rose colored boy.

❝ i am heart and breath and skin and bleed. sometimes tornado, sometimes lullaby ❞ 

{ cis man, he/him } huh, who’s JUSTICE SMITH? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually FELIX WEASLEY-JORDAN. he is a TWENTY ONE year old HALF BLOOD wizard who is A REPORTER FOR THE QUIBBLER & SHOPKEEP AT WWW. he is known for being EMOTIONAL, STUBBORN, HEEDLESS, INCONSIDERATE, and SELF RIGHTEOUS but also AMIABLE, PASSIONATE, TRUSTING, CREATIVE, and DYNAMIC, so that must be why he always reminds me of the song PRINCES OF THE UNIVERSE BY QUEEN and WIPING SWEAT OFF A BROW, STIFLED LAUGHTER, SLINGING A GUITAR OVER YOUR SHOULDER, STRIPED JEANS, DOODLES ON HANDS, THE EXCITEMENT THAT COMES WITH BREAKING RULES, CRYING EASILY AND WITHOUT SHAME. i hear he is aligned with THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX, so be sure to keep an eye on him. 

          “          it  is  .  it  is  messed  up  .          ”          if  there’d  been  any  possible  comfort,  she’d  try  to  give  it  to  him  .  as  the  oldest  cousin,  she's  always  felt  it’s  her  job  to  help  .  to  soothe  .  but  it’s  difficult  to  soothe  when  she  can’t  even  soothe  herself  .          “          do  you  feel  like  getting  some  air  ?  i  think  i  need  a  break  from  all  …  this  .          ”          she  waves  her  hand  at  the  scene,  offering  an  escape  .  although,  it’s  as  much  for  her  as  it  is  for  him  .  she  doesn’t  think  she  can  spend  one  more  second  feigning  pleasantries  with  traitors  .          “          what  do  you  say  ?  allons  -  y  ?          ”

She gets up with him, not quite ready to let go of his hand, even though she KNOWS she should. but she can’t, so she doesn’t, if anything, she tightens her grip. Her legs feel SHAKY and her mind FUZZY, it’s trying to process so many emotions at once she’s sure she will EXPLODE. FUCK, she needs a smoke, but that would mean having to let go, to break up this moment. She missed him, this is probably the most they have spoken since she broke up with him. you broke up with him, let go. but she can’t, she won’t, not even as they leave the hustle and bustle of Trafalgar square and slip into the privacy of a quiet side street. ‘‘ I - I don’t - i feel, broken. inside. ’’ too much, too much information. let go of his hand, let him go, Pippa. ‘‘ sorry, i mean, yeah. ’’ 

I feel broken inside. What now? The plan was to help her calm down, to help her feel safe enough to go on with her day and he with his. Nothing more. Anything more would only confuse them, would only make things more painful than they already were. But he couldn’t just ignore that.  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. He wanted to help, wanted to take those broken pieces and glue them together. He wanted to hold her. He wanted, but he stayed frozen. He only spoke. Talking, talking: that was all Felix seemed good for. Comforting words, funny words, sad words. Empty words. “Pips ...” He held on tight on her hand. This was wrong. This was going to break his heart all over again. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

“oh, my elbows, of course.” paris says it like she’s breathless, like the answer is obvious and in a hurry to escape her lips. she knows how to be funny, knows how to use wit. “they’re pathetic.” she’s taught herself to be quick, sharp, to have an answer. some people are less threatened by a girl who’s a little funny, who seems like she might be a little bit unintelligent. others are impressed by someone with such a quick answer. but for now, it’s enough to just know it’ll make felix laugh. she may not have much of a heart, but she’s got enough to want that.

she stares carefully at her drink, not wanting to push him too far. he’s a kid, fragile, hurting. there’s no use to this grief. “dad liked him. a lot, i think. mum, too. he was always… kind, to our family. even if they weren’t awfully close to him once i was born.” paris has always wondered whether her parents’ lives would have been more dedicated to the old cause for equality, had she not existed. would her father have merely wanted to put it all behind him still? or would he have been pulled back into the fight? she nods. “he deserved longer. and he deserved happiness. that much the world ought to have afforded him.”

Felix cocks his head, trying to inspect the other’s elbows for a moment. He takes a moment to judge them before straightening his head and shrugging. “I think they look fine, but perhaps they’re deceitful elbows.” A small smirk plays on his lips. “If you ever cross me, I’ll remember this information, though. Got you there.” He’s hardly capable of revenge, it not being something that comes natural to him. He’s sure Paris knows that.

Where: The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade Who: Katarina + Felix.

“I know it’s my job,” Kat began, speaking to the person nearest her at the bar. She’d gone to at least 15 muggle residences in one day and it seemed a bit much. “But if I have to go erase another muggle memory today I might quit on the spot. How are people making so many mistakes?” They were such little mistakes, but apparently large enough that the muggles would know it was something out of their ordinary and not just assume it hadn’t really happened.

the days we going by and the months were growing colder. there was a dull ache that sat deep and heavy in her chest. how did one move on when you lost not only a child but the love of your life? it made no sense. when the grief truly hit one would think all the beauty the veela held would turn ugly, yet it was the complete opposite. in some sick and twisted way the grief and pain almost made her even more attractive. either way all gabrielle knew was that she had to remain strong for the rest of her children. she had to keep her head held high and the smile on her face. she would be damned if she didn’t keep up some sort of happy appearance for the sake of her children.

shaking her head as she made her way through weasley’s wizards wheezes she pondered what to get her children. the holidays were vast approaching and she knew that she had to get started on shopping for each of them. she had been so lost in thought, one simple wonder witch product in her hand, completely in a daze that she didn’t even hear the voice off to her left. “oh.. my apologies chère, what were you saying?”

Of course, plenty of familiar faces came into WWW, and it was one of Felix’ favourite parts of the job. These days, though, it was often rather conflicting when acquaintances, friends or even family members came into the store. The place was supposed to be a beacon of mischief and fun, but so many lives had been painted dark with the looming war. He ached, seeing how their expressions had changed. How some seemed desperate for a bit of fun, and others looked at him with pity. 

Pippa looks down at the hand that is now enveloping hers. it’s such a small and simple gesture, yet it causes butterflies to hatch in her stomach. She wants to pull away, to stop this, to make him get up and walk away, to pretend they don’t know each other on such a personal level, to force him back into the locked box at the back of her mind, rarely opened, infrequently visited. but she doesn’t, instead, she feels her hand tighten around his, and her breathing begins to steady as she focuses on the warmth that creeps from their connected hands to her chest. ‘‘ y - yes. ’’ it’s barely audible, and she’s not even sure what she’s saying yes to. ‘‘ please. anywhere. ’’

The touch of his skin to hers is enough to madden Felix, but he keeps his head cool. There’s something more important to do, after all. He gets up, and pulls her up with him. “C’mon then,” he says, as he starts moving through the crowds, keeping her close. The proximity of their bodies makes a part of his mind he has no control over run rampant, ringing both celebratory and alarm bells. She dumped you, he reminds himself, you are in no shape to get your heart broken again. But the idea that she once did, is something he can’t quite fathom. Besides, who is he to think of such things now? Pippa needs help, and that’s all that matters. They move, quickly, Felix eyes flicking to Pippa every now and then, and end slipping in a quieter side street. He still holds her hand. “You holding up okay?” 

she’s  mostly  leans  to  the  side  of  the  room  tonight  .  it’s  a  joyous  occasion,  and  she’s  pleased  that  her  aunt  is  receiving  the  accolades  and  title  she  deserves,  but  the  timing  and  the  climate  of  the  event  is  too  tense  for  the  healer  to  enjoy  .  so,  she  sips  a  flute  of  champagne,  and  studies  the  scene  of  people  both  in  celebration  and  mourning  .  she’s  so  distracted  by  the  scene,  she  barely  notices  her  cousin,  jumping  in  surprise  at  the  sound  of  his  voice  .          “          oh  !  felix          —          ”          she  acknowledges  in  relief,  happy  that  it’s  family  that  happened  upon  her  and  not  some  random  acquaintance  .          “          you  don’t  look  so  bad  yourself  .  but,  yes,  definitely  strange  .  actually,  strange  might  be  an  understatement  .          ”          she  sighs  as  her  eyes  look  out  at  the  room  again  .  silently,  she  can’t  help  but  consider  how  many  of  these  people  aren’t  here  to  celebrate  their  aunt’s  appointment  .  

he wears his grief like a cloak - or, at least, that’s how it seems to paris. it makes sense - he’s the type to care, and even if her own family hadn’t become entangled in the weasley-potter clan, shacklebolt’s definitely was. there’s also the fact that his uncle was harry potter, of course. too many blows at once, for someone as emotional as felix appears. she puts a hand on his shoulder - she is sympathetic, but she gets the sense it’d be best to appear even more so than she normally would. 

“hm?” she raises her eyebrows, grinning as though she’s heard a muttered joke. “they’re the strongest part of me, felix. remember that.” she says lightly, hoping it will at least draw a little happiness into his rather down demeanor. she nods in understanding, eyes flitting across the room. half filled with mourners, half filled with likely celebrators of kingsley’s death. “it’s… it’s a tough one. hard to be happy for the new minister in such awful circumstances. it seems as though kingsley touched everyone’s life, in some way.”

He manages the smallest smile at that. Felix is good at jokes, he likes jokes. They ease tension, allow people a space to breathe during evenings like this. He remembers Harry’s funeral. How, when he hadn’t been crying, he’d been trying to make people laugh. “I will, but now I’m curious: what’s the weakest part of you?” He gives a grin, raises an eyebrow. “For the record, my strongest part is my hair. For obvious reasons.”

“Yeah. I used to see her every day, even if we weren’t together, and now I’m lucky to catch a glimpse of her every now and then.” He shrugs. “You can’t have someone in your life a lot and then not miss them when suddenly they’re not part of it any more. So of course I do. It’s only natural. Besides, have you fucking met her? She’s worth missing.”

He frowns. “Doesn’t everybody? I mean, I always thought that was just part of the human experience.” Felix shrugs his shoulders. “But yeah. I mean, I don’t want to sell the people I love short, but I sometimes worry I love too deeply and that they can’t return such feelings.” A moment, he thinks. “Like Archie. I think I loved him too much, and yeah, we were just bloody kids, but still. I think it scared him, or something. I don’t think I mind loving people more than they love me, but I don’t want love to be something that scares people, that’s all.” // ft. @archiefairfax

“I mean, yeah. Wars are fucking terrifying, who knows what it will do to people. For myself, I feel... I dunno. Pretty secure in who I am, and where my morals and limits lie. I don’t worry as much about me as I do about others.” He shrugs. “Like James? Lily? Fuck, mate. I mean, I get it if they’d go off the deep end, with all that’s happened. But I just hope they don’t lose themselves. And Pippa and Archie too, man. Shit. I’ll try, ya know, to do what I can, but I know that I’m not that powerful.” He’s quiet for a second. “Or do you mean lose them as in death? ‘Cause that’s already happened, mate. My uncle’s fucking dead, and so is my cousin. So yeah. I’m bloody scared of losing them.”

He doesn't hestitate. Even without veritaserum, he knows the answer. “Yes.” A beat. “Feelings like that don’t just go away, y’know? They stick with ya. Especially when you’re me.” He grins guiltily, sadly. “I - yeah. I’d say I still love her, actually. Kinda pathetic, but yeah. Love kind of sucks.”

Her eyes are squeezed shut, her mind running, her breathing heavy. She wants to ground herself, she wants to be ANYWHERE BUT HERE. she wants to be five years old playing hide and seek with her cousin at Malfoy manor, she wants to be eleven and sitting at her first Hogwarts feast, she wants to be sixteen, sitting by the black lake with Felix. SHE DOESN’T WANT TO GO TO WORK. SHE DOESN’T WANT TO GO TO WORK, she doesn’t want to have to look the people she knows and loves in the eyes knowing she has contributed to their HURT and UPSET. she has spent her whole life trying to make others happy, only to fail at the start of adulthood.

and then a simple touch combined with a familiar scent close enough to taste sends fireworks in her chest and an entire fucking zoo in her stomach. For just a moment her heart stops and her body relaxes as if on reflex. EYES MEET and it feels like WARMTH has been injected into her veins - but the feeling of security lasts mere seconds before her brain starts up again and the voice in her head is SCREAMING at her. you hurt him. you’ve broken him. you helped kill his family. you you you. and she has to close her eyes again just to shut it up. ‘‘ I - ’’ but she doesn’t know what she wants, what she needs. ‘‘ I can’t - I don’t - ’’ words feel STICKY and THICK. ‘‘ I don’t want to go to work. ’’

He hates seeing her like this. Well, he supposes he hates seeing her period, not because he doesn’t like Pippa. But because he likes her too much, or even a little more than too much, if he’s entirely honest. It aches, to see her: when they were broken up before (which they have been a few times), it always felt like it was temporary. Now, the rift between them only seems to grow larger with every breath the war takes. And to see her like this, in pain, panicked, when he’s not sure where they stand but knows that they’re not as close as they used to be, it nearly wrecks him. But there’s no time to focus on his own turmoil, right now.

He helps her, because that’s what Felix Jordan-Weasley does. Even if it might complicate things further, even if maybe this is too intimate for his liking, even if it might break his heart again. “Alright,” he says. He takes her hand. The touch and movement are both startingly familiar, and he almost pulls back. He doesn’t, though, and gives her hand a soft squeeze. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Felix knows that things might be more complicated than that, but even then he thinks it’s that simple. They’re adults. “Do you want to get out of here, first? And then you can figure out what to do about work. We can go get some tea. Or go to my place.” The thought of Pippa in his little apartment is strange, but he wants to get her away from the crowds as soon as possible. “Whatever you want.”

where:  the leaky cauldron, diagon alley. who:  anyone.

it had been a few days since he arrived back the place he had once called home, he didn’t tell anyone that he decided to move back home due to something being figured out for work. he didn’t tell anyone that his job was changing from the never ending danger to something more stable and would keep him around for a bit longer. he didn’t tell anyone that he had a home here now and that he would be around far more than he once could be. charlie could only smile at the thought that he would no longer miss out on birthdays, weddings, christmases, big celebrations, there was nothing that he would miss now since he was stationed here back home. it felt so incredibly nice to be back home and even though he would never admit it out loud he was ecstatic to be here. it felt familiar and wonderful all at the same time and with this new arrangement he didn’t have to give up his love for family nor his passion for dragons. it all worked out.

the moment he brought the mug of butterbeer to his lips charlie heard the door open, tilting his head slightly he took note of the newcomer. he didn’t know what brought them to the leaky cauldron but he wasn’t going to object. he was more curious how long it was going to take them to realize that the dragon tamer was back home without notice.

Sometimes it baffled Felix how little hours there were in a day. Between his two jobs, his endless list of interests and the fact that the world was at war, he hardly had time for things like errands. Still, they had to be done, as he and Fred could hardly live off dry crackers that week. He was rushing into the Leaky Cauldron, determined to get into muggle London as quickly as he could without distraction. This was always hard: the pub often held interesting people, and Felix found it hard to not engage with plenty of them. 

Like today. Felix had to do a double take when he saw his uncle, and quickly forgot about his empty kitchen cupboards. “Holy shit,” he said, approaching Charlie. “You’re back in England?” He had always looked up to his uncle, thinking him the third funnest Weasley brother (his father and George being first and second, respectively). Felix sat down, not asking if he could, and beamed at him. “What’s good?”

She feels the uncomfortable slosh of liquid on her arm and torso before she registers the hit; it causes her to stumble, pulls her from her conversation with the Turkish Ambassador to Wizarding Britain, makes the grouping of wix around them gasp or hide laughter in golden flutes of bubbling champagne. Astoria whirls to find a crying young man as the culprit, and any barb or exclamation she was prepared to give dies before it reaches her mouth. They’ve only a few seconds before the shock wears off and the moment turns irreparably awkward, so Astoria nods at him, following his lead: “I’d hate to be unlucky in this moment,” she announces to those nearby, dry affectation leaking into her tone. It’s not her best line, but it’s enough to cut the tension and stop people from staring. 

Normally, she’d fix herself up and allow this young man to slink off wherever he intended, but she’s a high-ranking Ministry official at a Ministry event, and her sense of duty wins out. Astoria pulls the hands that are searching his pockets away from his torso and loops her right arm through his left, guiding him out of the grand arches of the ballroom and into the vast entry hall beyond. “I don’t trust you to keep sprinting through the crowd like that without causing a scene,” she explains under her breath. “And I happen to like Minister Granger enough to ensure that does not happen.” 

Well, this was awfully embarrassing. Felix did not recognise all the people Astoria had been talking to, but they looked important. The way they laughed sounded like how important people laughed. Hur dur dur. Felix glared at them through teary eyes, but tried to focus on Mrs Malfoy in stead. He liked her comment, her tone, and it settled some of the unease in him. “That would be very unfortunate, yes.” And then they’re away from there, Felix following the head of the Wizengamot like a lost puppy, all his energy focused on not stepping on someone’s toes and not crying. Too much.

“I wasn’t planning on –” He began, but he cut himself off. “Yeah.” Felix was well aware how this looked: him, all raw emotion, too wrapped up in it to even pay attention. He was sure that aunt Hermione would understand, but that wasn’t the issue. “I was on my way out when ...” He didn’t want to repeat what had occurred moments ago. Shame twisted his stomach, and he was sure that in weeks’ time he’d be able to laugh at it all. Now, though, he just felt shit. “You know. It’s just a bit much, is all.” He squeezed his eyes shit, tears leaking from them, still. There were many ways to cry, and doing it silently was just one of them. “So, er. Thanks.”