#infinitelyfairminded

Despite the biting cold, Ally had never felt warmer. Her first trip to Hogsmeade left her speechless and damn near buzzing with adrenaline, her heart its own hearth that sent red-hot joy coursing through her veins. (although one could argue that was the effects of the BUTTERBEER she had downed.)

She slowed, letting the crowds of students dressed in black and yellow filter through. She wanted to sit outside for a while, admire the grounds and basking in the innate happiness she felt, before returning to work on her charms and potions. Her hands adjusted her scarf, soft smile lifting the corners of her lips as she thought back on the day.

A few chords in and Sam was singing quietly to himself. While Sebastian might joke about them sitting in front of a fire and belting out Kumbaya as ridiculous, the blond found it almost soothing. It was like he was back camping with the cub scouts or with his own family. He’d admit missing them already could count as ridiculous, but now he couldn’t see or hear from them at all whereas before he could at least check in via text or a quick phone call. He was absolutely the boy at college who did that on the regular. He faltered a little as he heard a twig snap behind him, standing up and brandishing his guitar as a weapon.

“Oh my god, dude, it’s just you,” he said with a sigh, seeing his fellow lacrosse player. “For a second I thought I was going to have to use Leela as a bat.” He slowly put his guitar down and sat back on the log in front of the fire, stroking the guitar’s side on instinct, the adoration he had for his instrument on full display. “Any requests?” Sam asked, smiling easily once he knew there wasn’t any danger.

(kind of) continued from here.

         the whispers upon cedric entering the leaky cauldron had been enough to alert ron to his presence. even in his slightly un-sober state, he could still pick up on the murmurs of wonderment at the bloody fantastic walking god everyone felt sorry for cedric damn diggory. prisoner of war. golden boy. god, he felt like he was back in school again hearing everyone diss harry’s chances in favour of supporting their hufflepuff king. as if anyone would have doubted harry potter. and yet, they did. in favour of this guy. sure, maybe back in the day ron had worn one of those damn badges just to piss harry off, but had he ever really liked the guy? maybe at one point. now? with his obnoxious friendliness and his insistence of making this awkward? no. he couldn’t stand him. the likes of viktor krum would have been far more palatable to swallow compared to this. at least ron knew viktor was dumber than he was and hermione would tire of him quickly. cedric? with his dashing good looks and probable matching intelligence and that brilliant sob story to keep her hooked? ron didn’t like that one bit.

          ❝ no thanks, ❞ he muttered sharply in return, ringing off the dampness on his hand with a heavy and frustrated sigh. truthfully, he was done. even his sanctuary of diagon alley during the darkest of moments with hermione had been completely ruined. even the shop had been tainted by seeing them together, hand in hand walking down the street. the bloody cheek of it. ron wouldn’t have dared parade in front of hermione like that, rubbing her nose in it. hell, ron hadn’t even thought about moving on and here hermione was with a new man on her arm. ❝ look, we don’t have to do this, alright? the whole pretending to be mates thing? we both know it’s not going to happen. ❞ maybe it would have come across far less just some drunk aggression if he’d been sober and said the exact same thing. but with his slightly slurred speech, the alcohol on his breath and the ever so slight swaying on the bar stool, ron was entirely sure excuses would be made on his behalf.

          ❝ how am i? ❞ the bitter laugh was coupled with the shaking of his head in utter disbelief. what sort of arsehole walked into a bar, saw his current girlfriend’s long term ex knowing exactly how rough the end of that relationship had been and thought i’ll go talk to him? cedric probably had a few screws loose thanks to his time with you-know-who, ron thought. ❝ damn fantastic. can’t you tell? i’m celebrating. ❞ a heavy hand lifted his empty glass before slamming it back down onto the bar top with a half sigh, half snarl. ❝ enjoying your freedom, i see. ❞ a darkness was brewing in him, the snake of jealousy curling through him mixed with his unshakable anger that left him digging his nails into his palms on the table top. had he been smarter, he possibly would have grabbed his coat, bid his farwells and gone back to the shop to stew in his anger - possibly take it out on some of the storage crates that needed moving.

The end of term, and Lupin was already packed to leave the school once again, this time for good. All his things were stored away in his suitcase, magically expanded to hold all of his belongings (though he owned very little to begin with). He would be leaving before dinner that evening, though the house elves were kind enough to bring up something for the road a few minutes before. Lovely creatures, they were, and he’d left a plate of chocolate as a thank you.

He looked at the door with clear confusion when there came a knock, and he didn’t hesitate to go open it to see who it was. “Ah. Mister Diggory. Come in,” he stepped aside, letting the young man into his now-former office. “Would you like some hot chocolate? I should really be finishing this pot off...”

You should write with me on my Blaine!!

roleplaying habits questions ( accepting // @infinitelyfairminded )

roleplaying habits questions ( accepting // @infinitelyfairminded )

It takes effort to soothe the rage roiling inside of him. It’s not Cedric’s fault, not Cedric’s fault. He’s angry though, more angry than he can recall ever being, and despite having iron-willed self-control, far more than is common is his sixteen-year-old peers, for a moment, he teeters on the edge of lashing out at the nearest target, simply to purge himself of the pent up aggression. 

But no, hurting Cedric right now, while sometimes cathartic, would only hurt them both. Cedric is not who he is angry with. Taking a deep breath, he pulls Cedric’s hand up to his mouth and kisses it. The kisses aren’t new—he’d quickly ascertained that physical affection was the fastest way to get through to Cedric when he went away. They’ve taken on a more intimate meaning for him these past two years, however. “It’s not just a cut, Ced,” he says solemnly. “I promised you, they’d never touch you again. They made me a liar.” Ever since he’d been charged with Cedric’s training, he’d taken his schoolwork much more seriously, putting a particular focus on healing magic, until he was confident he could take care of Cedric. Potions, charms, tinctures, anything he came across that seemed like it was worth knowing. He puts them to use now, pulling out a salve and murmuring “ferula.”