hestia jones

-(Jurnee Smollett, Ciswoman, 37) did you see that person over there? that’s HESTIA JONES. they’re a PUREBLOOD and work as a CEO at MAGICK ENTERTAINMENT. honestly, they’re DEMANDING. i can tolerate them though as they can also be WITTY. they remind me of champagne problems and the sound of muffled loud music heard from inside a bathroom at a party. anyway, i heard they’re PART OF PATRONAGE. watch your back around them.

When: 1am Sometime in September Where: A Muggle Pub outside of the Ministry of Magic Who: Open!

The hour was late, to say the least, but Sturgis always got off work late. Late enough that he should want to go home and sleep but instead he walked from the Ministry sliding through the front doors of an out of the way muggle pub on the streets of London not too far away. One of those shitty little places that seemed to be always empty no matter where it was located. Probably because the drinks were terrible but it got you to the same place.

Drunk. That was really all Sturgis needed.

Besides, over the past year or so of finding this place he’d built up a rapport with the man behind the bar. He gave Sturgis as many drinks as he needed and they didn’t speak anymore. It was a great relationship.

At least it was a good place to wind down and sit quietly with his thoughts without the welcoming chatter, and friendly faces you’d be more likely to find at the Three Broomsticks, or some place of that sort. But the place sat close enough to the Ministry that he knew it wasn’t a completely unknown. So, when the door opened and he glanced over spotting someone who was definitely not a Muggle, he couldn’t be too surprised.

He gave a bit of a nod of acknowledgement, because he wasn’t completely unsocial, but turned forward taking a decisive and pointed drink from the whisky in front of him. Leaving it to the other person whether they wished to approach. Or, perhaps they wanted a night alone as well. Wishful thinking.

If you want to find Hestia late at night, you can usually find her at Hog’s Head. The seedy establishment is her go to. The one place she feels most comfortable getting drunk in, especially since she has a business relationship with them and everyone who frequents the place mostly keeps to themselves. Everywhere else is a no go. She’d rather drink at home alone than at any other place.

Today, though, she’s making an exception. Hog’s Head has closed its doors for the day due to some business Aberforth has to urgently take care of. And she isn’t really up for a night of drinking at home. Her supply of absurdly expensive wine has run out. Plus, she feels like watching some Muggle television while drinking and she doesn’t have a Muggle television. So the only real solution is to go to a Muggle pub.

She enters the pub and nods to the bartender before spotting Sturgis Podmore and his own nod of acknowledgement.

Sturgis Podmore is an old friend. They went on missions together for the Order, transporting people to safehouses outside of the country and keeping watch over the Ministry and what not. She knows him. So she feels obligated to talk to him when they see each other. Which is why Hestia saunters over to his spot on the bar and sits on the stool next to his. Flagging the bartender over to order her own glass of whiskey and ask for the television to be turned on.

It’s safe to say that Eser never planned her life to go this way – not that there was anything particularly bad about it but it wasn’t exactly what she had wanted either. All her life she had her life planned to a tee, though majority of it was planned by other people and she just sat by and let them do as they wish without much input. For a while she spent time being annoyed with them for controlling her life but she soon realised she had a part to play in everything and her silence was participation. So when someone told her that there was an intern position at Patronage that she would be suitable for she of course smiled politely as she was taught, and though she doesn’t remember the exact words she replied with, Eser imagined it was probably something along the lines of “Yes, I would love to” as the next thing she knows she’s getting an invitation for an interview. 

It wasn’t the worst job per se, and she was doing pretty well considering her circumstances a couple of months ago. But sometimes she just wondered whether she had made the right choice. Being an intern at 24, when she could have been an esteemed paralegal like her sister by now, just made her feel like she was a failure at life sometimes. Everyone around her seemed like they had everything figured out while Eser was barely keeping her head above the water. But at least on the flip side she was finally contributing towards the changes she wanted to see – making a change, or something like that. 

Her eyes were starting to see double from the massive stack of documents she had to go through and her concentration was starting to go, which meant she desperately needed a tea break and potentially a large dose of caffeine, either in a vat or an IV drip. As she neared the door, ready to head out to get her fix, she turned to the voice to see Hestia. Eser slowed in her steps, considering asking for a rain check in the hopes that she would forget about it later, but reconsidered. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to have coffee with the woman, it was just that she was a little intimidated by her. In all honesty, Hestia Jones was perhaps the one person Eser wished to be more like, just unapologetically herself. “The coffee here is truly awful. You could probably serve me dirty dish water and I wouldn’t know the difference,” she jokes as she sits down observing the new touches in the room, “I do love what you have done with the room. It was looking a bit drab in here. It was starting to feel a little prison like if you ask me.” 

-

“More than awful if you ask me,” Hestia chuckles, taking yet another sip of her coffee. Happy to have some funny company who agrees with her that the coffee Patronage serves is truly awful. It’s Patronage’s biggest flaw, their lack of care towards making the headquarters more liveable. And Hestia is hellbent on straightening out and fixing that flaw.

“This whole place does feel like a prison,” she nods. She agrees with Eser. Everything at the headquarter is so one-note and grey and boring and drab. Really sucks the souls out of people. Nothing about the rooms is exciting or inspires productivity. They’re not even modern. Everything in the headquarter looks like it’s straight from the 80s. All old and retro. “Between me and you,” she looks to Eser, eyes sparkling with humour. “If I don’t have change all this decor and all this decor stay the same, you wouldn’t catch me here ever.”

Hestia shakes her head. Just then, one of the renovators carries another table into the pantry. She watches them, making sure that they’re not going to drop the table or scratch its oak surface on the door of the pantry. When they finally place the table down safely, Hestia looks back to Eser.

rolanda laughed at hestia’s response, one that was blissfully expected and familiar. “which is why i’m the teacher and you’re not” she teased fondly. “some of them very well could be quidditch stars now that they’ve got past the initial fear. i think it’s easy to forget how scary flying can be, even to those that have grown up with it.” as tiring as it could sometimes be, there were few things that gave ro more pride then seeing her students fly for the first time, no matter how long it took or short the distance was. there was something quite beautiful about it.

even if they didn’t end up loving it, rolanda was a firm believer in the fact that all students should feel comfortable in a broom. it was practical thing to do after all and really, who didn’t like the feeling of beating a fear? if it took students are long time, then that was okay, she would wait.

“speaking of work, how’s it going? any big bashes to plan?”

-

Ro is right. Hestia has never had the patience Ro has. Or the optimism. Which is exactly why Ro is the teacher and not her. If Hestia were a teacher, let’s just say her class would not be popular. She’d be one of those teachers who gave low scores to everyone because no one in class met her high expectations.

“Will they be Quidditch stars, really?” she asks Rolanda, skeptical as always. “Flying is a talent. I bet there are kids out there who can fly right away! You could fly right away?”

She takes her cup of coffee from the table and takes a quick sip of it. As always, Puddifoot’s coffee is watery and light. Made to cater to teenagers whose stomachs hurt just from a single sip of black coffee. When Rolanda asks about the big bashes, Hestia shakes her head. “Last one got busted,” she shrugs. The last Night of Magick ended with Aurors bursting in. She had to call her lawyers to the Ministry that same night and their fees were exorbitant. “Gotta lay low for a while. Get the Aurors off of my back.”

all dead - when was the last time you cried?

"When I watched some sappy Muggle film a week ago. Somethin' bout animated fishes being reunited's kind of touching."

WHEN: 28th of September (thankfully not a hogsmeade weekend) WHERE: Madame Puddifoots, Hogsmeade WHO: Hestia Jones (who else?) @magickjones​

it was a familiar thing. the pair had been going to Madame Puddifoot’s since they had met so many years ago. It was a place that automatically brought about giggles and sometimes, that’s what was needed in ones life. The giggles only became louder when Rolanda started her work at Hogwarts. One saw the best parts of the place when taking a bunch of teenagers to Hogsmeade.

Thankfully, this was not one of those weekends and it was simply a catch up between two best friends. “As of this week, every single first year has hopped on their broom and flown at least a few metres. Took two weeks longer then last year but alas, every group is different.” 

-

Madam Puddifoot’s isn’t exactly Hestia’s taste. The place is gaudy, slightly distasteful, and too pink. It’s decorated specifically to cater to a certain demographic, teenagers on romantic dates. Hestia hasn’t been part of that demographic in around twenty years. Even when she was loitering around at Hogwarts and flirting up a storm, Puddifoot’s had never been her go to.

She only ever steps into the place for the irony of it all. To marvel at the one establishment in Hogsmeade that clearly knows its target audience and meets people’s expectations of what it will always be like. Really, she only ever goes with Rolanda. Because they both like to make fun of it. And because it’s always mostly quiet on the non Hogsmeade weekend days. It’s the perfect place to catch up. And they do serve pretty good macaroons. Not mind-blowingly good, but for British standards? Perfectly acceptable.

So here Hestia sits, across from Ro as she talks about the first years and their flying lessons. Bewildered by this year’s students’ lack of talent in flying of all things. “Two weeks?” she raises her left eyebrow, “At that point, none of ‘em are gonna be Quidditch stars.” She shakes her head.

where: patronage’s hq

The Patronage’s headquarters, for a lack of a better word, is humble. It reflects the faction’s grassroots nature. It’s small and it doesn’t have the amount of offices the other factions’ headquarters have. It looks more like an ordinary home than an imposing office building.

They’re still working on making it look more imposing.

Or at least Hestia is. Seeing as she’s the only member who cares about the aesthetics of their headquarters and branding. Seeing as she’s also the only one contributing to the headquarters’ renovations which she is also overseeing. The other members told her Patronage didn’t need a pretty office, that her money could be better used elsewhere. Hestia disagrees vehemently. In politics, your appearance matters. And her choice of faction isn’t going to be caught dead operating from a homely building.

This morning, the contractors she hired are renovating the pantry and lounge room. She’d bought Muggle coffee machines for the pantry, eliminating the need for the old, rusty (unsanitary) kettles everyone had been using to make their cup of coffee. She also brought throw pillows and a new sofa. The new sofa of which she is currently sitting on as she observes the contractors doing their magic and making the rooms look better than before. Hestia is just taking a sip of her coffee when she sees Eser Karaer, Flora’s twin sister or, more accurately, the Karaer sister who chose the right faction to join.

Astoria was a little taken aback by the obvious disdain in Hestia’s voice. She should be used to it, seeing as her parents adopted a similar tone if they ever tried to chastise her about her work. She thought, hoped, that Hestia’s feelings were coming from a different place however. Even if she disagreed with them. 

Patronage was a very different kettle of fish to TPF. Astoria had no issue with their approach to politics but she couldn’t see herself there. The Progressive Front were at the centre of it all, everyone knew them and what they stood for. Patronage was still a bit of a mystery to her, and according to polling data, to plenty of other people too. 

     “Yes, as an intern. I’ve only been there a year so,” she nodded, unsure why this seemed so surprising to Hestia, “Uh, no they don’t pay me. But I mean hopefully I’ll get a proper position soon and then…”

She never knew how to broach the fact that she basically worked for TPF for free. She knew she was in a very fortunate position to be able to afford that, to work for free and still not have to worry about money. A part of her knew it was wrong, knew it stopped other people from accessing the opportunities she did, but she was not about to throw away the one thing she wanted to do. For her, the broader mission made it worth it. At least that’s what she told herself.

     “I’m happy where I am, but thank you,” she said, firmly but politely.

-

Hestia has never felt her disappointment in a faction deepen as much as when Astoria told her that she is an unpaid intern of a year. She truly never thought The Progressive Front was that unprogressive. So unprogressive in fact that Astoria has spent a year there and still hasn’t been moved up. “A year and no pay?” she parrots her words, disbelief written all over her face. Her forehead scrunching up. “They’re doing you filthy there,” She shakes her head. “I know this is none of my business but when I have a part time worker around for a year, they’re gonna be full time next year.”

“They should give you a proper position!” Hestia continues to shake her head, feeling a little light-headed from the revelation that the one faction she dislikes continues to give her a reason to dislike it. She wonders how the media hasn’t lambasted The Progressive Front again for their non-payment. Are they telling their interns not to speak up? Or are the interns just “too grateful to be there” to say anything?

She looks at Astoria and sighs, folding her hands together. “Look, I hope, for your sake, you’re not at a dead end job with that faction,” Concern flits through her eyes, genuine. She’d hate to see someone, a woman especially, waste their time at a place that does not seem to appreciate them. “Cause I’d been at a dead end job. It wasn’t fun.”

borhap - are you happy?

“’Course, I am! I’m not dead inside! I’m happier than ever.”

mary - are you friends with any of your exes?

“A few of ‘em. I see them around, I say hi. I send some birthday cards if that counts. I’m too mature to be caught up in an ex’s business that much.”

misfire - do you want any kids? if so, how many?

“I want none. My schedule doesn’t allow for kids. Can’t handle babies and crying. I’m not very maternal either.”

killer queen - what’s an outfit that makes you feel sexy?

“Backless dress. Stilettos. A diamond necklace. Catchy earrings. And red lips.”

cupboard - are you petty?

“Yes. I hold grudges. Grudges are my little pets. I feed ‘em. I tend to ‘em. I stoke the fire. Keep them warm.”

There was a lot to hear in the way Hestia repeated Astoria’s words back to her. And it was immediately clear to see she did not approve of the career path she had chosen to follow. And she understood the sentiment, or at least she recognised it, having seen it in other people. People thought of corruption and backstabbing and back-room deals when they thought of politics. And Astoria wanted to tell her that what she did wasn’t like that. The Progressive Front were trying to make things better, trying to make sure that the Wizarding World would never slip back into the way things had been before. But she sensed this was neither the time nor place for a lecture.

     “Yes, you’re right,” impressed and pleased Hestia had correctly identified her allegiance. Most who knew Astoria, and more importantly knew her family, might have been tempted to place her in Primis with their penchant for tradition and conservatism. 

     “I work for them, as an intern.”

She was a little surprised when Hestia reached into her pocket and pulled out her business card. And more than a little satisfied with herself to have actually gained something from the interaction. She had a feeling Hestia was a good person to know.

     “Oh, thank you,” she said, taking the card and tucking it away in her bag.

-

Hestia doesn’t like to talk about politics much. Yes, she votes. She has opinions about the current Minister and everything (Robards was a school friend of some sorts). She likes nominating people for the Wizengamot seats. But talking about politics can be exhausting and controversial. The conversation can spin on its head.

However, trash-talking The Progressive Front is something she doesn’t shy away from. The faction has always rubbed her the wrong way. Their performative actions do not appeal to her. Their campaign and image do not hit with her. She isn’t impressed with the faction at all. “Oh, darling, Patronage’s always hiring,” she throws her hands up. “We’re very welcoming to new faces. I can hook you up.” She’s never been Patronage’s biggest recruiter but Hestia does have an affinity for screwing over TPF and poaching people from there for Patronage.

“An intern,” Hestia cannot believe Astoria is there as an intern. She thought no one wanted to intern for the tired, old TPF anymore after their non-payment of interns. It was a whole scandal. The newspapers covered it. TPF had to issue a statement on that. “They’re paying you? Or are they still not paying their interns?”

las palabras de amor - what’s the most romantic thing someone has ever done for you?

"Someone once got me on a Portkey to Berlin. Didn't give me a heads up or anythin'. I just went with 'em. They got reservations at this Muggle Michelin-starred restaurant. Then took me around town. Showed me places. Told me they loved me for the first time that night. Pretty romantic."

liar - are you good at sensing when someone is lying to you?

"I'm in a line of business that's just filled with liars and con artists. Of course, I'm good!"

It didn’t fit in with the image of a traditional pureblood wannabe socialite, but Flora enjoyed these sorts of things. More so than old Sluggy’s parties back at Hogwarts, at any rate. She was still young, after all, and shouldn’t let other responsibilities get in the way of some fun. Besides, if there was one person she trusted to throw a dubiously legal party and not let any of her guests to get into the sort of trouble that would cost Flora her career in law, it was Hestia Jones. Flora might have many reasons to silently judge the likes of Hestia Jones, but she also had many reasons to foster such a valuable acquaintanceship. Patronage was one of those things to silently judge but that didn’t mean there weren’t useful networking opportunities there, just as the illegality of the Night of Magick happened to mean that Hestia Jones knew some of the best lawyers around, the sorts of people Flora could only dream of being like for the moment. One day, she would be better than all of them, but for the moment she had to keep her cards close to her chest and keep silent about all her judgements while she networked like her life depended on it.

“Why can’t it be both?” Despite herself, the smile on her face was genuine. Hestia was ambitious (this Hestia was and oh, how that thought stabbed through her) and Flora respected that. Under their surface differences there was a likeness that she felt drawn to. “It’s true, I didn’t buy the ticket myself but I think I’m having a little more fun since I lost my… whoever.” She wouldn’t even call them a date. She just hadn’t wanted to be seen going into Knockturn Alley so she flirted and manipulated and got herself a ticket another way. “You have really outdone yourself this time, Jones. I hope you’re getting to enjoy it yourself.”

-

“Good that you’re here for fun too,” Hestia tips her head to Flora, amused. She doesn’t think she has ever met anyone as ambitious as Flora before, someone who knows what they want, someone who is actively carving a path for themselves for the life they want. Everyone’s always a little bit lost. Especially when they’re young and there’s lots of glittering things around. You tend to lose direction when you’re young. You stray from the path. You try out things and then you fail and go back to Square One. Not Flora Karaer though.

Flora has grit. Determination. Hestia likes that about her, how unshakeable she is.

Hestia Jones doesn’t have a sister of her own or a niece. No kid too. No one to mentor and dole out life advices to. So when she met Flora, it’s a bit like meeting a niece. Like they’re not that different. There’s a similarity between them. Hestia doesn’t see herself in Flora. Their relationship has boundaries and territories they don’t go into. It’s more like seeing the potential in a person and liking that potential.    

“Ditchin’ the ticket buyer already?” she smiles and raises her eyebrow, “Tell the bar you’re on tab 189.” Tab 189′s Hestia’s tab. She isn’t paying for her own. Hers is free courtesy of Hog’s Head, part of the deal for the two institutions’ partnership with one another. She has never utilized it much, being drunk on the job isn’t fun.

"More age-appropriate, I see. I'd kill Robards. I like a good assassination of a sitting head of state. The drama is superb. Sue, I'd marry. The woman can rein me in. I wanted to kill Sturgis but killing Robards was more tempting so guess I could fuck Sturge."

“Why on earth are they all younger than me? Makes me feel filthy. They feel like kids to me. I’m not a cougar so I’ll kill the Weasley. Lots of them ‘round town anyway. I’ll marry Astoria Greengrass. Seems sweet enough. An older Parkinson I’d fuck.”

freddie

"My ex-husband in a really, really weird way. If I didn't meet him, I might still be at that dead-end job. Still hate his guts though. But all his flaws and faults in the union? They led me here. So guess I gotta send him a thank you letter."

radio gaga

"Dionne Warwick's Get Rid of Him and I Say A Little Prayer For You. Mad World by Michael Andrews for somethin' a bit more modern. Girl, You'll Be A Woman Soon. Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)."

maracas

"This dress I just bought. Vintage. Apparently some Muggle princess wore it once. Was told it's a great investment."