#ruinousstar

@ruinousstar

Hermione couldn’t believe this was real. She’d managed it. She’d made it the past. And not just any past.....her past. Well, not her past but the Wizarding Britain’s. She was far enough back she could make last change! She could stop Voldemort before he could ruin their world....before he could ruin Harry’s life even.

She’d made all sorts of arrangements before using the ritual that sent her back and now she was a brand new citizen of Britain with a legitimate backstory that would hold water. Thankfully, she did have family in France and then....in the end, she was a member of the Dagworth-Granger family. That was a happy coincidence and she’d immediately claimed the inheirtance and titles that came with it at Gringotts once she arrived.

Now, she had money, a background, and a family name. She could begin her plan and that started by joining the Order of the Phoenix....which is where she sat at one of the inaugeral meetings.

VI Quotes of the Week:

Perhaps he was around to bother some politicians, to stage some one-man protest? He could even be there simply because he wanted to patent or request something for his line of work puttering with motorbikes. Sirius wasn’t there for any of those reasons. He felt nosy. He was bored. Restless. -- ruinousstar, Two Dogs Fighting

One day, when all this was over, he’d be a better friend. He’d treat Tilden better, be more open with him, help him [in as much as he could] with his research, and repay the hufflepuff his unfailing friendship. He didn’t like being a leech on Tilden’s kindness. Doubly when it required so much dishonesty. -- notlibatiusborage, Bad Reputation

@ruinousstar

"A Native American elder once described his own inner struggles in this manner: Inside of me there are two dogs. One of the dogs is mean and evil. The other dog is good. The mean dog fights the good dog all the time. When asked which dog wins, he reflected for a moment and replied, The one I feed the most." — George Bernard Shaw

Date:TBD, Lunchtime Location:  Ministry of Magic atrium.

Getting a job at Hogwarts should have been as easy as applying, interviewing, being seen as the best candidate, and being hired. That did not happen. So through various other routes was Severus trying to get his name cleanly proposed in other ways. But that did not absolve him from his work as a spy for the Dark Lord. And the main source of information in Wizarding Britain was the Ministry. Severus didn’t doubt that there were others gathering information here, but every snippet he was able to find that others had not delayed his punishment for not getting that damned job. 

And he had the advantage of not being a ministry employee. Which meant no-one really noticed him lingering in the atrium walking with surety and subtlety by turns, striding like he had a purpose, and then lurking in different areas. Of course, today would be the day when the only conversations he’d heard so far were about the state of the tea kettle in the sports and games department clucking like a chicken instead of whistling and someone having ballsed up yet another set of paperwork. 

Up until a pair of workers glanced around before commencing their conversation as they fiddled with their pipes. The witch, currently tamping a curved calabash style pipe that looked a little too big for her elderly frame, seemed to be eagerly listening to her younger companion. Severus smoothly wandered closer, all the while flicking through a small pamphlet on legal and illegal poisons for use around the home. He barely took in the words on the page, focusing hard on his peripheral vision and listening as the witch animatedly chatted around her now lit pipe. Whatever it was, it was secret, and seemed to be mildly shocking. 

As he rounded the fountain, the lure of the conversation almost blinded him to an accursedly familiar handsome profile. He looked up from the pamphlet, lip curled in a snarl and his black eyes narrowed hatefully at what was undoubtedly the dark hair and rugged good looks of Sirius Black. Snape began to adjust his wander, trying to keep the droves of people between him and the  utter bastard he very much wanted to beat the shit out of. It wouldn’t do to be caught up in a fracas here if he was trying to seem like an innocent halfblood eager to help the next generation. 

But as much as he hated Black, as he overheard the witch say, “-and they reckon this is one of You Know Who’s top boys do they?”, his attention snapped back to the pamphlet as he leaned against a pillar, outwardly far more casual than he’d ever been in his life, but ears pricked.

VI Quote of the Week:

She remembered the times in which her heart would race wild at the sight of those dark figures with silver masks, thinking about the murderer that hid behind, about how perhaps she had crossed paths with them a thousand times and never knew. Just a year ago, that thought alone would threaten to take the heart of her, and she’d have to fight and swallow her fear like a bad pill. Now? Now she just wanted them gone so that she could enjoy one bloody day in peace without having to be called into action because they’d decided to blow something up.      -- cherrybomb-witch, Why Did It Have To Be Spiders?

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Since the students weren’t wearing their uniforms, he didn’t know to which house they belonged. Come to think of it, he didn’t know Sep’s either but he was sure he could get it in two guesses or fewer.      -- head-auror-moody, Sun-Filled Days of Youth

“Maybe I could get a job as a bartender,” she decided, namely because it was one of the half-dozen Muggle jobs that she knew of, and the bar where they’d grabbed their drinks was still in her line of sight. “I could learn how to make all these fancy drinks! Or I could join a band. Although I’d probably need to learn an instrument first or know how to sing or something. But I could totally use magic to make myself seem good at that!”      -- perennialgrace, Dance the Night Away

VI Quote of the Week:

Snape had seen many smiles, many different flavours and types, but the way Narcissa wielded the corners of her lips like a curse or charm based on the tiniest of flexes was as impressive as it was intimidating. But she was right. From now on he would have to keep his nose extra clean. And given the size of it and the state of his current role in the war (not to mention his lacking personal hygiene) that would be difficult.      -- notlibatiusborage, Only Human

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Sirius didn't trust the walls of Hogwarts yet. It always took time for his mind to rewind from the high alert of being back at the house. Sirius did not trust that he could relax again. That here he was safe, back with the Marauders and friends, and the only things he possibly had to worry about were silly stairs and art, the Giant Squid and The Forbidden Forest and the stern gaze of Professor McGonagall, homework and detentions. Life was a fucking blast at school.      -- ruinousstar, Fistful of Tears

Moreover, there was the desire to make her work appear effortless, everything done with grace and ease.  The appearance of being better than others - the best, even - was a constant to maintain in her life, the carefully crafted idea that everything she did occurred with an other-worldly ease.      -- forever-toujourspur, In the Garden

VI Quote of the Week:

Certainly, she was happy to have borne a child, but still the nagging voice in her head harped on all the things that were not ‘ladylike’ about her appearance.  As saleswitch after saleswitch harped on how lovely she looked, how much her husband would love the gown, Narcissa resisted the urge to scoff, for she knew the truth.  The barely held back whispers of having to take out a few stitches, loosen the bodice and the waist.  She stood tall against these whispers, as she always had, but each one caused her to crumble slightly inside.      -- forever-toujourspur, Lurking Despair

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“Yes, I can see that,” Sirius responded in a slow, soothing tone to the announcement that the things were toys, as if speaking to someone that was quite slow and easy to temper. Well, it was Crabbe, so. He withdrew his hand back to his side as Crabbe stepped to shield his creations, eyes rolling as only a child spoilt and denied what he fancied for the moment being could. “I want to look at ‘em. Gonna deny the nice shop-lady a chance for a paying customer, eh?”      --ruinousstar, Toys Are Us

Putting his wand to his head once more, he thought of the time they had pulled up to the old farm house where his cousins lived, his grandfather waiting to greet them on the porch. Slowly, he started pulling another silvery string of the memory from his mind, allowing himself to focus on that moment. “We would go stay with my cousins during the summers sometimes. My grandfather would always greet us. He seemed to think it was funny to pretend he was dying whenever he saw us, only to leap to his feet and do a funny dance before swinging us around. I think those times were some of the only times I saw my mother let loose a little.” The final strands of the memory contained his mother’s smile. 

     -- edgarbonesknows, How Far We’ve Come

@ruinousstar​ sent: "I have to know, I have to or else you will just rule me until the end of everything because you know and I do not." /For Orion - maybe that verse where he still is alive?

“And let’s pretend for a minute, that I actually know what you’re prattling on about,” Orion hummed, his voice measured and controlled. Everything that in that moment ( and in every moment prior ) that Sirius was not. Though Orion was not as ignorant as he would have his son believe, as if anyone could ever fathom Orion not having a waiting ear in everything faction. Wordlessly, hands folded on his desk, fingers interlacing as dark nighttime eyes settled on Sirius with a dull sort of interest. 

It was hard to imagine that more than ten years had passed between Father and Son, not when the dance the two had long since memorized carried on. Perhaps, perhaps it was time for a change in pace, even if Orion could not abstain losing his advantage. “Be more direct Sirius, I taught you better than that.” Orion chided, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly.