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@antemortemstarters
“sure it’s getting colder but the fortescue chocolate swirl is something that i could eat even in the winter months,” frank was on a quick lunch break, he had to come down here anyway to question someone on a case that he was working on but there hadn’t been much progress and if frank was being honest he was a little restless lately given the political climate that they were in.
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“how about The Tales of Beedle the Bard, then?” she asked, as if she was going to get an answer from bill who sat perched on her hip, rather content with the lolly she had pacified him with, “that should keep us entertained, yeah?”. bundled up for the fall bustle of diagon alley, they had slipped right into flourish and blotts after their quick stop at sugarplum’s sweet shop.
“now we just need to find something for mummy” she sighed, fingers tracings the spines of the books - too many options, she hadn’t realize that she had company.
@antemortemstarters
It was a map before him, points lighting up like little sentinels across the least protected wixen villages. The gold light, that was a good one - calming. Those red lights, however, gave a leap in his heart. It had been a few months since he last ‘caught’ a red light on his map. And in the silence of his office, his face drew closer, and closer to the glow where he stared long enough to no longer be sure of the color where the tan parchment, black lines, and golden shimmer bonded into a grey-ish mode.
Leanly he had swiveled behind his own chair, one hand pressed to the desk with the other already holding his wand out to the door. Not even a freaking knock, rude bastards. That’s what he had convinced himself of by now. “I told ye to introduce yourself when coming into a room.” He’d make it a freaking law if he could, but even as his shoulders were lax the wand stayed pointed outwards. “Do ye think I’m holding office hours or something?” The edge was gone, and he quickly flicked his wand downwards rolling the map and enchanting it’s space back to the drawer. “Come back later, please.” @antemortemstarters
open to anyone
a quick contract signing for her first flat at a cafe` in diagon alley
It was a little place, nestled into a corner in East London. Through the glamour there were a few more buildings and flats that would meet the muggle eye. It was a find beyond anything else and all she could think was showing it to her mum, her dad, to Alice, to Emmeline - but she wanted it to be ready first. “There’s only a few weeks left in the semester.” She signed off on the parchment, making the third floor second door on the right her own space - speaking to the little notary who would send it off with an owl. Something less nomadic settled in her, but made her wonder how long she could last like that. Silence settled over while the clerk went back to work and she was aware of someone behind her. “It’s usually impolite to listen in on property developments.” And of course, she didn’t want any old person knowing she’d finally chosen somewhere solid for her time outside of Hogwarts. “But it’s usually a congratulatory moment.” @antemortemstarters
@antemortemstarters
“what? don’t look at me like that,” the witch grumbled, wiping the dust off her hands after placing a crate full of what looked like some creatures’ manure, she hadn’t bothered to ask. it definitely smelled foul but pandora had blocked the senses in her nose with a quick flick of her wand at the beginning of the shift. she was helping out at dogweed and deathcap for the day, in exchange for some galleons, another measly gig. labour work, something her mother would screech at, she had smiled amusedly at the thought.
“it’s good pay, really,” she justified as she kicked the crate into its designated slot. spellcrafting, or spell innovating as pandora liked to call it, was a slow process. she hasn’t been successful in her attempts but she will be, soon, she can feel it!
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@antemortemstarters
tarquin had made the dumb decision of picking up two consecutive shifts at the three broomsticks ; he needed the money, but the lack of sleep was getting to him. and for some reason, the pub was as packed in the early morning as it was last night. “ mate, can you order something.. i don’t know, today? “ man, were people picky when it came to breakfast.
@antemortemstarters
where: the leaky cauldron.
peter had finished his shift and found himself wondering around london before he finally settled on the leaky cauldron, things have been... bad lately, and he didn’t know where his mind was half of the time. if he wasn’t at work then he found himself at the ministry eavesdropping on conversations just to get any tiny hint of sirius and where he could possibly be, it was like looking for a needle in a haystack at this point, unsure of where his best friend was, and why he wouldn’t say anything to his best friends? peter knew that he couldn’t fault him for it, merlin knew that he had his own secrets but he was worried and the only way he knew how to show it was by doing his own research but all the questions he tried to answer came up to nothing. “can i just get a pint, please?” he asks the bartender, he hadn’t eaten much today, his worry eating him alive more than anything. he had looked around the pub as if by some hope sirius would just show up, that this had all been some misunderstanding. he can see the person sitting next to him reading the daily prophet, regulus black’s face plastered over the front cover, he hadn’t realized how long he had been staring at the patron until they had made a snide comment, “easy mate,” peter says with a scoff, “bunch of rubbish anyway,” grabbing his beer and taking a long drink of it.
