past the point of no return

thcdreadless​:

While Scorpius didn’t recognise the girl in front of him, it seemed as though she may have been in a similar position to him that night. While to others it seemed like he was surrounded by old friends who were dying to know what he was up to nowadays, he knew everything they were saying was simply empty words. They didn’t really care what his life was like, they were just using the question as an excuse to brag about their own amazing stories.

Beatrice simple seemed as though she was alone. By the looks of things, whoever she had come with had ditched her (or she had left them) but it seemed like there wasn’t much here for her, either.

“What makes it so special?” That made Scorpius really contemplate her statement. For most it was the nostalgia - the fact that most of the people in this room spent the best part of their childhood in these walls was enough to call it special. But for Scorpius, that wasn’t exactly the case. Sure he had good memories, the odd friend he had made and could always count on, but he had grown up. Hogwarts had played its part, but unlike some of the people at the reunion tonight, he found it best not to dwell on those days. “Maybe I can help you figure that out?” He suggested, sensing her eagerness to get out of the Great Hall.

--

“Sure.” Except when Beatrice said it, it sounded incredibly unsure, so she followed it up with a more succinct response. “Yes.”

She quickly let the glass go and it floated someplace to where the used dishware was being collected and quickly led the way out of the Great Hall. The ballroom was impressive, with illusionary charms on the ceiling and its floating candles. Maybe if she were surrounded by this same place for years and years it would have more meaning aside from just being grand.

There was no amount of time that would make this special to Beatrice, but she appreciated that her new companion would try anyway. She tried not to let herself get too annoyed that evening, considering that most of the people she had met that were alumni were all incredibly disrespectful—unless, of course, they were related to Beatrice herself. The thinner the crowd had become, it was like something slid off her shoulders.  

“Are you an alumnus then?” Beatrice asked, knowing that the odds were very likely that he was—especially since Beatrice herself hadn’t exactly known very many people to be invited who studied abroad instead. “You seem to know your way around the castle, no?”

yesmrpotter​:

Harry could see Beatrice’s outright determination to stand strong, he almost respected it despite the fact that she was obviously furious with him. Anybody with a backbone often worked hard to maintain it, and that demanded a certain degree of admiration. Begrudging or otherwise. “I understand.” He said quietly. “And when new cases arrive, they will be taken on. But for now, my department is lending their focus to the source of the letters.” If they found the source, they found quite possibly the most dangerous group of individuals in the Wizarding World. It benefitted everybody. 

“This department is doing what it exists to do, whether you are able to see that or not.” He assured her, an edge still to his voice. “At no point did I say that.” He glared, endlessly frustrated by the accusations. “There have been no other cases similar to this one, but if something does happen I will be treating it with the same level of urgency.” He wasn’t sure why he was even trying to defend himself at this point. Her mind was clearly made up, she was never going to agree with his methods. 

When she made no move to get up, he stood himself, making his way over to the door so that he could pull it open for her. “This isn’t a tantrum. It’s a response to be questioned for caring about my son.” He snapped. “Get out of my office or I will call Magical Law to escort you out. I won’t hesitate.” 

--

Beatrice couldn’t decide if she had nothing to lose or everything to lose. She had already lost everything when her husband had been murdered, so it was hard to feel that she was losing anything—even if it meant disrepute in a country that she had only called home for a few months.

She was not losing because she was absolutely right, but she had to admit to herself that she had come to a point where, in spite of all of the fallacies she had pointed out in how Harry Potter managed the resources he had been trusted with, she was not going to be heard. At least not today.

“The department is not yours to abuse.” She didn’t trust him to treat any other cases with the same urgency as he claimed. “But that’s fine. The magical community will manage without law enforcement, just because poor Alby tripped over a cursed trash can.”

Was this argument worth losing the safety and security of not being scrutinized any longer? But there was no worse crime to be accused of than the murder of your own husband. She sat up, resigning herself to the inevitable then.

“Have me escorted then. I’d love to meet the people who’ll have me dragged to past the courtrooms without a trial and right into Azkaban once you give the order.”

She would not be martyred; no, martyrs had an audience. To just about everyone on this island, Beatrice Lestrange was a nobody. There were no people to impress and no people peering into her windows to see what dark magic she and Marius made a mess of. But she knew that any punishment would be out of line—and that was satisfaction enough.

messcnger​:

Iris had walked the halls of Hogwarts a thousand times before, but never had it been so quiet.

It was nighttime, of course, so she didn’t expect to see any students walking around, talking loudly with their friends. But she’d expected to hear students sneaking around, whispering to a secret lover in one of the nicer broom closets, or muffled giggles from some pranksters sneaking away from their latest masterpiece. Maybe even someone crying softly in one of the hidden rooms, or behind one of the suits of armour, clutching a letter from home that held bad news.

But there was nothing. No whispers, giggles, or tears. Just the sound of muffled conversations coming from the Great Hall, and even those had gotten more and more quiet. Fear had drained all the fun from Hogwarts. The fun, and the gossip.

However, if there’s one thing she’d learnt in her years of learning people’s secrets, it was that there’s always someone just around the corner with a secret they desperately needed to say out loud; you just needed to be patient.

She only meant for the saying to be metaphorical, but it seemed that luck was on her side, because some unsuspecting guest that Iris didn’t immediately recognize had just turned around the corner, and was heading towards the staircase on which Iris was currently sitting on. Even if there was no gossip, Iris was bored out of her mind, and any conversation was good when you were a little tipsy.

“My, don’t you look lovely.” She said sweetly, eyeing the person up and down and determining the outfit actually wasn’t awful. “Bored with the reunion or looking to cause trouble?” She asked with a small smirk, hoping it was the latter. Not too much trouble, but enough to keep her night interesting.

--

Beatrice quickly tipped her head back, finishing the glass before realizing that there was no one of interest there. However, her definition of interesting wasn’t like most other people’s; to Beatrice, interest only sparked when there’s an opportunity, a hand reaching out to take Beatrice higher among the echelons of pureblood society.

That is, if it existed here. She exhaled and let the glass float back to where all the other empty glasses were before making a swift exit out of the Great Hall. She focused intensely on the direction she took, memorizing every turn until she had come up a staircase.

The person sitting on it would have been left unnoticed had they not addressed Beatrice meandering up the stairs. There was a slight air of frustration—it was not that Beatrice did not want to be noticed, so much as she was eager to just be… someplace else. The castle was full of hiding places, she was sure, so there had to be a corner there where she was welcome.

“Sure. Boredom. Is that the same for yourself?”

She was mostly asking out of politeness—though there was no way she could possibly get into any more trouble than she already had for just expressing a dissenting opinion. The woman’s dress draped in a way that Beatrice realized that the cut and the length was similar to what she wore, so she did find herself warming a little.

yesmrpotter​:

Harry felt another surge of anger, infuriated by the idea of the Minister being biased towards him. Kingsley was a friend, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be held accountable when it became necessary. I think you’ll find the Prophet has never truly been on my side. He said carefully, remember his years as a teenager, actively struggling against the propaganda and tabloid gossip. “But I appreciate your concern.” His frown deepening at the mention of Hermione, he glared at the woman, doing everything he could to maintain his composure. 

“Excuse me?” He bit out at the insult, resisting the urge to stand suddenly. Towering over her would only be considered a threat or a power play. He couldn’t afford to be accused of that, not in such a position of authority. “The attack isn’t the only danger, but it’s the only true danger that has produced any genuine leads on Grindelwald’s followers.” He snapped. “Until then, nearly every case to unearth potential supports has led my staff to dead ends, or unable to prove connections.” There were so many rules and legislations his department needed to work through before they could take anybody into custody or involve Magical Law, sometimes it was an incredibly lengthy and complicated process. 

“My son nearly died. The people we are hunting actively attacked him. I would call that a rather pressing concern and if you wouldn’t then I have no choice but to question whose side you are really on, Miss Lestrange.” He clenched his fists, swallowing his rage. Maybe she was right, maybe if somebody he was less familiar with had been the victim, he would have allowed a handful of workers to continue focusing on their individual case files, but from where he was standing, that was logical. And according to the lack of breakthroughs, would have made absolutely no difference whatsoever. “My son deserves the best everything.” He raised his voice, unable to help himself. “I earned this position because I am fair, and sensible, and make good decisions for the department. If my judgement has slipped, I think it might be a little understandable given the nature of the situation. But I stand by it being the right thing to do. Nobody else seems to have taken issue, so might I suggest you leave? Before either of us says something they come to regret.” 

--

She felt the corners of her mouth stretch as he loomed over her where she sat. Beatrice crossed her legs and sat up a little straighter, though she knew she wasn’t going to win against an authority figure. The fight was long lost when he hadn’t taken her complaint about Leah Proudmore seriously, though that had been a warning already of how mismanaged the department was.

“This attack isn’t the only danger,” Beatrice repeated slowly. “Which means your Aurors shouldn’t abandon everyone else for this one case, regardless of whatever’s out there or not. It would be very easy for someone else to figure out that Grindewald was a good enough distraction for the Auror department and decide to take matters in their own hands.”

Her voice had dropped, not because she felt remorse at her accusation, but because she already knew that whatever she said wasn’t going to be heard. She had no hope to be heard by anyone else either, and while it had only been momentarily satisfying to say her piece about how

“Your son deserves the best everything, and it turns out everyone else’s sons deserve nothing. How fair and sensible is that?”

Beatrice didn’t think he would be sorry at all considering that she was here pointing out his lack of judgement already. He didn’t even try and pretend that of course he would spend all this time had someone else been attacked. She made no move to leave, still daring him to hex her out of his office. 

“Nobody else has taken issue because you’re going to question which side they’re on if they do. Go ahead and make your assumptions about me, but do you really believe that someone can have any dissenting opinion when they have to deal with the tantrum you’re having right now?”

colm-oir​:

Aloma poked her head out of her room, an apologetic smile on her face. “Sorry, I must have lost track of the time. I’m almost ready Beatrice…” She was glad her cousin had accepted her invitation to come with her to Hogwarts on such short notice, though that was mostly her own fault for having debated on it for so long. Still, she had made a point to try and reconnect with her older cousin despite how different there worlds had been growing up.

“I’m happy you decided to come with me, by the way. Mum, dad, and my brothers will be there and I know they’ll be excited to see you.” Aloma raised her voice a bit so she could be heard from the other room, thinking for a moment before adding. “And if Ronan’s giving you any trouble just tell him to go lay down, he’ll listen even if he grumps a bit.” She’d noticed them just staring at each other when she’d poked her head out, though at the sound of his name he’d turned his big head around towards her room and started wagging his tail lazily. “He’s a good dog and for the most part understands personal space, but he’s also a big baby that acts like he’s never been loved a day in his life.” She finished her hair a moment or two later, stepping out into the living room.

“Alright, ready to go if you are…”

--

“It’s fine. I’m not in a hurry to really… go.” Beatrice halfway wished that she had better places to be. It was not that her extended family were ever an issue; they were lovely, as far as she remembered when she was younger but after having married Marius she hadn’t seen much of them after her wedding.

Beatrice gave a small smile at the dog, though she didn’t reach out to touch him.

“Honestly I’d rather spend time with him than go—but apparently this is the event of the year, not exactly one I get to miss, no? Networking… and all that.” Beatrice’s face returned to its resting grimace. “But the security’s probably piss poor, unless your last name is Potter.

She sighed and stood to greet Aloma, her eyes wide at her dress. It sparkled and draped gently from her waist. She made Beatrice look incredibly underdressed in comparison, though Beatrice was sure that her jewelry did much of the talking for her. She wondered if everyone else dressed with as much flashiness, the thought of it making her feel comfortable. “You look like you have a better date to this than just me!”

oxfordasp​:

Albus was a little out of practice moving through crowds like this.  Muggles crowding a pup, he’d slither through with no problem.  But it had been some time since he’d stalked a proper function.  Learning to move through these spaces with poise and grace and the deadly intent for another glass of something was a bit like riding a bike however.  It came back quick enough to remind him that he needed more champagne at an alarming rate.  

He was in search of another glass when he heard that old line.  It took almost everything in his power to not revert to schoolroom tendencies and fire a hex over his shoulders.  

“Do I indeed?  Did he manage a comb through his hair then?” he replied a current of cold through his voice.  He turned, a small smile on his face that never quite reached his eyes, taking in the speaker.  It was a face he probably should recognize sine she knew his.  Though…that wasn’t that uncommon.  He arched an eyebrow slowly and turned to fully face his new acquaintance.  “Quite a curious definition of luck then.  Afraid it’s not in any dictionary I’m familiar with.” He flashed a smile, sharp and tinged with curiosity.  “But I do have a rule.  I don’t debate policy without being introduced.  And without a drink.”  He smirked and flicked his wand out, two glasses sailing his way, much to the annoyance of one of the staff.  He smirked and offered a flute.  “So, introductions?  Though I’m afraid they’re rather one sided.  You already know me.  But I’d so love the pleasure,” he drawled.  

--

Beatrice had no issue with Albus Potter himself aside from the fact that he had just confirmed that he was an annoying, under serving little shit. She gracefully snatched the wine glass he had offered, very much aware of the rules of decorum.

Beatrice inhaled quickly through her nose. Her husband Marius had a penchant for picking unnecessary fights, and not that Beatrice considered herself more prudent of the two of them, the emotional upheaval kept her simmering.

She pondered for a moment. The Potter family was already made her enemy by the virtue of her encounter with Harry Potter himself, though it did not surprise her that he was unwilling to take her side then. An introduction would not hinder her any more than she was already pulled back—and she was eager to fight the son with as much ferocity as she did against the father.

“Beatrice Lestrange.” If the name struck fear, she would not apologize. She took a sip, her expression stony still. They were in public, though any spell against precious little Albus Potter would quickly land someone in shackles. However, it wasn’t Beatrice they should be worrying about. “You’ve got quite the privilege there, with your father dropping every ounce of what the Ministry has to offer for your protection. Not everyone gets to be so special.”

mikhailpetrov​:

Mikhail had lost Lily along the way at some point, she had stopped to talk to one of her friends from school and walked off with them. It didn’t bother him at all, actually he was glad she had those connections with people even after a few years apart. Sometimes he forgot that she was far less removed from school than he was, but he had no intention of ever going back to Durmstrang for anything.

He also took Lily’s departure as an excuse to step away from the crowd for a little while. Most of the people there were side-eyeing him any time he spoke, and despite understanding their weariness, he was a bit sick of it. They were all assuming things of him that he couldn’t disprove without starting a conversation he didn’t want to have, so he took himself on a walk instead. 

As he strolled down the hall, a voice pulled his attention from analyzing the paintings to the figure it belonged to. There was something familiar about her, but it took a moment for Mikhail to even come close to placing it. “Perhaps,” he suggested, “If my assumptions are correct, we were in a similar year at Durmstrang. Though, I think I was one year above you. Mikhail Petrov.”

--

“Beatrice Les—” She paused, realizing that her true name wouldn’t be familiar to him, in spite of how proud she was of it. “Beatrice Macmillan. What brings you here?”

There was a tone of disbelief in her voice; while Durmstrang alumni scattered across Europe, there were few of them who had ended up on this godforsaken island.

The circumstances of Beatrice having come to the United Kingdom wasn’t something she talked about at length with anyone. Sometimes she left it at family matters and she wouldn’t be bothered otherwise; at least here she wasn’t hunted, nor was she in any danger. Though her surname had already branded her a criminal, especially with the attitude she took at the Auror’s office, but she was not willing to hide in a place where she had no crime but having an opinion.

She could use some friends, though she wouldn’t have admitted that to anyone, or herself for that matter. It was just hard to find people who understood, though she didn’t expect Mikhail Petrov to be running from something like she was.

“Are you on your way to the festivities?” Beatrice asked casually, though she herself hadn’t bothered to pretend to be lost. She stood up a little straighter, realizing that Mikhail Petrov did not belong here either.

thcdreadless​:

Scorpius had been stood on the edge of a circle of people - people he didn’t really have anything in common with. The Slytherins that were talking to him seemed to be acting as though they were best friends at Hogwarts, when in reality, most of the Slytherins in his year seemed to have something against him.

As Beatrice made her way through the crowd, she came close to knocking Scorpius’ glass of champagne from his hand. “Woah.” He managed to move the glass just in time, turning to face her. “You seem to be in a rush.” He stated, looking the girl in front of him up and down. It wasn’t meant to come across as a rude gesture, he just hadn’t noticed the girl before and was trying to take her in. “Bad memories associated with this place?” This time glancing up at the door of the Great Hall, almost taking in once again. That was something he could relate to.

--

Did Beatrice had an attraction to having liquids spilled all over her? Most, if not all, of the incidents she had were mostly her own fault, but at least this one had some actual dexterity and kept his glass upright.

Beatrice swallowed when he addressed her. While there was nothing familiar there for Beatrice to really find any nostalgia in, that didn’t mean that the castle wasn’t impressive. It just wasn’t home.

She should not have been shocked by the small talk occurring, and she had been stopped by someone who didn’t come to this party thinking they should have arrived in costume. Being a stranger in a new place was difficult enough, had it not been for the fact that there had been so little kindness so far.

Not that Beatrice expected to be received kindly. The world did not operate like that, and neither did she. But polite didn’t need to equate to nice.

“More like no memories of this place.” It was easy to explain that she had come here with someone else—her cousin, who she lost immediately after getting bored of the friends she tried to introduce her to. “I’m just trying to figure out what made it so special.”

BEATRICE LESTRANGE - DURMSTRANG’S ALUMNA

BLACK AS NIGHT - Beatrice keeps her dresses simple. She didn’t have time to shop, nor does she really trust anyone to design to her needs. Nearly all of her dresses cinch at the waist. The mock neck and sleeves provide a blank slate for her jewelry. She didn’t really think this was a ballgown occasion; the dress only goes up to mid-calf, though it gives her ease of movement.

LESTRANGE ALLOMANCY - The only thing Beatrice makes a point of showing off are the jewelry she received from her husband’s family. The Lestranges were known for their allomancy and some of the old family heirlooms have embedded charms that even Beatrice hasn’t figured out. This necklace and matching earrings are meant to be seen; the Lestrange family were not known for being subtle about wealth, status, and skill in France. Her jewels have an anti-theft charm, weighing heavy to those who try and steal it.

Beatrice had come prepared in relatively plain clothes—a simple black dress with a rather large diamond necklace that would have forced her torso to sink had it not been charmed. She was not in need of a stylist, though what she wore looked typical of what she wore every day anyway, only with larger jewels. Rather, she was at her cousin’s apartment to attend the ball with her, though she had a feeling this was more out of obligation than kindness.

And of course Beatrice has to accept. It was rarely that she got to visit another country’s school, though she heralded both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to be of higher merit. Her father had to leave the country to seek potions knowledge that Hogwarts hadn’t taught.

If the intention had been to get ready at Aloma’s, then Beatrice didn’t get the message. Her hair was done up and her jewels set as soon as she arrived, and she sat in the dining room chair, staring at the dog, who stared back. She made no effort to make herself comfortable, nor did she try and convince herself this was going to be a good time. Her encounters with people here hadn’t exactly made her feel welcome.

Perhaps Beatrice would have gotten more entertainment out of a generation of students doing their best to outdo each other in their latest life achievements had she actually cared what they were doing. None of her plans were so grandiose, but she wasn’t going for ambition. Instead she chose to slip away; there was no one worth a conversation with anyway.

Beatrice wandered further out of the Great Hall, avoiding the group of people gathered close to the entrance. Most of the halls were illuminated, and she wasn’t planning on getting herself lost. She quickly memorized each turn she took, her hand against the wall.

Beatrice looked for something, but wasn’t quite sure what it was. Her eyes darted forward to find more long halls, though this time there was a figure there that surprised her. She mumbled an apology, trying to think of an excuse as to why she would be so far from the party, only to be distracted by who she has come across.

“Do I know you?”

The question was so strange and out of place, considering that Beatrice knew no one there. This was not her school, nor it had been her late husband’s—the fact that she was even here was more out of a kindness to her family.

While most of the festivities were concentrated in the Great Hall, it was beginning to dawn on Beatrice that there was nothing of interest for her there. Her own father was busy chatting up his Hufflepuff friends and Beatrice quickly excused herself soon after the introductions were made. She had met most of them before, though none were memorable enough that Beatrice thought they were worth trying to impress.

Instead she made her way out of the Great Hall. The castle was large, though the architecture wasn’t as fascinating as her own school’s. There was magic embedded into the walls at Durmstrang, and Beatrice was having difficulty really embracing Hogwarts castle as a place with meaning.

That being said, she was determined to look for it. The crowd was beginning to condense further, and Beatrice kept her eyes on the doors at the end of the room.

“Excuse me,” Beatrice said firmly, nearly elbowing a former alumnus. She didn’t want to ask for help, but she was beginning to become overwhelmed to the point where she was already tempted to just hack her way through with her wand in hand and a hex between her teeth.

After all, there were hexes that Durmstrang taught differently.

How the entirety of the magical community happened to fit in the Great Hall spoke a lot about how small it was. While Beatrice was sure that not everyone could come, it was clear that there was no one who had not received an invitation. Her eyes scanned the room quickly as she moved from table to table, less eager to look for company and more interested in doing some eavesdropping of her own.

The familiar wave of jet black hair passed her and she couldn’t help but follow. Whatever injury Albus Potter sustained, Beatrice couldn’t actually see from where she stood. It was the first thing she looked for, though she was more concerned with getting within earshot of him. She was determined to prove that he was just as pigheaded as his father and spoiled to the core with how much attention he had received.

“You look just like your father.” Beatrice nearly snorted, holding back her laughter. She almost wished, for how much Harry Potter spent trying to protect his son, that Albus was had an injury that was actually worth the waste. “How lucky is it that he decided that the entire department of law enforcement revolves around you?”

yesmrpotter​:

Harry resisted the urge to sigh. His biggest fault, and Ginny had told him this on multiple occasions, was how difficult he found it to be diplomatic. Beatrice was being rude to him, and he needed to keep his temper in check.  She had ties to dark wizards, any connection he held with her could potentially be of use in the future, though he didn’t see her ever willingly co-operating with him.  “You were causing a scene.” He replied. “I was hoping to deescalate. My employee is allowed to be unprepared and un-alert in the safety of our department. From what I gather she has been training incredibly hard over the course of the past few weeks. Any opportunity to take a breather is a welcome one.” 

Holding his tongue, taking a deep breath, he adjusted his glasses and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back away from his face. “I will talk to Miss Proudmore about being more careful in the future.” He assured Beatrice. It was everything he could do not to roll his eyes. “The Prophet has far more important things to concern themselves with. I doubt a spilled coffee will interest them.” Setting his jaw, his expression slipped from being neutral and he glared at the woman sitting across from him. “It’s the kind of department that cares.” He snapped. “The kind of department that dedicates endless time and energy to catching catch dark wizards, one of whom decided to attack my son. I didn’t invite you here to question the way I run things, if you have an issue, you can take it higher.” 

Of course Beatrice was going to be the one to blame here—her lip curled into a smirk, momentarily amused by what was happening.

“Take it up higher than you? It’s rather convenient then, isn’t it, that the Prophet and the Minister are all eating out of the palm of your hand?”

Beatrice had nothing to lose now and she wasn’t holding back, consequences be damned; the Proudmore girl had upset her, but Beatrice was probably the one who put some real backbone into her—her opinion of this department was quickly sinking, though she had long learned not to trust law enforcement.

“Convenient then, isn’t it, that you can tell me to ‘take it up higher than you’ knowing that there’s no one to listen to my case? I’m sure that’s what you tell everyone who disagrees with you—send them down to Hermione Granger’s office and have her deal with your problems for you?”

She had thought she was making a good point about the department—even though she wasn’t the one running it. It was silly to drop everything for one person, especially since the world still had other problems with it that Harry Potter seemed to refuse to see just because he happened to be related to the person attacked. Weren’t there other cases to solve? Other problems that the Aurors should have been dealing with? Other people that needed protecting?

“You think the world revolves around you and your family, but what kind of selfish asshole decides that their son deserves every last resource this department has? This attack isn’t the only danger in the wizarding world and to ignore everything else is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard—unless you’re willing to admit your entire department hasn’t actually been doing anything since this happened, and we’ve all just lived in a world where crime didn’t exist until your son got attacked?” 

That would make sense then, if he were willing to excuse Leah Proudmore’s inattention, if the Auror’s didn’t have anything worth paying attention to. It was not that Beatrice herself needed Aurors walking around; this was about standing up for everyone who wasn’t named Potter.

“The wizarding world doesn’t revolve around your son. And I’m willing to wager everything in my vault that you wouldn’t drop everything had anyone else been attacked—me, or that Proudmore girl, or that receptionist out front—but no, your son deserves the best treatment the Potters can milk out of this department, doesn’t he?”

leah-proudmore​:

Leah just kept her eyes on the woman because she didn’t want to seem intimidated or anything by her words. Leah could feel the annoyance in her words. Somehow Leah could understand her frustration and Leah would feel sorry if the woman had shown her a little of humanity at the first place. Leah didn’t want an overreaction of kindness, but she didn’t want to be treated as less by a random woman she just bumped into.

Leah turned around and took a deep breath, she just wanted to get to the floor to finally start her first day at the Ministry. As the doors of the lift opened Leah started walking through the corridor looking both sides of it, trying to see the Head Auror’s office. Leah could hear the woman’s steps behind her making a shiver run down her spine. At the end of the corridor, she reached the door with the words ‘Auror Office’. “Ma’am I’m sure you wanna get in more than me” Leah said looking at the woman “So you can get in first” Leah said faking a polite smile. Leah was nervous she didn’t think that a little bit of coffee on the woman’s clothes could ruin her work, but as it was her first day… she didn’t want to give a bad impression.

--

Beatrice didn’t get a good enough explanation for how Leah Proudmore just happened to know where her office was, in spite of having no idea where it was when they started. Magic worked in strange ways, but this Auror, somehow, only had half a brain and was somehow expected to protect people? No wonder people were getting attacked, if this was who they decided was good enough to be an Auror.

Wordlessly, Beatrice took the opportunity to step forward past Leah Proudmore. There was a young man seated behind a desk, eager to take Beatrice’s request. She leaned forward over the receptionist, her eyes narrowed. “I need to speak with a superior. Now, please.”

She must have said it loudly enough to get the attention of someone who was further into the office, calling for her attention. Beatrice turned her head with the understanding that the person coming to fetch her was who she wanted to see. Why Harry Potter himself decided to get into the affairs of his underlings, she didn’t know or care. But it was a bit suspicious.

Leah Proudmore was not worth the energy to curse. Not worth the energy to get threatened with prison. Her ineptitude prevented her from any real success, as far as Beatrice could tell. But it wasn’t worth the effort to smile, but that didn’t stop her from walking with her back straight in satisfaction as she followed Harry Potter into his office.  

yesmrpotter​:

Harry made a point of listening patiently, knowing his responses would be utterly worthless if Beatrice didn’t believe he had heard out her arguments. That being said, he couldn’t help but wonder whether there was more to the story. Who became angry first? Who was rude first? It didn’t sound like Leah to not offer help. Unless, of course, she had been interrupted before she was able to. 

“Mrs Lestrange, I understand you’re upset, but please don’t imply my staff are disrespectful. As far as I am concerned they are polite and always willing to help. You will have to forgive me for not immediately accepting the thought of Miss Proudmore causing trouble.” Sighing tiredly, it wasn’t the first time somebody had vented like this, blaming him, or people from his workplace, for things that weren’t necessarily as bad as they had been made out to sound. “As I’m sure you understand, after… after my son, this department has been rather chaotic. I have pulled all of my Aurors away from their cases and asked them to focus on the letter. Everybody has been feeling a little flustered, as of late. I will take full responsibility for that.” 

--

“No, I won’t.” Beatrice pursed her lips and leaned back in her chair. That’s what this entire department was. Pathetic. Had she been someone else making a complaint against an Auror, would she have more credibility? She was a second-class citizen in spite of the fact that her father had spent his school years here. If her voice had warmth when they had started, it was certainly very even as she spoke now.

“Why bring me here anyway if you’re not going to believe me? Your employee was unprepared and unalert. I’m glad to know that this is the department head’s expectations of its Aurors. She needs to make reparations. But fine. If you’re not going to take my complaint, then perhaps the Prophet will.”

vxlyahontov​:

Valerie blinked in confusion for a moment, not expecting the woman’s politeness at all. She realised she was just standing there dumbly and quickly nodded, seeing the wand in the other’s hand. “O-oh, please, thank you,” she said quickly, standing still and allowing the woman to vanish the stain from her clothes, “you do that so much better than I ever could.” Valerie had never really excelled at utility charms like that. “I really am terribly sorry, normally I’m much more away of my surroundings. Must just be a little bit off today,” she gave the woman what she hoped was an apologetic smile. Thankfully it seemed the general crowds of the ministry were too distracted by their business to notice the fuss, so her embarrassment was limited to her and the poor woman she’d bumped into. “Let me make it up to you, if you have the time, there’s a cafe just around the corner, let me buy you a coffee or tea or something like that.”

--

Beatrice cleared the liquid off her shoes, and made quick work of the coffee stain off the other woman’s clothes. She gave a little laugh when she got a compliment—sort of?—about her wandwork. “Honestly, I only learned how to do this because the last time this happened to me… I was covered in coffee all day and I couldn’t remember this charm!”

Her politeness wasn’t forced. This woman was just as shy as the first person who had slipped coffee from her, but a little more composed. She was never actually in a hurry to get to work and she had stopped bringing her own coffee to the office because of the first incident.

“Yes.” Beatrice accepted her offer. “I’ll have some coffee. But let’s be careful when we go back to our offices. I’ve never actually been to the café here.”