ʟᴏᴜᴠʀᴇ

Ethan had found himself in complete loss after war. Not having anyone to turn to. For a while he had just roamed, not wanting to go to the place that held so many memories. Some good, yet overwhelmingly bad ones.

His eyes lingered upon the trio for a moment, adjusting his jacket before he continued to walk down the stairs. Grinning lightly as Hermione started to speak. “Guess we are all chasing demons here aren’t we? Just packing up before leaving this place for good.” Ethan spoke, one of his trademark smiles curving his lips. His face lightly scarred from war still. “Splendid! What about you?” Only when the words left his lip he realised how rude and perhaps harsh he sounded. “I’m sorry, barely had sleep the past days.” His fingers traced the short beard he had grown out. “Could be better, trying to get moving on. Which I assumed was easier than it actually is.” His eye adverted to the floor upon his confession. War had taken its toll on everyone who rebelled againt the dark and refused to give in. Being the only Black male alive wasn’t quite easy either. It seemed some of them were especially determined to hunt him down. “You three still attached to the hip I see?” He grinned as he made his way towards the counter. “Tea?” He questioned, the wizard moving his hand to get the water boiling. “What are you three doing now?”

   ❛ it’s alright -- we’ve all been a bit on edge, recently. it’s inevitable, given what we have been through, ❜ hermione confessed, her fingers twisting themselves as she fiddled with them, trying to keep a firm glance and a small smile upon her lips as she spoke briefly about the current events. she followed the boys into the kitchen as ethan headed to the counter and began to boil some water. 

   ❛ tea would be lovely, ❜ there it was -- her forced smile again.

   she sat herself down at the table as the boys began to explain their current affairs -- both of them pursing auror training and commenting on the long hours and intense tasks. hermione, on the other hand, found an opening in their conversation to explain her current life --  ❛ i’m returning to hogwarts, of course, after the rebuilding. i want to complete school. ❜ there was a muffled scoff from ronald as he rolled his eyes, munching on some stale crackers he had found in the cupboard. they had gotten into many arguments over hermione’s decision to return to finish school -- but in the end, it was settled. it was her decision. 

   ❛ what about you, ethan, what are you plans? ❜

i’m slowly getting my replies out. ive been very off lately, both on my muse && in general. its been very stressful here on my end. i have a couple of starters to write up that i haven’t forgotten about, so if you’re waiting for one it will probably come this weekend. 

@mionegrxngerr ( starter call )

“Oof! Careful, Hermione. Too much water and all the bulbs will shrivel up. It’ll take days to coax them back out.” It was so strange, actually studying again. Last year at Hogwarts hadn’t even felt like a school; he’d been so busy with the new Dumbledore’s Army that even his legitimate classes hadn’t benefited him. And now… here he was with Hermione, in the greenhouses (Professor Sprout had kindly let them use a corner), preparing for the Herbology NEWT. Any day now he expected someone to show up and warn them that the Carrows were coming…

closed starter for: @mionegrxngerr

Finding himself in a state of loss and unknown, he entered Gimmauld Place. His eyes darting around the place, his fingers running across the wallpaper, his face burned out of the wallpaper, just like his fathers. A life taken by this war. Finally he had been free, plans made for the future and yet brutally ripped away from his side once again before he even had a chance to get to really know him without dark clouds hanging above them. He ran his long fingers through his outgrown hair, one he hadn’t care to trim in the time of sorrow.

With a swing of his wand he let the stuff he wanted to take along pack itself in his trunk. A moment of doubt struck him, decorations of Christmas still hanging from the ceiling, even in the darkest times some had wanted to celebrate such a ridiculous celebration. His eyes darted to the stairs, his feet following the direction, hand hovering over the doorknob of his fathers room. Wondering if he should take anything or leave it in this place. Though war was over, everything only now seemed to sink in. Questions of where to go and what to do downing upon him. Vagualy he heard the front door opening and closing, voices dooming up. Probably here to pick up their belongings left here. Ethan turned around, he had time to think and pounder later. “Hey..” He announced his presecse, walking down the stairs.

   since the war, it was hard for hermione and the rest to revisit places they had used as shelter when on the run. the burrow was the easiest to fall back into a routine with -- it wasn’t really a safe haven when they were hunting for horcruxes, however, only a few handfuls of times did they return to bill and fleur’s, as well as grimmauld place. but they were making a sacrifice this time, allowing themselves to return to start getting accustomed once again, and to collect their belongings that they may have left behind. 

   as the building appeared, the three of them walked up the stairs, twisting the knob and heading inside. ron, on a long and detailed conversation with harry about quidditch, managed to trip over the umbrella stand and curse to himself, resulting in an eye-roll from hermione. the boys eventually made their way into the kitchen, but the sound of the steps creaking behind caught hermione’s attention. she should have known someone was in the building, some of the lights were left on, and she half wanted to reach for her wand but tried to fight the urge. she turned around only to see ethan and her worries ebbed away, resulting in a smile. 

   ❛ ethan -- i’m surprised to see you here, ❜ she began, hands removing themselves from her pockets. ❛ how are you? ❜

@mionegrxngerr 

Why did children have to be sneaky little shits? He had just spent the last hour being yelled out at by an angry mother who claimed her child was locked in his store. After reassuring her over fifty times that her child was not inside and being told fifty times that she was sure her child was inside, Fred finally let her have a peek inside the shop, even though they were about to close. Sure enough, the mother knew where to locate the little bugger. (In the aisle with the headless hands.) The agitated mother then proceeded to berate him for another thirty minutes. Try as he might, he was unable to get even one sarcastic comment in. Until he slammed the door in her face and locked it.

With a roll of his eyes, he worked his way to the counter of the dimly lit shop. Today was a good day for the shop, but that usually meant an extra-long day for George and him. With a wave of his wand, he had the cash register locked and the money that had resided there flying to the back room. Merlin, he needed something to take the edge off. With another wave of his wand, he conjured a cigarette. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a feminine figure sliding toward him as he lit his cig with his wand.

“Day’s been too long,” he muttered around his light, before inhaling and offering it to Hermione. “Want one?”

   she had spent a majority of the morning restocking shelves -- a task hermione enjoyed completing because it kept her hands busy and mind occupied. the crowd in the weasley shop only increased after lunch, an unusual amount of children flooding through, accounting on that the hogwarts school year was now over. now that the shop was closed and the last family gone, a strange ringing played in hermione’s ear from the lack of chatter and noise. 

   sweeping up the last aisle with a wave of her wand and straightening out some boxes, she walked back towards the counter where fred leaned against. her lips broke into a smile, the thought of him being so stressed out that he needed to light a cigarette quite amusing. ❛ oh -- no thank you, ❜ she retorted at his offer, walking around the til and sliding into a workbench next to him. her feet ached, but she felt satisfied with the day’s work. ❛ that last customer, i thought they’d never leave. who leaves their child unattended long enough to forget them in a store? ❜ 

   her arms rested against the counter, shoulders shrugging in disbelief from some of the strange occurrences she had seen from parents since working at the shop.

As much as he DIDN’T want to see his daughter-in-law, Arthur had to admit to himself that it was nice to see a familiar face. The last time Arthur had seen Hermione was a few weeks ago, when things weren’t good, but not as bad as now. He didn’t know what to do – did he give her a hug? Did he make small talk with her? Offer her a drink?

How are you?

The question was TYPICAL but he didn’t want to reply to it. There was always that one, generic answer – I’m fine, thank you, are you? – but Arthur Weasley WAS NOT fine, and he had a feeling that Hermione knew.

So instead, he shrugged his shoulders. ‘ I’ve been better. ’ That was a better response; not entirely the ‘I feel like shit’ he wanted to say, but not a complete lie either. He had been better.

‘ How are you? ’ It was time to return the question. ‘ Do you have time for a quick drink, or do you need to get back? ’ Arthur didn’t know how maybe I shouldn’t talk to her had turned into why don’t you stay for a drink; maybe he needed some company and his subconscious was making him converse.

   she was hesitant, looking around at the faces of all the wizards surrounding them as if they knew of their secrets -- but no one was looking back, or even cared. she never felt uncomfortable in mrweasley’s presence, so hermione wasn’t going to start now. she did not hate him, but rather understood him, but that didn’t give her a reason to justify his actions. 

   with a nod, she acknowledged his request and decided to take a seat across from him at the table, placing her bag at her feet. ❛ i’m sure you have, ❜ she conversed, nervous as her mind thought back to ron and mrsweasley -- how would they react if they knew she had seen arthur? ❛ i’m well, thank you. have you been working? ❜ it was a pathetic question, she didn’t know how else to continue, the twinge of nerves eating at her insides as she refrained from bolting questions at him -- why did he leave? a leaky server came by and placed a glass of water in front of her, asking if she’d like anything else to drink but hermione shook her head in response. they left immediately after. 

   delicate hands reached out to grasp her glass, the cold pressing against her skin as she took a sip of water, her eyes never leaving mr weasley’s.