He hadn’t been raised a heathen, and there was no good reason (at all) for a perfectly reasonable grown man with manners to behave the way he did, but there Augustus was, snapping his fingers at the person behind the counter in the coffee shop because societal rules and norms clearly didn’t apply to him. “Excuse me, what part of black – no sugar, no cream – was so difficult to understand? Again. Do it again.” He was out of patience, and he hadn’t made it to the office yet, that was hardly a good sign. But he felt eyes on him, and turned his head, entirely unapologetic even as he dropped money in the tip cup. 

“I really don’t want to hear a lecture about manners, so spare me, yeah? I’m under caffeinated.”

What are you doing? Ivy hated being asked questions that had fairly obvious answers, so it took her a moment to look up - she was trying to make sure her smile didn’t have any venom in it. When she did look up, you’d never have known it wasn’t distraction that held her up by the smile she’d plastered on: bright, hopeful, and friendly. Gesturing to the glittery cards laid out on the table she’d commandeered, and the piles upon piles of candy she’d just purchased inside, Ivy shrugged. “I’m just making some little first week care packages. Some of those kids wait desperately all summer to get back to their friends, where it’s better, but then they have to watch those kids get missed and thought about.” The thought broke her heart, just like it always did, and her smile wavered for a moment before the Fawley shook it off - literally, hair (and glitter) flying off of her shoulders before settling again.  “Do you want to help? There’s plenty of sweets here, the kids could spare a few.”

♕ —- Saying it had been a long day would have been an understatement. A massive one. The ministry had all it’s aurors in the alley trying to clean up the mess that Evangeline could have told them was going to happen when they spent so much time sweeping everything under the rug. The magical world, once again, was a powdered keg and this was just going to the one of many explosions that was bound to happen. Stepping into the pub, she made her way to the bar top and ordered herself a drink. It wasn’t long before she was joined by another and her jaw set. “Do I really look like I want to be hit on right now,” she asked the stranger as she cut them with her green eyes. “What do you want?”

Dirk had taken it upon himself to head over to Gringotts and help smooth out a dispute over a recently deceased Wizard’s estate. Having developed several friendships with the goblins there he was seen quickly and together they’d gotten to the bottom of the mess. He’d need to present a report to Mr. Mockridge when he saw him next, but via large he was done for the day!

The goblin he’d worked with, named Banrast, escorted him to the front doors of the bank and both exchanged goodbyes in Gobbledegook, the harsh, violent sounding language drawing a few looks. Dirk smiled at one such onlooker and explained, “I know it may sound a little harsh, but we were only saying goodbye.” a light laugh following his words.

Peter sighed, head down as he stepped out of the ministry, his shift over for the day. He pulled his too loose robe around him, almost all of them were too loose now, he needed to get some new sets, and took a few steps away to clear the entrance for other workers. He was still organising a few folders, trying to pack the parchment inside when he stepped into a puddle and his foot slide from under him. Careening to the side he slipped down fully, straining his leg while the parchment flew out. 

“Oh,” he moaned, sounding on the verge of tears as he ignored the pain in his leg and scrambled for the dropped documents, “S-sorry,” he stuttered, wincing as his leg throbbed.

The scene he was creating was a pretty familiar one - though, perhaps, maybe, possibly, this version of it hadn’t really come out in a while. Though no one would ever accuse Amycus Carrow of preferring to take the high road, it had definitely been several months since he’d sent someone out of the window of the Wyvern ... and followed after them – vaulting (mostly) cleanly through the shattered glass – to continue delivering the merciless beating the poor bastard was on the receiving end of. And because it had been a while since he’d had a scrap** like this, it was several minutes until Amycus registered that someone was speaking to him at all, though he didn’t recognize the voice; the blond was elsewhere mentally, and all but entirely checked out. “I’m uh... I’m a little occupied at the moment, did you need somethin’ or..?” he asked, a little gruffly, but not actually rudely - and to be fair to Amycus, he was exerting himself quite a lot just then.