#;event1

If there was ever a time to know some kind of cold or containment spell, today would have been it. Unfortunately for Remus, his magical education was more than a little lacking in substance and his wand was still tucked away safely under his bed. Wishes and regrets weren't going to help with the fire salamander currently in his path. The creature had set a nearby stack of crates on fire, the flames licking at the cobblestone path as they devoured the wood and searched for somewhere else to take purchase.

Remus had only wanted to visit James. His friend had been hard to get a hold of recently, and with the rift between himself and Sirius, Remus had seen a noticeable lack of social interaction with normal people. That was, people who didn't blink their eyelashes or twirl their moustaches at him, people who he didn't have to smile and bow and politely chuckle at. And he'd just about made it to the dockyards too, until the commotion had caught up to him and he'd realised something wasn't quite right. A short conversation with someone who was very quickly going in the opposite direction told him what was going on. He thought about turning and going back to town but he knew he'd never forgive himself if he found out later that someone had been hurt and he could have helped. Which was how he came across the frightened, shelter-seeking salamander currently in his path.

He knew he couldn't touch it with his hands. That much was obvious. He wasn't even sure what he would do with the creature if he caught it, but he knew that he couldn't leave it running around on the street. The burning of London was still fresh on everyone's minds and if the status of the wooden crates was any indication, blackened and burnt out; then the nearby buildings would not fare well if touched by the salamander's fire. Remus knew he had to contain it, even if it was only one creature of many.

Molly stared at the bowl, Dom’s bowl to be exact brought to her and she stared out the room’s door, and shook her head as she smiled to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose. When she held it in her hands, she noticed that he slapped his name on that thing and made it his own, it’s pretty ridiculous. But there wasn’t much to read, having already known its history like the back of her hand. 

“I see that an idiot owned this bowl for almost a decade and puts an ecosphere in it because he thought it would look like a snow globe, the dog food bowl actually has an existential crisis right now because of him.”

It was a little pathetic how easily wound up he was when it came to Grant; he would never admit the reason he had pulled his friend aside, drunk and out of control, was because he was jealous.  Auggie made his way towards Grant through weaving bodies and the smell of sweat, ignoring the people rubbing against his legs and arms, handing off his half-empty cup to some underage party crasher on the way. He’d feel bad about it in the morning, but with the beat rattling his wrist bones and shaking into his spine he didn’t care about anything but stealing Grant’s attention, turning it back onto his, just to prove to himself that he could, that August mattered more than any of those bare thighs and weaving hips.