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Eileen kisses Euphemia’s sweet, cherry red-painted lips. They’re in the broom closet– body’s pressed together, hands intertangled in black and brown hair. Fingers scrape and pull and take, and both girls pant into each other’s mouths.
She lifts her leg, enough to press a thigh against Euhpehmia’s crotch. Phemia moans wantonly, rutting her hips down. Eileen grins into her mouth, lowering her arms to guide the Gryffindor’s hips.
“Linnie, fuck. Lin.” Eileen warms. Euphemia was the only one to give her a nickname, the only one allowed to, in Eileen’s eyes. The other pureblooded lot were nothing, not to Eileen. The only one that mattered was Euphemia, her Phemia.
Euphemia sneaks a hand down to grind her palm against Eileen’s clit, and she bucks her hips and gasps in response. Eileen moves her lips to mouth at Euphemia’s neck and jaw, Phemia tilting her head back to expose the length of her neck.
The room is dark and humid from their body heat, and Eileen feels some of her hair sticking to her nape. Her eyelashes flutter as Euphemia suddenly pushes her leg away, and shoves closer.
“My turn.”
Eupehmia’s own thigh tucks in between Eileen’s, who gasps, her breath stuttering.
“Phemia, please, please. Please–” Eileen groans quietly, Phemia swallowing the sounds with a kiss. Eileen pulls away to pant, taking deep gulps of air. “Phemia, I love you. I love you, I love you, Iloveyou..” Phemia doesn’t respond, but Eileen feels her grin from where she’s sucking love bites into Eileen’s skin.
After they’ve redressed and fixed their dishevelled appearance, Euphemia exits first. Eileen leaves a few minutes later, waiting impatiently for the time to pass.
When she exits, her eyes find Euphemia’s figure easily, so used to looking for her. She’s leaning against Fleamont Potter, her shoulders shaking with laughter as she paws at the taller boy's chest.
Eileen’s heart clenches, and she sets her jaw. They were betrothed, and Eileen hated it, almost as much as she loathed Potter himself. He was popular and good-natured and so very Gryffindor , it was almost sickening. He was chaser for the quidditch team, and a good one at that. He was tall and handsome in a boy-next-door type of way, and he was everything Eileen wasn’t.
Eileen was a Prince, a noble and high house, akin to the Black’s. They were uptight and poised, and definitely not the carefree type of family– so unlike Potter. Eileen’s features were pointy and aristocratic, her dark velvety hair a curtain of shadows. Potter’s hair was a honey-dew brown, and his eyes and nose were round, so full of life.
Sometimes she wondered what Phemia even saw in her, when she was well on her way to becoming Lady Potter. Of course, Eileen wasn’t foolish. She knew , when the time came? Phemia would choose Potter over Eileen. She knew and it yet–
“Phemia?” Eileen took an aborted step forward, her hand going limp from where it stretched out, reaching for Euphemia. Euphemia moved wholly behind Potter– Bloody Fleamonth Potter, who was puffing up his chest and baring his teeth, clearly looking to be the hero.
“Leave my fiance alone, Prince.” Eileen ignored him, her gaze trained on the few whisps of brown hair that she could still see from behind Potter.
“Phemia? Please.” She knows her voice sounds broken, but she pays it no mind. There’s no one around to hear it anyways. Only Euphemia, Potter, and herself.
“Seriously, sod off.” Potter glares hard ad Eileen, and she finds herself glaring back, just as ferociously.
“Shut the fuck up, Potter. Nobody fucking asked you, bloody hell,” She switches her gaze back to Euphemia, her eyes softening. “I told you! We could run away together. You could be mine, and I’d take care of you. You could be Lady Prince–” Potter’s face turns stormy with anger, and he advances on Eileen. Eileen catches a glimpse of Euphemia as she turns away, giving Eileen and Potter her back. Eileen throws the girl a desperate look, but it goes ignored.
She’s expecting the punch, but it still hurts. Potter’s fists fly across her face, landing on her cheek with a sickening crack . Eileen’s head snacks back, and she hisses.
As she looks back at Potter, whose gaze is flickering between his fist and Eileen uncertainty, something in her snaps. She jumps on him, throwing her fist into his face. He falls back with the weight of her body, and they both go down. He grunts as his back hits the floor, but Eileen ignores it.
Her fists are a blur as she lands hit after hit on Potter’s face, his arms coming up to try and block her attack, and she only realises after the fight that her hands were blurred because of the tears in her eyes. Their wands, having rolled away ages ago, lay forgotten to the side.
Potter tries kicking her off, but Eileen knees his crotch and he’s quick to curl up. Eileen rolls off to the side, letting him curl up, before she stands on shaky legs and begins kicking his ribs as hard she can.
Suddenly there are hands grasping her shoulders, and she’s yanked backwards. She spins around– only to freeze as she makes eye contact with a terrified Euphemia. “I–” Euphemia cuts her off, pressing a hand to Eileen’s mouth.
Euphemia gives Eileen a broken look, and Eileen’s legs nearly give out. Euphemia leans forward and presses a salty kiss to Eileen’s mouth, before side-stepping her and moving to attend to Potter.
Eileen watches on silently for a moment, before turning and stocking away. This wasn’t a battle she would win, not now, not ever. Not with Potter in the running. Not with Eupehmia’s dedication to her family.
When the news hits Hogwarts, everybody is shocked. When the news hits high society, everyone sneers. Eileen Prince has run off, dropping out of Hogwarts to marry some muggle man. It was scandalous, it was wrong, it was incredibly sudden. Part of Eileen hopes the news will break Euphemia’s heart, but the other part of her, the kinder and softer part, cultivated by Euphemia herself, hopes that her lover finds peace with Potter.
Eileen herself does not find peace. But, even as she covers her bruises and cleans up after Tobias.. Even as she mends Severus’s clothes again and again, never able to afford anything new. Even as she takes her little boy to Diagon Alley, and curtains her face with her hair so nobody will recognize her.
Eileen is satisfied.