Starters Blog

"No, I am not interested..." She told the person giving her a side eye. How could something as simple as dinner be so complicated?

"Sorry," she apologized as someone was pushed into her as she made her way to the bar. "You're not here for this..." Avery paused for a moment. "Whatever it is, I hope. Are you?"

Dirk tried to visit his Dad as often as he could, never telling him that it was mostly out of concern.  It was no secret that muggleborns and half bloods who worked for the Ministry and were a part of the Order put their families at risk.  Choosing to stay in Glasgow for the best part of a week, as it always did it took him a moment to adjust back to the Wizarding world.  

There was absolutely nothing more tedious in Barty’s mind, than having to continue his employment within the ministry.  Unfortunately for him, it had been made abundantly clear by the dark lord that it was imperative to have as many undercover death eaters working inside Ministry walls for as long as possible.  It just meant that he had to suffer the excruciating small talk between Aurors and other employees.  Unlike many of his inner circle comrades who also worked alongside him, nobody seemed to question Barty’s allegiance, presumably because of his father.  This was both a blessing and a curse.  

and then add on the fact that her boys always wanted to touch her growing bump. the older boys weren’t as into her growing belly anymore because they had seen the progression a few times, but fred and george always wanted to feel their baby brother or sister. it was always at the worst times too. like while walking around a store in diagon alley. 

molly had stopped sending out formal announcements that she was pregnant when she was pregnant with her twins, so usually, people found out she was pregnant with this baby when one of her twins announced her pregnancy for her. and it was always at the worst time, too. like when she was walking around the store.

“baby!” one of her twins, per usual, said as he reached for her protruding bump and roughly put his hands on her stomach.

“george, honey, I know you want to feel the baby move, but mummy doesn’t want small hands on her stomach right now. you can feel him move later,” she said to the twin sitting in the stroller in front of her.

She really should have planned her outfits better. There had been a meeting of the Hogwarts Junior Board, one she had gotten herself on with a well placed donation. But it was still Scotland. Scotland meant rain. Rain meant slippery cobblestones and mud. She couldn’t get to the Three Broomsticks fast enough to floo back home. She didn’t appreciate how little her fellow members seemed to care about what was going on. It had started to rain lightly and she increased her speed. Until her shoe caught just right and she managed to fall. “Gods above.” she said as she sat up, looking at her scattered papers. “Isn’t this just perfect?”

Violet needed to get away. But she lacked the ability to do that. So she settled for escaping into the large and busy muggle world. She enjoyed walking along the Thames, and had decided to take a ferry to the other side as the sun reached its peak. As the ferry puttered across the frothy water, she realized really how hungry she was. 

“Figures” she said, remembering she had only a mug of tea this morning, as she began to feel around her pockets. “Fuck” she whispered to herself, realizing she only had sickles and galleons. Don’t get her wrong. She wasn’t above literally charming her way into a free meal, it just irked her knowing full well she could easily afford it. 

Once the ferry docked, she set eyes on the first restaurant and made a bee line. It happened to be a small Italian café, and she ordered something called “spaghetti”. She tried to remember if Greggory had told her about this, but shook the thought when a large bowl of noddle’s and red sauce appeared before her.  Ehh… this looks like a mess she thought, picking up the fork and hovering over the bowl. Lost in thought of how to attack the food, a waiter appeared, spooking her, asking if she wanted some cheese grated over the top. “Uhm… sure”. “Ok” the waiter said, before grating a large amount of cheese, creating a small mound of parmesan before Violet realized he would keep going till she said stop. “That’s good, thank you” she said, hoping to finally have the table to herself to ponder how to eat her cheese with a side of spaghetti. 

After unceremoniously mixing the cheese as best she could into the rest of the dish, she took a small, slurpy bite. It was amazing. She allowed her guard to drop completely, noting she would probably not see a soul she knew, and really went to town on the food. 

Lost in thought and stuffing her face, it took a moment to realize someone had slid into the seat across from her. Someone she knew. Fuck. “Oh, hey there” she said, mouth full and not at all to the standard her family expected. 

Hearing the record drop, August paused as he waited for the needle to fall into the ridge, before pressing the button to switch audio from the host to the music. Once the melody began, he gave the host two thumbs up, alerting them the music has began and they are free to go. Their shift was up. Unlike August’s. He had the enviable position of manning the new initiative that was proposed by his boss. And being the new guy who happened to have a production background, he had been volun-told he would spearhead it.

At least he would be able to play anything he wanted. He assumed most people wouldn’t participate, and it would die out relatively quick. Haricks had called it town hall, allowing any and all wixen to come to the station, and leave a note, anonymous or not, and it would be read on the air. A way to get grivences out. “You do know how to read, right Spenc?” Haricks had asked in the meeting, implying yet again that since August was American, he was clearly a dumb dumb. “Haha, sorta” August replied, hoping to just move past the cheap joke.

The sound of static brought August to his sense, sitting up quickly realizing he had dozed off, and the record lineup he had had finally reached the end. “Sonofa” he said, grabbing some record within reach, and placing it on the empty turntable to the left. He dropped the needle, switching the audio, allowing the sounds of Fleetwood Mac’s new song “Tusk” to fill the room.

Letting out a sigh of relief, hoping the air wasn’t dead for too long, he leaned back into the chair, closing his eyes, before kicking himself to rotate around the room. He open his eyes as the chair came to a slow stop, seeing someone standing just outside the studio. Glancing at the clock, he saw the 3 minutes remained of “town hall” time. Nodding as if to say ‘ok’ he pushed himself from the chair, before opening the door a small amount, sticking out his hand for some note or paper of what to read on air.

Gideon studied his reflection in the dirty window. His hair, his biggest grievance with his appearance, was really bugging him today. That damn cow lick was refusing to obey, as he constantly padded at it, before realizing how silly he must look. He was practically hitting himself over the head, before giving up, and pulling out his wand.  Wordlessly, he charmed the stray hairs into obedience, and continued his walk.

He had just apperated from a muggle borough, where a few had be convinced that a neighbor had been walking in and out of their fireplace, in full view of the open bay window in their parlor. After ‘convincing’ them it was probably just some odd reflection in a wonky mirror, he was able to speak with the older wizard, Mr. Waps, about making sure his blinds were down, or maybe just leave them down, if he was going to be traveling so frequently by way of the floo network.

He reached into his pocket, hesitating, as he had been given a handful of licorice snaps as a thank you buy Mr Waps, and being polite, he put them in his pocket, vowing he was much too full from breakfast to partake at the moment. Spying a trash bin ahead, he grimaced as he scooped the handful out, being bitten lightly, before unending his palm over the wastebasket. “Gross…” he said, watching them squirm.

Hearing footsteps approach on his left, he stepped back, realizing he was standing right in the middle of the walkway. “Apologies” he said, as the figure got within a foot or two.

Georgie was thankful her father refused to do anything with the wedding. He didn’t need to be there. This wedding was only happening because of him, yes. But there wasn’t anything she wanted him involved in. That included her dress. It was only her first appointment, mostly taking measurements and going over what she wanted. It was fun, at least. Though it was very hard for her not to go with a black dress. She thought Barty would get a kick out of it the way she did. Maybe she should ask him. It would be perfect, honestly. If he was okay with it, she might just do it. 

Georgie hadn’t spent much time in Diagon since the attack. It was still a little too fresh for her. So she was immediately on edge when she heard yelling down the alley.  Someone was further up the lane, a better vantage point from where she was. “Is everything alright?” There was a slight edge to her voice she hoped wasn’t noticeable. “Nothing to worry about?” 

She was moving down one of the aisles, eyes scanning the titles as she moved. One caught her eye and she reached for it, hitting the hand of another. It was only then she realized someone else was there with her.  “You take it,” she said with a small smile. She already had three books and she was sure there was another in the shop for her. Even if not, she already had a good number. “I already have plenty.” 

Narcissa was grateful that the after effects of the Diagon Alley attack hadn’t lingered too long. She didn’t care to not be able to go to her regular shops and haunts. But her father insisted that she steered clear of the area until things started to return back to normal. She didn’t have any other reason to linger there anyways. She had no job to report to. So rather than watch the clock hands turn at the manor, she opted to visit France to for some shopping. Now that she was back, there was plenty to get caught up on. She sat at her usual table at her favorite cafe near Diagon Alley, perusing the Daily Prophet on what all she missed. Feeling someone’s presence hovering near, she finally spoke up, not looking up. “It’s not polite to hover,” she sighed, turning the page.

where: utp

When she was a little girl, no one would have guessed that Alecto would turn out the way she did. Not sweet, little, Alecto. The Carrow twins were raised to be each other’s best friend and that was true to an extent. Where Amycus fell short in patience and maliciousness, she was there to pick up the slack. They were the ying to the other’s yang, so to speak. Which was why it was so peculiar to see Alecto without her brother these days. “No, I have no idea what he’s been up to,” she said to whoever dared to ask, “Thanks for asking.” It was evident that her twin’s absence wore heavy on her.