#a-fairfury

VI Quote of the Week:

He must have been drifting into a wake-like-sleeping, his eyes still trained on the front door and his wand still on his knee. He hadn’t even noticed the sun come up, nor the noises outside that spoke to a busy city street.                                                                         -- strikes-goyle, Breaking Point

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She stood and finally looked him in the face again. Sure enough, just as she predicted, her eyes filled with tears at the sight of his apologetic face. Still, she just looked at him for a moment, trying to burn his face into her memory in case she really didn’t ever see him again. This moment would have to sustain her for the rest of her life, it wouldn’t do to rush it.                                                                      -- charity-h-burbage, Old Flames

”Amazing,” Alecto murmured, finding it utterly fascinating the number of beasts that were supposed to be here, and from how far away they were supposed to be. For the first time in a long, long time, Alecto felt like a normal girl, her hand encased in Remus’ while they strolled along looking at the smaller exhibits that lined the walkway. She liked the way he looked at her and she knew that whenever her gaze did land on the man, it was filled with adoration. She glanced over to where Remus had pointed, taking in the Porlock. The last time she’d seen a Porlock, the blonde witch had been a small child and she remembered with fondness how amazed she had been at the simple creature.                                                                        -- a-fairfury, Beautiful Creatures

Remus was leaving a muddy trail in the snow gathered around the crushed-can-turned-portkey as he paced there and back again like Bilbo Baggins’s fucking book (he wasn’t much of a Tolkien fan, but when you were friends with Marlene McKinnon, you at least had to read The Hobbit at one point in your life). He tugged the sleeves of his thick purple sweater until they completely covered his exposed fingers. How stupid was it that right now the only thing that occupied his mind was the fact that this would be the third time Alecto had seen him in those old black jeans!? She was going to think he didn’t own another pair of trousers. Which he did…just not in such a good state as these ones. And that was saying something, considering he’d had them for a couple of years now.

He buried his face deeper into the warmth of his black scarf and tugged his hands into the pockets of the patched grey cloak he was wearing above the sweater. His nose was probably red by now, as were his cheekbones. Fucking cold always did that to him. She was going to think he was some insomniac Rudolph the reindeer relative.

Only he shouldn’t be caring about what she thought about his appearance. He knew it could not be for so many different reasons that made it a bad idea, and that he was probably fooling himself anyway, so why did he fucking care!?

Because she had kissed him. And he had kissed her back under the shelter of a streetlight, outside the theater, while the voices of Christine Daaé and the Phantom were still fresh in their memories. And then she had asked to meet up for Valentine’s Day—even though that had been yesterday.

And now she was going to show up so that they could apparate via Portkey somewhere in the Devon countryside to see a colorful parade of fantastic creatures. She was going to show up looking ethereal, a winter angel in her element, the white of the snow bringing out the rose of her cheeks, the strawberry blonde of those delicate curls, and those eyes…those melancholic blue depths that helped him sleep just by thinking about them and how calming they were. How calming she was for him. She was going to show up to make him grin like the stupid fucking idiot he was around her.

But would she? Remus frowned, never ceasing to circle the portkey. Alecto had never failed him in the past, and he couldn’t think of a reason for her to start now. “Unless she realizes just how much of a bad idea this is. Unless she realizes I’m not good enough for her. I’m not worthy. Monstrous, I am monstrous and insignificant”. Merlin’s baggy balls, what if she didn’t show up!? What if…

His brooding was cut short by the low rustle of snow beneath a pair of feet somewhere to his right. Remus drew in a sharp breath of winter air and turned, his hand raised and shielding his eyes from the brightness of the white around him. Around them.

VI Quote of the Week:

“I wasn’t ever very introverted until the last year or so, the crowds haven’t ever bothered me, but I can see how it could be overwhelming.” She didn’t, though. There was comfort in the anonymity of a crowd. At home, alone with her thoughts and the silence, she struggled – but out among people, at a concert or even just walking down a crowded sidewalk, it was easier to sort out her thoughts. Maybe it was the constant noise, like the sound of waves rushing onto a beach, that calmed her. Maybe being surrounded by people who had their own lives and problems, some of which were surely larger than her own, helped her gain perspective. She couldn’t articulate exactly what it was that comforted her, but crowds were definitely a necessity of her life.                                                                   -- charity-h-burbage, Slow Healing

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It was such an innocent action; the way he took and held her small hand in his larger one, the long fingers wrapping around them delicately, yet with a firm touch. Even in the chill of winter, the simple action warmed her from the tip of her reddening nose to her frozen toes. He was perfect and she couldn’t stop the affectionate way she stared, even if she actually wanted to, and there was a part of her that wanted to, unfortunately.                                                                        -- a-fairfury, Beautiful Creatures

She didn’t miss Walburga’s anxious glance over at Sirius before the woman quickly stepped in to answer for him.  It was something they had in common, mothers fussing over whether or not their children gave the right puppeted answer, whether their prime, pure legacy would be passed on to the children for them to show off.  The only difference was Narcissa had stopped fighting the against the current, instead opting to swim with it, trying her best to be perfect, and exactly what her parents wanted.  There were few missteps she could afford after her sister had all but ruined their family name.                                                         -- forever-toujourspur, Changing Waters

VI Quote of the Week:

“Well, as I said, my childhood was very different. I actually never met a Muggle until several years after I’d left Hogwarts. Of course, there were Muggleborns at school with me – one of my best friends was a Muggleborn, and I was very friendly with a good number – so I knew of some Muggle things, but my parents actually kind of buy in to the whole blood purity thing. Not at all to the extreme extent we’re seeing these days, but I wasn’t allowed to go into Muggle towns, I only played with magical children. And then after Hogwarts, when I – I had an arranged engagement with a boy from another pureblooded family. So if that had worked out as planned, it’s theoretically possible I could’ve lived to this day having never met a Muggle. Which would’ve been a shame, really, most of my closest friends these days are Muggles,” she laughed, before realizing how sad that was, considering she’d barely even written them a letter in the last year.                                                                   -- charity-h-burbage, Slow Healing

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Alastor felt the ground shake when the large beast fell onto to the street. Shit. There went his plan. Seeing the impact of the Killing Curse wasn’t ever something he got used to. His heart rate shot up and it felt like another dose of adrenaline had been administered to his blood stream. He knew it took a lot of energy and rage to execute an effective spell. That wasn’t particularly good for him at the moment, staring at the end of the Death Eater’s wand.                                                                         -- head-auror-moody, Troll Bait

“It’s just like at the beginning of the summer. At first you still wake up early every morning and naturally hate every minute of it” Marlene chuckled “But eventually you slow down into the summer haze. At least you get to sleep. I still have to wake up early to head for work”. Not that she complained, at least not too much. The blonde absolutely adored her job, it was a well-known fact, so she was willing to go against her sleepyhead nature in order to get to Law Enforcement every day, kick ass and do some justice when possible.                                                             -- cherrybomb-witch, Talking Business

VI Quote of the Week:

Remus looked down at the finger poking at his chest, feeling both invaded and insulted. He slapped Snape’s hand away harshly, in a rare display of physical aggression from his part. Normally Remus recoiled from touch he considered unwelcomed, he backed away from confrontations, always preferring peace over chaos (he had enough of that on his own). But there was something so frustrating, so incredibly unfair about Severus Snape always reducing him to the lowest of scums. Perhaps it was easier to rebel against claims he would have normally bowed his head to when the person formulating them was in a level as low as he was. A werewolf being accused by a traitor was not so unbalanced after all, or so Remus felt.                                                           -- the-wolf-within, Until Proven Innocent

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Everyone told her that she was small compared to them, but at nearly 34 weeks, Narcissa felt like a whale.  She moved slowly, and was almost constantly aching. She was hardly comfortable during sleep, and perhaps most importantly, none of her clothes fit.  Some women loved being pregnant. Narcissa was not one of them.                                          -- forever-toujourspur, Stressed But Well-Dressed

“I might cry,” Alecto answered honestly without even opening her eyes. She tried to make it sound like she was joking, and it had been a while since Alecto had actually cried, but if Remus denied her, it was entirely possible. She didn’t have to seriously contemplate that scenario, though, because Alecto knew that even if Remus actually wanted her to leave… He probably wouldn’t have the heart to say so. It was why she was so careful, watching his physical cues to make sure that her presence was wanted. He never let her down. Sometimes the witch toyed with the idea of moving in with the handsome, loving wizard, but it wasn’t going to be possible for as long as Master Carrow was still alive. Someone really had to do something about him.                                                             -- a-fairfury, Sweet With No Bitter Edge

VI Quote of the Week:

At first, the situation was at least a little amusing, being called in for a murder that she didn’t commit and for once knew nothing about, but it was quickly becoming tiresome. Alecto was growing frustrated with each minute that ticked by on the impossibly loud clock in the room and the voices, they did nothing to alleviate that. They had never seemed on her side, though. For as long as she could remember they chanted poison and toxicity, and now as the second hand ticked, ticked, ticked by on the clock, they whispered that she was going down for this, that she might as well confess to the crime because they’d find a way to pin it on her anyway. They might go easier if she confessed…                                                                           -- a-fairfury, Sins of the Father

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Ramsey didn’t know what was happening beyond the tip of his wand. One minute Crabbe was yelling, the next he was off with a body on his back. Ramsey was quick to run after him, glancing back over his shoulder to cast a panicked look into the darkness. The patronus was still busy dancing and keeping the spiders back, but it was clear that he (Ramsey thought it was a ‘he’) was losing steam. The light was fading and the animal’s shape wasn’t as crisp as it had once been. Then its ears blended into its head, and its paws disappeared, then its body and head, until finally it was a blob of light that dissipated into a hazy fog.                                                                      -- strikes-goyle, Caught in a Web

With her hands covering Percy’s ears, Molly politely cleared her throat. Arthur then realized that he’d completely veered off  from answering Tilden’s question and that he probably shouldn’t have told the story about the strangling teddy bear with one of his younger sons in ear shot. He gave a slightly apologetic look to his wife before turning to Tilden. “Sorry, what was your question again?”                                                                -- the-curious-weasley, May Flowers

VI Quote of the Week:

I think the Patronous Charm is possibly one of the most powerful and beautiful spells in existence. To turn good memories into protective energy, a shield so strong that represents your inner self entirely and protects your from the darkest parts of you. It’s breathtaking.                                                -- cherrybomb-witch, The Most Powerful Spell

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To Edgar’s continued horror, Moody seemed just as furious as someone might be after being punched in the face by someone they considered an ally. He realized he was far too used to Rommie, who knew how to handle him and was there to reassure him when he had calmed down. It had been a while since he’d had a full-blown episode in front of someone other than his wife.                                                        -- edgarbonesknows, Forced to the Front

“Muggle things are quite fascinating though. The bits and bobs somehow get put together to make the thing work. I took apart an old Muggle radio once, fascinating. Engines though, now those are truly wonderful. Still haven’t quite figured them out, but I’m getting close,” he said with determination.                                                                      -- the-curious-weasley, A Bench

VI Quote of the Week:

“The conversation is getting really old, really fast, Severus. Is there some other matter you want to falsely accuse me of without major proof? Poverty in Third World countries? Hunger in Africa? The way that huge mass of a nose simply cannot find a way to fit better on your face?” The last part he could not help. Again, Severus and the likes of him brought out the worst in Remus.                                                            -- the-wolf-within, Until Proven Innocent

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“Shade for the hosta, sun for the daylilies and space for the lilac, got it,” Arthur nodded. He looked down to see that the plants had moved and were already arranged to meet the criteria. “This layout looks good too.” He assumed Tilden had done the layout; that or the plants had magically grown feet and had decided where they wanted to go, but he banked on the former of the options. Wanting the garden to look the best and most importantly, not die, Arthur was not insistent on the layout.                                                                -- the-curious-weasley, May Flowers

He stared back at her, meeting her eyes for a brief second before shifting them away uncomfortably. Goyle reached out and grabbed his coffee, taking a sip of  cold sludge and forced it down like whiskey.                                                           -- strikes-goyle, Good Witch, Bad Witch