Merlin, I need a drink, Daphne thought to herself as she walked down the street. It had been a long day at work, trying to start laying the groundwork for a benefit she was hoping to throw in order to attract more donations for the organisation, and she'd had no small amount of paperwork for any number of cases to get through, too. And then, to round off what had been an admittedly successful, but ultimately exhausting day, she'd had her weekly therapy session.
She'd been tempted to cancel, but Daphne knew only too well the expression her sister would greet her with when she found out, and that was not something she wished to deal with in the slightest. Ever. She swore that Astoria's disappointed face could make a dragon cry, if she wanted it to.
So rather than skiving off her appointment - and it had been helpful, if draining - Daphne elected to take herself to a trendy little bar on the corner of one of the side roads leading off Diagon Alley. It was a favourite of hers - whilst she loved the Leaky and the Three Broomsticks dearly, she rather fancied a glass of wine and some nibbles, not butterbeer and pub grub.
When she entered the bar, that was precisely what she ordered. "Something white and French please, Dahlia," She told the girl serving, taking a seat at the bar, long legs elegantly crossed. The petite brunette slid it across to her and Daphne returned her smile with a rather more muted one of her own as she handed over the money to pay for her drink.
Dahlia then left to serve another customer, and Daphne sipped her drink quietly, glancing around. It wasn't especially busy, but it was fair from dead either, the gentle murmur of patrons' conversations drifting over the quiet sound of background music. She could feel the tension that had built up over the course of the day easing from her shoulders, and the blonde exhaled slowly, glad to finally find some calm in her otherwise hectic day.
Post by Lucas Hartwell on Jan 28, 2018 5:37:38 GMT
Life had been pretty rough for him the last few months. Well more like the last few years. He had been forced back under the thumb of his father, and just when he thought maybe he had had a chance with the woman he had been harboring a crush on for years, since they were in school, she turned around and threw everything back in his face. He had spent a lot of time missing the freedom he had had in Australia, where no one questioned his place on the team even when he was playing at a super high level, and where Amelia hadn't crushed him just yet. In a world he had found it extremely hard to trust, having the moment you finally trust someone thrown back in your face was just crushing. It had taken him a long time to recover, and even then he was still working on it.
So he had thrown himself full force into the quidditch world. He practice extra on top of the practices for the team. He worked out. It had been paying off for his game, but it was still a lonely life. He was just trying to keep his head down and not anger his father. That was easy enough right? He was just in so much fear that one wrong word or action and he could be off the team and blacklisted from the quidditch world. Then he'd have nothing.
Tonight he just wanted a break from it all. He decided to go to a bar that was decent, and off a side street, so quiet. Not that it matter right now. All he wanted was a drink. The scruffiness that had come from being lazy with a razor kept his identity somewhat underwraps as he walked through the streets. He knew he would need a hair cut and a clean shaven face sooner or later, but for now he appreciated it.
Once in the bar he saw a familiar figure. Daphne Greengrass was one of the very few other people who knew about his history. Knew about his father. But only because she had shared her abuse with him. He had become a patron of her organization, albeit anonymously, as he felt it was a good cause. How could he not with his past. She understood the anonymity. Especially as it would potentially implicate the person who could end his career.
He went over and sat down next to her just as she slowly exhaled. He could tell a tired and stressful exhale when he heard one. "Long week?" he asked before ordering a drink. He was there for the same reason. Plus he didn't like to just drink alone at home. "How are things?" He asked, curious as to how his friend was doing.
"Lucas, hi," Daphne smiled slightly as Lucas slid in to the seat next to her, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek in greeting. She hadn't been expecting company - but, well, she was glad it was Lucas. She didn't feel the need to keep up any pretences with him, play the part of pureblood socialite she'd learned in school.
"You can say that again," Daphne snorted. "Cases, more cases, and starting to plan for a benefit." She paused for a moment, unsure whether to add what had been the cherry on top of the cake, but then again - Lucas knew everything. Had for some time, in fact, when she'd admitted to him the hell she'd gone through as a child. "And then therapy, to round it off nicely," She admitted, wrinkling her nose up slightly. "Which don't get me wrong, it's helpful, but it's exhausting."
"They're busy. Decidedly busy." The blonde answered with another sigh. "But that's always the way of it with this job," She added with a wry smile, before taking another sip of her drink. "How are things with you, anyway? It feels like I haven't seen you in ages."
"Hi Daphne" He said with a smile as she greeted him. She was someone who he didn't have to hide his thoughts and feelings from. Not when she knew about his father. She had shared what she had gone through, so he had felt it only right to share what he had been through. Two pureloods who had been at the mercy of their fathers. They both had the scars to prove it as well.
He listened to her with a little chuckle. It sure did sound busy. Of course that was the world when it came to the foster system. "Another benefit? Didn't you guys just have one?" he asked. He hadn't gone, but she had told him about it. He couldn't risk being seen at the benefit, but she understood that. He took a sip of his freshly delivered drink when she mentioned her therapy. "I could see it being exhausting. I don't go, but it's exhausting when I do have to talk about stuff like that." He hadn't exactly told many people. He could count them all on one hand. But every time he had told someone it had left him exhausted at the memories of it all.
"I suppose there is always some child in need." Even ones that weren't caught by the system or who's torment was hidden. When she asked how things were with him he just shrugged. "You know, just the general busyness of the quidditch team, plus being dragged around by my father to put on a pedestal. All rather tiring." His father controlled his whole life now. It was quite annoying. "It has been ages. Our schedules haven't lined up very well have they?"
"I think I'm always throwing benefits these days," Daphne remarked dryly. "We only get so much funding from the Ministry; I have to make the difference up somewhere."It was exhausting, and her least favourite part of the job - it reminded her too much of the high society balls her parents had thrown, the ones she and Tori had sat at the top of the stairs and watched. They'd always seemed so fake, full of pasted on smiles and 'darling, how have you been' and just horribly, horribly insincere and shallow. Now she was the one throwing them, Daphne could verify that her childhood opinions had been absolutely correct.
"It's more emotionally draining than anything else,"She admitted, idly running her finger around the top of her glass. "A lot of dredging up the past. It's worth it, most of the time, just...not at the end of a busy day,"She smiled slightly, lips twisting up into an approximation of amusement. "I don't envy you that,"Daphne told him, sympathy shining in her grey eyes. "If you ever want to go awol for a bit, I've got a lovely cottage down by the coast, and that's before I get into the holiday homes,"She offered with an easy smile, only half-joking. Lucas was a true friend of hers, and she'd always have her door open for him - whether that door was her flat in London, the cottage in Sennen, or one of the family properties on the continent.
"I blame your training schedule,"Daphne laughed. "I'm always free, you just might have to come fetch me from my office first, you're the one always on the pitch."She was only teasing, of course - they were both busy people, with barely enough time for themselves, let alone other people.
"It's a shame you don't get more funding. It's certainly something that deserves funding." But he knew how it worked. Helping foster children wasn't as catchy a cause as other ones, but it was one that could have a big impact. Of course he hadn't been a foster child, but he knew many foster children came from abusive homes, or suffered abuse at the hands of their foster families. That's why it was a charity he was behind 100%. He just wished he could do more. There was just a fear of what his father would do if he found out. After all, the money being donated to her foundation was money from his quidditch career, which naturally was controlled by his father.
"I can understand that. I don't like doing it at any point of the day, so the fact you do it at all is more than me." Before he had told Amelia several years ago, he had never told anyone what he had gone through as a child. He inherently had trust issues, and a therapist would take ages to earn his trust. "It's so awful. Here's my wonderful son who I raised to be this big time athlete. It's all smoke." The typical pureblood charade, even now. Those events as a child had terrified him. Not because of the interactions with others, though as a quiet kid that was frightening, but because of how his father would react with just one toe out of line.
"Cottage by the coast does sound nice. But, as usual, I'm not exactly able to just say sorry father can't make it." Not when his whole career was dependent on his father. "Maybe in the off season or something." Getting away to a coastal cottage with a few books to reset himself would do wonders for his stress levels. He took a sip of his beverage and chuckled when she blamed him for the lack of time together. "Well I'll have to ask my coach to change the schedule. Clearly I need to have more free time. That'd work right?" He teased her back.
"It is, but there's so many other causes the Ministry sponsors and so much else to funnel their money into, and the budget is only so much. If I petitioned them for more, I'd be taking it from somewhere else - another cause, or a government department, and that wouldn't be fair." Daphne shrugged delicately. It rankled her, sometimes, and when she could she tried to push for more - but they had enough, and her upbringing meant that she was more than capable of wheedling rich purebloods out of money to make up the rest.
"It's far from a fun experience," She told him dryly, sipping her wine. "I don't enjoy it in the slightest, but it does make a difference."She'd stopped having panic attacks so frequently, for one, and her nightmares had gotten better over the years, too. "I'm sorry," She said softly, "I wish I could make it easier for you."
"Well it's yours if you want it," She told him decisively. "Fair warning, the village it's near is tiny and mostly Muggle, but the beach is glorious and perfect conditions for surfing when the weather's good."She'd have to go back herself in the summer for a couple of days, take a break just to feel the sea air on her face again. She hadn't been in some time, and she missed it, missed the water. And the fish and chips, of course.
"Oh, undoubtedly,"The blonde witch laughed. "We should start making more time for each other, though. We could meet up after a match sometime, make a thing of it?" She offered. It had been a while since she'd seen her friend play - though she'd rather gone off Puddlemere, knowing what the team's owner was capable of.
"There are some causes that could survive with a small budget cut. But it certainly would need to be distributed evenly to be fair." He nodded. It has hard, as there were a lot of worthy causes out there. Even he donated to several different organizations. He just wished there was a better way to go about allocating funds across several organizations. Especially when he was sure there were some places money was going that didn't necessarily need the money.
"I suppose it helps get those emotions out." He found these sorts of meet ups more therapeutic than talking to a stranger, but he also didn't have many people he was super close with. He had only told Daphne because she had told him first. Yet here he was hiding most of who he was. "It's nothing I'm not used to. He used to drag me to those things when I was a child as well." Of course he had. They were purebloods after all, and ones with money on top of that. Lucas had hated every second of it.
At the description of the cottage he smiled. "Sounds fantastic. Just the place to get away to then." No one would know who he was in a small Muggle town. He could escape from all of this. "Haven't been surfing since I left Australia either. Would be nice to do that again." His place in Australia had been overlooking the ocean. He missed it. It had been so calming and soothing. Staying there would have been ideal. The only good thing that had come out of coming back to the UK was that night with Evans, but even that had ended on a bad note.
"Well you know our schedule. We could certainly meet after a match, grab dinner or just grab a drink." He'd have to be a little careful with that. Being seen time after time with a woman could probably lead to quite a few rumors. They weren't that easy to get rid of either.
