It was still very tense between Constance and Phoebe, and when there was tension between those two, Aithne was dragged in. Constance was apologetic about pushing Phoebe over but the blonde was not budging. Whenever Aithne and Phoebe were together Constance would approach which led to Phoebe storming off. Aithne couldn't blame her friend, what Constance did was very rude, but this seemed typical for her.
All of this led to Aithne being perched on her bed, silently observing Phoebe's escalating fury. This felt like it had been a long time coming. The pair had found themselves alone in their dorm room, yet she was wary of being alone with her. What began as a recounting of what Constance had done now morphed into agitated muttering, leaving Aithne increasingly uneasy as Phoebe paced relentlessly, fixating her glare on the poor floorboards. Phoebe's muttered words became unintelligible, adding to Aithne's growing concern.
Aithne's eyes widened as she came to terms with the depth of Phoebe's anger over what seemed like typical Constance's behavior. Yes, it was rude but that was who she was! Aithne remembered Constance's past antics, including a particularly memorable hex on a first-year who 'dared approach' Aithne too closely. As this flashed through her mind, she remembered Phoebe had found this amusing. She agreed that this behavior was problematic but she didn't know what to do to mend it. Especially when she had been acting like this since her first year.
She tried to recall how she had become friends with Constance. It was a bit blurry but Aithne could remember it was first year and she had been sitting alone at the Slytherin table. This was before everything, it was before her popularity and the change taught to her by her sister. Constance had sat down next to her and started to talk. The rest was history.
Deciding it was time to speak up, Aithne started, "Are you alright, Phoebe? I'm sure she didn't mean any harm." Phoebe's pacing halted abruptly, her gaze now fixed on Aithne, though the anger seemed to have shifted focus. Aithne's apprehension heightened as Phoebe's stare intensified, but the muttering had ceased—a small victory, at least.
As Phoebe's gaze burned into her, Aithne's nerves prickled, uncertain of what her reaction would be. She held her breath, waiting for Phoebe's response, hoping to defuse the tension. She was always terrified of her when she was mad.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Phoebe's features softened, the anger within her eyes subsiding into a calmer expression. With a heavy sigh, she collapsed onto the edge of her own bed, the tension in her shoulders releasing slightly.
"I know, Aithne," Phoebe admitted, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "It's just unbelievable. I know that everyone loves you - a little too much sometimes - but that doesn't matter."
