cried power

tw: death, murder, war

————

The drink isn’t immediately thrown in his face and while Ezekiel knows he’s far from an expert in human behaviour, he still dares to consider that a good sign.  Progress at least,  compared to their last confrontation.  Not that he holds that against her.  He doesn’t.  Zeke had always been very aware he and Rolanda were from two different worlds. That their moral compass’ were on opposite ends of one another.  On paper, their friendship never should’ve worked to begin with and it was only a matter of time before she realised that.  If anything, it’s expiry date came later than expected.  That said,  expected or not,  he can’t pretend there isn’t a slither of relief that washes over him when gesture appears to be accepted rather than ignored.  His ass must be going soft in his old age.

He drank in silence for the next few moments, caught somewhere in between wanting to speak, but not wanting to push his luck.  They’re still standing on such thin ice. Any wrong move could crack it beneath their feet and Ezekiel would find himself plummeting right back at square one.  How odd, that a man who used to consistently put himself in life - threatening situations, just for kicks, now felt caution towards something as basic as conversation.  It’s that realisation that has him rolling his eyes at his own pitiful self.  Throat cleared and he finally tilted his head in Rolanda’s direction, faint smile tugging at just one corner of his mouth.   ‘ You look nice. ’

....

if ezekiel had just been another hit wizard that had showed up that day and then disappeared like was the usual, rolanda maybe wouldn’t have cared when the rumours came out. after all, he would have no obligation to a stranger and she might not even remember his name. however, he hadn’t been just another member of magical law enforcement. he had started as an acquaintance who understood and then somewhere along the line. her closest friend. there was obligation and there was care and there was trust. maybe, she should had spoken to him about it because of their history but it was their history that made her pull away because maybe the truth would hurt just a bit too much.

standing opposite him, part of herself was cursing that decision and the other part was cursing her current decision not to just walk away. knowing that whatever she did, she most likely would still be debating it the moment she had a chance, she chose to stay. it was both the easiest and the hardest thing to do. “thank you.” without realising, her hands brushed the sides of her skirts, making them shift and dance just a little. “so do you. very sharp.” the extra compliment left her lips before she could really stop it. she wasn’t lying though, he did look infuratingly sharp.

“Too distracting, eh? What makes you say that?” Lorcan’s brows raise high on their forehead, an amused smile tugging at his mouth, the tips of his fangs peeking out just behind their lips. They wants to say they’re always open for a little criticism, though when faced with it, that was another story. Still, they were curious. Lorcan brings their drink up to their mouth, takes a long sip to keep themselves from laughing. A fan? Godric, if they only knew! “Music is my entire life, darling,” They say instead, keeping themselves a mystery. “There’s a song for every mood. It keeps the world going, wouldn’t you say?”

“the fact that it is? i can’t read if i have another set of words coming in through my ears” rolanda stated simply. she closed her book now, resigning herself to the fact that this conversation most likely wasn’t going to end anytime soon. “that’s beautiful really. i’d say that stories do the same thing and what is music but a way to tell a story?” she asked, taking a sip of her butterbeer. 

rolanda had thought about getting a tattoo before. every so often, she’d think that maybe she should get something to immortalise the families she had lost. every time though, the thought was brushed away, because nothing really did those people justice. what could represent the ferocity of her mama? the gentle warmth of her ma? or will’s dry humour? or adam’s toothy little grin? what could represent what those people had meant to her? for a long time,, it had seemed like nothing could?

today, she thinks she might have found something and there is only one person she trusted to do it. lavender brown. the sweet girl who had known that little boy and had seen the photos of the others. the sweet girl who had taught her how to do a crown braid because even as an adult, ro couldn’t make her fingers do what she wanted them too? lavender was different now, she knew that and it broke her heart but in some ways, it didn’t change anything.

she stepped into the tattoo parlour, trying not to think too hard about how this was certainly not an area she felt all that comfortable in. “excuse me? is lavender brown on shift?” 

.

Lorcan can’t help the laugh that escapes their lips, their head even tipping back a bit–Godric, were they really that unrecognizable? It must have something to do with the rise and fall of their fame. A shiver ran down their spine momentarily–has Lorcan become so irrelevant their greatest hits were unidentifiable? “Of course I know the name,” Lorcan replies, amusement in their tone. Perhaps there was power in being nearly anonymous. “Necks To You, babe. It was quite popular back in the day, I’m surprised you don’t know. Not a music fan, are we?”

.

rolanda quirked a brow at his response to her words. what ever was so funny? in a few hours perhaps, she’d most likely figure it out and kick herself for not paying attention properly. “curious name. It’s familiar but no, not really. it’s too distracting. just a personal opinion though. i’d say that you’re fan then?” she never had been very good at recognising music in the wizarding world, listening more to muggle music if she listened to anything at all.

“thank you!” dennis replied with noticeable enthusiasm, madame hooch was the only person who had been remotely appreciative of his job the entire night. it felt good. he didn’t say it thought, he thought that would be a little too pathetic. “i appreciate it,” he smiled, as he raised his camera, before taking a step back. “say cheese!”

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:   the ministry of magic   ! 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆:   @dmndmyth​   !

“they’ve really outdone themselves, this year,” narcissa remarks, gazing around the done up atrium with obvious appreciation for what she finds. she had only the previous year to compare to  ( had been invited out of courtesy to all previous, the offer declined by the house elf until such a time as she deemed it appropriate to return to society in such a way ) but couldn’t deny that it was a huge step up from what she’d seen, there. “of course, that’s to be expected. antonin is a man of taste-” she glances towards rolanda and adds, thoughtfully, “which is something that someone like yourself wouldn’t know, isn’t it, rolanda? have you ever had the pleasure of meeting the minister?” 

Time was a strange thing.  Sometimes it went too slow,  like tonight.  Ezekiel felt as though he had been trapped in this suit for centuries,  when in reality,  it had been mere hours.  Possibly even less.   —   Other times,  however,  it seemed to all but disappear in the blink of an eye.  He can remember,  clear as any picture Dennis Creevey had captured tonight,  the last time he saw Rolanda.  Their final conversation felt like only yesterday,  when he knew in reality,  it had been far longer.  Too long,  the Ministry - man might even argue.   —   Not a single person would be surprised to learn that Zeke didn’t have a lot of acquaintances and he had even less people he would willingly call friend.  Communication was far from his strongest skill,  but somewhere down the line,  a bond between him and the Quidditch coach had formed.  Enough that a part of him had,  uncharacteristically,  missed her company during their time apart.  Whether she felt like the same is yet to be seen.  For two people once so close,  they didn’t part on the best terms.  It’s because of this that he hasn’t rushed over.  Instead,  he’s hovered at a distance,  attempting  (  failing  )  to plot the best approach.  If there even was a best approach. 

An opening presents itself when observant eyes spy a drunken individual bothering her.   —   Or at least,  Ezekiel assumes they’re bothering her.  There is,  of course,  a chance Rolanda might be enjoying their presence.  Deciding to take the risk,  he quietly orders a drink he knows she likes before heading over.  It takes one,  silent look from Zeke to scare persuade the other guest to leave them and glass is placed down on the table beside his old friend.  He didn’t speak.  Words had always been a rarity between them and right now,  the relationship felt too fragile to risk saying the wrong thing.  Better to just present an olive branch in action,  nudging that carefully - chosen drink a little closer.  If she accepted,  Zeke would know not all was lost.  If she declined   —   well.  He’d survived worse rejection. 

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:      the ministry of magic  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆:      @dmndmyth​

.

rolanda understood why the gala had been created. after all, the past few years (or few decades if you asked some people) had been particularly horrific and people needed something to look forward to after that. on a completely logical viewing of things, it made sense.  what was better then being given a reason to dress up and see people you usually were to busy too? however, in other sorts of viewings, she hated it. sometimes it felt almost like a celebration of a victory by which the ministry, frankly, had nothing to do with. it felt self-serving. that was the word for it.

she supposed she was a little hypocritical as she was still here, making the best of it. another reason to regret was standing right next to her however, drunkenly flirting and drunkenly believing that she would actually want to go home with him. still sorting through words to find the exact right ones, a familiar figure did an oh so familiar thing and scared him off. zeke was very good at that.

once upon a time, she would have thrown him an easy smile and made an easy tease. however, things weren’t easy anymore, even though amongst all the horror and all the hardening her heart had done because of it, he had remained easy. when everything had come out and in her fit of fear and fury, she had confronted him for it, things seemed so clear cut. things often were when you didn’t think about them for very long. she had indeed thought about it though and her conviction was no longer there. perhaps it was a silly sliver of hope but either way, she silently took the glass he offered her with a nod of thanks.

LOCATION: the seventh annual ministry gala PARTICIPANTS: dennis creevey & open ( @startertms​ )

“can i take your picture?” dennis asked, a wide smile plastered across his face as he held up his camera. “it’s for the daily prophet,” he added, even going as far as flashing the press credential pinned to his jacket. it wasn’t necessary, but the badge made him feel official, he liked showing it off. “so, what do you say?” he continued, this time arching an eyebrow as he waited for their answer. when the night was over, his camera roll would be full of candids, he always liked to squeeze in a few posed shots. 

“Madame Hooch!” He says by way of greeting, shooting his former professor & coach a LOPSIDED grin – “You’re looking splendid this evening, might I say.” They’d always liked Madame Hooch – quidditch had always been an opportunity for George to release their pent-up frustrations ( they’d quickly learned there was no better way to dissipate anger than by smashing a bludger out of the sky ), and Hooch had always been patient with him and Fred as a coach ( looking back on it, he’s fairly certain that the pair of them would have had to have annoyed her half to death, but she had never let this show… too thoroughly ). Though it was still strange seeing professors from Hogwarts out in the ‘real world’ ( even though it had been almost a decade since they’d last been a student there ), it was nice seeing a friendly face here.

“I s’pose you’re right.” He says, “It seems especially strange this year, though. Maybe it’s the new guy,” He gestures in the vague direction of where they’d last seen the new MINISTER FOR MAGIC – someone they knew ( admittedly ) little about, but someone who they were fairly certain couldn’t be entirely trusted. “But I swear we had better seats last time, don’t you? Right up the front.” They shrug, “Then again, I’m happy to not be too close to all those Ministry officials, they’re always quite boring.” George laughs, “They’re free drinks, Madame Hooch. Better than that, actually – Ministry-paid drinks.”

rolanda couldn’t help the smile that george’s antics caused. while she was never supposed to have favourites, if she did though, fred and george weasley would have been quite high on that least. they drove her absolutely mad on more then one occasion but they reminded her so much of the antics her friends pulled in her own hogwarts years, that she could never find it in her heart to think bad of them. besides, they made some very slow days, very amusing. “you might say and i might say that you look rather dashing yourself. molly must be absolutely preening.” there was that familar tug in her heart at thought of mother and son. however, she was quite good at hiding such uncomfortable feelings.

ᴡʜᴏ : george weasley & open ( @startertms ) ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ : main atrium, ministry of magic ᴡʜᴇɴ : august 18, 2021 – seventh annual ministry gala

In all honesty, George hadn’t quite expected the annual ministry shindig to go ahead this year – what, with the ( rather rude and uncalled for ) cancellation of Harry’s holiday just a few weeks ago, he’d been quite surprised to receive his annual invitation to the event in the mail. Truthfully, while many people seemed to clamour at the opportunity to attend ‘the event of the year’, for George, it was very much a take-it-or-leave-it sort of affair, attended mostly out of obligation than authentic excitement. They’d long chafed at the rigidity of the Ministry ( and especially so with this latest regime ), and the celebration often served as a haunting reminder of all that had been lost. People tended to fawn over the survivors of battle like heroes, though, even now, seven years on – George didn’t feel much like one. 

Still, they knew it would appear odd if they didn’t make an appearance – and while they didn’t particularly love the Ministry itself, the building was exquisite, and he would never be the type to pass up an opportunity for free food and drinks. So, he had donned his nicest suit ( completing the look with smiley-face cufflinks so as to not appear boring ), and rolled up to the event with a smile on his face and one of his best friends at his side ( ‘people had better notice our colour-coordinated outfits,’ he’d said, prepared to simply grin and bear it and maybe have some incidental fun. 

“Is it just me,” He says to the nearest person in the vicinity of his table – where he has taken up residence with a pint in one hand and a cocktail in the other, “Or did these things used to be a lot more fun?” A pause, before they continue, “Weird atmosphere in here tonight. Then again, I can’t quite remember how many of these,” He holds up his drinks, “I’ve already had.”

rolanda still wasn’t entirely show how she felt about the ministry galas. on one hand, they could be a good deal of fun if one were with the right people and ignored the wrong ones. on the other hand, it felt still too soon to be celebrating what was still a very fragile peace. whatever side each gala fell on, she always made sure to dress up as if she knew she would love it. therefore, if the whole night went wrong and she ended up hating it, at least there would be one good thing about the night - how brilliant she looked. this year was no different.

the worst thing about the summer break was the amount of time rolanda had on her hands. once she started leaving hogwarts and venturing back out into the world, everyone else then started having to deal with ro popping up at random times purely because she wanted something to do. there was only so many times one could fly around the pitch and chase the snitch, even for her. being left with nothing to do meant that her loneliness and her grief could make themselves heard and even now, ro would not have it. so here she was at yet another ex-students place of work to check in on them. this was josie though and while she wasn’t one for favourites, josie definitely was a favourite.

holding a box of muggle pizza, she made the walked the ever familiar path through the ministry to find josie. once she did, she smiled widely, holding up the box of pizza. “have you taken a lunch break yet?” @jodiggory​ 

“if anyone thinks that greece has a chance at getting any higher then the bottom of the leaderboard this season then they’re idiots” ro declared as she went about making two cups of tea. “since greece lost their keeper last season, they’ve been floundering. us seekers are very important but not so important that you don’t need a keeper who at least occasionally blocks goals. honestly.” she accentuated the end of her rant by all but slamming oliver’s tea cup on the table infront of him. “that coach has absolutely no brain power, i swear to merlin.” with a sigh, she sat down opposite him. “you guys seem to be going pretty good though.” @qviddiitch​

starter: open || @startertms​

location: streets of diagon alley

“ move to london they said, nothing too crazy happens here. ” Gabrielle murmured to herself as adjusted her violin case as she walked through Diagon Alley after leaving from her gig. the thought of moving here was one she had for a while but the thought of travel was something she wanted to always do. but now here she was and so much has happened that she wonders if its best. her mom had mentioned she should go back to France but here was her sister. and it had been a while since she last saw fleur. lost in thought, she didn’t even notice she had almost managed to hit someone with her instrument case until it was too late. “ sorry, are you okay?  ”

forty-two years old and still, rolanda hooch could never get over the joy and childlike marvel that overtook her in quality quidditch supplies. of course, it was tinged with grey like most things were but even still. the grin remained on her lips as she walked out of the store, holding a new snitch in her hand. one could barely count the number that she had bought over the years. she was just about to let it fly for a moment when an instrument case hit her leg. immediately, her hand closed over the gold sphere. “no harm done,” she responded, placing the snitch safely in the pocket of her red robes. “is the instrument okay? a violin is it?” a rough guess from the shape of the case. william had had one just like it.

The music overhead could barely be heard over the light chatter inside the Leaky Cauldron, but Lorcan could make out the lyrics clearly. A relic from an era of their long life, when their music career reached a new height–Necks To You the album was a result of dabbling in different genre’s and styles, an art Lorcan has perfected decade after decade ( he has been on the charts for years–a seasoned artist ). And it is most humbling to have one of his greatest hits playing overhead in a local bar. Lorcan’s gaze locks with another patron at the bar, sitting a few seats away.. A smile spreads on Lorcan’s lips. They lift their glass to them ( a literal Bloody Mary ) as a nod, a toast–“Don’t they have just the best music here?”

most of rolanda’s time was spent at hogwarts these days (despite i, yet sometimes even she needed a change of pace and usually diagon alley was where she searched for it. besides, if one wanted different, they need not look further then the leaky cauldron. today, she was sat the bar, nursing a butterbeer as she read a book. she was so focused that she almost missed the glass that was raised to them. reluctantly, in a desire not to be rude, she looked up from the words and let her eyes land on her fellow patron. “it’s alright, although i don’t pay particular attention to it.” for a second, she listened to the music, properly. “do you know the name?”