People say that being in love is the best thing ever. It’s not. It can heal, and hurt, build and destroy. It can fix the broken heart in your chest, or it can tear it out, so hard and fast that you lose your breath.


1. Chapter I: Meeting. Again.

Abraxus DeVega was a lonely person, and honestly, nobody really cared. In fact he had been lonely for so long that he simply did not know how not to be lonely. He was such a lonely person that making a mental list of all his friends only took about 4 seconds, as there were only two people in it: Griffin Westbrook and Tuesday Maquigon. Griffin was a old childhood friend, one that used to be just as mean and spiteful as Abraxus, until he married Abraxus’s only other friend Tuesday Maquigon. And Tuesday? Well, Tuesday liked everyone. Abraxus was not lonely because people thought he was unattractive (he was most certainly not unattractive, in fact being named number one sexiest wizard of 2007 pretty much guaranteed not never even make the briefest appearance on the ‘ugly’ list) or he was misunderstood. He was lonely and almost friendless because he was brutally honest at the wrong times and greatly unpleasant. If say, someone had buckteeth and terribly big, frizzy hair he would tell them in the meanest way possible to go see the dentist, buy some good conditioner and stop bringing down the world attractiveness level. In his (rather weak) defence, Abraxus’s cold personality was mostly influenced by his parents. If he wasn’t receiving the best grades or if he said something useless or stupid, his father Apollyon would bluntly let him know. If he didn’t look his best his mother, Helviliea, would harshly reprimand him. Because that was the way that he was brought up, it was the way he acted around everyone. This made Abraxus a handsome, intelligent, witty git. And the worst part was that he could’ve been a handsome, intelligent, witty, charismatic, loveable person. And he simply chose not to be one. Because of his loneliness, it lead to a lot of free time, which lead to a lot of thinking time, which lead to a lot jesus-christ-and-his-mother-too-i’m-a-terrible-person. One day when he was pondering his own awfulness, Tuesday dropped in for a visit. “Anyone home?” She’d asked, her heels clacking on the marble floor. “Yes.” “Darn, I was hoping that you weren’t.” “And here I was, falsely thinking that you were the nice one.” Abraxus said, feigning hurt. “Oh give it a break. I was hoping you weren’t because that would mean that you’d gone out. For the first time in the past five years.” “Sod off, Maquigon. I still have friends, so who cares if I don’t go out?” “I think you mean that you still have a friend, because I’m not being one anymore. Well, until you stop wasting your life, get out of your abnormally large house, get a job and become a pleasant person.” ‘Well scratch that, Tuesday liked everyone except him, just his luck.’ “Well I don’t need you. I’ve still got other people.” “What other people?! Griffin was the one that sent me over here, and don’t tell me that you’re BFFs with your mom, because I know that your family is not on good terms.” Tuesday cried, exasperated. “Look how you treated my sister! There was not one date that she did not come back crying from. And I’m not even going to start on how you abuse my daughter.” “I do not ‘abuse’ Bianca. I’m just a wonderfully truthful old bloke.” Tuesday scoffed. “Truthful? I think that you’re far from truthful. Just last week you told Bianca that somewhere in the woods there was a evil sand-monster that would consume it’s enemies by choking them with his sand and then eating them body part by body part. I think that’s a long way away from truthful.” “Just cause you don’t believe in the sand-wonker doesn’t mean that it isn’t real.” Abraxus whined. “Oh give it a break. You don’t really believe in that nonsense do you? Cause if you do I’ll have to add ‘mentally unstable’ to your ever growing list of flaws.” “Ugh, fine. I’ll get out of the mansion and get a job if it gets you off my flipping back.” Abraxus groaned inwardly at the prospect of getting out of the mansion. Getting out of the mansion sounded almost as terrifying as going to work. “Great!” Tuesday chirped, back to her usual happy self. “There’s a coffee store called The Gopher, right around the corner of Minor lane and Marilyn road. They’re hiring, so I suggest you go out and get yourself a job there! I have to go, Griffin is back.” With a flick of her wrist, she zapped her self out of Abraxus’ home. After Tuesday had left, Abraxus called over his boggart. “Boggart. Bring me my wand.” Upon a moment of hesitation, Abraxus reluctantly muttered a “please”. Boggart, his boggart nearly dropped the wand in shock, his master, never, ever, EVER, said please. Boggart nearly fell over in surprise when Abraxus managed to choke out a thank you. ‘Well, I’d better get going’ Abraxus thought, and then clapped his hands twice and with a puff of smoke, disappeared from the manor. Popping in just outside the ridiculously named café (the Gopher? Seriously?) he sighed heavily before pushing open the creaky wooden door. The first thing that really surprised Abraxus was the size of the place, and having lived in one of the biggest mansions in England, that didn’t happen often. Maybe it was because it looked tiny and shabby on the outside, but he certainly did not expect a state-of-the-art wizarding cafe large enough to fit at least eight giants. Strolling up to the shiny, well-polished marble counter, he looked around and realised that styles, as they tend to do, had changed in the past five years. Gone were the swishy, heavy black robes and traditional black pants and in their place came the sort of shirts that Abraxus tended to wear inside his robes. Was everyone so confused that they forgot that underclothing was supposed to be worn well, under clothing. And the pants! They were blue and made of a material called day-num. ‘What in the name of the seven hells is day-num?’ And instead of the buttons and elastic that held up his trousers, they were held up by little strips of silver teeth, something that they liked to call zee-pers. Upon his reaching of the counter, a tall, middle-aged, familiar looking woman emerged from the kitchens and came over. “Excuse me sir? What would you like to order? I can see that you’re new, so let me tell you my recommendations, personally I enjoy the raspberry mocha twist, but that’s always a bit swee-” “I’m here to to apply for a job.” Abraxus rudely interrupted and then cursed himself inwardly, why couldn’t he be nice? After a second of thought, he hastily added, “But thank you for your offers.” “Oh! That’s great! It’s been crazy busy here, and we really need the extra help! You can start on the day after you finish up this form right here.” The woman said all that in one breath and pushed a pen and some paper into his hands. “Omigosh! I nearly forgot, um my name is Devonne Hueberz.” “Abraxus DeVega, pleasure to meet you.” He grinned inwardly and gave himself a mental high-five. Gasping, Devonne dropped into an awkward curtsy, which was very hard to do, considering that she was wearing a pair of those ridiculously tight blue pants made of day-num. Abraxus smiled, snapped his fingers and watched as the paper filled itself up. Afterwards he handed it over to Devonne, “here, should I start today?” “No, that’s not necessary, but my daughter November can come train you and you’ll officially start tomorrow! November! Come here!” When a pretty brunette came out of the kitchen, Abraxus choked and wished that he had never signed the contract. It was his long-time nemesis November Valentio. Back in school, she had beaten him in every class, she was intelligent to the point where it became scary. She was brave and loyal, however she was uptight and not very attractive. But now, ‘damn, that girl’s the grenade’ he thought. Her wild, frizzy hair was now tamed into a sleek high pony tail, her figure, once hidden underneath heavy black robes were nicely shown under a tank top and a pair of skinny day-num pants. If it wasn’t for her familiar hateful glare, he wouldn’t even have recognised her. “November?!” He spluttered. “Yes, Abraxus.” She spat his name as if it was a terrible disease. “Do you two know each other?” Devonne asked cheerily, still painfully unaware of the tension between the two young adults. “Unfortunately.” November replied, death stare still fixated on Abraxus. “November! Please, be polite to this young gentleman, he’s going to be your fellow employee, so you better resolve whatever feuds are going on between you two.” She first looked pointedly at November, then at Abraxus. “Fine.” November stuck out her hand for Abraxus to shake. After wiping her hand for a full minute with some wet wipes he reluctantly shook her hand. Looking like she wanted to pound him into the ground like she did in 6th grade, she gripped his hand so hard Abraxus swore that he heard the bones crackle. She lead him into the kitchen behind the counter and after making sure that Devonne couldn’t hear or see them, she slapped him right across his pretty face. “You rat’s arse! Why’d you sign up to work here?” “Jeezus woman!” Abraxus cried, rubbing his face. “I signed up because Griffin and Tuesday forced me to go out and get a job and I thought, ‘being a coffee barista seems really easy!’ Now, I’m wishing that I signed up to taste ice-cream!” “That makes two of us.” November muttered darkly. “Great! I love to see you two kids agreeing on something. I just knew that Griffin shouldn’t have worried” She stopped mid-sentence, realising too late her mistake. “You guys set us up?!” They cried in unison. “No, Aldaline just got November. We thought of the plan.” Tuesday burst from the closet revealing herself and an embarrassed, flustered looking Griffin. “So Devonne isn’t Valentio’s mother?” Abraxus asked, greatly confused. “Wait. Who’s Devonne? Who’s Aldaline? What’s going on?” “Of course not.” November answered. “No offence.” “None taken. November’s parents are humans, and the whole Devonne Hueberz thing was just a front to get you to sign the contract. You would’ve never signed it if you knew it was me.” Aldaline Mylantheo, November’s best friend said, now shaking off her disguise spell to reveal herself. “Well I quit.” Abraxus snapped. “You can’t. The contract says that you have to work here for at least 5 months before you can get fired, or quit. And you can’t act badly here either. Every wrong move you make is 800 Romaes off your bank account.” Aldaline announced smugly. “Fine. I’m a DeVega. Money isn’t a problem.” “It is for you now. Your mother froze your assets, she was in on the plan as well.” “Whatever.” Abraxus muttered, but inside he was screaming ‘sodding bint! Curse them all!’ “So 5 months? I guess I could manage that, but you all are to blame if I die of some awful disease.” November shook her head at his rudeness and then said, “5 months? That’s nothing to me. I could spend a year here.” “Of course you can. Everyone wants to stick with us high-class people.” “High class? More like bottom of the class as I recall.” “Shut up Valentio. That was one time.” It was then when he realised that everyone else had cleared out. “Shoddy excuse for friends, lemme tell you.” “Okay.” “What?” “Tell me. Tell me about your friends. I know we hated each other but as we’re now forced to work together, why don’t we go out for some coffee?” Abraxus cleared his throat. “Ahem, Valentio. We’re standing in a coffee store.” When November blushed he thought in his head, ‘Top of the class my arse.’ “Why don’t I tell you, while you make me a frap?” “I think you mean, teach you how to make a ‘frap’” November snapped, “And here I was, wrongly assuming that we could have a civil conversation.” “I can have a civil conversation. Not sure about you and your kind.” Abraxus said haughtily. November had been born into a fae family but had gotten the rare wizarding gene from her mother’s side of the family. “Why are you so rude to me? I haven’t done anything to you! If we’re going to work together, you’re going to have to keep your racist comments to yourself. I’m just as much of a witch as you are a wizard and the only reason that you pick on me for my heritage is because you wish you were the heir to the English throne!” November covered her mouth in shock, knowing that she shouldn’t have said the last bit. “You’re a princess?! Never would’ve expected it.” Abraxus sniffed. “Ugh! Screw getting to know you. I’ll just teach you how to make the drinks. No, I’ll let the book teach you how to make the drinks and we’ll avoid each other.” After seeing the look on Abraxus’s face she added, “What? Realised you didn’t know how to read?” “No, Valentio, I was surprised that you, of all people could come up with a semi-intelligent plan.” “Semi-intelligent?! I’d think brilliant if it means I won’t have to see your ugly face for a very, very long time.” “Ugly?! Ugly?! I think god-like is the word you’re looking for.” “Sure. God of the damn trolls.” November shot back. “Well then trolls have gotten to look mighty fine since I’ve last seen them.” Abraxus smirked, knowing he had won this round. It was only when November asked, “What round?” did he realise that he was speaking out loud. “This round of conversation.” Abraxus rolled his eyes, as if it was plaintively obvious. “Conversation isn’t supposed to be a competition!” “Everything is a competition, stupid.” “You’re insufferable.” “And you’re mind-numbingly ugly and non-intelligent.” “Unintelligent.” November shook her head, “and here you are calling me, the ‘non-intelligent’ one.” “Get out.” “Excuse me?” “Get out! Or are we not going with your ‘brilliant’ plan?” Abraxus was trying to be nice, but November got a rise out of him like no other person could. “Get out, or go to hell.” November stalked out of the room, but not before yelling back, “Fine. Why don’t you tell me how to get there, cause you obviously would be very familiar with the place.” She slammed the metal doors just before he cast a stinging hex. And here they were, meeting, again.
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