#dirk001

Given the nature of their jobs, Bertram was much more likely to be found in their flat than Dirk. Bertram’s schedule was a lot more erratic. The other Ravenclaw alumnus actually had a desk job that required him to work morning until afternoon during most days of the week. Bertram, on the other hand, mostly had gigs in the evening, and he didn’t even have one every night. So it’s not an unusual occurrence that Bertram would receive owls and the rare calls for Dirk. 

This morning, however, was his first time receiving a call from Dirk’s mum. Bertram was surprised but not so much that he was taken aback that he forgot to be extra respectful. Bertram was making sure that he sounded more polite than usual when his mum let it slip that she didn’t exactly know what Dirk’s job was. Gremlins? He wondered. Why did his mother think that he works with gremlins? Are there even such things?

Barty was alone sitting at a corner in a coffee shop. His eyes followed the patrons of the shop as he waited. Half of them were wizards while the rest were muggles. The latter oblivious to the wizarding folk continued with their mundane lives without being any wiser. Everything will change once the Dark Lord rises. When asked, Barty would say that he was neither bothered nor did he care about the fate of the muggles as long as the Dark Lord gets what he wants. But the fact that he was there in the first place proves otherwise.

He was well aware of Dirk’s true blood status. Barty would be a pretty useless roommate of seven years if he didn’t. He simply didn’t give it a second thought. Dirk carried his own weight and was a decent student who had no trouble catching up with the others even as a muggleborn. Even if other people didn’t bother confirming Dirk’s lie about being a half-blood, Barty thought that it’d be better if they met at a place where no one affiliated with the Death Eaters would see them. When he saw his friend enter, Barty’s lips quirked into a smirk. “Have the Goblins been keeping you locked in your office?”

Barty woke up to the sound of howling wind roaring inside their dormitory. He rose from his weighted blanket to figure what the bloody fuck was going on. Grumbling from his surrounding beds told him that it wasn’t just him woken up earlier than he planned to. Barty looked at the opposite side of the room and found Gilderoy, conjuring winds from the bloody Himalayas to blow-dry his hair. Bloody hell. His groggy throat produced a growl. He considered throwing his pillow but that was such a bloody huge effort for so early in the morning. Knowing that he won’t be able to get some sleep after being disturbed, Barty reluctantly rose into a sitting position before dragging his legs down the side of the bed.  His eyes met Dirk’s who was also stirred awake. “He’s such a fucking peacock,” Barty grumbled low in German. It was always easier to curse outside of your mother tongue. Even if he spoke in another language, he made sure to keep his voice low. Gilderoy had a special talent of always being aware when someone is talking about him. 

“Tell me again why we’re doing this?” Bertram’s knees started acting like noodles as he thought about what he was about to do. The truth is, he knew exactly what the answer was to his question. He agreed, hoping that it would help cheer Brie up, or at least, take her mind off the whole Peter situation.

Brie managed to convince him to ask Dirk out for Valentine’s Day. It was a toss-up between Xanthus and Dirk since they were the two crushes of his that he had classes with. However, Xanthus was already Bertram’s friend. Well, kind of... And for some reason, Bertram found the thought of asking him out to be more dreadful and awkward. He didn’t want to make things weird between them in the future.

The problem was... he didn’t even know whether Dirk liked boys. And by choosing him, Bertram will probably find out soon. Either to his horror or his delight. 

His fellow Gryffindor was already waiting outside the classroom when the class had ended. Bertram had been one of the first people to leave and now, it was just a matter of waiting for Dirk to come out.

dork-cresswell;

it was a slow day. there was a smattering of patrons across the shop tables, but barely, people trickling in in pairs and leaving just as quietly. there was a low hum in the air, a quiet murmur of low voices, but nothing more.

no cupids dancing along the rafters, no music playing out in the background, no petals snowing down upon the visitors. a single vase with a wilting rose sits on the counter. war, it seems, has finally found it’s way to the madam’s little shop.

it was just as well, he supposed. he hadn’t slept well in days, the push and pull of placid energy in the air was rather calming. (a thought occurs to him for a moment before he dismisses it at once – he can’t trek back home every time he has to get a peaceful sleep. Sal will ask questions again, and he and dad will fight again, and he will have to lie to them, again — or, he won’t, and it would be much worse.).

perhaps the air was too calming – he finds himself nodding off, slowly, when someone taps the counter loud enough to wake him — he straightens abruptly, bumps into the counter in the process, his sleep-addled mind deciding to speak for him “whose here – i wasn’t sleeping– i –” he rubs the sleep away from his eyes, clearing his throat. “right. um – how can i help–?”

Ivy sighed in relief as she caught sight of Wendy making her way through the door. Finally, someone was here to relieve her. She had been manning the tavern alone for nearly 3 hours (the three busiest hours of the day) after Isabel had called in sick, and she needed a break. Taking off her apron and throwing it down on the bar, she nodded to Wendy. “I’ll be back. I need to go for a walk.”

She loved the work she did, really. Running a tavern was fun and interesting and always a new adventure. But some days it was exhausting. So many people she had to talk to, so many things she needed to keep track of in order to care for her patrons. And with how often Isabel was sick, she had to do the work of owner, manager, and bartender far too often.

Stopping in the back hallway to grab her cloak off a hook, she wrapped it around her as she stepped into the alley and made her way to the main drag of Hogsmeade. The air was still pretty chilly, but the wind felt heavenly as it whipped across her face, waking her up a bit. Deciding she could use the chance to commiserate with someone who understood her plight, she made her way to madam puddifoot’s. 

Stepping into the tea shop, she caught sight of Dirk at the counter. Her face spread into an amused smirk when she realized that he was dozing off. Moving forward, she stood in front of the counter for a moment, her smirk widening when he didn’t open his eyes. Reaching out, she banged on the counter, and wasn’t disappointed when he jumped. She laughed, leaning against the counter. “Relax, Dirk, it’s just me. I needed a break before I feel asleep at my counter.”

Molly had been feeling slightly off ever since she’d arrived at Pandora Lovegood’s party. First, the feeling had been concentrated in her stomach, as if she’d eaten some bad food, but it began to spread. The room would spin when she turned too quickly, and her vision had started to blur, making her see things that weren’t really there. She had almost decided to give up and go home when she experienced the strangest thing of all:

The room had gone black.

The reception hall, which had previously been full of people and lights, talking and drinking and dancing... it was all gone. There was nothing but darkness, no beginning and no end. And she was all alone.

Terrified, Molly cried out. She groped inside her pockets, hoping to find her wand, but it was gone. She had given it up at the door. She began to feel the panic creeping up on her, threatening to engulf her, when a bright spot appeared in the darkness - it was another human, and she recognized him. Dirk Cresswell.

Suddenly, it all made sense to her. She was on a mission. Of course she was. How could she have forgotten? Dumbledore had asked her and Dirk to find a very important object... an enchanted ring! Yes, it was all coming back to her know. Feeling somewhat calmer, she approached Dirk, smiling politely. “ Do you know where we’re going, then? ”