin raised as he looks up at them, a scandalised look on her face.
"Get down from here, now!"
Beatrice hears Ava's friends mumble things like 'Party-pooper' and she's very tempted to give her brother the middle finger, like they did to each other earlier, in a childish act of rebellion — If they want to treat her like a child, then so be it.
Ava seems to feel her revolt, as she smirks at her, raising an eyebrow.
"Looks like the party's over."
"Should we jump?" Beatrice proposes.
Ava throws her head back, laughing.
"As much as I'd love to give your brother a heart attack, Professor Vincent would beat my ass up."
Beatrice shrugs, as Ava stands, beckoning her closer, and Beatrice wraps her arms around her shoulders willingly this time, looking closely at her brother's face when his eyes practically bulge out of his head, Ava chuckling in her ear.
"Ready?"
Beatrice nods, and they jump slightly into the void. Bernard shouts, and Beatrice laughs, wind swirling around them as Ava slowly lowers them down until their feet touch the ground, and only then does Beatrice let go of her, turning to her brother who is gaping at them, completely outraged.
"Where were you?" He finally hisses.
"Building bridges with the New Areala, sir," Ava answers, cheeky and cocky and full of mockery.
Bernard's gaze darts toward her, shooting daggers at her face.
"How dare you—"
"Bernard, enough."
Beatrice doesn't realize she spoke until she hears her own voice echoing in between them, and she shivers at her own boldness, feverish with terror and anger.
"Was there something you wanted to tell me?"
Ava's friends are looking over at them from where they are hiding on the edge of the roof, whispering to each other like naughty children.
"Mother and father are waiting for you."
"Good," Beatrice says, and surprises herself with the firmness of her own voice before she turns to Ava, and Ava's face is lit up with joy and a contained laughter. "Ms Silva. We'll see each other next time."
"Sure thing, Ms Young," Ava says, playing along. "And don't forget what I told you."
Beatrice has a friend now, and she holds her chin up as she walks back to her parents, with Bernard trailing behind her.
She's not his little shadow anymore.
For now, at least.