entranced, spellbound

"you're also alledging pure speculation, my dear. you know there are ethics and lines and i cannot just take your word for it. we print theories of course, but an outline of an idea. you may have actual news which i congratulate, but we need more information if we want it to succeed." rita couldn't believe she was holding mafalda's hand through this when she wasn't supposed to lift a finger. but she couldn't refuse a good lead or her little bird who had helped her in the past. "office affairs," she brightened. "that's something we can write about. see, i knew you had it. both of these are good leads, good points of a beginning. we have to add pressure to it now. that's how the best diamonds are formed."

"The Daily Prophet has an ethical backbone? Colour me surprised." Mafalda scoffed. "I could duplicate the records, I suppose, bring you a hard copy. But that'll take a little while. People are going to get suspicious if I start fishing through portkey records." She sighed. Here Mafalda was, bringing forward something genuinely newsworthy, and all Rita cared about were affairs? "Gossip about who's shagging who? Are we back at school?" She asked. "But, if that's what you want to know about, fine."

Alecto's expression didn't even falter when Mafalda mentioned the kidnappers. "You make a very valid point there" she hummed softly. "Assuming that he was, in fact kidnapped... personally, I don't believe men in general, so my bet is still that he's with his mistress somewhere in the mediterranean sea" she shrugged her shoulders simply. "I'm sure that must be better than no celebration at all, right?"

"Thank you. I tried saying the same thing to a woman in my Department the other day and she practically accused me of treason." Mafalda rolled her eyes. "Good point! That seems far more likely, in my opinion." She nodded. "Well, yes, I suppose it is."

"Honestly, what else do they want from us?" She shook her head in disbelief. Of course Alecto didn't go into details, because she didn't think saying what she truly thought would play in her favor. "So you can't go to your friend's birthday? That's fucked up..."

"And, in a way, aren't the Ministry playing into the hands of the kidnappers?" Mafalda wondered aloud. "I mean, why abduct the Minster? To cause fear and unrest. Doesn't locking us down just exacerbate that?" She asked. "Well actually she's decided to have a little party at her flat, but the principle still stands. Ridiculous."

who: alecto + anyone

"You're preaching to the choir." Mafalda replied. "Was supposed to go out celebrating a mate's birthday but now we need express permission from the Ministry to go and hit up a few pubs." She scoffed. "What a joke."

"emergency portkeys?" rita echoed as if trying on the words in her mouth if they had any weight of interest. she raised a blonde brow as mafalda prattled on. rita could already see themselves stumbling into a war conspiracy, which could be a crime in and of itself. "do you believe that someone in the ministry is requesting these...emergency portkeys and are in tandem starting the crimes themselves?" it was all smoke and mirrors. already rita didn't report much on breaking news so she didn't know how much of use this would be. "what am i supposed to do with a theory? honestly, mafalda, i need more. and don't be shy about overhearing conversations. i do it all the time. it's the best way to gather information. make yourself small...or for you, i guess...smaller."

"I may be mistaken," she said lightly, "but I was under the impression that evidence of collusion between Ministry employees and Death Eaters constituted a newsworthy development. I've seen The Prophet print pure speculation, Rita. At least this has a paper trail." Mafalda took a sip of her drink. "I hear plenty. Usually it's about office affairs. The Department of Transport isn’t exactly thrilling. So when something like this turned up, I figured it might actually be worth something."

"i think it looks like an innocent man just walked out of the library because he loves to read and definitely wasn't thinking about stealing anything," he smiles back at mafalda. "so glad that's not what happened though." the house was big, bigger than anything he had stepped in that wasn't hogwarts or sirius' place. that was too grand for him even when he bummed it on the couch or a spare bed. "i suppose i was trying to find a balcony too, but got too distracted. mind finding it together? could use a break. yeah? it's amazing right? they should really open this room up. i couldn't give two shits about objects and art...this is the real good stuff."

"Well, if one goes missing, I won't tell." Mafalda said with a laugh. "Sure, two heads are better than one, right? Surely one of the bedrooms must have one?" She asked. "Right? Paintings and sculptures are for posh twats, books are way better. Imagine how many early or out-of-print editions they have in there!"

location: burke manor open to all!

"I'm curious, what do you think it look like?" Mafalda asked, a small smirk crossing her face. "Size of this house, am I right?" She laughed. "I was looking for a balcony for a quick smoke, but I ended up in here instead." She looked around. "It's kind of amazing, isn't it? A room filled floor-to-ceiling with books. It's the kind of thing I dreamed about when I was a kid."

Rita prided herself as being one of the first few people in the front lines for any sources. They were far and few but they came like little birds, flapping their wings to deliver any news. So when she got a message that someone had a tip, Rita could hardly wait. She even took the long way to the bar instead of easily apparating because she felt the good energy from her head to her toes. she saw the brunette witch at the bar and approached. "hopefully you didn't have too much fun without me," she smiled and took the seat next to mafalda. "so let's hear what your information is. you said it was important?"

"Not too much." Mafalda said, gesturing at the seat across from her. "We've been getting a lot of internal requests for emergency portkeys recently." She said idly, taking a sip of her drink. "Now, emergency Portkeys are supposed to be reactive. Someone's in danger, they need to leave, a request is made." Mafalda explained. "But lately, they're being requested in advance. By days, not hours, and almost always at or near places I'm seeing splashed across the Prophet in the following days. Sites of attacks." She swirled her drink. "So either a lot of people have gotten very good at Diviniation, or someone is getting information directly from the source."

Hestia turned around, fully facing the other with a nod. "He just might, but what is the point in different shapes and sizes for the same batch?" There was something serious there, mixed into her features and yet a smile that prevailed. There was something amusing about the idea of having to search the shelves for the labels and labels only. And something quite infuriatingly inefficient, too.

"Perhaps he gets bored?" Mafalda suggested, looking around the the bottles on the shelves. "Maybe it's a way to keep himself entertained. I suppose there's only so much excitement in a potions shop, isn't there?" She shook her head. "I can brew an alright potion, but I'd hardly call myself a potioneer. Probably wouldn't be here if I was totally confident making it myself."

the pub was packed to the brim and beck considered leaving already. but it was just enough noise to distract him from any loud thoughts. beck looked over the people in there, not one standing out to him for someone to pass time to talk. still, he secured a drink in his hand and leaned against one of the posts. he must have been standing too close to the table when he heard someone. beck looked both ways before glancing down to find a witch sitting there. "oh," he said, the word dropping out of his mouth in one single syllable. "what an invitation. it would be rude to say no to that," he said dryly. beck thought to refuse, but instead, he surprised himself by slowly sitting down. it was better to be off his bruised feet. "you can almost see everyone from here." it was a simple observation he said over the rim of his drink, his eyes scanning through the crowd of people. beck nodded towards one man in particular. "i'll bet they kick him out in five minutes. from the looks of it, he seems he can barely stand without being propped up."

His response was a little sarcastic, and for a moment Mafalda wondered if she'd been too short, before remembering that this was a dingy pub and she didn't owe anyone anything. He still sat though, so she couldn't have been too rude. "That's why I like it. People-watching in bar is a great time, makes me feel a lot better about my own life, that's for sure." She replied before giving a small laugh. "I hope so, he's been acting like that since I walked in."

Amycus laughed, it was not the first conversation he had engaged in about pyromania in a public location - the topic was a rather popular one at the moment with a society of Deatheaters trying to stand out in a crowd. It was the first time, however that he had found himself uncertain about whether either of them was being serious in their comments. The war had stolen an air of mystery from his interactions. "A pity then, it seems there is to be no private club. We will have to settle for a wizard owned venue as you say. The pyromania we will save for entertainment, and leave the ruins as a low-effort sort of art instillation instead."

"Well, I've heard that sort of thing is all the rage in art nowadays." Mafalda replied, like she knew anything about the fine art world.

open to all | outside J. Pippin's Potions

"I think he might, in different shapes and sizes, I mean." Mafalda replied. It made sense, she supposed. Different doses and all that. "As long as they're labelled it should all be fine, right?" She asked. "You keep it. I like to keep a stash of  invigoration draught for long days at work, but I think I've still got a few vials left."

"I haven't even thought about seeing it that way." Truly, if nothing else there was something of hers left behind for future generations to find later down the line. And she was very much in favor of that, especially with how crazy the world had become.

"It's more of a mark than I've left on Hogwarts, probably." Mafalda pointed out. It was more of a positive mark than she'd left, at the very least. "He has to be, right? It's not like ghosts can die again, there's nowhere else for him to go."

"There is no way you can out-drink me in twenty minutes!" Gilderoy protested even though she probably actually could. It wasn't his fault he was a bit of a lightweight. That was on his father, the man had no alcohol tolerance. "Well clearly they don't take after you. It's totally my influence."

"Oh! Challenge accepted! Come on then, lets do shots, we'll see how long you last." Mafalda teased. "Oh, of course. You don't influnce your own cats, but you influence mine? Next you'll be telling me it was my fault Sophie was sick on your shirt."