effie yaxley (euphemia) wrote in cultureic, @ 2016-05-23 23:06:00 |
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It had been days since Elsie had helped murder the MacFustys and she hadn’t quite stopped looking over her shoulder. It’d been a mix of the exhaustion she’d felt in her bones after hours’ worth of torture and the exhilaration she’d felt when her revenge on Alana — for pulling her hair, for all the insults she’d suffered, for thinking she was better than her, for breathing — had been exacted. It hadn’t quite worn off, but she’d been trying to seem normal. How did one normally act when a coworker they hated was killed by a mob of angry muggles? But she couldn’t dwell on it too long (even if she wasn’t sure the DMLE wouldn’t show up at her door at any minute). She still had work to do. “Ready?” She glanced up at Effie and then down the row of desks nearest Cuffe’s office door. There was no one in sight. There were only a few people around this late at night to begin with. “As I’ll ever be,” Effie sighed, wrinkling her nose. She was not feeling exhilarated. She was, however, feeling a little sick to her stomach. But she was a good friend and Gavin was useless so she hauled herself to her feet before her wrinkled nose could convince Elsie to take back asking her for help. Before Elsie took her chance at Cuffe’s office, she caught Effie’s eye and wrinkled her nose back at her. She knew what she was about to do was kind of gross. That was the point. “All right,” she said, reaching in her desk drawer for the parcel and stuffing it in her pocket. “I need two minutes with no interruptions.” “That’s fine,” Effie said with a breezy wave of her hand. But it was a false show of bravado. She knew what was in the parcel and as it disappeared into Elsie’s pocket, the wrinkles in her nose briefly deepened. After she passed her hand over her nose as if she were scratching an itch and not wiping away her revulsion, she turned on her heel and led the way to Cuffe’s office. If only to put some distance between that parcel and her. Elsie followed closely behind, her eyes still trained on any movement in the office. When they got to his office door, she swept her wand across the lock and listened for a soft click before shouldering her way into the office. Fortunately, most of the wards had been disarmed by the Aurors and the room was already in disarray from their having rifled through it. It was a quick deposit, her memento for Barnabas produced and placed in the middle of a spot on his desk she cleared of rubble. Beneath Alana’s amputated finger, angled just right so the wedding ring caught the gleam of his desk lamp, Elsie pressed the tip of her wand to the wood and burned the inscription. YOU’RE NEXT She only had a moment to survey her handiwork before she slipped out of the room and met Effie’s waiting gaze with a decisive nod. “Now we wait.” Effie merely wrinkled her nose as her eyes slid from Elsie to the finger on Cuffe’s desk. Why were severed fingers becoming a recurring theme in her life? She almost missed the days when it was being rejected by men who were beneath her. At least they’d had all their fingers. Before Effie could force a smile for Elsie’s benefit — the finger was a job well done, after all! — she heard the off-key singing of a janitor that was too caught up in what he was listening to in his earbuds to have spotted them yet. She aimed her wand at one of the office plants and sent the ficus crashing into his path. At the sound of the pot crashing to the floor, Elsie jumped and darted into a vacant cubicle. From inside, she couldn't see the janitor, so she watched Effie’s face for a sign of safety. When the janitor wheeled around to survey the scattered soil and greenery behind him, Effie followed Elsie into the cubicle and reached for her friends hand. She aimed her wand again, this time at the door the janitor had appeared in, and instantly the entire office was filled with the ghastly sounds of a ghost the Daily Prophet was decidedly not haunted by. Then, with a pop that was lost in the janitor’s surprised shout, she apparated them back to hers. Elsie let out a breath she'd been holding for what felt like minutes and glanced over at Effie. A slow smile spread over her mouth as she realized they were safe and hadn't been seen. “Quick thinking there, Eff,” she said, the hints of a relieved laugh at the edges of her voice. “Well,” Effie said breathlessly and with a modest shrug and a smile of her own. Now she was feeling exhilarated. Especially now there was distance between her and that finger. She took a deep breath and swept her hair away from her face. “That was fun! Gross, but fun.” “That can be a good combination,” Elsie said, tilting her head as her grin went impish. They weren’t in her flat but she knew it well enough, so she led the way to the kitchen and called over her shoulder, “I think it’ll pair well with that bottle of firewhiskey I saw earlier!” Effie was still pulling a face at the idea that gross but fun was a good combination. But after a beat, a fond smile came easily as she convinced her feet to follow after Elsie. “Firewhiskey pairs well with everything,” she pointed out as she went for the glasses while Elsie went for the bottle. The glasses were only a formality, though. Severed fingers, she felt, meant going straight for the bottle after a very polite first glass. Cracking the seal on the bottle, Elsie dispensed with the cap and tipped it to slosh liquid into the first glass Effie held out to her. When they each had one, she leaned against the counter and lifted her glass. “To Alana,” she said with a wicked grin. “It was nice of her to lift a finger on this one.” It was still gross, but that didn’t stop Effie from laughing loud and mean as she clinked her glass against Elsie’s. “To Alana,” Effie echoed. “May she rest in pieces!” |