Glenda had been watching Tristan play in the living room from the kitchen when she heard a knock come from the front door. The sound had caught her so off guard that she nearly slid off the tabletop and dropped to the floor in shock. No one came to the house, with Tristan still being too young to have friends and her increasingly anti-social ways, so it took a few moments for her to recollect herself.

Who could it possibly be? Tristan had given no notice to the knock, continuing to play with his new dinosaur and Quidditch sets on the floor. Thinking it would be best to not involve him, Glenda quickly walked toward the front door without saying anything. As she walked, she thought about what it could be. She supposed it was getting close to her son's birthday (three in two weeks!), so it was very possible there was an early gift in the post. That thought calmed her for a moment... until she remembered that wizards didn't use post-officers. She stopped in her tracks, now feeling unsteady about who could be behind the door.

No. The war was over. This was not England. She did not need to be overly paranoid anymore. She looked back at her son briefly, who had still given no heed to anything outside of his own interests. There was nothing wrong. It was normal to have people visit other people's houses. She continued to sooth herself with positive thoughts until she finally made it to the door.

Just for food measure, Glenda quietly pressed her face up against the door, peaking through the hole. "Sturgis?" she whispered, genuinely surprised to see a familiar face so far away from where it should be. Well this was--- unexpected. A slight frown formed on her face, unsure of what to think of this. Was it wrong that her mind automatically went to whether this would be good or bad? Taking a deep breath, she clung to the handle and threw the door open.

"Sturgis!" Glenda repeated, feigning a surprised tone easily. She produced a well-trained smile for him.

It was a beautiful funeral, as funerals go.

Miranda puffed her cheeks, hunched forward with her hands clasped between her knees. She felt like a child, stuck at an adult party and forced to sit on the couch in silence until it was time to go. There were things she could be doing, that she was supposed to be doing, but Miranda couldn't get herself up off the couch. How were people able to stand around and talk, and eat, and---some were even laughing. They had just buried their friends, their family, and now, apparently, it was time to eat off of trays and share stories and start talking about this funky smell that was coming from---

She let out a long breath and slumped back into the couch, putting a hand to her forehead to try and numb the headache she'd had for the past two days. For the past few months she'd had this constant throbbing in her skull and it didn't look like it was going away any time soon. Miranda stretched out her legs, knowing that she would have to stay at this gathering of funeral attendees until the last of the guests left. She was like family to Madam Rosemerta, she had to stay.

The sarcastic thought made Miranda's chest hitch and her hand slipped to cover her eyes to hopefully stop herself from crying again.

"Are you sure?"

Tristan nodded to his mother, his blue eyes wide as he stared up at her. Despite understanding that her child felt perfectly temperate, Glenda still pulled his coat closer to his chest and gently pushed his hat down to cover his face. For her, the temperature had nothing to do with it; anxiety and annoyance did. Anxiety because they still had twenty minutes until it was time to depart for their portkey, and annoyance because Rhys Nott had dared to attack them in the middle of the city just a few hours ago. Fortunately, Alice had been there....

Glenda glanced over at her friend, feeling nothing but brusque. Logically speaking, she knew she should be thankful that Alice was trained for things like this, and would make all the right decisions. Leaving Milan was without a doubt the safest option for Tristan at this point, but that didn't stop Glenda from feeling downright bitter about going back to England so soon. She wasn't ready yet, Tristan wasn't ready yet--- but there was no choice. They couldn't risk another attack: Tristan was too young, and soon the press might get wind of things, not to mention the location of their house might get revealed in the mix of it all. So, for the time being, back to England they went.

A sigh escaped her lips as she waited for another minute to pass by. She knew that this would be the time to talk with Alice, or at least something, but Glenda couldn't quite bring herself to turn and open her mouth to the other woman just yet.

WHO: Galvin Gudgeon and Gleny Prewett
WHAT: He brings over muffins and she's moving out :(
WHERE: Gleny's house
WHEN: Today!

( And no matter what you do you'll see things that make you think of her )

WHO: Gideon and Gleny Prewett
WHAT: bein cute!
WHERE: Their bedroom, Tuesday September 1.
STATUS: Finished Log

( But don't forget who's takin' you home / And in whose arms you're gonna be / So darlin' save the last dance for me / Baby don't you know I love you so / Can't you feel it when we touch / I will never never let you go / I love you oh so much )

"And you know what? There is not a sale worth going out in this heat, I'm serious!"

Javier grinned, putting up his hands in a defensive manner, "I'm sorry, but I don't need a pair of robes that badly, have you seen those temperatures? I'm surprised Fortescue's is still standing, would've thought they'd have melted awaaaaaay----whoa, what is---"

He gripped onto the desk, eyes widening as he rumbled and rolled away because the fucking building was shaking! Javier let out numerous words that were not politically correct to say on the wireless, and toppled out of his chair, busting his head on the floor. Strings of angry Spanish soared out of his mouth as he crawled up to his knees, and Javier grabbed the microphone.

Through the glass he saw that the other members of his staff were looking like they'd just been shot, and it took Javier a few good seconds to realize what the fuck happened, as another rumbling, rolling coursed through the studio. Javier dropped to the ground, covering his head with his hand as he shouted angrily into the microphone:

"ARE WE EXPERIENCING A FUCKING EARTHQUAKE IN DIAGON ALLEY?"

ooc: http://www.scribbld.net/users/valesco_mods/32947.html

Gideon loved his family. He loved having them with him and he loved that they hadn't gone through with the idea of sending them into hiding. Gideon didn't love that Gleny was back in the limelight and more popular than ever. It made him sick to his stomach every day when Gleny said good-bye to work. What if something happened and he wasn't there? What if she died for real this time? What would Gideon do then? Even though it made him sick, it had been her choice and Gideon got to spend a lot of time with his son, who was just nearly ready to walk.

They were in the living room, Tristan was on his back, freshly changed and quietly waking up from his nap. Tristan was trying to focus on his dad, who was lying on his side, dividing his attention between Tristan and the random whatever was on television. When the little boy rolled over and stuck his butt up in the air (or rather, Gideon's nose) Gideon laughed and offered his hand to help Tristan stand up.

"Nah?!" Tristan asked, in a near shriek, tugging on Gideon's shirt to pull himself upright. He was alright standing, so long as he had something to old onto, and Gideon was just the right size on his side for Tristan to side-step along him and still have something to hold onto.

"She's at work," Gideon said, sure he was talking about Gleny. "Do you wanna go see Aunt Molly and cousins today?"

"Nananana." Gideon didn't know how one sound could mean more than one thing, but obviously it did to Tristan. Gideon just patted Tristan's butt and handed him a cracker from the package he'd been eating. Tristan waved it about with a half-toothless grin. "Nah!"

"Mummy's at work, Tristan. Here, let's work on these walking muscles. You have to learn to walk before you can fly, that's the rule. Just don't tell mummy that daddy took you around the yard on his broom last week," Gideon said as he twisted around with Tristan in his arms so he was sitting with his legs stretched out and feet pressed against the couch with Tristan holding onto the couch cushion.

"Come on boy, yes okay eat the cracker first but we wanna show mummy later don't we?" Gideon asked as Tristan took a little bite of the cracker and waved it at him. "You're so close, I'm right here." Tristan said in a soothing tone and holding his hands out for the toddler.

Tristan looked sceptical of Gideon's words (as sceptical as an 11 month old can) but reached out his hands to Gideon's, which were just out of his reach with still holding onto the couch. The door opened as Gley came in and Tristan squealed, "NAH!" and took a couple of steps to Gideon, standing there between Gideon's legs looing between the both of him and just holding onto his cracker as Gideon looked up at Gleny with a grin.

Who: Prewetts!
When: Sunday, April 19th, 1980
What: READ TO FIND OUT.
Where: Portree, Scotland.

( She couldn't stop herself from letting out a shriek as the front door crashed down to the ground. )

In all of her years at Hogwarts, in all of her years being a prefect and working on a team full of the best students in Hogwarts, Phoebe Smethwyck had never been as impressed as she was right now as she stared around the Great Hall. Illuminated with candles in all shapes and sizes (and colors, a nifty charm a sixth year had found), the tables surrounding the dance floor were decorated with pumpkins, spiderwebs, and fall leaves, creating a spooky, yet beautiful design. The Ghosts of Hogwarts had volunteered to mingle more than usual (she thanked Nearly Headless Nick profusely, and promised to hold him a belated Death-Day party), captivating the guests with stories---how much truth they held, she couldn't be sure, but they were interesting nonetheless.

The band was a new kind of wizard rock, a bit more political than the Hobgoblins, W.O.A.R. There had been a lot of discussion at the prefect meetings about whether or not they should try and book them, but at the end of the day the naysayers (read: the Slytherins) were outvoted, and the band with the hit song "Do You Believe in M.A.G.I.C" was creating an incredible atmosphere.

So---people looked happy. They were laughing, smiling, and just---happy. Not something Phoebe felt like the wizarding world had been in a long time, and she was glad to be a big part of it.

Now, if only she could find a reason to be happy, herself.

ooc: No wands! Just your ID is needed. Everyone is welcome!

Alice could now say she understood why people made such a fuss over weddings.

Well, no, not really---she would enjoy having the pictures with her friends, and dancing, but everything else was really unnecessary to her. Not that it was bad, no, no it was terribly fun to dress up and see everyone else dress up, but she had never been one to seek attention. And, really, that's all a wedding was, making sure everyone in the whole world knew that the bride and groom loved each other very much. Let's show you by wearing a big white dress and snazzy tuxedo!

No, no--they could just look back at the year Frank and Alice have had as a married couple, to understand what they meant to each other. Admittedly, it wasn't as stressed as some other's may have been, thankfully, but they still had made it. A lot of people don't even get to one year, and Alice was very, very proud of them.

Of course, their marriage might be over the moment Frank found out she helped a certain Slytherin sneak into their house last night, but Alice had faith in her husband; or, at least, she had faith in her ability to produce tears on the spot, and therefore confuse her husband into forgiving her.

Hey--to make a marriage work, you have to know how to survive.

With the party in full swing, Alice made her way through the crowd, thanking people for coming and accepting compliments and all the other things a bride-again was supposed to do. It was really nice, seeing all of her friends with happy, smiling faces, as it had been such a rough year. Maybe there was a reason for weddings afters all.