May 14, 1892 - Flower Show, Bartonburg

There were flowers everywhere. She wasn’t sure why she expected any less from a flower show, but the amount the Potts family had managed to cram into a tent was impressive; the flowers overflowed nearly all the vases, some plain and some much more exotic, with shimmering petals that felt like silk to the touch. Juniper rubbed the red petals between her fingers before she sighed and turned her attention toward the red roses across the way; the alstroemerias were more exotic, the petals more ombre of red and oranges than solid, yet the red roses appeared more expensive, and wasn’t that what a big part of trying to show off to other upper class families?

She’d seen the extravagant arrangements Grace had ordered on the rare occasion the Edevanes threw something social, and the floral arrangements always had flowers that looked expensive, even if they were ugly. Her stepmother didn't have the most taste when it came to decor, but she knew how to host something grand. June sighed, tired of thinking of all the upcoming balls and parties that were in her future. This was her very last Hogsmeade weekend as a student and damn if she wasn’t going to enjoy it! The blonde moved through the flowers, pausing every so often to touch some of the petals that called to her. Gloriosas were her favorite so far, the petals resembling flames, and she thought she might purchase one for the dorm room before they left.

Finally seeing her friend a row over, Juniper stepped up to next Poppy, her head tilting toward another opening in the tent as she spoke. “The arrangement workshop is about to begin. Want to go with me?” A few other students and faces she didn’t recognize were beginning to find their spots at the tables and she didn’t want to be separated from the brunette. Offering a smile and a wink, she took a few steps away from her as she made her way toward an open table, finding that the supplies they’d need for the workshop had already been placed at each station.

Her fingers brushed against one of the mums they’d be using. Juniper liked flowers. She enjoyed colorful flowers contrary to popular belief that her favorite color was black and she didn’t own any colors outside of that and Slytherin colors. Most of the dresses she’d picked out for her first season were soft, warm colors - a direct parallel to the cooler colors her sister had chosen. (They were banned from wearing anything similar in color lest people confuse them for another.)

“I thought about sending some flowers to Mr. Blackwood, anonymously of course. He’d hate it and I can just picture his face scrunching up as he tried to figure out who would dare do such a thing.” June laughed quietly as she shook her head. She was pretty certain he’d furrow his eyebrows together as he frowned at the vase, offended by the implication that someone had the audacity to send him flowers. But Juniper enjoyed their games - catching him off guard was becoming one of her favorite hobbies.

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Poppy Dashwood

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Having managed to put on a brave front and get over the melodrama about aging this week, Poppy had found herself very excited for the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend, her final break away from Hogwarts. Today was the Potts Flower Show and tomorrow she’d be off to the races! Her cousin Atticus (and his family) were sponsoring the event along with the Blackwoods and it was bound to be quite the exciting endeavor. It had been the talk of the castle all week and Poppy was one of the few, if any students, that had a note written essentially excusing her from curfew this evening. She was going to stay at Foxwood House tonight and then march off first thing in the morning with the rest of her family to the derby. This was Poppy’s final Hogsmeade weekend… ever. At least as a student. As she walked through a massive display of florals, she tried to keep nostalgia at bay. Today, before they parted ways, Poppy wanted to do everything she and June had always done - the traditions they’d started - on these many splendored escapes from the castle grounds.

Pausing just in front of a brilliant display of peonies, Poppy tilted her head to the right just slightly. They were absolutely astounding. Every petal looked as soft as satin. Gathering a few heads between her gloves, the brunette sniffed pillowy blossoms. How she adored peonies. They were a wonderful symbol of bashfulness too, not an ostentatious floral in the least. Mix in a few violets and some baby’s breath, and one had the perfect debutante arrangement: purity, loveliness, and a complete lack of personality. She was lucky enough to have steered her mother from it for her debut ball. Instead, Georgiana Dashwood had latched onto a French blue accent color for the event. It tinged the invitations, the decor, and even some of the linens but for florals, at least, Poppy had managed to convince her mother less was more; they’d decided together that peonies, alone, would do. (Amidst the sea of white, white, purity, white - it was a welcome accessory.)

As a familiar voice chirped just over her shoulder, Poppy turned to see Juniper motion towards another tent.  She nodded and moved to follow the Slytherin towards the workshop. There were a few familiar faces, mostly other students, already milling about. As the two found a space and settled in, she couldn’t help but laugh as she set aside her coin purse. “Send him some orange blossoms,” she quipped playfully. “That’ll really confuse him.” Poppy grinned at her friend, thinking about just how amusing it would be for the man to receive such a gift from an anonymous source. He’d likely preen thinking he had a secret admirer when in reality, coupled with some ivy, orange blossom really just meant eternal friendship.

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Juniper Edevane

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© Fox

June mused for a moment before she laughed, nodding quietly. Orange blossoms, she knew, tended to mean love, although coupled with something conveyed something akin to friendship  - and that was exactly what she wanted to convey to Olixander Blackwood. Their friendship had been quick and she found herself in his company more often than not when she could be; she’d even recently begun to seek him at Hogsmeade even though she knew she’d be disappointed he wasn’t there. But she wasn’t going to voice any of that to Poppy, who seemed suspicious that Juniper was harboring some sort of crush. It wasn’t a crush, just a friendship that crashed over her before she even recognized what had happened.

Instead she turned toward Poppy and winked at her. “Orange blossoms it is. What else can I use to announce to his household our friendship?” She mumbled it more to herself than to the girl as the workshop instructor announced the class was starting, going over a few of the supplies they had in front of them. It was a simple arrangement and while a skill June knew she’d never use, it was something she knew she’d at least enjoy the process of completing.

She wanted for the teacher to finish speaking before she finally turned back toward Poppy. “Are you ready for the derby tomorrow?” She tried changing the topic - she didn’t want to talk about Mr. Blackwood and she hadn’t even owled him that she’d be at the event his family was hosting. “I’m sure Atticus will keep a very stern eye on you although Papa has threatened severe consequences if I try to slip away from him, so I suppose the day won’t be too exciting.” Though the derby itself was exciting - she was going to wear one of the dresses she’d gotten for a future ball, and Alistair had promised to place some bets on her behalf. She had a list of items she was going to purchase with her winnings.

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Poppy Dashwood

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As June settled in and agreed with her suggestion, Poppy couldn’t help but smirk a little bit to herself. She definitely had a suspicion that there was something more than pure friendship going on between Mr. Olixander Blackwood and her friend. June would vehemently deny it until she was blue in the face, but Poppy knew. Oh, Poppy knew.

Letting the other change the subject as they settled in to their arrangements, Poppy eyed the amalgamation of flowers before her. She was going to create a beautiful blue bouquet today. Blue flowers were her favorite but they were always such sad, helpless symbols! At least this arrangement was for her to keep, and she didn’t have to worry about sending anyone the wrong message. Picking up her shears and snipping the tail end off an iris, Poppy hummed a little at June’s statement. “I’m sure he will,” she replied, elegantly. “That said, he owes me some flexibility considering the fright he gave us in the Great Hall!” Poppy couldn’t help but laugh a little at the thought. The mortification of shrieking in the Great Hall and drawing all those eyeballs still sat with her when she thought of that morning. Poppy had yet to actually see her cousin since his little prank, but rest assured when she did later that evening! He would certainly be hearing it.

“I am rather excited overall though,” she continued, putting a long-stemmed hyacinth in its place. “I do so love horses; they’re such elegant creatures. And to think,” she paused to toss June a wistful smile. “This could be a first taste of what our lives will be like upon debut!”

Even as Poppy heard her voice come off excitedly, she knew June would sense the slight trepidation behind her statement. She hadn’t entirely shared with her friends how anxious she was about it all, but she was sure they felt about the same. It would be nice to have the derby tomorrow as a safe space, not yet out, but still peeking from behind the curtain. (And Poppy’s curtain was definitley from behind her cousin Atticus’ coattails.)

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Juniper Edevane

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© Fox

June hummed quietly as she took the shears from Poppy to snipe the ends of the orange blossoms off. She stuck them inside the vase before she began to fiddle with the petals, fluffing them out a bit more. Her arrangement was going to be filled with warmer colors - yellow often meant friendship and she’d use every flower imaginable to convey that. She supposed Mr. Blackwood wouldn’t understand any of it, but the thought was still a nice one. If he didn’t enjoy them, hopefully his mother or another female family member would. She hadn’t ever met a woman who didn’t enjoy receiving flowers - her father had given her and Ophelia a bouquet of roses for their birthday since she could remember.

Then she turned toward her friend and grinned at her. “But it was a funny prank. Not something I would expect from someone as proper as your cousin.” As long as Juniper had known the elder Foxwood, he’d always been proper and angry looking. It hadn’t been until recently that his outer shell had cracked, and she could only ponder if he was beginning to go senial. The blonde shook her head as she dispelled the thought from her head; Poppy would be upset if she knew June was thinking anything remotely like that. “I’m sure he’ll spoil you tomorrow, and you’ll forget all about the confetti.” She joked before she winked at her.

The Slytherin finished fluffing up the petals and she slid another orange blossom next to the first, twisting and turning the stem until she found an angle she liked with the first one she’d put in. She bummed in agreement to the first comment, her fingers falling away from the flowers as Poppy decided this is what their lives will be like. Underneath her words she understood what she meant: the fear of what ifs, the uncertainty of the future. Debuting was going to change things forever.

“Do you think any eligible bachelors would actually approach us at the derby?” She hummed quietly. Her father would level anyone with a glare he didn’t like and Grace wouldn’t be there to tell him that men actually would need to speak to his daughters if he planned on marrying them off. She was good for something June supposed. Atticus would probably do the same, although on a much more subtle level.

She snipped the bottom of a yellow rose off and stuck it between the two flowers already in the vase. Then, frowning at it, she tugged it free. That seemed too obvious for what she was going for. “I don’t know if I’m ready.” June admitted quietly, her eyes flicking over toward her friend. “Though I do think it’ll be nice to be able to meet someone and not have to worry about the implications of being seen, even with a chaperone.” How else would she pass time without Hogwarts?

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Poppy Dashwood

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Poppy laughed her tinkly little laugh at June’s assessment of Atticus. She, like most people, always believed the eldest Foxwood to be so rigid, so strict and frowny all the time. But Poppy knew better. Poppy had plenty of memories, some long past and many recently, that showed only the compassionate, silly, reliable side of Atticus Foxwood. He was, and always would be, her true Knight in Shining Armor. Ducking her head shyly, Poppy couldn’t help but smile. “I suppose he will,” she hummed, easily.

The two sat in companionable silence for a moment, June arranging her blossoms and Poppy clipping more stems. She raised a delicate brow as June asked about eligible bachelors, and tilted her head to the side just so. She supposed she too wasn’t ready to be approached so brazenly as was implied once one was out. Every man that came to speak to her might have intentions, or pretend to have intentions, and she’d never be the wiser. Poppy frowned at the thought. She knew chaperones were useful, but if she was to have any modicum of success, she knew she’d need a helpful, experienced society lady by her side helping decipher the clues. Someone like Aunt Viola, hopefully.

“It will be nice,” she conceded. “I do so hate sneaking around just for a chance to talk to anyone exciting.” Poppy smiled and paused to look at June for a moment. She brought an iris to her nose thoughtfully. “But, I must admit, there is a certain protection in having the chaperone, I suppose. They prevent perfect gentlemen from acting in a decidedly untoward manner with a lady present. Specifically, towards that lady, even if she encourages him unknowingly.” Poppy looked down into the iris she’d just sniffed. They were waffling dangerously close to a topic she had yet to share with Juniper, or Ida for that matter, since New Years.

On the precipice, Poppy wasn’t sure why - exactly - she had kept her most exciting escapade as late to herself. Normally this was exactly the type of thing she ran towards June to blurt out before it faded off into a distant memory. Perhaps it had something to do with that look Mr. Lestrange had given her upon parting, the same look that even now made doxy wings flutter against her stomach lining. Poppy brought a gloved hand to her belly and sucked in a deep breath.

She ought to tell June. She ought to tell someone. Someone that wouldn’t use it against her, of course, as this was largely a reputation ruining secret. For the first time since sitting down, Poppy was glad to be on the end seat of the bench. She had only Juniper to her right and nobody on the left, only the opening of the tent leading further into a new part of the flower show. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

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Juniper Edevane

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© Fox

June laughed quietly as she nodded, taking a moment to glance at her friend from the corner of her eye. Had she met someone exciting sneaking off? Or was it just wishful thinking.? Sometimes Poppy surprised her although she was more likely to be the picture perfect debutant than Juniper was. While she wasn’t quite sure what Poppy was implying, she couldn’t help but allow her mind to drag to the bits she had told her. “Mr. Blackwood was a perfect gentleman when it was just us, and I expect no less from him in the future now that he’s set that standard.” June frowned as she reached forward to weave some ivy around the stems of the flowers. She’d walked away with a virtue she was still assumed to have and Mr. Blackwood hadn’t vanished from her life simply because she hadn’t given him something he hadn’t asked for. If June recalled correctly, he’d even given her a way out of the evening, no strings attached if she had wanted it.

Juniper trusted Olixander to not take advantage of her, especially her propositions, although he took everything in stride when it came to her. That was why she’d call him a friend - he did his best to ensure her safety just as much as Poppy did when they were gearing up for trouble, and in turn she worried about him as much as she did her other friends. His fainting had given her quite the fright and surely she would have been pleased to slip away from him when that occurred, rather than waffling between being late returning to Hogwarts and staying with him  if she had felt he acted untowardly toward her. Mr. Blackwood had been so concerned about her safety the entire evening but outside of the event itself, she hadn’t once felt unsafe tucked into his side.

But June had been tightlipped about most of that night, not wishing to paint her new friend in a bad light to debutants he may wish to court and eventually marry. Who then, did she think was an improper gentleman? Poppy seemed to be uncomfortable.  The blonde pursed her lips together as she set the ivy down on the table, turning in her stool to give Poppy the entirety of her attention. “Miss Dashwood, were you improperly solicited?” June teased quietly, before she leaned closer to her. “Because I can take care of that in a heartbeat.” It was a huge driving factor behind learning the dark arts - she didn’t need someone to protect her. Juniper could do that herself, and if things went right, she could protect the ones she cared about, too.

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Poppy Dashwood

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Oh. Juniper thought she was talking about Mr. Blackwood! Poppy felt her cheeks warm and she refused to look directly at her friend and give herself away. Instead, she nodded appeasingly. “I don’t doubt it,” she replied. “I’ve no doubt even if he did prove less than, you’d put him in his place anyway.” She turned to June then and offered her friend a mischievous grin. Poppy always counted herself lucky to have a friend like Juniper; a friend that she could always rely on to help her out of trouble, even when that trouble was of her own doing. There were so many frivolous ladies out there who pretended at friendship to get close to one’s acquaintances, that it was hard to know who to trust. And worse even, would it be when they debuted.

Poppy felt herself swell with affection towards June. Juniper Edevane was her truest, closest friend. Poppy wanted, so badly, to tell her about that evening. She’d almost done it too, a few weeks ago over Easter break when she’d had a dress fitting. She’d nearly told all to both June and Ida, actually. Whatever had made her hesitate then was still making her doubt now. Poppy tucked another iris into its place and reached for a stem of pretty, cascading little bluebells. She fluffed the flowers a little with her palm and clipped the base. It was then, and only then, that Juniper turned towards her fully and Poppy felt her face heat all over again.

She kept her gaze averted from June as she tucked the bluebell into its place with perhaps more dedication than it required. It was only when her friend mentioned taking care of it for her that Poppy finally turned her gaze onto the blonde. “No,” she said quickly. “I-I mean, thank you. I managed to handle it… alright on my own.” Her face felt warmer than even before and Poppy realized she was admitting her situation to June wether she wanted to or not. Wringing her hands together nervously, she let out a soft breath and decided to just tell June. The worst that could happen was a little judgement, she supposed. But June wouldn't abandon her, surely. “Do you remember… Kristoffer Lestrange?” She started, quietly.

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Juniper Edevane

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© Fox

“I need to start my shrunken head collection sometime.” June smiled and winked at her friend as she watched a mischievous grin spread across Poppy’s lips. She wasn’t sure what she would actually do if Olixander Blackwood were to push past the limits she set up, no matter how flimsy they seemed to be; she was the one who consistently toed the lines he drew and crossed them when she felt the moment was right - it was only a matter of time before he did the same, and she’d have to decide in that moment how she’d react. She hated the idea of being a hypocrite.

But she didn’t want to talk about Mr. Blackwood. He just kept creeping up in conversations like an annoying gnat. The blonde hadn’t even told him she’d be at his family’s event tomorrow as she had no intentions of actually seeing him, choosing instead to focus on spending time with Poppy. This was it for them. They’d spend most of the summer within arms reach but always in conversation with another in hopes of sparking a relationship, and would probably talk mostly of balls and events for the next few years. Hopefully they’d continue to speak of personal things and not just surface level. She loved Poppy more than her own sister (and her brother too, even if she had a soft spot for Redford), and she knew in years to come she’d yearn for the days when her friend was always at her side. They’d have more time for each other once they were married, and  hopefully when the time came their own children would be close in age, to grow up together too.

June’s eyebrows furrowed together as she continued to weave the ivy through the orange blossoms before she paused to turn toward Poppy. They were ugly flowers, the petals too thick and too few. The blonde found herself watching her friend, who seemed much too interested in working a bluebell into a spot than answering a question. She was either embarrassed, thinking or unsure of how she was going to react to the situation. “Of course you did,” Juniper hummed before she smiled, “I would expect no less from you.” None of her friends were doormats, and for that June was grateful for. But Poppy still seemed nervous, and the blonde couldn’t help but frown, wondering what she was hiding. They didn’t keep many secrets from each other.

Pausing, June’s fingers loosened around the ivy as she talked about Kristoffer Lestrange; he’d been a Slytherin alongside her, and while she’d never personally interacted with him much, she recognized the name. “Vaguely. I think he gave me my first detention.” She turned then on the stool to fully face Poppy, the arrangement forgotten for the moment This must be the gentleman she was alluding to, and June raked every event they’d been at together recently, but none of them included him. Questions piled on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them; she’d take what the other gave her, poking and prodding for the details when she felt necessary - she knew Poppy. She’d shut down if June wanted too many details at once.

For once she clamped her mouth shut for her friend to continue.

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Poppy Dashwood

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Poppy looked up into expectant green eyes as Juniper tried to recall the face to a name that had just been plucked from thin air. It wasn’t like any of them walked in the same circles presently, so this name would be strange to mention now. Poppy also wouldn’t be surprised at a grimace if, and when, her friend remembered it. Kristoffer Lestrange was… a brute, by reputation. He was not someone Poppy would have imagined ever finding much of anything in - friendship, trust, amiability - before meeting him over New Years. Or, perhaps, re-meeting him. (She had vague memories of him when he’d been a student, but none of them had been particularly personal or charming.) Still, as Juniper recalled his being the one to give her a first detention, Poppy couldn’t help but laugh lightly and brought a hand up to cover her mouth. If something of a fond look spread over her features, she couldn’t be held accountable.

“Of course he did,” she giggled. It seemed apt, if a little too on the mark. Poppy knew the two of them might butt heads if and when they ever met formally again; they were similar in some ways, Kristoffer and June. Both were strong, confident (perhaps overly so in Kristoffer’s case), independant, and willing to make bargains when it suited them. Not to mention they both liked to get into trouble have fun and Poppy easily peg them as enablers for her, in their own ways. That said, if they didn’t get along famously from the get-go there could be some trouble on the horizon. Shaking these thoughts aside, Poppy sucked in a breath and turned back to her display.

Tugging loose the bluebell she’d rammed in with too much force, the brunette decided to swap it for some greenery. Perhaps she should build the foundation a touch before adding more colors. As she did so, Poppy let the silence carry on as she contemplated how to actually tell June what it was about Kristoffer she wanted to say. She had to say something, now that she’d begun, and if she didn’t start soon she knew she’d be barraged with questions. “Well, yes, so… I came across Mr. Lestrange on accident New Years Eve at the Prewitt’s Gala.” Poppy looked at June out of the corner of her eye. June knew very well that Poppy had been up to no good that evening; she’d gotten quite drunk and had to be escorted home by her dear Atticus when he’d found, chided, and rescued her from herself. Luckily this whole mess she was trying to articulate had all happened much before that, thank Merlin. (Poppy couldn’t imagine how differently her night might have ended if she’d run into Mr. Lestrange after drinking so much.)

“A-anyway,” she continued. “I… spilled my drink all over the both of us after tripping into him gracelessly.” Her face heated at the thought. “And Mr. Lestrange escorted me to the restroom to clean up. It was rather gallant actually.” Here Poppy paused again and decided to try her hand at the bluebells once more. She tucked a stem or two in with care. “Then… well,” her voice dropped even lower, if that was possible, and Poppy’s hands fell away from her bouquet. She sucked in a deep breath and looked back towards June. “He kissed me.” A heartbeat. “And I let him.” Another heartbeat.

There, it was all out in the open.

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Juniper Edevane

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© Fox

Juniper wasn’t sure what to think of Kristoffer Lestrange. She hadn’t thought of him since he’d graduated, although she hadn’t thought of him much when they’d shared a house and common areas - he’d been strict, and she wouldn’t be lying if she said she’d been happy to see him go. There had been far less detentions in her life, and Ophelia had been tormented much more. June couldn’t form an opinion on him simply because she didn’t know him. What she did remember though, were things she didn’t like. Perhaps he’d matured in the odd years he’d been away from Hogwarts.

Snorting softly, The blonde turned her attention back toward the orange blossoms, knowing Poppy would continue speaking when she’d properly thought through the words in her head first; they were white with bright green leaves, and even with the lighter green of ivy, the arrangement was missing something. She plucked a bright yellow rose from the pile and snipped it closed to the petals, before she pressed it down toward one side of the orange blossoms. She repeated the action and placed that rose on the other side - surely it’d be seen once the recipient was searching through the arrangement for a card she had no intentions of signing.

Her lips curved into a smile. Poppy had mentioned she had a troubling New Year’s Eve, ending with Atticus rescuing her, although she had been tight-lipped about what had happened in-between. It made sense now, that it had to do with a boy, even if that boy happened to be Mr. Lestrange. Green hues glanced at her friend before she chuckled softly; Poppy, for how graceful she was, seemed to have rotten luck at just the wrong moments. “How very kind of him.” June tried to keep her voice even, but she couldn’t picture him as someone chivalrous, although it’s not as if she had a much older Mr. Lestrange to compare the tiny bits she did remember. She’d steered clear of him.

Her fingers fumbled around the ivy, spinning the long strand into a heap placed just on top of the roses. It took her a few tries to be pleased with it, and June’s fingers worked a leaf to the left and right before she was satisfied. When she turned to do the other side, Poppy dropped such a hushed bombshell that she wasn’t sure if she’d heard it correctly. She couldn’t picture her friend allowing something like that to happen to her out of the blue; she wasn’t meek nor was she entirely prim and proper as people thought her to be, but she wouldn’t ruin herself for a simple kiss for a boy she didn’t know.

June frowned for a moment before she turned toward Poppy, keeping her own voice hushed. “And did you enjoy it? Did you kiss him back?” The important questions, although from the way her friend had been blushing left and right just talking about it, she had an idea of an answer for both. “One kiss won’t ruin you. Although I won’t be shocked if he comes back for another.”

June turned back toward her own arrangement, suddenly very aware of just how much she related to this. “As long as you don’t give him more, I would still count you as a proper young debutante. We just won’t tell anyone.” This time, June smiled at her. She’d make a pinky promise on it too.

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Poppy Dashwood

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Poppy could practically feel the hesitance in June’s tone as her friend waited for the punchline. When it finally came, the brunette sucked in a small breath and waited for the axe to fall. She didn’t know why telling Juniper made her so nervous; it wasn’t like her friend could ever form too terrible of an opinion, considering the things they’d gotten up to together, but it still made Poppy’s palms sweat uncharacteristically. She tried to focus all her energy onto the dratted bluebells that didn’t seem to want to cooperate until Juniper finally replied.

All at once it seemed like a wave of relief washed over Poppy and the brunette set her flowers aside. She turned towards her friend with a wide, ridiculously giddy grin and nodded. A small giggle bubbled up and out, and Poppy hid her face a touch as warmth bloomed in her cheeks. She didn’t know how explicitly she wanted to share the details of that feeling that the kiss had caused, and how she hadn’t really stopped thinking about it ever since. When Juniper mentioned ruin however Poppy felt her smile fade a touch.

She supposed it was right of her friend to mention as much. It was silly, and dangerous, especially with their debut so close, to be off cavorting with an unknown gentleman unchaperoned. Poppy knew that; she’d lived, breathed, and slept nothing but etiquette - especially these past few weeks as Mama drilled every manner of societal expectation upon her - but she couldn’t help daydream. If there was on fatal flaw the brunette would carry with her through life, it was a penchant to daydream… and sometimes, those dreams managed to get the best of her.

Straightening in her seat, face still warm but this time from embarrassment, Poppy picked up another peony. (Perhaps it would be more accommodating.) She nodded at June gratefully and said nothing more on the matter. Instead, she turned to look at June’ arrangement pointedly. “Your florals are coming along quite nicely,” she complimented. Perhaps June would get the hint and let the subject go, or perhaps not. Either way, Poppy was ready to move on. There was nothing more to say at this stage anyway.

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Juniper Edevane

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© Fox

Poppy turned toward her with such a happiness that instantly, Juniper knew she had to meet Kristoffer Lestrange to see how he really was around her friend. She wasn’t going to voice any opinion on him because she didn’t know him, but she had instantly formed her own thoughts on him. If Poppy hadn’t had her head on straight that night, would she have done something she regretted? The brunette was blushing and she knew somehow, in whatever instance had happened, Poppy Dashwood was downright smitten with the man.

Pursing her lips together as she found no further explanation from Poppy, she grabbed another orange blossom and twisted it in her lap before she turned to face her. She opened her mouth and then promptly shut it. How much did she want to relate to Poppy? It was a secret June had held onto for so long that she wasn’t sure what it would be like to share it. She'd been hurt and anger - two feelings that still lingered, and she wasn't sure would ever go away. Her fingers twisted nervously against the stem of the orange blossom.

“I slept with someone.” June blurted out the words rather quietly as her fingers twisted around the plant harshly enough to snap the bulb from the stem. The blossom fell to their feet but she didn’t take her eyes off her friend. Her stomach coiled and she felt like vomiting - telling Poppy felt like a mistake. Now the words were out there for anyone to have heard and Poppy Dashwood, her best friend in the entire word, had a way to backstab her if she ever chose not. But she knew she wouldn't. “I just… I don’t want you to have regrets like I do, Poppy. That’s all.”

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Poppy Dashwood

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Poppy was quiet as the silence stretched between her query and June’s response. The peony was much more accommodating and, ever so carefully, she tucked into its place. Poppy was satisfied with how it looked there, nestled between a beautiful iris and some greenery. She had just picked up another peony to create symmetry on the other side when her face snapped to Juniper and her mouth fell ever so slightly agape. Had she heard that correctly?

A second or two passed by without Juniper saying anything more and then she sighed, mumbling something about regrets. Poppy instantly placed her peony back down on the bench before them and turned her full attention to Juniper. Her first instinct was to frown protectively. “Was it Mr. Blackwood!” She whispered urgently. “That night that we got you the frumpy dress?” She couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to cavort in something like that, but more to the point - if he had forced Juniper into anything, Poppy was going to take matters into her own hands! She didn’t know what she’d do yet, but certainly something! Olixander Blackwood would rue the day he ever laid a finger (or a hook) on Peter Pan Juniper Edevane.

“Darling Juniper, I will make him swallow his entire hand if he did anything to you!” Poppy snarled, indelicately. It was an uncharacteristically ferocious look on so tiny a girl. “Or worse! Please tell me it was not him!” By now, Poppy was leaning so far towards the blonde in her seat she was nearly whispering in the other girl’s ear. But she was absolutely furious! How dare that vagabond touch her friend! If Poppy had her way, not only would bodily harm come to him but she’d find a way to dastardly ruin his reputation for this. Not involving Juniper of course, but he would never be able to show his face in polite society again! Good thing they we debuting in the coming month so she’d have all the freedom and time in the world to do it!

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Juniper Edevane

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   Juniper Edevane

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© Fox

Juniper loved Poppy with all her heart; they’d been attached at the hip since they met on the Hogwarts Express, and it was hard not to be fiercely protective of each other. So when a beat of silence happened between them and Poppy sighed, June’s heart sank to the pit of her stomach - she had ruined herself and now her best friend wasn’t going to want to associate with her anymore. But instead Poppy seemed to be trying to put two and two together, her thoughts jumping instantly to Olixander Blackwood. Green eyes opened wide, not expecting the words that tumbled from Poppy's mouth.

She opened her mouth to correct her; it wasn’t him. But Poppy continued to get angrier on her behalf, leaning forward until she was practically in her lap. Juniper laughed quietly as she finally shook her head. “Poppy, please don’t make Olixander eat his entire hand. It wasn’t him.” He might have been her second if things hadn’t gone the way they had that night, although the way he constantly called her a child, June wasn’t sure if she would have been able to bat her eyes enough at him to overcome that. “He’s my friend, and I promise if I told him what I’m telling you, that man would be at my feet begging for forgiveness before I could say my name.”  But she needed to correct this before Poppy found him and shoved her wand into his face!

She breathed a sigh. “It happened over the summer, well before I met Mr. Blackwood. I promise I’ll share the details, but not here, please. I just… please, be careful?” June wrapped her arms loosely around her friend.

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Poppy Dashwood

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   Poppy Dashwood

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Poppy had every intention if lighting Olixander Blackwood on fire the next time she laid eyes on him. The slight brunette was still positively fuming at the very thought of anyone accosting her dearest, closest friend! She was about to threaten him again, this time with more aplomb, until Juniper finally managed to get a word in edgewise. Startled, Poppy sat back a touch in her seat. It wasn’t Blackwood? Then it couldn’t have been recent, the brunette mused.

At the confirmation that this tryst had occurred long before and Poppy was only just now hearing of it, the brunette wondered what to think. She didn’t blame June in the slightest for wanting to keep this secret close to her chest. Poppy herself had kept only a simply kiss to herself for months! Still, she was the tiniest bit hurt that Juniper hadn’t trusted her until now; though - to be trusted at all was such an honor that Poppy immediately set her hurt and selfishness aside. She nodded quickly and returned the embrace June offered and gave her a tight squeeze.

“Of course,” she replied into June’s soft head of curls. “And thank you, for trusting me,” she added sheepishly, pulling away. “You must think me silly for being so worked up by a mere kiss now.” Poppy felt a warmth bloom across her face again and she tucked a loose curl behind her ear. The Ravenclaw was dying to know more about Juniper's mystery man, but she refrained from asking anything more. June was right - this very public arrangement class was neither the time nor the place to discuss it. Instead, she reached forward and gave June's hand a small, reassuring squeeze. Whatever their follies, whatever their adventures, they were always in it together. And June could certainly trust her in that.

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Juniper Edevane

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© Fox