Pouring drinks. That was what she was reduced to, after years of hard work. That was all that came of marrying a person she didn’t truly love just because the world expected her to since she had known him for ages, had had a crush on him years ago, and he was rich.

She sat alone, the lighting from the bedside lamp dim and grimy; her heels lay next to her, broken in yet still painful: her tights had a run. Putting on the perfect performance – that was what Sakuno got for marrying the bigoted yet widely celebrated Echizen Ryoma.

Prompt: gravity

Date: 7/25/09

It was a horrible situation, terrible. There was blood everywhere, covering the pavement and the platform, but he didn't notice. All he could do was laugh, a horrible, screeching laugh that pierced through his brain. The gravity of the situation did not even register; the fact that his best friend had jumped in front of a train was not important. Just the way the blood made odd patterns, the way it looked so wrong and yet so right - that was all that mattered.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be worryin’ about that, Auror.” The familiar black smile had returned to Seamus’ face. “See, there’s another reason I got not to be wantin’ to fight from the forest ‘smuch as we can help it.”

There was something ominous there that made Neville’s stomach crawl, and he was almost reluctant to ask. “Why?”

“The trees.”

“Ya mean…” The color drained from Maher’s already-pale face, and he ran his hand over his close-cropped hair nervously. “Jesus, like that thing last year, that movie, the one with the feckin’ queer elves and the little people and them big walkin’, talkin’ tree monsters?”

Neville gave a little bow, then held up his hands with a lopsided smile. “Sorry about that, I know it’s uncomfortable, but it’s the quickest way to get you here. I’d shake your hand, sir, but I’m afraid I’ve got a few things on the mend right now, so if you’ll accept the gesture in theory, I’m Neville Longbottom, Commander of the D.A. as you’ve probably been told, and I’m assuming you’re with the R.I.R.A.”

“Aiden Maher.” He put out his own hand, shaking Neville’s elbow instead with a nod of his own towards the stiffened hands. “I see it weren’t no bally-hoo that ya lot got your arses booted from here to the River Boyne, but I were o’ the impression it were that there Mr. Finnigan what were runnin’ matters.”

“This is a joint operation.” Harry stepped forward now, and Neville’s shoulders tightened as he extended his hand to shake Maher’s with an infuriatingly confident smile. “Harry Potter. Deputy Head of the Ministry of Magic Auror Division. Mr. Longbottom is one of my men…the D.A is something I started a few years back that he did a wonderful job of turning into a sort of paramilitia, but it’s not anything official. I’m here to see that this matter gets resolved before there’s any more unfortunate loss of life, and we’re extremely grateful for your assistance, sir.”