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Feels like just yesterday
Topic Started: May 7 2015, 01:05 AM (109 Views)
Caleb Archer
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Standing in the middle of the spacious master bedroom of the London town house that he shared with his wife, Caleb Archer put his hands on his hips and hung his head in utter defeat. He'd been defeated by a bloody tie from a decade ago. What was his life?

The once tidy bedroom was now in shambles. Dresser drawers were half opened with the odd scrap of clothing were poking out at odd angles. The closet door was wide open and the light inside was enough to reveal the boxes, shoes and clothing that now littered the floor. Even the neatly made bed had suffered a mild whirlwind of destruction. Throw pillows had lived up to their name, while the duvet was hanging off the end of the bed.

He strode back over to the tall dresser by the closet that usually held all of his ties. He reached into the top drawer again and swept his hand over the back of the now empty drawer until his fingers brushed over a scrap of silky material. Caleb pulled it out, triumphant for a solid second until he was able to see it. Then he sighed again. It was a tan paisley bow-tie that he’d worn one year for Halloween. Definitely not the gold and crimson tie that he was looking for. The same one that he’d worn every day throughout seven of the most important years of his life.

It was hard to believe that ten years had passed since graduation. Sometimes it felt like it was just yesterday that they’d all been hanging out in the Great Hall or avoiding prefects by hiding in La Casa. The memories of their time there filled him with warmth and put an instant smile on his face.

There had been more than a few moments in their long friendship when he’d have happily hexed other bros with his own wand, but those were minor in the grand scheme of things. Despite the many annoyances that one encountered in a relationship with guys like Whit, Artie and Carter, there were moments when they were just the blokes you needed on your side. When the chips were down, they had sacrificed everything in an effort to save him.

And there were very few things Caleb knew with absolute certainty in this world but one of them was that those three lads would have his back no matter what. He couldn’t remember his life before Artie, Carte and even Whit had been a part of it, and when they met the girls, it was as though they had found the pieces of their oddball little family that they’d been missing.

Except for Olive.

Caleb had never been missing that particular piece of his family. She was like the disturbingly intelligent robot cousin that every family had. Wait… hmmm, maybe that was a role that only their bizarre little family had. Although the permanently neon green patch of rough skin that he had on the back of his left knee would constantly remind him of her, since the potions she dosed him with were the cause of it.

Yep, he was lucky he survived Hogwarts at all.

Yet he couldn’t help but hold a fondness for the old school. It was there he’d met the love of his life. (and despite Whit’s claims to the contrary, the love of his life was not an obnoxious Yankee bloke with a weird obsession for stuffed teddy bears)

His eyes flicked over to gaze as the framed muggle photo that sat on his bedside table. It was a snapshot taken on the night of Georgie and Carter’s wedding. It was a slightly out of focus shot of he and Penny dancing.

It had been the end of the night and his jacket looked enormous as it hung over Penny’s tiny frame. A canopy of stars dotted the indigo sky above them as they held each other close.Their arms wound around one another and Penny’s slender fingers had absently tangled in the dark curls at the back of Caleb’s neck. A wide grin covered his face as he watched Penny throw her head back and laugh at something he’d said. It was the perfect picture to represent their relationship.

Laughter and love and light. It was everything Penny had brought back into his life in a time when he never thought those things would be possible again.

His friends may be his family but Penny was his everything.

“Pen, hon?” He whined like a petulant teenager. He’d been looking for that damn tie for the better part of an hour and the rest of the group was scheduled to meet up here in twenty minutes. “Do you know where my Gryffindor tie is?”

Glancing around the room, Caleb suddenly realized just what a mess he’d made of their bedroom. It was in that moment that he realized just how quickly the light of his life would end him if she discovered this mess.

And he’d just called her in to see it.

He dove toward the bed to grab his wand which lay on the bedside table. He cast a quick cleaning charm on the room and he heard the click of her heels on the hardwood floor in the hall. A mildly predatory gleam lit his eyes and a sly little grin slid over his face as he lay back on the now neatly made bed. He propped himself up against the pillows and folded his hands behind his head while waited for his beautiful wife to come in.

He may be the best behaved of the Gryffinbros, but he was still a Bro.

And there was at least twenty minutes before the rest of the group arrived.


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Eleanor Bigby
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“No. We are not gender-swapping for the evening.” It was the fifth time that evening, as they were getting ready for their 10th Reunion, that Eleanor had to swipe her heels away from Whit, charm them back to normal-human-sized heels, and change her bronze, lower-thigh-length dress back from bright-pink-and-prostitute length.

“I don’t care how much you pout.” She glanced over her shoulder at her naked except-for-a-long-brunette-wig husband. “And no, you’re not going out like that, either.”

Jesuschrist. It was like she’d taken away his favorite teddy bear. And, Merlin forbid she ever do that again. It’d taken her weeks to get all of the glitter and gum out of her hair. She’d nearly had to chop it all off. And, getting that ostrich out of their bedroom? Pft. It made its permanent home in their kitchen after she’d lured it with Whit’s disgusting American Cheese singles.

Forty minutes of bantering about who made the prettier woman later, and Eleanor had successfully managed to use a sticking charm to Whit’s suit, and an anti-transformation charm to his finally-heelless shoes.

He could wear the damn supermodel hair. Fuck it.

They apparated out of their house, arm in arm, surprisingly smitten with one another. It was the only thing she could say for certain about her marriage to Whit; they drove each other absolutely mad at times, and it only made her love him more. It was ridiculous. All of the late nights with voodoo priests and finding plot holes in horror movies were her favorite times with him. Nights like this, though, where they had to function like actual human beings because they’d be surrounded by actual human beings being human and boring, is where they always found themselves at a crossroads. No, their friends were not the problem. They were quite possibly the only people on the planet who got the crazy ‘Ship O Whittanor, which was why Eleanor was glad everyone was meeting up at Caleb and Penny’s place beforehand.

Maybe they could all talk Whit out of the Beyonce wig.

Probably not, though.

Fuck it.

Bigger fish to fry.

She’d overheard him on the floo with Carter. Something about “a permanent memorial” of their legacy at Hogwarts. Which usually meant explosions. And hefty donations. She needed to get with the girls and warn them. Codeword “The Penises are Flying” was active. All trojans on deck.

The very moment that Eleanor and Whit landed in the Archer Townhouse, she excused herself from her husband’s side and ran into Penny’s outstretched arms. She whispered into Pen’s ear, a quick warning and that Operation No Dick was in order for the evening; a key strategy in making sure the Bros behaved themselves. Penny took off like a shot towards her kitchen, probably grabbing the necessary pieces of equipment that they stored in case of emergency - vials of burn potions, gauze, and a turkey baster (it was the only thing that had saved them the one time that Olive and Carter decided to use skunk DNA to enhance the effects of pheromones put off by the chronically under-attractive.)

While Penny was off, Eleanor feigned the need for the loo. Whit threw his hair over his shoulder and shoo’d her away. She walked around the corner slowly, but once she was out of sight, Eleanor took off like a shot up the stairs, forgetting she was in heels and a dress, and took them three for three.

Her heels clicked on the wood floor as she made her way to the bedroom where Penny had whispered that Caleb would be getting ready. She flung open the door, flush-faced, and panicked. If anyone could stop what was bound to happen tonight, Caleb was their best bet.

“THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I REPEAT, NOT A DRILL.” Her shrill voice went off like a siren before she’d even surveyed the scene. “THE PENISES ARE FLYING.”

And then her eyes found Caleb, resting back on the bed. Startled-eyed and positioned as if he some imminent gratification awaited him on the other side of the door.

“Oh Ew. Ew. Ew.” Eleanor realized that she’d walked in on a Broduction. The act of seducing a girl. A production of the Bros. The girls discussed these tactics at length at least once a month. And there Caleb was, in all his grody, boy glory. Thankfully dressed, but no less caught in the act of trying to act like a boy predator.

“Penis down, Archer. The Trojans are in effect. We must halt the inevitable. Penny’s got the turkey baster. You’re up, Sunshine.” Eleanor strode over to the bed with puffed out chest and squared shoulders, imagining herself to look like a seasoned military general. “No time to waste on the affairs of lust. Operation No Dick is a full-go.”

Eleanor reached into her small clutch and withdrew a small piece of paper. Then she threw it on the bed at Caleb’s hand.

“You’re up. Time to get Georgie and Mia on board.”

And then she turned around as if nothing weird or odd had happened. Marched to the door and before closing it, glanced over her shoulder.

“That message will self-destruct in ten seconds.”

As she made her way calmly down the hallway and back to her husband’s side, there was a sudden explosion and a very clear “fucking hell” from the bedroom.
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Whittaker Jones
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[A/N: this is from Penny's PoV - turns out I haven't actually made her account yet, whoops.]



She cocked her head to the right.

Knocked it back to the left.

Smiled.

Frowned.

Steamy eyes.

Happy eyes.

Sad eyes.

Faked a laugh.

Tossed her hair over her shoulder.

Acted surprised.

Acted angry.

Her nose scrunched—nah. Blue wasn’t cutting it. “Bronze, grab your bat, you’re up,” she informed her reflection in the guest bathroom mirror, taking advantage of its infinitely better lighting to ascertain exactly which chromatic manifestation of Ravenclaw spirit she was going with for the night. With a blink, her bright blue bob morphed into a tumble of bronze curls.

Her face broke into an immediate, satisfied smile—bomb. Looked killer with her deep-V, fitted blue dress. Showed off her tan from Barbados, too. All da boys be jockin’. Georgie was going to be so narked—her burn (because no part of that glorified melanoma exhibit she’d been so proud of was a tan) had faded before the plane had even touched London soil.

Now all Pen needed was the—yep. Blue eyes: check. Throw in a little mascara and she was officially Ravenclaw-ready. Bring it, Hogwarts.

“Peeeeen, hon? Have you seen my Gryffindor tie?”

Her dark gaze took on a glitter of mirth at the familiar tone. Caleb’s ‘Mooooom, did you wash my Quidditch kit? Are there any tater tots? I’m going to be late for school!’ voice. It always delighted her, since with everyone else—the media, co-workers, friends—he was this mature, put together, voice-of-reason Deputy Minister.

With her, he was a disaster. An adorable, well-meaning one, but a disaster all the same.

“I sold it into slavery,” she called back, uncapping the inky black mascara tube and bringing the wand up to her eyelashes. “But don’t worry, I ran a background check, and this Brazilian tie trafficking ring is top-notch.” She blinked a few times to dry the first set before switching to the other eye. “Seriously, it only takes the most qualified ties—I’m talking next-level prestige stats: you’re Head Boy status barely made the cut. I tried to sell them mine and they laughed.” She recapped the mascara and tossed it aside to run a hand through her curls, shaking them up. “And before you get all morality police on me, it’s not like your tie exactly had a choice when it was yours. I highly doubt you asked it if it wanted to be worn, soooo—”

A sudden commotion in the living room drew her attention away from her reflection, and her brow furrowed—someone was early. Mia and Artie, maybe? “Laundry room; ironed it earlier!” she called up to their second floor bedroom as she passed the stairs, emerging into the living room with a puzzled look that quickly broke into a bright grin. “MMM GIRL, yo mama let you DATE?

Eleanor, looking like a beautiful bronze warrior in her cocktail dress and her ridiculously long hair, all but knocked Whit over as she bounded over and pummeled Pen. The petite witch burst out laughing, wrapping her arms around the tall brunette’s shoulders and squeezing her tight—it’d been too long. Whit and Nor were always off blowing up obscure continents or discovering new planets, and while her and Caleb usually got to see them a fair bit, this last stretch had been particularly long.

It scared her, sometimes, how real this ‘adulthood’ thing was starting to get.

“Have you bought a hotel yet because you promised you’d name the top floor the Pen House and I’m holding you to—” her stern voice cut off as Eleanor hissed a tight ‘the penises are flying’ in her ear. Pen’s shoulders immediately straightened, frame pulling back to stare her down. “When?”

Eleanor blinked twice before whirling around and rocketing up the stairs, and Pen immediately took off toward the kitchen. “Missed you, Whittasaurus!” she sang as she flew past him, taking care to give a quick tug on a stray lock of his long black hair in greeting. He predictably ruffled in outrage at the invasion, hands flying up to straighten the damage, and she took advantage of the distraction by slipping into the kitchen, yanking open the freezer, and pushing the bright little panic button hidden in the icebox.

Now every ‘Claw would know they were in Code Red.

She checked the thin, silver watch around her wrist—6:02. Pow-wow had to be 30 minutes after the initial button press, so they’d all have to find a way to meet in the attic at 6:32. She shrugged—shouldn’t be too hard to sneak way. Boys hadn’t seen each other in ages.

Now it was time for her specialty—the vital Pen role that no other ‘Claw could come remotely close to playing.

Keepin’ it cool.

With a toss of her curls and an inescapably Penny sashay in her step, she waltzed back over to the living room and eased against the kitchen’s entryway, sly eyes fixed on Whit. He was standing resolutely in the middle of the room, hands balled into antsy fists, eyeing her expectantly.

“Truth?” she asked, and he rolled his eyes with an implied ‘obviously’. “It’s more Kardashian than Beyoncé.”

What?

“Sorry, duck.”

“This is 100% diva-certified, woke-up-like-dis, who-run-the-world fucking hair how dare you?”

“It’s lookin’ pretty Reality TV from here.”

You look Reality TV!”

“Did you ship it from overseas?”

“Of course—it’s Armenian.”

Penny’s eyes hooded slightly. “Did you know the Kardashians are Armenian?”

I—” his pre-formed, outraged response died on his tongue, replaced by a look of blunt, wide-eyed realization. “Fuck!”

“Nix it.”

“But I—”

“Friends don’t let friends.”

He stared down at the ground like a furious toddler, debating his next move just as Eleanor came floating down the stairs.

“We’re voting Whit’s wig off the island—team stay or team nay?”

A violent explosion and a sharp ‘fucking hell!’ rang from their upstairs bedroom, cutting off Nor’s response, and Pen frowned for a moment, brow furrowed and stare narrowed as she stared up the staircase. Then, with little more than a light shrug and a carefree flip of her hair over her shoulder, sent her guests an easy smile.

“Drinks?”
Edited by Whittaker Jones, May 15 2015, 03:36 AM.
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