WINGED

⧼ oliver jackson-cohen, demi male, he/they / david, noah gunderson + running headlong into danger. embracing it and the way it burns at the heels of your shoes and singes the short hairs at the nape of your neck. the heat pricks its way across your skin and you revel in it. ; letting yourself laugh too loud, too long, until your ribs hurt with it. it’s better than the alternative. ; that heavy feeling of guilt that settled along your spine years ago. would you being there have changed anything? instead of thinking about it you wake up before the sun and work your hands to blisters.. ⧽ ━━ hey, isn’t that CHARLES ‘CHARLIE’ WEASLEY? i read a daily prophet article on them, once ; the THIRTY year old pure blood WIZARD is a GRYFFINDOR alumnus who has gone on to be a DRAGONOLOGIST. i’ve heard they can be quite BOLD & KIND, but i don’t know… they came off very AVOIDANT & STUBBORN in that interview. it really is hard to know what to believe these days though, isn’t it? [ bee, 22, est, they/them ]

“Oh, fuck. You have to be fucking kidding, motherfucker.” They don’t swear in public very often, hardly at all really. Kaz’s patience was running thin today and the line between surviving and wanting to have a breakdown in a storage closet was thin. Apparently thin enough that when their papers fell and the coffee fell not too long after, it was just enough. They finds someone just nearby to them, who unfortunately just watched. “Hello, - uh, - what spells clean up…all this?”

She’s somewhat relieved they aren’t the kind of person who finds the gesture from her cat bothersome. She’s crouched down low, Onyx making the effort to stay in close proximity to the stranger in front of her.  “Oh, sure. Just don’t steal him,” she jokes offering him up, Onyx letting out a small meow as he looks up at the stranger. “His name’s Onyx.” 

location: magical menagerie status: open

Sophie had brought Onyx with her to the pet store, her small well mannered black cat trailing behind her as she walked into the store. She often liked to do her shopping with him, her cat being very vocal about his needs. This time was no different, the girl browsing through the aisles. After stocking up on food for Onyx, she thought she would stop at the treat section. She stares at the different treat packets in her hands. “Alright, which one is it Onyx? Mackerel or turkey with valerian root?” She looks to Onyx but finds he has moved from the spot beside her. She spins looking for her companion and only stops when she spots the black feline rubbing against someone else’s leg, meowing and purring before he gets up on his hind legs, trying to climb up the stranger’s leg. ”I am so sorry… my cat’s a fucking slag.”  Sophie rushes to their side, pulling at her cat as he meows aggressively. 

“I know they have,” Josie says, keeping her voice low, “But this one seems especially boring.” Perhaps she was just trying to make herself feel better – by imagining her position as an ADMINISTRATOR as something far more interesting and exciting than it really was, and this presentation only served as a STARK reminder of the REALITY – that her work wasn’t what she really wanted to be doing with her life, but that it was safe and stable and kept a roof over her head, while anything else would be UNCERTAIN. “I don’t think I can stand to listen to it anymore, to tell you the truth.”

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

Large gatherings had never exactly been Josie’s forte – in fact, she would be far more comfortable right now back in her own apartment ( preferably in her room, away from even the prying eyes of her roommates ) with a book and a cup of tea. In fact, were it not practically a requirement for her to be there ( her boss had sat their team down earlier in the week, outlining the importance of their department’s representation at the gala, and the necessity of consequences for those who perhaps thought they didn’t need to be in attendance ). 

So, as she had done in previous years, Josie made the effort of attending the seventh annual gala – though it became immediately apparent that there was something off about this year’s festivities. Though she was sat with her colleagues, a quick scan of the room revealed her Dumbledore’s Army peers to be tucked away at the back of the room – Josie needing to crane her neck to see them. Perhaps she should have been offended by the display, but after the havoc they’d caused at Christmastime ( which Jo had, of course, been quite incapacitated during, the sting of betrayal by one of their own still sharp and fresh, mistrust always lurking just beneath the surface since the incident ), it seemed like a predictable retaliation – if not in exceptionally poor taste. 

Still, it hardly seemed to be Josie’s place to question the tension that seemed to run thickly through the room – instead going about her night with a strong sense of unease, smiling where she has to and engaging in idle chitchat with her colleagues and superiors. When it came time for her department’s presentation, she watched her boss present their work intently, though she couldn’t help but whisper something to the person beside her, “Merlin, does he have to make it sound so boring?” A shake of her head, “I swear it’s more interesting than it sounds.”

——; Public events were not on the list of things that Bill considered himself actively enthusiastic about. He had thought that with his particular skill in dodging such scenarios, the powers that be would have surely given up on getting him to make an appearance. He’d have preferred to stay at home pouring over pages that were relevant to his work rather than field off fake sincerity.

He reckons that with the way he and the rest of the ‘heroes’ are pushed to the sidelines upon arrival that it won’t be too long until the group are no longer welcomed in the ministry’s games. Despite his thoughts, Bill doesn’t miss the person next to him. “I’ll chew my own leg if something doesn’t kick off tonight” He states, using his drink to salute the person.

it’s somewhat comforting to know that they aren’t the only one TERRIBLY UNHAPPY to be here. charlie has never been one for SOCIAL FUNCTIONS - rather obviously, he likes to think ; someone doesn’t move to a remote dragon sanctuary because they want a full social calendar. they quite specifically have been out of town every year this day up until now - so they are, unfortunately, in attendance for another gala. at least bill ALSO looks miserable.

hélène laughed, the first genuine laugh to escape her lips in what felt like an eternity. it felt good, she hadn’t felt that good in a while. she thought about telling charlie, but she didn’t want to scare them away so instead she smiled. “you have a lot more faith in me than i’ve ever had,” she responded, “it would make quite a good story,” she admitted, almost as if she were actually considering it. “i take it, he wasn’t there for long?”

“Do not think I am so easy to fool. I will see right through that charade.” She says, chuckling. Of course, Fleur prided herself on her gift-giving – taking extra time at the holidays to pick out the perfect gifts for just about everyone in her life ( and, ever since Mrs Weasley had taught her to knit – she’d been toying with the idea of providing her husband’s family with matching beanies to go with their annual sweaters – though she wasn’t sure she was quite up to the standards laid out by her mother-in-law just yet ). 

“I never said that,” Fleur shakes her head, sipping again at the now pleasantly warm tea in her hands, “I am simply… yet to see evidence to the contrary.” She chuckles – tone remaining light and teasing. It was true, was it not? She’d only been to Charlie’s apartment a handful of times, and they had yet to properly decorate it – the place didn’t quite feel like a home, and Fleur would know – she’d spent years curating Shell Cottage. “Merveilleuse!” She says, clapping her hands together, “I have been waiting so long for you to ask me that. You have such a lovely space there – so much you could do with it, hm?”

“i don’t know,” they shrug, mischief sparking in their eyes and smile, “i’m a PRETTY GOOD actor, if i do say so myself.” charlie knows they aren’t, not really. they’re more like an open book most days ; terrible at masking how they feel unless in the more dire of circumstances. it’s both a GOOD and BAD thing. the mug is pushed back and forth across the countertop and they laugh.

hélène’s knowledge of dragons was minimal at best, she’d taken a care of magical creatures course at beauxbatons, but that had been thirty years ago and it hadn’t covered dragons. that didn’t mean she wasn’t interested in what charlie had to say, in fact she was quite excited to hear them talk about their passion, she just wasn’t sure she’d know what they were talking about.  “i’m sure i wouldn’t last ten minutes,” she admitted with a laugh, “that must be so exhilarating,” she landed on her choice with a smile, “has damien been to visit?”

“Friends and family discount?” George repeats, “I don’t recall that being an official Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes policy. Besides, if I just gave out discounts willy-nilly to all my friends and family, I’d be haemorrhaging money. This isn’t just a hobby, Charles, I’m trying to turn a profit, you know.” A chuckle escapes him then – perhaps the first breath George has stopped to take since he started talking. They’re only teasing, of course – if it meant Charlie would visit more often, he’d probably let them take whatever they wanted from the store ( well… at the very least, from the clearance section ), though they weren’t too sure what use Charlie would have for the assortment of goods stocked at Fred & George’s store.

Their eyes track down to Charlie’s hands, following the swirling lines of steam rising from the takeaway cups – no doubt holding a beverage hot enough to warm George up – the wintery chill in the air already starting to redden their nose and bite at their fingertips. Another wry laugh escapes them as they watch Charlie nearly drop the entire precarious arrangement ( they take a step to steady them, though it likely wouldn’t have done much good but ensure that George ended up covered in whatever was inside the cups when they fell ), “Normally I would’ve given you shit for that display, but you’re bringing me tea and scones, so I’ll let it slide just this once.” He says, hanging off the doorway and gesturing for Charlie to enter, “After you, and nice save, by the way.”

they pull a face in response to the ribbing, only just managing to stop short of childishly sticking their tongue out at george. it’s a CLOSE call. “you should make it official, then,” charlie shakes their head as if disappointed that it’s not already on the books. not like they really have much use for anything in the joke shop ; aside from perhaps bringing a handful of things back with him to romania next charlie visits to show the others there and brag about their little sibling. it wouldn’t be the first time - in fact, the other workers have ribbed charlie multiple times over the years for how much they speak about their family.

WHO: George & Open WHERE: Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes

Truth be told, when he and Fred had first opened the store, George hadn’t been entirely convinced of its longevity. They’d thought it would be fun, of course, and they’d hoped for a steady influx of customers each day – but it had always been FRED who had been convinced that the store would become a raging success. And, well, when Fred was convinced of something – there was usually a reason for that. Now, almost a decade after they’d first opened their doors ( a brief interlude in trading notwithstanding ), WEASLEY’S WIZARD WHEEZES was still going strong – albeit, without its co-founder here to reap the rewards of his efforts.

There had been a time where George wasn’t sure they would ever reopen the doors of the store ( multiple times, actually – though only in darker moments ), but giving up on the dream and walking away seemed somehow worse than continuing without their twin. He’d have wanted Fred to keep it going, were the situations reversed, wouldn’t he? They’re sure that if they’d continue to wallow in their own self-pity, Fred might’ve come back as a ghost and smacked them on the back of the head. So, the doors reopened, and George started running things on his own – though it was never quite as fun, he fell into a routine, and managed to keep the business alive in spite of the persistent feeling that something was missing.  

They’re punctual – more than Fred had ever been. The sign on the front of the store says the open at 10am, and so George ensures that, every morning, the door is unlocked at this time and ready to welcome customers ( except on Sundays, of course – when the store doesn’t open until 12 noon, they figure they’re entitled to a day of rest, thank you very much ). Granted, they don’t usually get much business this early in the morning ( somehow, shopping for joke devices never seems to be the first thing on people’s to-do lists ) – which is why George is surprised when he comes downstairs to open the storefront and spots someone out the front as he unlocks the doors. 

“Morning,” They say, leaning against the doorway, “You here to see me, or to have a browse? We’ve got a sale on anti-gravity hats if that tickles your fancy – fifty percent off or your best offer.”

@startertms

“do i not get the FRIENDS & FAMILY DISCOUNT anymore?” hands are shoved in the pockets of his jacket and charlie scuffs the toe of a work-boot on the stoop in a show of faux sheepishness. the bright grin across their face is more than enough to give away the fact there is nothing SHEEPISH within charlie weasley. not right now, at least. 

everything seemed to be going well so far, hélène thought, which was a good sign. though she knew better than to relax too much, charlie was important to damien which meant this meeting was important. nothing was going to ruin it. “please don’t apologize,” she reassured them, even allowing a small laugh to escape from her lips. “chamomile it is,” she smiled, flicking her wand, returning her attention to charlie as her kettle set about filling itself. “damien tells me you work with dragons,” she decided that their career would be a safe place to start, “you must tell me what it’s like!”

“Ça, alors! Just like a real adult.” Fleur chuckles – though she doesn’t doubt that Charlie has at least SOME basic life skills – they had been living in Romania for some time before she even met them, and she knew Molly Weasley wouldn’t let any of the children under her roof escape without learning at least some cooking. Teasing just came NATURALLY. “I believe you – but only because you flatter me.” She chuckles, leaning against the counter as she blows steam off her mug before sipping at it.

Fleur had not grown up with a BIG FAMILY – though she had always had Gabrielle ( and adored her more than just about ANYTHING in the world ), part of her had always WONDERED what it would have been like to have more siblings – perhaps she ENVIED Bill in this regard, though she also understood the RESPONSIBILITY of the oldest sibling, and knew that this was only amplified for Bill six-fold. Still, joining the Weasley family felt like Fleur was a touch closer to understanding what it was like to grow up in a big family, or, at the very least, what it was like to exist in one NOW.

“I will take you up on that soon. I’m not sure I have ever actually been inside of your apartment for more than a few minutes at a time. Have you decorated it yet, or no?” 

“tais-toi,” they laugh, shaking their head at the teasing and leaning back in their chair while taking a sip of scalding tea. “i’ll have to remember to boost up the flattery around holidays, then.” there’s something about fleur’s company, especially in the relative calm of shell cottage as opposed to the burrow, that amplifies charlie’s need to goof off a bit. maybe it’s just being in the vicinity of bill that lets them feel like a YOUNGER sibling as opposed to an older one.

hélène smiled, “it’s lovely to meet you too dear,” she responded, gently placing her hand on his arm. it was meant to reassure charlie, to calm any nerves they might be having. she wanted charlie to feel comfortable, part of the reason she had suggested tea in the first place. she had always felt her most comfortable when enjoying tea. “do you have a favorite kind?” she inquired, allowing her hand to return to her side, “i’ve always been partial to chamomile, but we’ll have whatever you prefer.”

they can’t stand to be in the castle any longer. it had only taken a glance at the memorial, at fred’s name carved there, to send them out - out of the hall, out the doors, out across the lawn. GRIEFGUILTSHAME chokes charlie and they make the mental note to call ojala and schedule a session with her soon ; it had SOMEHOW, IN THE CHAOS OF THE YEAR, slipped charlie’s mind to be sure and see his therapist before the anniversary. teeth sink into the inside of his cheek and charlie looks down at the smooth stone in their hand, a little pile gathered beside them. they scarcely remember doing it. “hey,” it takes charlie by surprise that their voice is so rough and they clear their throat, pull back their arm, and throw the stone. it skips across the surface a handful of times before sinking.

WHO: Fleur & Charlie ( @dragonw​ ) WHERE: Shell Cottage WHEN: April, 2021

WHEN SHE AND BILL HAD FIRST BECOME ENGAGED, FLEUR DID NOT GET OFF TO THE BEST START WITH HIS FAMILY. She knows now that the Weasleys are KIND people – that they are generous with their time, their love, and their spirit – but she had been surprised to be met with HOSTILITY when she had first been introduced to them. Perhaps it had been ARROGANT of her to expect to be greeted with immediate AFFECTION by her new family, but she could admit that she’d been somewhat TAKEN ABACK by their attitudes towards her. 

CHARLIE WEASLEY had been the outlier. Though she HARDLY cared what others thought of her – Charlie had been openly KIND towards Fleur, and this was something she’d held tight to, a memory that she still treasured though she’d since smoothed things over with the rest of the Weasley brood. Fleur was never quick to forget SLIGHTS against her, nor was she quick to forget KINDNESSES towards her.

“You know,” She says, as she hovers in the kitchen of SHELL COTTAGE, waiting for her kettle to boil – “I am starting to think that you only come here around tea time so that I will feed you – not for my outstanding company.” Fleur had worked the last three straight days at St Mungo’s, and was enjoying a well-deserved BREAK at home when she had been joined by Charlie. Though she pretended to be annoyed, she was ALWAYS glad for his company.

The kettle boils, and Fleur pours out the steaming water into two mugs, depositing a teabag into each one before sliding one across the counter to Charlie. Her husband will still be at work for the next couple of hours – by Fleur’s best estimate ( though it wasn’t UNCOMMON for him to become to wrapped up in what he was doing and return home much later – it was difficult for Fleur to be upset when Bill’s PASSION had been one of the reasons she’d fallen in love with him ). “Feel free to defend yourself.”

“AW, COME ON. i could always make myself tea, i’ve been doing it for years.” while it is not technically UNTRUE - charlie can cook for themself, thank you very much - the meals at the sanctuary had usually been spearheaded by someone else ; or charlie had at least had a set of helping hands when it came ‘round to their turn to take care of a meal. the cup is caught with ease as it’s slid across the countertop and they smile across the kitchen at fleur. “i’m here for the great company.”

it had seemed a no-brainer to like fleur. what is there not to like? a kind, intelligent, empathetic, and genuinely lovely person had fallen in love with their brother ; it’s the sort of addition to the family anyone would be lucky to have. charlie had immediately taken a liking to her the first time they met, charlie laden with gifts for family brought from romania but pitifully empty for fleur. taking her out to grab lunch and get to know her had been second nature.