archive / abandoned

prompt: softer prompts. 

Silence settles between them as her voice trails off, heavy as a winter duvet. Intertwining his hands, Elphias peers at Alice from under his bushy brows. What she is asking of him is simple enough to do — considering the situation, who wouldn’t want to hear reassuring words from a friend ? 

Yet, Elphias hesitates visibly. He opens his mouth, starts to say ❝ Alice… ❞ and, when nothing else follows, he closes his mouth, sighing through his nose. It’s not that simple — truth be told.

Alice only drags her eyes out of the middle distance and up to his face the second time he says her name; they're gentle and thoughtful the way they always are, but the lines around them seem more pronounced than ever, somehow.

He’s no good at telling animals what to do when he’s not a four legged creature, but he’s passable at it when he’s a dog. He might even say he’s good at it, and it served them well getting animals out of the way of a wolf going forty miles an hour. 

He rolls the head of a doll that met an unfortunate decapitation accident at the cat, just to see what’ll happen.  

The cat, for its part, seems mostly interested in cleaning its paws at the moment. It bats at the doll head once, blinks speculatively, and then bats it back across the floor towards Sirius before laying down with a magnificent stretch.

"Glad to see your priorities are in the right place," James laughs. ( A bit hypocritically, of course. They both know damn well he'd sooner jump a window than toss even one of Harry's things. )

"I hope you've got those tiny books glued in there," he adds more genuinely. Not that he thinks Sirius is too stupid to baby-proof a dollhouse, but a large chunk of his brainpower is dedicated to things that toddlers will stuff in their mouths lately. It doesn't just turn off.

The cat, for its part, seems mostly interested in cleaning its paws at the moment. It bats at the doll head once, blinks speculatively, and then bats it back across the floor towards Sirius before laying down with a magnificent stretch.

"Glad to see your priorities are in the right place," James laughs. ( A bit hypocritically, of course. They both know damn well he'd sooner jump a window than toss even one of Harry's things. )

"I hope you've got those tiny books glued in there," he adds more genuinely. Not that he thinks Sirius is too stupid to baby-proof a dollhouse, but a large chunk of his brainpower is dedicated to things that toddlers will stuff in their mouths lately. It doesn't just turn off.

"you must be a weasley." she murmurs to the redhead who's looking more than awkward at the head table before the beginning of the year feast. she was pretty sure he was the new care of magical creatures professor.

She's one of very few professors he doesn't recognize ( A shocking number of his own old teachers are colleagues, now, ) so he takes a fairly-safe guess, "You're... Garcia, I think? Transfiguration?"

"Entire month," Charlie confirms with a grin. Sometimes he worries the rest of the family will forget him eventually, living so far away... It's a little gratifying, honestly, to see how excited Fred is now.

"What, am I not allowed to miss my favorite little troublemakers?" He nudges his shoulder against his little brother's, chuckling.

"Don't tell anyone, but," he admits, "I might be working with the expo at the Conservation next month. They're putting together a show, maybe, about magical creatures in Sub-Saharan Africa. We'll see."

prompt: priory of the orange tree.

Horace directs a smile towards his former student — but it does not reach his eyes. Indeed, it is too tight there, at the corners, mirroring his well-hidden confusion. What brought on this sudden talk about loyalty ? Horace brings his hands towards the lapels of his coat, and takes a perhaps too-tight hold of them. Is it about … ? No, the thought is brushed aside as though it is a mere speck of dust, not even giving it time to settle, and Horace shifts from one foot to the other.

It’s not about him. It can’t be. Thinking this does little to reassure him, however.

Of course, now he's a grown man with his own way with people, and the flicker of uncertainty in the older wizard's face doesn't escape him.

New Year, on the other hand, she loves.

What’s not to love about a big party to ring in a fresh start?

She always finds somewhere to go out for New Year’s Eve — whatever’s the biggest, loudest, rowdiest party she can find. She’s drunk in a crowd screaming cheers at midnight, she’s dancing with strangers out in the snow, she’s coming home past dawn with a black eye or a broken nose. It’s her favorite time of year.

"Good to hear," he nodded. Oliver deserved it; he'd always been a good kid, enthusiastic, with his head on straight. Charlie had been looking forward to seeing what he'd make of himself ( as though it was ever going to be anything but a top-notch quadball player ) since his first tryout.

"We certainly have to be quick, sometimes," he laughed, shaking his head like that would shake off the compliment. "Sometimes it seems like the Reserve is nothing but adventures. Injuries, mostly, or near-injuries... I have gotten to tag along on a few, ahhhh, acquisitions, though."

Sometimes when they brought in a new dragon, it was an unwanted former pet or a wild dragon that was living too close to a town for comfort. Sometimes they came by new dragons... less legally, as it were.