here's to us

[Alice Prewett]

If it was possible to actually wear holes into the ground due to excessive pacing over the same spot, then Alice would have been falling through the ceiling of their living room by now. Her knuckles were dry from the amount of times that she'd wrung her hands and, if she hadn't been so flustered, she would have immediately applied layers of lotion on them because the feeling of dry skin made her very uncomfortable. As it was, her own physical comfort was the last thing on her mind at the moment. No, no, what was currently on her mind, what was making her wear out the floorboards of her room, so to speak, was the conversation she was about to have with her little sister. It wasn't a far cry from the truth to say that Alice could be quite the mother hen, and when it came to her only sibling? That saying became an understatement. She'd always been overprotective of her little sister. Well, okay, that wasn't entirely true, since there had been a few months in the beginning where Alice had been insanely jealous of all the attention that was on the new baby and she couldn't understand why she had to share her parents with this bundle of pink flesh and tiny, flailing limbs that was noisy, smelly and, quite frankly, not very attractive. Realisation about her new role as a big sister hit her pretty quickly, however, and Alice slid into it like a natural. Even at the tender age of three, she did as much as she could as a toddler; whenever her sister cried, she tried to calm her down by making funny faces or offering her own of her toys until her mother came and properly took care of the matter. As they grew older, the protectiveness evolved with them until it took a rather overbearing turn where Alice became somewhat of a second mother in how she treated and acted around Beth, constantly checking up on her and making sure she was all right, ensuring that she was properly fed, constantly asking her about her grades and how school was going. She was really just short of calling Beth "young lady" during her lectures - and there were, of course, lectures to be given, especially considering Beth's new-found rebellious streak. But at the end of the day, Alice adored her to bits and, unlike their mother, she was more understanding and was more likely to cover for her sister rather than punish her (although a lecture was surely involved in some way, at least). Also, y'know, she was cooler than their mother and all.

But right now, Alice didn't feel cool. Not at all. Because she was certain that what she was about to tell Beth was going to upset her and she wanted to avoid it completely but, unfortunately, that wasn't possible because she had already been avoiding this topic for too long. She'd been very unmotherly lately - selfish, in fact - by leaving home like that and staying with Frank instead of facing their current family situation like the adult she claimed to be eighty percent of the time (the rest was the time she allocated for Lucy and May and their crazy shenanigans). It was what she needed at the time, but she felt guilty as heck about it now, especially since she'd all but abandoned her sister in her time of need. Granted, Beth hadn't been aware of the situation, and she still wasn't, so (Alice assumed) she just thought that her sister was off enjoying her winter break while on an extended sleepover with her friends. But tomorrow was New Year's eve, and Alice figured she ought to break the news to her sister before then since "hey, guess what, our parents are separating!" didn't seem like the best thing to start a new year with. Better to ruin 1977, which is almost over anyway, than to start 1978 on a bad note. Then again, this news would carry over into the new year, which kind-of defeated the purpose. Still. She needed to be told. Alice couldn't keep dodging the topic, and she knew her parents wanted her to be the one to break it to Beth, so she didn't have another choice.

Resigned to her fate, Alice finally stopped making rounds in her room and unconsciously moved to her vanity table, applying coconut-scented hand lotion. Gathering her courage, she left her room and made her way down the hallway, barely managing to reign in the temptation to rip off one of the many moving portraits of her parents looking seemingly happy (because it was all just one big, fat lie) that were hung up along the corridor. She doubted her parents would be too pleased about that and, as outraged as she was with their behavior, she was still too much of a good little girl to do something like that. Now Beth, on the other hand...well, if she wanted to let out her rage in a completely healthy manner, then who was Alice to stop her?

Drawing in deep breaths in order to compose herself, Alice knocked softly against Beth's door, calling "it's me, Alice," through the mahogany wood, waited several beats until she was admitted and then opened the door. "Hey, Bethie,"[

[/color] she murmured, hoping her demeanor didn't appear too distressed. She'd always worn her heart on her sleeve when it came to people she was particularly close to, though, and Beth was one of those people who could probably read her like an open book. On any other day, she wouldn't mind. But today? Well, it certainly wasn't helping. "There's something I need to talk to you about,"[/color] she started after she'd shut the door behind her. As soon as she said it, Alice winced. Like that didn't sound utterly ominous. She moved towards the bed and reached for Beth's hands, holding them in hers tightly. Part of Alice being overprotective and motherly about her sister meant that she had the tendency to view her as a delicate flower, which gave her the idea that she needed to protect Beth against any rough winds that wanted to scatter her petals, so to speak. Thus, she needed to break this news to her as deftly as possible.

"This is probably going to be hard to hear, but I figure I might be the best person to tell you this. I'm sure that you might have noticed that things weren't always perfect with our parents. Even though they never really argued - and that, in and of itself, is strange because I believe that every healthy relationship that has lasted this long is bound to encounter conflicts and maybe that should have been a sign...but I digress."[/color] She drew in a deep breath and decided that maybe just out-right saying it would be best. Treat it like ripping off a band aid; quick, but less painful than dragging it out. "Mum and dad never really loved each other, and they've decided to get a divorce. They're both seeing other people already. I'm so sorry, Beth, I know this must be really upsetting to hear that, I know it was for me, but just know that I'll be here for you whenever you need me, and that our family is not going to fall apart, because I won't let that happen."[/color] Anxiously, Alice searched her sister's face for signs of distress, fully prepared to gather her into her arms and comfort her if she needed it.

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

[Annabeth Prewett]

Christmas break had never really appealed to Beth—as a matter of fact, any break from Hogwarts that she had to spend at home had always been sort of annoying to her. It was breaking off from the perfect world she’d built around herself where she knew who she was, who her friends were, what to do, where to go, and had distractions like the interesting classes, after-school activities, and Quidditch practice where she could just forget about everything and have fun. At home, she had Alice, and that was it. In fact, if it weren’t for Alice, Beth would probably not even come home at all—she could always stay for the Christmas holidays at school, and go to a friend’s place over the summer. She was sure Aiden would probably let her if she asked. At the very least bunk in his yard somewhere. She’d never liked being at home, from the moment she grew up to be really conscious about what was going on around her—her parents’ fake as hell marriage, the house that held so many pictures of ‘the happiest family’ in every wall. Her room was literally her only sanctuary in it, where she could shut the door and pretend she was somewhere else. But Alice was the exception, as always. When she was around, things were better, because they could shut themselves up against the world and talk about anything, usually avoiding social topics because Alice tended not to like whom Beth hung out with, and it was the same otherwise. But in those moments, things were okay because she wasn’t alone, and she had someone who really, honestly cared about her no matter what. Loved her for who she was, who she wanted to be, and all of the good and bad things about her.

Which was why when Alice had decided to basically run away from home—she’d heard her say something along those lines through the door to her room—to go to one of her friend’s houses, and stayed there for over a week, without a trace, an explanation, nothing, she’d left Beth totally alone in her house. Which wasn’t such a big deal really, except that Beth had to stand her mother and father, and the way they were obviously avoiding each other, and were forcibly polite in her presence and all she wanted to do was smash her mother’s stupid wine glass against the wall and yell at them to stop being so fucking fake all the time. Because they saw her as their little girl, still, and like she was fragile or dumb or that fucking naïve, and nothing pissed her off more than somebody underestimating her like that. It was only okay when Alice coddled her like that, because Alice coddled. Her parents talked to her like she was a baby. Anyway, Alice had left, and Beth had slammed the door to her room and shut herself in for the rest of the week after Christmas and resisted the urge to dump all the Christmas presents her parents got her—literally, loads of them like they could somehow make up for the fucked up parenting skills that they had—out the window, and it was incredible, really, how little her parents knew her. She wouldn’t have put it past them that they asked the clerk at the store what to get a fifteen year old girl and bought the first thing that came to mind.

And yet, she couldn’t find herself being actually angry at Alice; cause Alice was, in a way, more fragile than she was, even though to her, the complete opposite was true. Alice got her feelings hurt easily, even though she appeared to be all tough and that, and she honestly believed in the good in humanity around her. She couldn’t blame her for wanting to run away from her parents being this way lately, away from home, to somewhere, anywhere, that was perfectly imperfect, instead of attempting to keep up the appearance of perfection while being cracked and broken underneath. She’d spent the entire break flying outside, tossing balls into the air and zooming around on her broom before dipping in to catch them again, running away at night after her parents had gone to bed and going for a jog, taking a smoke in a nearby park afterwards, watching people walk down the snowy street, completely oblivious to her presence. Doing nothing much in particular, really, and that was just fine with her. She didn’t even know what she was doing for New Year’s—she’d probably go to a bar somewhere, hope to get in with some heavy makeup, and do whatever until it was over. Stupid expectations for these great dates like Christmas and New Year’s kind of pissed her off, really.

But anyway, she was lying back on her bed, music playing loudly from the stereo on her desk, her eyes closed as she relaxed and did absolutely nothing before New Year’s Eve. Alice had been back for a couple of days, though they hadn’t really talked much, and though her sister looked refreshed after whatever the hell she’d done when she hadn’t been home, there was still a lingering anxiety in her eyes that made Beth wonder what she was chewing herself out for now. There was a light knock on her door, and Beth wrinkled her nose, holding her breath and praying to whoever was out there that it wasn’t her mother attempting to bond with her over something, and let it out, relieved, when Alice’s voice announced herself. She sat up a little, pushing herself back on her elbows and lowered the volume of her stereo. “Come in,” she called out, clearing her voice when it came out a little rough from lack of use. She lifted her eyes up to the door as Alice let herself in, looking equally distressed as usual, and came in to sit on the bed with her. Beth chewed on the inside of her lip and scooted back until she folded her legs underneath her, crossing them at the ankles over the bedspread, and let her sister take her hand. The worst thing was, she could have bet anything that Alice was going to attempt to talk to her about her parents’ failing marriage—maybe she’d already found out about their father seeing that woman and wanted to discuss it with her. Yes, she decided, that was probably the case. So she licked her lips and tried to look as encouraging as possible while Alice explained herself.

Alice talked and talked about how their parents had never really loved each other and yeah, okay, it wasn’t an issue that they’d ever really discussed with each other their whole lives. Beth had always figured Alice was happy with pretending everything was fine, but it seemed like maybe she hadn’t been pretending, and she’d really actually believed it was great. Well, shit, she probably wasn’t taking this well, was she? Beth pressed her lips together and nodded a little, letting her continue saying that they were getting a divorce—fucking finally—and they were seeing other people, and that their family wasn’t going to fall apart because she wouldn’t let it. “Oh,

[/color]” Beth breathed out, wondering how she was supposed to react. She figured Alice probably expected shock, indignation, tears, even, but she couldn’t even let herself be in the slightest bit upset. “That’s a relief,[/color]” she said instead, and looked up at her warily, not wanting to upset her too much with what she was saying. “I just mean…it’s good that they’re getting a divorce, you know? If the marriage hadn’t ever worked for any of them; it’s good for us, too. We don’t have to just see them pretend for us anymore.[/color]” She just hoped Alice wouldn’t judge her too hard for having known this already. “How are you taking it?[/color]” she whispered instead, scooting closer and squeezing her hand. “Is that why you ran away for a while? You were that upset?[/color]”

Because after all, even if Alice was older, she sometimes needed to be on the receiving end of the comfort.
[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Alice Prewett]

To say the least, Alice was shocked by the lack of reaction she was getting from Beth. She wasn't exactly expecting tears or anything, but at least some shock, or some sign that she was visibly upset. But instead, she was rewarded with relief and Alice really couldn't help but stare at her in complete bafflement. If it was a relief, did that mean she had known? And if so, how was that possible when Alice herself hadn't noticed? Had she really been so blind that she didn't notice what her own younger sister did? Not that Beth was completely incapable of noticing things, Alice had always thought the girl was more mature than most people gave her credit for, than Alice gave her credit for sometimes. But still. This was something even Alice hadn't known! Or maybe she had known. Maybe, deep down, she'd always known that there was something off about her parents' marriage, about the strain beneath the smile, the way they only touched when they felt the need to, the way that sometimes they acted like friends instead of lovers. Alice had, of course, never minded the lack of PDA because what child wanted to see their parents do that? But normal couples at least kissed in front of their kids all the time, and her parents...she couldn't remember the last time she saw them kiss, if they ever had. Had the facts really been staring her right in the face all along, and Alice had simply been in denial? Apparently so, because if Annabeth had noticed it, then...yes. Alice really had been that purposefully blind. It sent her reeling and she took a moment to stare at her lap with wide eyes, trying to absorb the fact that her parents' marriage had been crumbling before her very eyes and she had done absolutely nothing to stop it, let alone notice it. Then again, it wasn't like she could done much, could she? You couldn't force two people to love each other, no matter how much she wanted to. It was just difficult to accept the fact that her parents simply didn't love each other, because growing up all anyone ever knew was that your parents were meant to be together forever, and that it was their love and bond that you looked up to, the one that you wanted for yourself. And now? Now Alice didn't know what couple she was supposed to look up to.

"Yeah...yeah, I guess that's true," she agreed with a small frown, not entirely aware of what she was saying anymore since she was still trying to accept the fact that Beth knew. She was slightly startled when she realised that Beth was trying to comfort her. It was kind of ridiculous, because wasn't she supposed to be the older sister? The one who knew better, who knew what to say what to do? Hadn't she come into Beth's room to deliver the news along with some comfort? She'd expected maybe anger from Beth, confusion, anything but this coolness, this aloofness. It made Alice feel wrong-footed and confused and she almost wanted to leave the room until she gathered her wits about her, but that would be stupid and unnecessary. So what if Beth was capable of accepting something like this more than Alice? It had been obvious from the very start how different they were. Still, Alice had been...kind of counting on Beth to be upset, so that she could take on the older sister role and forget about her own misery in favour of comforting Beth. But now that the roles were reversed, Alice couldn't get rid of the misery that overcame her at the thought of her parents separating, of having to continuously travel between two homes and watch her parents try to win over their affections again, going through step-parents and possible half- or step-siblings. She'd have two homes, two families, two of almost everything and she didn't want that. She didn't want her parents to get a divorce. She just wanted them to be perfect and wholesome and maybe that was naive and juvenile of her but she was only seventeen years old and was allowed to be that way! Except that Beth was handling this so well while Alice had run off for a week to live with Frank, and that somehow made her feel worse about herself, made her feel like she ought to toughen up and be a grown up about this, but it was so hard when all she wanted to do was fall into her little sister's arms and whine about how unfair this was.

Instead of doing that, Alice breathed in deeply and fidgeted with her hands, her brow furrowing in a deeper frown. "I'm...doing okay,"

[/color] she said, inwardly wincing because it was a lie. She wasn't doing okay at all. She wanted to throw a tantrum and say she wanted her family back. She wanted to pretend everything was okay again. She wanted her parents to keep up the charade because she had been believing it so far. But it was too late for any of that, and there was nothing she could do about it. "Yeah. I left the house and got kind of...drunk,"[/color] she admitted, wincing guiltily. "Ran into Frank Longbottom and he took me back to his apartment. He let me sleep over and I wasn't feeling up to going back yet, so I figured I'd stay a little longer. I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly without really saying anything. I honestly am, Bethie."[/color] She licked her lips nervously. "I'm so surprised that you knew. I just...I didn't even have an inkling. Maybe because I just wanted to pretend there was nothing there. I feel so stupid now." Frowning again, Alice tucked her hair behind her ears and then looked at her little sister, who was too wise to be a Slytherin. The Sorting Hat should have put her in Ravenclaw instead. But then, Alice shouldn't have been put in Gryffindor, since she was obviously not brave enough to stick around when she's told about her parents' failed marriage. How on Earth was she going to become an Auror when she had that memory constantly revolving around her head? "Why didn't you tell me earlier? I mean...you must have noticed that I had no idea. Or something. Or..." She trailed off with a sigh, realising it sounded too much like she was accusing Beth of not telling her when it was her own damn fault for not noticing. "Never mind. It's not important."[/color] She shrugged her slim shoulders and then squeezed Beth's hands tightly; this time, it was for her benefit more than the younger girl's. "I really don't want them to break it off though, Beth. Everything's going to change and...not for the better. Is that stupid? I feel stupid."[/color]

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

[Annabeth Prewett]

If there was one thing that bothered Beth about all this, it was that never before had she been taught in one of her endless etiquette lessons, ‘how to deal with your parents’ divorce’. Of course it wouldn’t have been included in any of those, nor her parents would have wanted her to learn about that, but like hell it would’ve been useful now. No child was taught how to deal with something like this—sure, they learned how to eat properly, what to do when strangers approached you, how to properly decline an offer, how to dress, talk, and act in important company, but never was a child taught from an early age what the fuck they were supposed to do when their parents announced a divorce. In any normal situation, it was like the world that they knew had been ripped out from beneath their feet, leaving them stranded by themselves on their ass, clueless and lost. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what children without siblings did with something like this. Even though she had already seen the flaws in her parents’ marriage, and divorce, though something that hadn’t actually crossed her mind before because she figured her parents would have rather kept up the appearance of a perfect family rather than go ahead with breaking up, was something more of a relief than anything, Beth hadn’t actually stopped to think about how to deal with it. She’d always figured she wouldn’t have to. She’d just go with the flow and pretend to be upset by it, and then shut herself up in her room until everybody left her alone and she could move on with her life. Her life wasn’t tied to her parents’ life; in fact, it was years since she’d felt like she needed them in it.

The problem was, it wasn’t her dealing with it alone. It wasn’t her just deciding to shut herself off from the world, pissed and annoyed at the whole ordeal and figuring out what to do with her life from now on—the problem was, Alice seemed to be in a whirlwind of emotions, and so little in control of her life right now that it was her duty to make sure her sister would be okay. Alice wasn’t a rebel, really; she’d never run out of the house like that, not escaped, and it should have probably worried Beth if she’d thought for a second that something might happen to her, or she might to something to herself, but she hadn’t been. Sensibilities and hot-headedness aside, Alice was a strong person, and she would never succumb to hurting herself on purpose. Besides, she had friends. Mudbloods and other crap they might be, but they were her friends, and she was sure they’d take care of her, like they took care of her at school, when they weren’t around each other. So Beth kept her hand in Alice’s and listened to her tell about what she’d done once she left the house. Beth didn’t really know who Frank Longbottom was—she knew his family were purebloods, but he’d been in Gryffindor, which meant he most definitely associated with mudbloods as well, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste inwardly. Outwardly, though, this wasn’t about her—it was about Alice, so she stayed quiet and listened, shaking her head immediately when she apologized. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, offering her sister a smile. “I figured you needed your space, and I knew you’d be back. It’s not like you moved away forever.

[/color]”

But then came Alice’s shock at her already having suspected any of this, and Beth, again, felt guilty for never having said anything. Subconsciously, she figured, she might have pretended to be clueless about it for Alice’s sake. Alice had been so happy thinking that her parents got along so well, and everything was perfect with the happy family picture they painted for the world, and even in their own house. It made something unpleasant and angry churn inside her stomach towards her parents, having hurt Alice like this. “You’re not the stupid one,[/color]” she muttered instead, glancing towards the door as if she could glare at her parents to death across walls. The guilt came back again, strong, when Alice asked her why she hadn’t said anything before, and Beth looked down at the comforter between them, taking a breath through her nose and not saying anything. It wasn’t like she could say that she hadn’t wanted to upset her, right? It would make Alice feel guilty that she’d been ‘burdened’ with the knowledge or anything. And it seemed almost insensitive to her sister to not pretend to be in the slightest bit upset by all this. So she looked up at her sadly and made a face. “Maybe it is for the better,[/color]” she said quietly, looking around and shrugging a little bit. “Mum and dad will be happier. Definitely. And that’s good, right? I mean… it’s not like we’ll be left parent-less. They’ll be less focused on worrying about each other, and pay more attention to us, right?[/color]” Beth whispered, looking up at her sister eagerly. In a way, Beth kind of liked Alice taking care of her—not when she was being overbearing, but she liked feeling loved, wanted. Not by her parents of course, and it was a blatant lie that she was saying, that her parents focusing more on them would be a good thing. In fact, it’d be terrible. But maybe Alice needed them looking after her, still, and that was a good thing.
[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Alice Prewett]

That's what it all boiled down to, wasn't it? The fact that Alice wasn't alone in this. That she couldn't just throw a tantrum and stomp around angrily and claim that it wasn't fair and that she never wanted to see them ever again. She couldn't run away and not deal with the consequences when she came back. She had Beth to think of. And that was both a good and bad thing. Because on the one hand, Alice couldn't be immature, couldn't deal with this on her own in her own way because there was Beth to think of, Beth that she had to be strong for. But then, on the other hand, she had Beth, she had someone she could lean on, someone who relied on her, someone who understood what she was going through because she was going through the same thing. Although Alice wasn't exactly dependent, she wasn't entirely independent either. It was just...nice. To know that she had someone there for her all the time. She didn't know what people who were only children did, because she couldn't imagine living without Beth. Even though there were times when they were distant, or when it was evident how incredibly different they were, Alice knew she could always count on Beth to just...be there for her when it came to the important things, like family and divorces and such. See, it was moments like these that proved to Alice how important her sister was to her, that reminded her how much they needed each other, that Alice would, quite frankly, be lost without Beth. And maybe she was being a tad over dramatic considering her emotions were all over the place right now, but that didn't make any of this any less true.

"Yeah, of course I'd come back," the brunette insisted, shaking her head a little, as if any other idea was ridiculous. Which it was, because there was no way Alice would have run away permanently. Firstly, it wasn't like she could avoid her family forever since she had to go back to Hogwarts and, although they were in different houses, Beth would have tracked her down eventually. And, secondly, the guilt of leaving Beth behind to deal with all of this would have driven Alice absolutely mad. She wasn't irresponsible and thoughtless enough to do such a thing. Plus, it would have been mighty hypocritical of her to yell at Sirius for abandoning everyone while he mourned Marlene, and then do the exact same thing herself. Alice was a lot of things - a hypocrite wasn't one of them. At least, she tried not to be. Sighing, Alice toed off her flats and climbed further onto Beth's bed, shifting until her back was to the wall and her legs were curled under her, tugging Beth to move with her because she'd never let go of her hand since she'd first grabbed it. Licking her lips, Alice shook her head in denial when Beth insisted she wasn't the stupid one, because she really was. If it had been so obvious to Beth for so long, then why hadn't it been the same for Alice? Had she really been so determined to cling onto the picture-perfect life her parents had created that she had completely failed to see what was below her nose the entire time? What other things in her life had she been utterly blind to? She swallowed and forced herself not to think like that, because it could open up about a dozen boxes of possibilities that Alice wasn't ready to touch just yet.

Biting her lip, Alice simply listened to her little sister talk, staring down at her lap and keeping their fingers intertwined. "I...suppose that's true,"

[/color] Alice whispered thoughtfully. She hadn't really thought of how this might positively affect them. Mostly, she had been thinking how awful it was, that her parents were separated, that they no longer loved each other. But maybe Beth was right. Maybe this would actually be good for them. Sure, she'd thought they were being selfish at first, but wasn't Alice being selfish in wanting them to be together? Especially if they clearly made each other so unhappy that they had had to go and find other people, thus breaking the vows of their marriage. Perhaps this divorce would remove a strain that Alice hadn't even noticed until now on their family. And yeah, she might get a new step mum and/or step dad, and step or half siblings, but would that really so bad? Hell, if Beth could think of things so logically, then why couldn't Alice? Again, that feeling of absolute shame crept over her, flushing her cheeks red and making her feel like an absolute idiot for overreacting. Wasn't she supposed to be the responsible older sister? When did their roles get reversed so thoroughly? "Yeah...I think you're right. Maybe them doing what they really want is just going to make things better. I haven't really been thinking straight."[/color] She smiled a little and looked at Beth, her tone teasing when she spoke next. "When did you get so clever and mature?"[/color] she asked, playfully ruffling her sister's dark hair, even though she knew it would annoy Beth. Still smiling, Alice pulled her foreword and fondly kissed her forehead before letting go of her hand only to wrap her arms around Beth's body and hug her tightly. "Whatever happens, we'll get through it together, okay? I promise not to ever leave like that again. We're in this together,"[/color] she stated firmly. And then she pulled away before Beth could stop complaining about Alice getting overly touchy-feely and emotional. "Let's go out and do something fun,"[/color] she said suddenly, straightening up a little. "We could go shopping! I haven't been shopping in quite a while,"[/color] she mused wistfully. "And we could have lunch together, make a day of it. What do you think?"[/color]


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