Who: Sylvie Fawcett
Where: Helga’s Hill
When: 11 June 2001, before the ribbons appear
Sylvie Fawcett had had a rough couple of days. Once Hopkins had got her thinking about her family, her mood had gone from the highest highs to crashing. She had never got on with her mère, really, but Sylvie’s dad had always been her rock, the more reasonable one. Until he’d been imprisoned in Azkaban for stealing magic leaving him more fragile and no longer himself. And that made her feel the disappointment she was to her family much more acutely and was why she tried to avoid them outside of holidays. And instead dealt with her feelings by drinking and shagging and being the most horrible and disappointing person she could be to them, even if they didn’t know it. Maybe subconsciously she was hoping to expose herself as their failure, but Sylvie never allowed herself to think that deeply about it.
At any rate, she’d gone out drinking, had thoroughly mediocre sex with some bloke whose name she couldn’t be arsed to remember and had way overslept Monday morning, leading her to be quite late to work and her pay being docked which had put her in an even worse mood. And what was the best thing to do when you were in a bad mood? Have fun at the expense of others, of course! And the mix up at the Jewel of India gave her an idea of easy pickings.
That was why she had used her charmwork to make up some really nice looking posters asking people to choose which side of the Wickersham/Davies divide they were on, complete with attached ribbons for the taking (to show support for a side). It would cause some drama and much needed distraction.
Pulling a blue ribbon off the poster which read “Men always do it better” to tie around her wrist, Sylvie grinned. This was bound to be fun, and just what she needed.