Harper Baddock 23. BDK Hotels Owner/Heiress. Ravenclaw Alumna. Featured in Transfiguration Today
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Latest Posts by the-harperbaddock - Page 2
The piercing dichotomy of wanting to socialize and be part of society, while also wanting to disassociate yourself from people and all the chaos in the world.
23 and Me //
Waking up and turning 23, Harper really didn’t feel much different than she had the night before. Which wasn’t a complaint, per se. But some silly little bit of hope inside her still gleamed… Maybe she would wake up and the mere act of turning another year older would just make something click into place; maybe she would finally have the answers instead of searching for them whilst pretending she already had them.
Part of her wanted to go out and celebrate; she craved the rare moment of letting herself be the center of attention. Harper was all too familiar with this conundrum. She tried to celebrate as normal, or at least as close to normal as could be, for the year or two after her parents passed. Not her best idea, though she was loath to admit it. The whole thing left Harper a whirlwind of emotions, and she spent the following couple of days holed up by herself in her apartment.
So after a few years of downplaying and minimizing the day, Harper decided that this year she would take a different approach. She’d let it be known that she’d be out and about for brunch and some shopping, and see where the day took her. No expectations of anything or for anyone besides herself.
Strolling through Diagon Alley, wearing one of her favorite summer outfits and reveling in the sound of her shoes clicking on cobblestone, Harper slowed as she approached Flourish and Blotts. She raised a brow and pursed her lips in thought. She was about to estimate how much time she could spend in the store before she’d have to drag herself away in order to get to brunch, before again realizing her only restriction today was, well, herself. She didn’t feel hungry yet, so deciding that food could wait, Harper entered the store and took a deep breath in, appreciating the smell of books and stationery.
safiyeece:
-
“Yes, it simply must be!” Safiye simpered along with Harper, then rolled her eyes again. “Nevermind that exponential growth is fundamentally unsustainable.” It was always like this with Safiye, swift shifting between shallow swimming and deeper waters. She was by necessity comfortable with surface interactions, but she craved greater stimulation. Usually, she ignored the urge, pushing it down until it was little more than a vague irritation, but she didn’t go to the same trouble to appear Proper when it was just her and Harper.
For a moment, Safiye allowed herself to imagine it. Her hand went to the watch in her pocket and she traced its outline as she pictured seeing the world with Harper at her side, showing her friend around Istanbul, even reconnecting with Dilara. But the memory of her fallen cousin pushed Safiye out of her reverie and she shook her head. They could, technically, but at what cost?
“Oh, but think of all of the Society we would miss.” The joke came out thin and dry. Safiye knew all too well that neither she nor Harper would truly miss the society they’d grown up in. Sometimes she craved a lack of it, and though they danced around the subject, never openly addressing it, she had a feeling Harper did as well. The truth of it was like the sun, easier to look at through the corner of an eye rather than directly.
Safiye took the offered menu and perused it eagerly, happy to follow Harper’s plan away from the ‘sad wine-tipsy road.’ Her eyes went immediately to the cocktail Harper mentioned, gin mixed with black tea and a ginger simple syrup poured over muddled plum. It combined several of Safiye’s favorite flavors and was something she’d mentioned to Harper on more than one occasion. It was touching that Harper had remembered to include it this season, and the kind of silent gift that their friendship was built on. “Well, if you have that, then I don’t need to look at the menu.” Safiye smiled as she handed the menu back to Harper.
-
Harper internally felt a surge of pride in herself as she took in Safiye’s response to the drink. She thrived on positive feedback as it was, but coming from Safiye it hit a different chord. It felt so genuine and natural; she knew Safiye wasn’t looking to gain something from her, she had just made her friend happy. And in a world where Harper knew that was a struggle for both of them, she was honored.
They didn’t often discuss it, their feelings about their respective situations. It was clear that there was more beneath the surface that neither friend could or would discuss, but part of what made their friendship so special was their understanding and respect of those boundaries; their shared ability to catch each other’s drifts in spite of things left out. It was this same understanding that guided Harper to drop the joke. If it were anyone else, she probably would have continued in order to keep her guard up and her edge intact. Truth be told, she also had the feeling that if she tried, her voice would crack or some other tell would show itself.
Unsure of what more she actually wanted to drink, herself, Harper pondered the menu. She let out a soft laugh. “You know, considering the role I had in shaping this menu, you’d think I’d have an easier time picking something,” she mused aloud. Truth be told, beyond Safiye’s drink, she could barely remember what they’d actually selected for this menu.
The summer was difficult for Harper. Between the memories of graduation, and then her parents, plus her birthday thrown in there too, the early part of summer especially tended to be blurry and hard to focus on. For one or two years after her parents passing, Harper attempted to actively deal with both, which just resulted in whiplash and guilt. She’d considered trying again this year, but ultimately hadn’t decided for sure.
Settling on an elderflower cocktail for herself, Harper sent word down to the kitchen and bar to deliver a couple of their chosen drinks along with some sweet biscuits up to her suite.
You’re so calm and quiet, you never say. But there are things inside you. I see them sometimes, hiding in your eyes.
Tracy Chevalier, Girl with a Pearl Earring (via roseir)
Drinks and Distractions // Harper and Ava
Harper closed her notebook and shuffled her papers into a pile before locking them all in the desk drawer of one of her office suites. Glancing at her watch, she let out a sigh as she wondered where the evening had gone. Hadn’t it just been half six? She knew she hadn’t been working quite so effectively this afternoon, but Harper really didn’t mind as she had been burying herself in busywork; she’d done too well it seemed, as she’d intended to head out a couple hours back.
She stood up, shaking her hair out before pressing her index fingers into her temples, massaging them slightly. She headed to the dressing table and mirror, where a smaller version of her makeup collection lived; Harper’s eyes wandered over the various items, ultimately opting to refresh her eye makeup, adding some sparkle to her lids, along with eyeliner and mascara. She swiped on some fresh lipstick before giving herself a once over, and grabbing her small purse from inside the larger bag by her desk on her way out.
Deciding on the path of least resistance, she headed downstairs to the hotel’s bar. It was typically decently populated on any given night, even more so because it was a Friday. Harper took pride in the fact that there was a diverse crowd; middle and upper-middle-aged professionals, singles and couples of various ages and stages, groups of young partiers bar-hopping.
As she approached the crowd, Harper scanned it for any familiar faces, perking up when she spotted Ava Avery across the room. Harper didn’t know her too well, but the girls sometimes ran into each other on nights out, and tended to share some casual company and chit-chat when they did. Noticing that Ava seemed to be alone, Harper expertly navigated her way through the room, arriving next to her and trying to grab her attention without startling the woman, “Ava, hey” she started with a soft smile.
@ava-avery
lilyeliora:
Lily found herself wondering what kind of sad, lonely childhood didn’t have any animals in it. True, the Evans’ budget had always been a little too tight for Lily to have all the pets she wanted, but that had never stopped Lily from befriending every stray that crossed her path, even if just for a day. She couldn’t imagine not having that history of little interactions that had always made Lily’s day. Hopefully the other woman had siblings, and lots of friends.
Lily made her way into Magical Menagerie with confidence, greeting the shopkeep by name with a friendly smile. “Don’t worry about it,” she assured Harper, “Finding the right pet is a process, and sometimes it takes a while, we’ll just feel it out.” Despite her words, Lily made it her own private mission to find a pet for Harper. The other woman seemed kind, if a little guarded, like the exact kind of person who needed a warm, friendly animal in their life.
“So, have you thought at all about what kind of pet you want? Something small or large, something aloof or friendly, something to come to work with you or wait patiently at home?” Lily peppered Harper with questions as she led her to the back corner of the shop, away from the cute kittens and the glossy puppies. They stopped near the rescues, older pets who’d already had owners, for good or ill. It might have been a risky move, to take someone who’d never had a pet to the rescues, but Lily thought an older pet would be better for Harper. Besides, maybe a pet in need of healing would help Harper herself heal from whatever wounds left her so unsure of herself.
-
After the picnic incident of her toddler years, Harper’s childhood desire to go wander around outside alone, often what lead to children finding stray animals, was nonexistent. It wasn’t a conscious decision she made, but it showed itself in some ways even still. Going around in a city? Fine with her, even in a city she wasn’t all too familiar with. Anywhere more country-like, and Harper either arranged for accompaniment, or a conflict (where someone else would be sent in her place).
She noted Lily’s familiarity both with the staff and the layout of the shop, and it put her further at ease. She was truly touched by how the younger woman had seemingly taken it upon herself to help her find a pet, with no evident ulterior motive.
Lily began asking her questions about what she was looking for, and Harper realized she didn’t have much in the way of answers. “A dog or a cat, I think” she began, “And probably one that can stay at home while I work,” Harper paused in consideration, as the thought of having an animal around whichever hotel, suite, or office she found herself in crossed her mind. It was enough to make her amend her statement. “Although that could change with the right fit. Same thing with size, I suppose.” She chuckled softly to herself as she imagined walking into various hotels and meetings with a large dog or long-haired cat.
As they passed the puppies and kittens, Harper let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. They were all shades of precious and adorable, but she could feel the energy radiating off of them and was exhausted by the thought of taking one home.
Arriving at the back corner of the shop, Harper was impressed to see the number of animals they had that seemed to be rescues, or at least older than kitten/puppy age. While she was overwhelmed by the experience, she would rather have more options than fewer.
Feeling brave, Harper took a step forward, “Alright then, let’s meet some animals,” she said, almost not recognizing the excitement in her voice. She walked tentatively towards a large dog with a shiny chestnut coat, and reached her hand out for him to sniff… instinctively jumping back when he gave a low growl. Harper wasn’t sure exactly what she was expecting, but she knew that was not it.
fabianprewtt:
“Hey…” Soft footfalls stopped, grounding Fabian in an indecisive stance. Not quite an uncomfortable one - maybe slightly - but one more of trying to avoid intrusion yet acknowledge Harper once she had spoken. If the actual location wasn’t indicating wanting solitude enough, Harper’s book and black clothes seemed like bright, blaring signals that she might want to be left alone. Yet, she had spoken, and thus Fabian had stopped.
She was a fellow Ravenclaw. They had lived together for years in that tower. She wasn’t a stranger - or, well, adulthood perhaps had made them that, but still. Not a complete stranger. Fabian considered what more to say, not a loss of words per se, but trying to feel what would be the best course - asking how she was seemed quite pointless, catching up unfitting, unless Harper led the conversation there. It ended with him gesturing softly at Harper’s book.
“What are you reading?”
-
If, when she looked up, it had just been some unknown passerby, Harper likely would have returned to her book, doubling down on her oblivion and indifference to the outside world. But when she recognized Fabian, she felt compelled at least say a little something. The thought that maybe now, of all times, the networking instinct was kicking in, almost made her chuckle with its absurdity.
They hadn’t spoken often since their last night at Hogwarts. A night that was supposed to be a whirlwind of joy and excitement, with some other understandably mixed emotions thrown in, ultimately ended up a night marked, for Harper, by shockwaves and tear stains. Sometimes it felt like the past five years had been centuries, other times, just a few months. Seeing Fabian made it feel quicker; it brought back fond memories of late nights in Ravenclaw Tower, talking, studying, hanging around.
“Pride and Prejudice” Harper answered sheepishly, eyes darting from the cover of her book back to Fabian. “I’m not usually one for romance novels,” she explained, “but a friend suggested I give one a try… and this—“ she hesitated, thumbing through the pages, “this was my mother’s copy.” Harper could have stopped sharing after that, instead continued on. “I guess now felt as fitting as ever to give it a try,” she mused, gesturing towards the elegant headstone to her left. It was sizable without being tacky, and clearly the pair of the one to her right.
“So, how about you?” Harper asked, before realizing her mistake, “I mean, how are you doing? Not what are you reading… Unless that’s what you want to answer. I mean—” she put a hand to her face, mortified at tripping over her own words this way.
safiyeece:
As the closest friend Safiye had, Harper saw more of her than anyone else, more of her humor and more of her frustration. It was always a relief when she could sip wine with Harper and mock the more farcical aspects of her life. Somehow it was never depressing to think about the more frustrating parts of her life with Safiye was with Harper like it was when she was alone. The other woman’s presence, and her understanding was everything to Safiye.
She listened to Harper’s story with increasingly wide eyes, enjoying the show as Harper reenacted the whole episode from her day. Safiye shook her head at a few key moments in the story, just enough to keep Harper going, and when they finally reached the story’s conclusion Safiye threw her head back and laughed. It was the perfect vignette to make Safiye feel better about her own life. The absurdity of the whole situation belonged in the most elite pureblood parlor, shared by the women who truly did believe that the whole world, right down to the flowers, should bow to their whims and tastes.
When Harper asked about the meeting she’d attended, Safiye rolled her eyes and took a fortifying drink of wine. Then, she sat up straight in her most perfect Pureblood Princess posture. “Oh yes, we were very productive. First, we spent a good hour congratulating ourselves on just how simply wonderful our last event was, and yet after all that time I’m still not sure what exactly the event was, other than exquisite. We wrapped up the meeting by bemoaning the upcoming auction for the Society for the Upkeep of Wizarding Historical Artifacts and how we cannot possibly hope to outdo Marya Warrington at our next event.” Safiye settled back against the sofa and sighed. “So it was precisely the usual.”
-
“Oh how lovely!” Harper enthused, honeyed voice and widened eyes. “Every event simply must be more exquisite than the last!” she let out an un-ladylike snicker, interrupting her impression. She was glad that she could make Safiye laugh; she hated to see her friend so tense and frustrated. Besides, when they exchanged their ridiculous stories and encounters, it allowed Harper to forget about the tension that typically filled the cracks of her everyday life.
And as much as she did enjoy her alone time, she was getting quite lonely. That just made her value the time spent with Safiye even more.
“Technically we could do it, you know,” Harper started, knowing full well that neither of them could actually do what she was about to say.
“We could just pick up for a while and get away from here; galavanting around beautiful and exciting places, meeting new people, doing daring things. You could write your poetry and fall in love; I could…” she trailed off, not sure how she even intended to end her statement. She turned to look at Safiye and shrugged. They sat in a comfortable, if not slightly wistful, silence for a few moments. Harper looked down at her hands, fiddling with the rings on her fingers.
She finished the last of the wine, and, determined to keep the night going and spirits up, looked back to Safiye, her lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “I’m not getting stuck down the sad wine-tipsy road. Not tonight. We need some more fun” With a renewed determination, Harper summoned the drink and dessert menus over to them. “Take your pick,” she told Safiye as she passed one to her. “And you should know that I made sure we put that plum drink you like so much back on this season’s menu”
antonin-whoisleft:
Antonin kept his mouth shut when he heard the grand doors of Malfoy Manor open and close from the parlor down the hall. He didn’t not like being there, though that had nothing to do with the manor so much as it had to do with Malfoy himself. The pair of them had never quite gotten along, too similar in their ambitions and dissimilar in their means of achieving their goals; but Antonin was nothing if not a loyal member of Lord Voldemort’s army, and he went where he was told to go.
Besides, getting to enjoy a glass of hideously expensive scotch while he waited for his contact to arrive was a bonus. The Malfoy house elf had scampered up to him with it, one ice cube perfectly chilled inside, and he’d been left to his own devices while some of his comrades went over their own mission plans a few doors down.
It was a respectable place to call a safe house, that much was for sure. As long as they all staggered their exits, disapparating or floo or otherwise, it was nearly impossible to draw attention to the place. It was too out in the open, too obvious, too… belonging to a powerful family. It really was perfect.
The doors opening was a sign as good as any that his contact had arrived; she would be the only one using the doors that day, most likely. Malfoy had arranged some ridiculous measures for anyone not pureblood to enter his house, he was sure it would be abandoned once it was clear having their few halfblood comrades walking up visibly to his manor might cause a bit of a curious stare from anyone looking too hard.
“Harper Baddock, yes?” He asked, voice smooth and welcoming, standing now in the doorway and watching the woman with his curious, perhaps a bit unsettling, large green eyes. “Lovely room, isn’t it? Lot of blondes, though.”
-
“Indeed” Harper replied, matching the smoothness of Antonin’s tone, answering his questions and comment in one word. While she wanted to make a wise-crack about what would happen should a Malfoy child be anything but blonde, Harper knew this was certainly not the place, and was still unsure enough about the company to do so. “You must be Antonin,” she stated, rather than asked, with a slight lift of her chin.
Antonin, she had already gathered, was a young man with an edge; Death Eater associations and beliefs aside. There was something about him that wrenched her stomach a bit, but she could not yet put a finger on what it was. Large eyes often gave an innocent appearance, but in Antonin’s case, the trait that came to Harper’s mind was snake-like. She hoped that she could charm him enough to end up at least on his neutral-to-positive side.
“I’d ask what else is going on around here, maybe even try to get the grand tour… but I doubt that I’d be shown or told much, or that it would even be well-received” Harper quipped, though internally unsure how much of her comment was actually in jest. She moved to focus on the business matters before she could dwell too much on her own words.
“Obviously, I have all the paperwork I was to bring. I’m sure you’ll find everything in order. I can take you through it, if you’d like,” Harper continued, gesturing to the couch and table towards the center of the room. “Or we could just chat…” she offered tentatively. “I guess getting the short end of the stick and having to meet with me isn’t so bad, considering you get a nice drink out of it,” she remarked, her eyes flicking from his face to the glass in his hand.
geraldine-whoisleft:
Geraldine put in admirable efforts training her dogs. On the whole, the three of them listened and behaved well, but the moment one of them realized they were going somewhere exciting, it all fell apart.
The back of the shop? Angels. The second the pet store came into sight? Complete and utter chaos. She had no idea how they did it, but they were definitely in cahoots. She was being pulled along now far more than she was leading, driven by three dogs who could smell treats and socialization. It was a state truly only beat out by the dog park and the “W word”. Walks. She couldn’t believe they had her thinking it now, too.
“Wait,” she cautioned. It slowed Ignatia which meant Levina was soon to follow, but Cornelius was still barreling ahead. He saw Harper before she did, and all hopes were lost. She shook her head and walked up to where her husky was very much intruding.
“I’m sorry they’re in your way,” Geraldine replied. All three of them were sniffing at her now, like she might be the source of bonus treats along with the cashier. “They always get a bit excited by the pet store.” She gave Ignatia, ever patient and sitting by her side now, a fond pet. “Why are you here? Did you finally cave and get your own?”
-
If it were any other large dog, let alone trio of large dogs, running up to her, Harper would panic. But Ignatia, Levina, and Cornelius weren’t just any trio; they were Geraldine’s. So despite the fact that she was still sometimes hesitant about how to handle them, Harper had a sense of familiarity and even fondness for her friend’s dogs. “These three?” Harper laughed, “In my way?” she shook her head. “They could never. I just wish I had the treats they're looking for.” She held out her empty hands to the dogs, as if to show that she had nothing. To make it up to them, she took a turn providing each with pets and scratches behind the ears, her eyes softening as the dogs basked in the attention.
“As for caving and getting one of my own, I haven’t… yet… but I think I might be getting close,” she hinted, the corners of her mouth turning up into a smile, “just a couple more window shopping visits and maybe I’ll actually make a foray inside the shop.” Harper chuckled at herself and the upturned corners gave way to a genuine grin, an increasingly rare occurrence over the past few years, directed at Geraldine.
“So, are you a woman on a mission right now, or just trying to get some air and exercise?” Harper asked, “If it’s the latter I’d be happy to join you for a walk, if you have the time, of course”
Laying Flowers //
Harper had created a tradition for herself that she followed every year on the anniversary of her parents passing. They— She — still owned the house she grew up in. She didn’t spend much time there after the summer they passed, but she wasn’t looking to let go of it, either. Besides, it wasn’t like they— SHE— couldn’t afford it. She was constantly still referring to her family in terms of “they” rather than “she,” even though for five years now it had just been, well, She. It wasn’t denial, it was just discomfort and force of habit.
So the house was where she went. She arrived there the night before, with a bottle or two of her parents’ favorite wine in tow, and stayed over. She cooked for herself, read, watched some old movies, looked through old albums. That night and the following day were the only times she permitted herself to cry. On that next day Harper would lie low, largely continuing the previous night’s activities, before heading to the cemetery where her parents were buried. She’d spend some time there; talking to them, doing some more reading and maybe even writing a bit, and laying flowers. Then she would return to the house, get take out or delivery for dinner, and spend the night again before heading out in the morning.
This was a very solitary experience for Harper, but that didn’t stop her from maintaining a certain appearance, specifically for her time at the graveyard. In fact, she considered it to be very much tied in as a part of her ritual. Waterproof makeup was a must, as was an elegant black outfit… Even though afterwards it was promptly shoved into a designated corner of Harper’s closet. The main facets of this year’s look were nude lipstick and a slightly flow-y black chiffon dress. She was in the midst of reading her book, enjoying the warm summer breeze on her skin, when she looked up, startled, at the rustle of approaching footsteps on the grass.
“Oh… hey,” she said softly, feeling caught off-guard and distant, but hoping that her waterproof eye-makeup made good on its claims.
Art museums, fancy restaurants with an outdoor sitting, satin silk dresses, perfume, wine glasses and pretty views.
Five Years Later
Harper wasn’t one to talk much about her parents or their passing. It sometimes came up in business, but thankfully most people knew better. Mostly through common courtesy, though a rare few because they knew her. These past five years were supposed to be some of the happiest years of her life, beginning with with graduation from Hogwarts, and consisting of living it up and making the most of the rest of her young adulthood. But instead, they became the most stressful and lonely.
At the time, the summer of 1973 seemed to both drag on and fly by; but looking back, it was more fuzzy than anything.
Planning a funeral was hard to begin with. Planning a joint funeral? For your parents (who died the night of your graduation)? While also taking over their hotel empire and handling all of the complications that come along with it? Despite not even being 18 yet?
For most, it would be impossible, but Harper knew she had no choice. For her parents and their legacy, for herself and her safety.
The funeral was sad but beautiful. Being planned by Harper and for her parents, there would be nothing less. She spoke in front of the large crowd that attended, remaining composed yet letting the appropriate hints of raw emotion through. She only broke down, herself, once everyone had left, and she was left truly and remarkably alone.
Harper wasn’t one to mind being alone, but this was different. It wasn’t just alone in the sense of “being by herself” or “not with other people,” it was Capital A, Alone, as in not having other people; as in being on her own... For the foreseeable future. A vast sense of isolation set in soon after, and still affected her deeply. Being Harper, of course, she did everything in her power not to let that show, mainly by channeling it into maintaining her reserved, witty, sophisticated, and at times, icy, demeanor. And when Harper put her all into something, she was successful...
Even if the voice inside her warning that it could actually be to her own detriment still hadn’t gone away, five years later.
Started in Beautiful Rooms // Harper and Antonin
Approaching the Malfoy Malfoy Manor simultaneously comforted Harper while also setting her on edge. It oozed elegance and class, along with mystery and foreboding; just her type. She was intrigued by it, and to some extent, that worried her. Less so than it had in the past, but there was still a dull, nagging concern in the back of her mind.
“How did I get here?” she sometimes asked herself, flashing through memories of the intense and turbulent series of events that led to her current arrangement. She stopped herself before she could get too far. Wrong time, wrong place. She had a job to do and an image to uphold.
Many of the BDK hotels were large and sophisticated, and Harper had no problem walking into those with an air of confidence and ownership, but here? Here she felt dwarfed. Sometimes she even felt that the perfectly manicured shrubbery hissed at her presence. None of this was helped by the fact that, unlike most of the Death Eaters, Harper was not allowed to apparate into the manor. She knew why that was; because she was a half-blood. It didn’t matter that she was smarter than most of them, and perhaps more talented, to boot. According to them, she was lesser. Momentarily clenching her hands into fists and looking down at her shoes, she took a deep breath and tried to channel the attitude she could usually put on so well, before lifting her head and venturing forward up the walkway to the manor’s ornate front door.
Upon reaching it, Harper hesitated. Was she to knock? Was she to ring the bell? She doubted it was in her best interest to just walk in, though that was what she would prefer to do. Attempting to gain some control over the situation, she gave two raps on the door, paused a second, and tested the handle, discovering the door was unlocked.
Harper was acutely aware, as she crossed the threshold, that the door being unlocked was no coincidence. And although there was no one in sight, she instinctively knew that she was being watched. Perhaps someone wanted to observe how she behaved when she thought she was alone, or perhaps it was just another demeaning tactic. Adjusting her bag on her shoulder, she entered the room to her right. It appeared to be a sitting room (likely one of many), with portraits adorning the walls. Intrigued, Harper began to examine them, beginning with the one closest to the door, intending to make her way from there to the other side. She was only a couple of pictures in when she sensed a presence at the doorway, and looked over her shoulder to see who it was.
@antonin-whoisleft
