no, i won't give you a little twirl

james had been in the backroom taking inventory of the bakery’s materials, writing down whatever needed to replaced.

he had an impromptu wave of orders coming and he was slightly more absent-minded from training, so james’ supplies were slowly drying out as the weeks went by and he hadn’t noticed.

he only supposed it was right that there was an more of a demand for comfort food due to the current tension, nothing like digging into chocolate cake as you worry about the state the world right?

james’ head snapped up at the sound of phoebe’s voice and he set aside his notes in favor of running back to the front of the bakery.

“ hey, hold your horses, i’m right here.” james said, holding his hands up in mock defense as he smiled at the other.

///

phoebe had a sort of fondness for james that was unparalleled. perhaps it was his age or the way that he approached life, but regardless, she had to say, james was one of her favorite. 

she knew she shouldn’t be picking favorites. she knew that she should probably keep this information to herself. she did the second, but she didn’t do the first—she had a few people she considered to show the most promise, and james was one of them. 

besides, she liked that he baked cookies. that was always a plus, especially since phoebe had been craving comfort food ever since the events of the rally. it had left her busier than ever and she was getting frustrated by her lack of progress. 

“good thing, because i am in desperate need of some sweets, and i wanted to bounce some things off you.” 

Phoebe spent her time these days checking up on the younger members of the Order. She hadn’t been at the rally herself, but many of them had been, and those who had fought in the previous war like she had could feel the tides turning towards war, she was sure of it. She searched through the bakery for James, her lips pressed together and her tied back sharply, for she had just returned from training with another member of the Order. Phoebe, having been a war hero in the previous war, spent a lot of her time training new recruits, for she knew how difficult it could be to truly understand how dangerous war was. 

“James?” she called out, letting her hair down from its ponytail and peeking over the counter for him. “Darling, if I can’t find you in the next five minutes, I’m going to have to steal these cookies,” she joked lightly. 

To most, Phoebe Finch-Fletchley was a name that commanded respect. Even among a few of the Knights. Her achievements during the wizarding war had garnered her a reputation of bravery and ingenuity. It was unfortunate she had decided to squander her talents under Dumbledore. Her do-good desires rankled Florence - and though she’d never admitted it out loud, Phoebe gave her a run for her money in terms of talent and cleverness. Most of Dumbledore’s bumbling sycophants were mere shadows to Florence, cowering, posturing wix meant to simply be stepped over. But Phoebe? Phoebe couldn’t be simply stepped over. Phoebe had to be respected, even begrudgingly.

Florence didn’t like Phoebe.

Case in point: the other woman waited a few moments, probably only pretending to skim her notes before addressing Florence. When Phoebe finally closed her notebook and looked at her, she smiled, a warm and polite fuck you sparkling in her eyes. She tutted, looking back at the arena. “Shame. If you want some help, all you have to do is ask.” Her smile grew genuine with amusement at the thought of Phoebe stooping to ask Florence for help. In spite of herself, she let out a laugh. Florence didn’t much care for Abraxas. In her eyes, he was an arrogant idiot, too happy to play Riddle’s Ministry puppet. “To be a fly on the wall for that conversation,” she mused. An air of seriousness settled over her. If Phoebe hadn’t found anything, it probably meant that there was very little to be found. Whoever was behind this, they were good. That worried her.

“Do you think it’s someone we know?”

///

As much as Phoebe disliked Florence, even she had to admit to Florence’s skill. Florence was a talented witch, and Phoebe would have been wise to make sure that she was keeping an eye on her.There was no telling how she might be involved in the new brewing conflict, but Phoebe would have been naive to think that she wouldn’t have a role at all. Phoebe had never been to worried about other people who were on Grindelwald’s side of the war last time—most of them were young and easy to beat in a fight—but Florence had always given Phoebe a run for her money. She was quick-witted, intelligent, and extremely talented with her magic. Suffice it to say that Phoebe wished Florence nothing but ill. 

Phoebe gave Florence a fake smile. “Oh, I’ll be sure to,” she replied, shaking her head as she looked down at her notebook once more before stowing it in her bag. At Florence’s laughter, she couldn’t help but feel a little jarred, if only because this may have been the first civil conversation they had ever had. It was unnerving, knowing that they were on the same side of an issue. “Oh, it was wonderful,” she replied. “Certainly something to behold. I was fairly certain that vein in Abraxas’ temple was going to burst out from under his skin.” 

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “That’s the problem. Everyone I’ve talked to doesn’t know who it was,” she said. “And he wasn’t wearing a mask or anything. Maybe he charmed his appearance, but even so, what would he gain from that? It was clear he wanted to make some sort of public debut.” Phoebe bit down on her lip thoughtfully. “Until we figure out who he is, we’re not going to be able to work against him.” 

-

Ewan visibly looked fine– he always did. He knew how to control any nervous tremors in his hand, and to refrain from tapping his foot anxiously. Ewan never wanted anyone to worry over him because he was already worried about everyone else. The fact that he and Donny could’ve been stripped from their magic had shaken him to his core. How were they to help their children if the loss of magic was permanent? The only sign that Ewan was in any sort of distress was that his eyes never wavered from the window near them.

“I’d never seen him in my life. His face was too mundane to be memorable.” Ewan scoffed after taking a sip from his tea. “The perfect criminal mastermind.” Ewan hated not knowing who he was, he hated that the man didn’t have any significant identifying features to run off of. It was like a blip in time that never even happened. 

///

Phoebe followed his gaze towards the window but said nothing of it, instead just continuing with their conversation as if she hadn’t noticed. She could feel when things were off—she had a knack for understanding the people around her—and she knew that when Ewan was ready, he would say something about it. Until then, she was just going to wait and watch and hope that he was at least talking to Adonis about it. Phoebe cared deeply about her younger charges in the Order, and she wanted nothing more than to make sure they were all okay. 

“That’s what bothers me the most. Where did he come from? How could he have planned all of this without any of us knowing who he is?” Phoebe was stumped. How did he even know about the magical world if he wasn’t a part of it? And if he was.a part of it, how did he stay under the radar for so long? 

Florence wasn’t here on official Knights business. Rarely did she ever perform reconnaissance - Riddle knew better than to ask her to do such a menial task - but her curiosity was starting to get the better of her. She considered herself far more clever than the Ministry’s merry band of idiot Aurors, and she was sure they would have left behind a few clues they were too dense to pick up. Whoever had done this was smart – nearly as smart as she. When she arrived in Diagon Alley, she wasn’t surprised to discover that nearly all the posters had been scrubbed from the walls. Whether that was the Ministry’s attempt at peace or the part of the perpetrator’s plan, Florence wasn’t sure. As she drew closer to the site where the rally had been held, she wasn’t surprised to see Phoebe Finch-Fletchley. She moved silently, waiting until she was right next to the woman to speak.

“Find anything good?” She was hoping to startle Phoebe. She liked to take small wins, in that way, but she kept her eyes on the building in front of them, hands in her pocket. To anyone else, Florence would appear as simply a bystander, asking well-meaning questions of London’s foremost magical security consultant. “Can’t imagine Abraxas was pleased to call you in.”

///

Ever since the previous war, Florence and Phoebe had an animosity that was a rivalry to match even that between Grindelwald and Dumbledore. The two of them had been high in the ranks for their sides of the war, and currently were high in the ranks again, though they were not sure of the other’s involvement. Regardless, Phoebe didn’t trust Florence for a second, and she didn’t doubt that Florence didn’t trust her, either. 

She was startled by Florence’s appearance, but managed to only show it in a slight twitch in the corner of her lips, her expression pulling down into a thoughtful frown again. She glanced over her notes, clearly stalling before speaking to Florence—if only because she knew the disrespect would be infuriating—before closing her leather-bound notebook and looking up at Florence. Say what you will: evil, at least, suited her. She was looking better than Phoebe had expected, and that made Phoebe even angrier. 

“Not yet,” she replied. “Whoever it was, was particularly good at covering their tracks.” Regardless of what side of the current conflict they were on, none of it was going to matter if they all lost their magic. There was no harm in sharing this information. “Not at all,” Phoebe said, just a hint of a smirk curving at her lips. “He never is.” 

Hector had the feeling he wasn’t supposed to go into the arena, set up as it was for the course of investigation. He did at least try to follow the rules more often these days, but he’d also caught sight of a familiar head disappearing inside, and that changed everything. He had a long habit of following Phoebe, the more risk involved, the better, and it was far too late to stop now. Not to mention he wanted answers. 

“Finch-Fletchley!” he called out, in his most officious tone, still jogging forwards. “You’re looking formidable as ever, found anything yet?” A grin broke forth on his features as he approached, though it was measured by an equal alertness in his eyes as he looked around. He hadn’t been back here since the rally, and he still remembered what it had been like, all the horror and helplessness of the day. 

///

As soon as she heard Hector’s voice, Phoebe grinned. As far as partners in crime went, Hector was about as good of one as someone could get. They had been as thick as thieves at Hogwarts, and that closeness had continued on afterwards during the war and beyond. When Phoebe had been approached to help found the Order of the Phoenix, Hector had been one of her first recruits. 

She looked up from her notes at him, snapping her notebook shut and shaking her head. “Nothing obvious yet,” she said, pursing her lips lightly in a frown. She hadn’t been at the rally, thank God, but she had certainly considered going, which was a terrifying thought. She sincerely believed that some higher power had been looking out for her to stop her from being there. “I don’t know if being here is even going to help out that much, honestly.”

Phoebe had gotten stalled in her little investigation into what had happened at the arena. She knew that she had to ask Ewan—who was one of the few people she trusted to give her a thorough and accurate report on anything—what he had seen there, but upon going to see him, she could see that he was a lot worse for wear than she had anticipated he would be. She felt bad, trying to press him for information during a time when he needed support more than he needed to work, but Phoebe had long since learned that slowing down was death. 

She had seen more than her fair share of breakdowns, however, especially during the last war, so she wasn’t going to try and push Ewan too hard. The last thing she wanted was to push him over the edge of the cliff. “I’m no closer to finding out what happened at the rally,” she said mournfully, looking up from the mug of tea sitting in front of her. “It’s bloody frustrating is what it is,” she added. “Who the hell was he?”

Phoebe circled the area where the arena had been set up, following the lines of the structure as she looked for any indication of what exactly had happened there the day before. She looked up and down the structure, her brow furrowing in concentration as she flipped open a worn, leather-bound notebook and jotted down a few more notes.

☆ ( aishwarya rai, cisfemale, she/her ) ☆ that over there would be ( phoebe finch-fletchley ), the ( 40 ) year old ( halfblood ) who ( did ) fight during the global wizarding war. they attended ( hogwarts ) and are a ( gryffindor ) alum. which is fitting considering they are ( passionate ), yet ( temperamental ). they are an ( order of the phoenix member ) and also work as a ( security consultant ). every time i see them, it’s like ( seashore by the regrettes ) is playing in my head.