{ the history of a marauders era rpg }

valesco_history @ 2014-06-29T00:39:00

2014-06-29T03:35:10Z

WHO: Jake Bexley and Lottie Sweeting
WHAT: Introductions
WHERE: Gryffindor common room
WHEN: 1979

Jake swiped an un-bitten apple swiftly out of the grasp of a fifth year, ignoring the sounds of annoyance that followed. He crossed the common room with a slow stride as he took in his current environment. There were Gryffindors studying, playing, fake-studying, fighting, and there was a bit of public snogging that no one cared to see. He kicked the leg of the chair that Ralph Merridew and Miranda Dodderidge had somehow squeezed into, causing them to tumble out with their limbs all tangled.

“Bexley!” Dodderidge yelped, her face quaffle red. Jake grinned and took another bite of his apple as he kept across the room, once again not acknowledging the tiny bit of havoc he’d created. Instead, he made his way over to the table by the fireplace, where his subject of interest was attempting some complex braids and twists in her hair while a mirror hovered in front of her pretty face. Jake came around the back of the redhead’s chair and he stared curiously until she noticed him.

He took that as an invitation and grabbed hold of the seat beside her, flipping it around so he could rest his arms and chin on the back of the chair.

“You’re Lottie Sweeting, right?”

Charlotte chewed on her lip as she tried her best to get her hair to stay put, but what she really needed was a third hand to possibly do some crafty charm work. Every time she moved on hand or the other, a piece hair fell out of place and it was extremely frustrating. Not that she was going anywhere special, but she was determined to figure out how to make it work ever since she had seen that seventh year Slytherin girl copy her last hair style. There had been a rumor she’d gone out with Stubby Boardman. Lottie didn’t believe a word of it, everyone knew that she was really not so subtly sneaking around with Aubrey. He must of been boring in bed if Franziska kept telling tales about a summer fling with a rockstar. That was neither here, nor there, she refused to be outdone as fair as her hair was concerned.

Catching sight of someone standing behind her in the mirror, Lottie ducked her head to catch sight of a face, but he was already moving to sit beside her. She did her best to contain her huff, didn’t he see that she was busy? She was going to inform him of just that when he spoke up and she caught sight of just who it was. Of course she knew exactly who Jake Bexley was. She knew who everyone on each of the house Quidditch teams were, but she especially knew of him. Pulling her eyes from him, she looked back to the mirror focusing her attention once more on her hair. And possibly trying to figure out what exactly she was supposed to say.

After a moment, she tentatively took one hand off her hair, then the other, allowing herself a triumphant grin when it all stayed as it should. “I am.” she finally answered grabbing the mirror out of the air, inspecting her hard work before allowing herself to look back to Jake, curious as to why he was even speaking to her. Not that he had any reason not to, but it was just--- unexpected. And that silly little crush she used to harbor when he first made the team, well that didn’t help much either.

Jake took another bite of his apple, looking her over. Gertrude had teased that he’d had a fan at one of the team practices, and it had him intrigued. Of course, Jake was currently snogging Kobe Catchlove between classes so he couldn’t seem too intrigued, but it was always nice to get to know your supporters.

“I hear you like quidditch,” he said as he spun the apple on its axis between his two fingers. “Why didn’t you try out for the team? You seem fit enough.”

He flashed a grin. She was already more interesting than Kobe, because Kobe couldn’t tell the difference between a quaffle and a snitch if both hit her in the head. She was a good snogger, though, and Jake often had to quiet her rather dim conversations with a kiss. Not too much of a problem, really, but it would make life a little less dull if he could actually speak to and snog a pretty face.

The apple got tossed between his hands for a moment before he took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “I bet you’d be a good seeker.”

Lottie pursed her lips, unsure if she was liked the direction of this conversation. Yes, she loved quidditch, obviously she was fit enough, and she would have made a most excellent seeker. There was once a time where she wanted to nothing other than play seeker for the Pride of Portree. After all the games her father used to take her to (at least one per season) she couldn’t think of anything else. She spent ages in her backyard running around chasing charmed snitches that never hovered more than five feet off the ground.

It wasn’t until she was nine and her father attempted to teach her to fly that and she got her broom about ten feet off the ground that she discovered that she had a paralyzing fear of heights. She tried so very hard to overcome it but all that resulted in was her blacking out and breaking her arm falling off her broom. She didn’t give up til years later during her first flying lesson at Hogwarts, when this time she broke her other arm. Lottie had cried for a week over her crushed dream.

Her dad started sending Prophet clippings then. Teaching her how to pick out the relevant stats and how they all fit together. How to keep track of them herself while watching the game. And Lottie found that to be more fun than it would ever be to actually fly around on a broom herself, though there was no way that she was admitting to Jake Bexley that there was no way she could get more than eight feet off the ground without severe anxiety. That there was a reason, despite her love for the game, she never sat front row of the stands.

“Well,” she started, snatching the apple from him when he tried to toss it between his hands again. “I would have made a good seeker, but then I would have to spend the entire game focusing on just the snitch. Sure, a pivotal part of the game, but you miss so much if that’s all you pay attention to. I’d rather appreciate the whole game.” Feeling particularly bold, Lottie took a bite of his apple before handing it back to him. “I probably know more about how each of the players play than most of the actual players do.”

He didn’t really hear anything she said after she put the apple to her lips, well, he did, but it wasn’t as important as the image he was currently building in his head. Jake’s eyes involuntarily widened, and after a moment of gawking, he grinned. It had been a good decision to come over here as it was turning out that he had the best fans.

“That’s interesting,” he said with a nod, running a hand through his hair before standing. Jake tossed the apple over his shoulder and put his hand on the table, leaning into it. She liked quidditch and she was hot, that’s all Jake needed to know. He looked at her curiously. “Wait, is Lottie short for Charlotte?”

Jake’s attention span was that of a gnat’s, and while he questioned her he reached forward and tucked a loose curl behind her ear, his fingertips brushing along her jawline. He’d always liked redheads, still not quite over Lily Evans marrying that dumb Potter bloke.

She grinned at him, pleased to have his attention. “I think so. I want to know everything I can.” She wondered if it would be to much to reveal, for example, that she noticed Jake tended to favor shooting to the left goal over the right. She had settled on some random gossip about Louis Bonaccord that was bound to give them a bit of an edge when she switched topics on her.

“I--uh-- yes.” She answered a bit distracted by Jake’s fingers and her hair and--- blinking a few times trying to regain her thoughts. Hadn’t she just seen him snogging Catchlove not too long ago. She remember specifically this piece of gossip because Phoebe had placed her hand over her mouth to get her to shut up about how much she disliked Kobe Catchlove. As far as she knew though, it wasn’t as if they were actually dating. She resisted the urge to lean into his touch none the less.

She liked Jake though, so there was no way Charlotte was going to let him walk away thinking she wasn’t interested. Or walk away at all really. Propping her chin in her hand she leaned in looking up to him with a bit of a pout. “You’re not leaving already, are you? I was hoping to convince you to give me some insider secrets. I’d die to know what really goes on in the locker rooms.”

Jake raised a hand with a pout of his own, “Please forgive me for having to cut this short, I’ve got dueling club all the way on the west end of the castle.”

With his sights set on becoming an auror, the dueling club was one of the best ways to get into shape. Along with the quidditch, the DADA Club, and Charms club, Jake’s schedule was pretty packed, but he knew he would be able to find time for the girl who was quickly becoming his favorite fan. Don’t think he missed the look in her eye; Jake Bexley didn’t miss a beat.

He bit his tongue, heavily amused by this girl. Pretty, liked quidditch, and bold. Those should be necessary qualifications for getting into Gryffindor.

“We’ll talk later and I’ll give you the scoop,” he said, beginning to walk backwards. Jake sidestepped just in time to avoid hitting a coffee table and knocking over an exploding snap card castle. He wagged a finger at her. “And I’m not calling you ‘Lottie.’ Your mother gave you a beautiful name and you’re gonna use it.”

His eyes crinkled with his grin and he offered her a quick salute, “I’ll see you later, Charlotte.”

valesco_history @ 2014-02-23T18:03:00

2014-02-23T22:19:37Z

Who: Chester and Cameron Scabior
Where: Cameron's Apothicary Shop
When: June 7, 1980
What: Brotherly Bonding? Ha.

“Get out.”

The words fell from Cameron’s lips even before he had fully registered what was going on. There was perhaps a more tactful way to deal with the situation, but he was finding it hard to think of it at the moment. It had been a bad morning, week even, but more importantly he had only gotten about four hours of sleep and with everything on his plate right now he could not deal with this. He absolutely refused.

“Funny,” the other man said as Cameron watched him pick up a vial at random, inspect it, then return it back to its resting place with a disapproving frown. “Just one cheeky remark about my clothing choice, and the other shop keep was out the door leaving this-- quaint place in my care. Lucky for you, I am not a thief.”

“Get out.” Cameron repeated with gritted teeth. Growing up alone, it was unnerving to stand across from someone who had your face. Sure, Cameron was aware he existed. That he had a brother that his father deemed more worthy to carry on the family name, leaving him an unnecessary spare. He just never expect to ever come face to face with him. He certainly didn’t expect it to be like looking into a mirror, well, that is if it was a mirror that made you look like a pretentious fuck anyways. Though he probably should've expected that one. Either way, he just could not deal with this right now. Whatever he wanted, whatever it was that he found important enough a reason to contact him for the first time in twenty one years, well he could just take it and shove it up his---

“Now, there is no need to be rude. Where is this ‘southern hospitality’ that everyone keeps telling me about?”

Cameron felt rigid watching this man look over his shop with disdain. “I feel like exceptions can be made considering the circumstances.” He managed finally standing a bit straighter refusing to be intimidated by this British version of himself. “What are you even doing here?”

“Would you believe me if I said I felt it was time to catch up, brother?” Chester asked, and Cameron just blinked at him. “No? Well its a comfort to know you didn’t turn out dumb. I digress. I was sent to check on you. With Margaret's death, we had to be sure you didn’t suddenly think it a good time to find your long lost family. You showing up would cause quite the scandal, which is something the Scabior family generally likes to avoid.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. That was what this was about? The woman who raised him hadn’t even been dead for a week, and the Scabiors had to make sure they could avoid scandal. Cameron could feel the numbness spreading across his fingers and he was certain he wouldn’t be able to hex him if he wanted to. “I really have no plans to ever set foot in England.” He eventually said once he regained the ability to form words into sentences. “Or any desire to have anything to with the Scabiors. I’m sure you missed the memo, but I changed my name years ago.”

Cameron did his best not to squirm under Chester’s calculating gaze, “Fantastic, we’re on the same page then.” Chester clasped his hands together, looking quite pleased that this didn’t take longer than ten minutes. “With that all sorted, I’ll just take my leave.”

The audacity this man had, to come and go so quickly. Cameron had thought he lucked out being raised by Aunt Margo, but now he was certain. “One last thing before you go,” he called, and when Chester paused and turned back to face him, Cameron punched him soundly across the face, feeling satisfied with the crack that filled the air. He couldn’t help but smile when Chester finally straighten himself up, hand covering his nose, blood seeping through his fingers. “Sorry. I’ve always wondered what I would look like with a broken nose.”

Nicola! Summer, 1981

2014-02-03T23:11:41Z

Mattie pursed her lips to try and hide her laughter. Joseph was being absolutely ridiculous as he mimicked the stuffy crowd of the party. She had waitressed a few events at this hall and usually could have some fun with the guests, but tonight was a rather droll evening. A string quartet provided the music, there had been a few boring speeches earlier, and the dance floor was quite bare. For a wizarding event, Mattie was surprised at how banal it all was.

She remembered the days where this would’ve been her norm. Mattie had slipped some chocolates to a little girl who looked ready to fall asleep and slip under the table earlier, knowing precisely how she felt. Her parents had tried to force her into this lifestyle, but she’d never fit into it, she’d never enjoyed it. After the earthquake...Mattie had decided that she would waste no more time doing anything she didn’t enjoy, and it had been almost a year of being at peace with herself.

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” she said, swatting away his hand away from the hem of her skirt. They’d hidden behind a curtain until dinner was to be served, and while it was fun, Mattie had no desire to get too handsy with the public so close. She jerked away again, this time stepping out from behind the curtain.

Unfortunately, she’d stepped right on the hem of a passerby’s dress, and the sound of a rip struck her ears. Mattie’s hands flew to cover her mouth, “I am so sorry, Miss!”

February 14th, 1980

2012-11-10T04:25:31Z

WHO: Ellsinore Branstone and Elliot Alderton
WHAT: Rewind of their first date!
WHERE: Fancy schmancy restaurant!

She needed a paper bag.

Being that her mind was on a loop of breathless, nonsensical, anxious statements, Elsie couldn't recall if she was a particularly punctual person or not, but she was as of this moment. In fact, she had been sitting at this table for fifteen minutes, studiously avoiding all the stares she imagined she must be getting, about halfway to twisting her serviette to shreds in her lap, on the verge of hyperventilation.

It was no use telling herself this was nothing to get worked up over, because that would be a very big lie, and it would likely just cause her to abuse the serviette faster. Even if a date was hardly the end of the world.

Only, it was, it really was, and she hadn't even been on one of them in three years. One lone encounter with a male specimen kept her from nunhood, and she would have preferred altogether that it had not occurred.

Though Elsie tried not to make that knowledge very public, Nora was one of the few remaining friends she had from school, and she knew about it, and that was very embarrassing, and it made Elsie a little sad to be without real friends for so long, so when Nora insisted she go on this blind date, she complied. She had pressed for details, but all Nora told her was that it was someone who understood her situation… whatever that meant.

And while she may be wishing heartily she hadn't agreed, perhaps this was good! Just the swift kick in the rear she needed to not get so lost in her head, particularly around this time of year. No, this was good, and it didn't matter that today was Valentine's Day and she needed a mystery date to celebrate it.

At least, it didn't matter all that much…

Telling herself sternly to smile, she released her death grip on the sad piece of cloth in her lap and fixed her clasped hands on the table top, beaming at a man walking past her. No, not him. That was all right, she could keep smiling! There was a periwinkle ribbon in her hair, the first time she'd worn something of the sort since her first year at St Mungo's, and it was to identify her to her date tonight. She resisted patting it to know it was in its place. And at last, here was someone slowing by her table! Elsie looked up to fix him with a smile, and blinked suddenly. No, that wasn't—it couldn't be—

Her smile dropped rather like a stone.

Elliot had waited outside of the restaurant, pacing along the pavement as he decided whether or not he should show his face. He’d always disliked Valentine’s Day and hadn’t ‘properly’ done anything for it in a few years. His wife had been pregnant with Liam during their first Valentine’s together and all Millie had desired were chocolates, the next year he’d forgotten and they’d had a horrid row, and by the next go around they’d practically hated each other, having been forced together only because of the baby and obligation.

And now she was dead.

He’d told Nora that it hadn’t even been a year since Millie had died from the virus that had struck the wizarding neighborhood, but his friend, one of few that made an effort to keep in contact with him from Hogwarts, had insisted that he’d been miserable for far longer than she’d been gone. It was true, of course, but that didn’t mean Elliot was okay with going out in public with another woman. He knew the women that Nora hung around with, and if it was that Spinnet whirlwind of a girl he was going to strangle his friend. The last thing he wanted was someone who was going to insist on moving things at a pace he sorely did not desire, and it was only when the clock reached a minute-to their agreed upon date time that he stepped into the restaurant.

Maybe she would be a troll and he wouldn’t feel guilty about ditching her. No, no he would feel guilty, and with his luck he’d end up spending far too much money on someone he had no need to see again and then he’d be broke until he got paid next. Work, he’d rather be at work, because at least there he knew he wasn’t wasting his time and---no way. Was Nora out of her mind? Branstone? Was that Branstone?

Elliot pulled back from the entrance of the restaurant before the other woman could see him. Bloody hell, what had Nora been thinking? Elsie Branstone was the perfect princess of Ravenclaw, woodland creatures frolicked to her, rainbows poured out of her eyes, it---Elliot face heated up and he walked halfway to the front door to leave before his conscious once again got the better of him. He couldn’t leave someone he knew. How was it a blind date if he knew the person, it---he was going to strangle Nora, regardless.

Deciding that Elsie couldn’t possibly eat as much as the troll he’d been imagining would be wearing the periwinkle ribbon in her hair (always with the ribbons), Elliot finally came out to the main floor of the restaurant and started toward her. He tried to keep his eyes ducked, but there was no way to avoid her look of surprise and alarm. Great, looked like he wasn’t the only one that remembered their rather brusque encounters in school.

“So I think Peakes has something loose in her head,” Elliot said, sticking his hands in his pockets. He stood for a moment, unsure if Elsie would want to continue with this Valentine’s Day disaster date. He pointed to the blue tie he wore, and then at her ribbon, which matched her eyes.

Did Nora hate her?

Surely this was not happening. Surely she had to have remembered Elsie's history with this boy—or man, he was a man now, she supposed—so he could not be the one wearing the correctly coloured tie. But even when she took the precaution of blinking, the blue remained when she opened her eyes again. She could recall with perfect clarity every snide comment, every grunt, every withering look Elliot Alderton had given her, and while Elsie had persevered through those Charms tutorials, she had not been sorry in the least to say good-bye to him five years earlier.

And five years was a very long time… Hadn't Elsie heard something about him being married? Yes, she was certain she had, she even remembered mention of a child, but… obviously she was missing something. Had there been a divorce? No, that wasn't it. Something tugged at her memory, until she recalled hearing along the grapevine of old schoolmates that his wife had died in the past year—of that mysterious illness, if she wasn't mistaken.

So, Elsie was sitting in front of a recently widowed father who disliked her rather intensely during their school days. On Valentine's Day. The further this evening progressed, the more she was convinced it was really one of the worst days of the year. And at this moment, she was very willing to label it as the worst.

But he wasn't sitting yet. He still hovered with his hands in his pockets, a sort of sheepish look about him. Was that his way of saying the evening was over, since they knew each other, and "blind" was sort of the point of these things? Was he waiting for her to invite him to sit down? To dismiss him? Was she going to?

No, she thought. No, she was not. Because she had actually worn a pretty new outfit she couldn't afford, she'd done something with her hair, and she had tried. If Elliot had agreed to come tonight, he should have been prepared for the worst, because that's what blind dates were, as had just been proven, and she was willing to stick it out. Perhaps it could be her making him uncomfortable for a change.

Except he was still a widower and she was not a very vindictive person, so it was possible she would regret such a decision very soon.

Elsie instead chose to not say anything at all and let him make his own decisions. So, naturally, she reached blindly for the menu by her plate and opened it so it nearly covered her face as he did so. "She met with a nundu some years back," she murmured, staring blankly at the nonsensical small print before her to avoid eye contact. "I fear she's never been the same since."

Wonderful, Elsie was so nervous she couldn't even read English anymore.

“Right.”

Elliot stood for a few more beats, waiting for Elsie to tell him to move on and get out of here. That’s what she should have done, because there was no way that he was going to be able to tolerate a whole dinner of her twittering and optimism. It didn’t matter that she did look rather nice, even prettier than he’d remembered her being. Elliot just---knew that this wasn’t going to happen. But, she had picked up a menu and began reading off the choices for the night. Elliot could remain standing like a fool, he could leave and let her fend for herself, or he could sit and endure the torture he recalled not-so-fondly from Hogwarts.

Grunting, he pulled out the chair and sat down; he’d come all this way and gotten dressed, he may as well eat.

Elliot’s lips twisted in annoyance as he picked up the menu, trying to decipher the different appetizers, first courses, main courses, desserts. They had picked the fanciest of fancy restaurants and on Valentine’s Day, so there was no doubt that the main chef was pulling out all the specialities. It was decorated as if Madam Puddifoot had taken a pepper-up potion and had her way with the place. The tremendous amount of pink and hearts did not give Elliot anything of an appetite, and his brows furrowed even further when he noticed that there weren’t any prices on the menu. That was never a good thing. He was going to be broke and annoyed beyond belief by the end of the night.

“I can’t read this thing,” he admitted with defeat. If there was one thing about Elliot’s relationship with Elsie, he’d always been brutally honest. “Just---pick what you want.”

When she was able to take her attention off the man she was pretending to ignore who had just taken the seat in front of her, Elsie saw the menu made little sense to her extraordinarily clever brain because she was holding the thing upside down.

Righting it hurriedly, she again took advantage of the sanctuary its large pages offered to hide her flaming cheeks. It wasn't until he'd sat down that she realised, having lost most of her bluster already, she actually wanted him to go and thus save them both from the inevitable awkwardness of the night. If she didn't summon up the requisite cheerful persona that was her best weapon against him, they might very well spend the whole night in a silence that ranged from timid and awkward to surly.

It wasn't a wholly unappealing idea.

But she took in his appearance and softened, seeing that he too had actually tried. Perhaps he also chose to take tonight as a chance to even dream of beginning again… or most likely he didn't, but whatever he'd expected from the night, it certainly hadn't been her. That was all right. It wouldn't be much of a hardship to attempt to be pleasant, if not upbeat. Despite his recent troubles, Elliot looked very well, and she could feel the slightest bit of an old, very ill-thought out school crush surfacing.

She was really going to kill her friend after this night.

Entirely too distracted to focus on the menu, she told the waiter, "The specials are fine!" But they were all specials today. "The chef's specials!" What did she think a special was? "Whichever you," Elsie tried, turning on her sunniest beam for him, "personally recommend will be wonderful!"

Exhaling as the barely-appeased waiter left, she thought hard for a safe topic of conversation. "You—I heard you work in the Ministry, now," she prompted with a small smile.

The specials. The chef’s specials. Whichever you thought was special! The whole bloody world was special in Elsie Branstone’s eyes. He’d put his menu down when the waiter had come by and he hadn’t bothered to look at the poor bloke while Elsie made her ridiculous order. How could she be so happy all the time? Why did she have to make looking happy so nice with that lovely smile of hers? Elliot scowled at his thoughts and snatched up a piece of bread from the center of the table, only to tear it apart but not actually eat it. If he was going to spend an arm and ten galleons he couldn’t stuff himself on the dinner rolls.

“International Magical Trading Standards Body,” he said with a nod. “It’s boring.” He was good at it, and he wanted to become the head of his department, but it was rather boring. The day was only made tolerable because of the time he was able to bother Archie at his office. Elliot needed a place where he didn’t have to think very much and where the monotony wouldn’t drive him mad; the past couple of years of his life had been a whirlwind, and he didn’t need his job to add any more stress than it already did.

After successfully demolishing the roll into crumbs on his plate, he let out a breath, “How’s Mungo’s?”

Because of course he knew and remembered that she got into the healer program their seventh year. He’d acted very unimpressed with the fact, of course, and managed to hide his jealousy at her brilliance and ability to pursue such a career.

She blanched a little at the mention of the hospital, because she hadn't expected it. Of course, Elliot wouldn't know anything about the past three years of her life, there would be no reason for him to. And that harrowing story was not something she would burden him with on a blind date that wasn't his choosing, so she dropped her gaze and worried her lip when she saw his roll very much resembling her serviette from earlier.

Ignoring the dull flush still creeping up her neck, she said, "I—left there, actually," quite nonchalantly, though she kept her eyes on her plate. "I'm at Flourish and Blotts now." She never particularly felt the sting of shame or embarrassment of the downward spiral of her career. Elsie had been good, she'd even been brilliant, in her chosen field, but going back there was an impossibility. Perhaps being a shopwitch in a bookstore wasn't the most stimulating of jobs for her busy brain, but it was enough for now. Or at least, she had always thought so until this moment. For a reason she didn't quite understand, or perhaps she did, Elliot Alderton's inevitably churlish opinion of what she did was suddenly very important to Elsie.

"Surely that must be more boring than your Magical Standards?" she offered, resting her chin on one fist.

“I doubt it,” Elliot said honestly, though it felt like she needed to know that. All he could recall from school were the excruciating charms lessons he had to sit through with Elsie, those feelings of complete annoyance were surprisingly not present. Elliot supposed that he hadn’t been very happy with anyone during his Hogwarts career and that maybe now that he was...now that he’d managed to move past a lot of things, Elsie didn’t seem so damn irritating. It was now quite easy to look at her as a smart, pretty face without all the baggage he’d had pulling him down.

There was a little chit chat and he’d pulled out a picture of Liam and she’d cooed. Eliza was brought up and Elliot growled about her fool of a boyfriend. He wasn’t particularly sure he trusted this ‘Diggle’ character, and began to re-enact how completely awkward the boy had been when he’d visited their father’s store this past winter. Elliot’s hands were up and about his head, giving a demonstration of how Diggle completely knocked over a rack of freshly fixed Comet broomsticks, when the waiter returned what was supposedly their appetizer.

Elliot’s hands remained up in the air as he looked down at the...the...”Is that fish?”

His face contorted into a strange mixture of amusement and disgust and Elliot blinked owlishly at Elsie. “Are you really going to eat that?”

Elsie hadn't known Elliot could be funny, but she'd really been in quiet stitches once the desperate awkwardness had dissipated and they'd moved into more personal territory. She'd even felt a bit put out once the waiter had interrupted and approached with the first course, which left her staring at her now-laden plate.

The first order of business would be addressing what that was. It… was fish. Or at least, it had been at one point, as its face was perfectly preserved, complete with a bugging out eye and gaping mouth. But its… artfully? slashed sides were brimming with something she really, truly hoped was sauce, and something pearly spilled out from its poor fishy underbelly. Its expression seemed so horrifically morose, she could almost imagine seeing it sigh in resignation to its culinary fate.

Though slightly nauseated, she clapped her hand to her mouth as she began to giggle almost helplessly. "I'm sorry," Elsie gasped, pressing her hand harder to her mouth in an effort to staunch the flow of laughter, lest she appear manic. "It's just—this evening hasn't been—anything like I imagined it would be." Biting her lip, but still smiling, she shook her head. "If this is the best recommended dish, I shudder to think of what sending it back would achieve." Not to mention they'd likely still be charged for them. An establishment that offered a special limited menu for holidays and couldn't bother to put ice cream on the menu seemed like the sort of place that would even charge for the dinner rolls, if they weren't escorted from the premises first.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. This was bad, this was really bad. Elliot had come to terms with how much of a grouch he’d been during school in these recent years, mostly in thanks to his sister. Eliza had managed to grow out of her shell and enjoy her time at Hogwarts and it had made Elliot reflect on how he could have turned himself around faster and may have found himself in a different place. Maybe he wouldn’t have had a one-night stand with the girl in the next cubicle, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten her pregnant and then had to marry her because her parents insisted.

Maybe he could’ve had a real chance with the pretty girl across the table if he’d put some effort into things. Thinking himself to be a much better, albeit still a bit grumpy, person, Elliot pulled the napkin off of his lap (it had magically unfolded itself and laid upon his thighs) and tossed it onto the plate in front of him. That fish was not going to be touched by either of them.

“Fortescue’s is still open for another half an hour,” he said, standing, “Mint chocolate chip, yeah?” Elliot allowed himself a smirk, feeling his ears get hot; of course he’d managed to remember her favorite ice cream, he’d scowled at how delighted she always was when she got to have it for dessert. He patted down his pockets and let out an exaggerated groan, “And I must’ve dropped my wallet out on the pavement!”

Elliot sent a helpless glance toward the waiter, who gestured for him to go retrieve it, “I suppose I’ll have to go get it...”

Had the last fifteen seconds truly happened? Had he suggested what she thought he was suggesting? Was he doing what she thought he—Elsie was certain she was staring at him in undisguised, jaw-dropping stupefaction, until she came to her senses and clamped her mouth shut. But there was a small smile on her face that grew and grew as she tried unsuccessfully to hide her fifteenth blush of the night. It wasn't simply that he'd remembered some small detail of her that she wasn't even aware he'd known (although that was a large part). The only thing she'd believed Elliot capable of was the last part, where he claimed to have conveniently "dropped" his wallet outside and would just be half a moment to collect it, but with one small edit: she wouldn't have been in on the joke, she would have been the joke.

Now, he'd just made her a partner in crime and was supplying her with her opening. Elsie couldn't say she imagined the night taking a turn for the fraudulent, but it appealed strongly to her sense of the ridiculous and appreciation for the art form of mint chocolate-chip ice cream.

"Darling!" she let out with a laugh, standing as well. "You're not even wearing your glasses, how can you expect to find it by yourself?" Elsie stepped forward to tuck her arm around his, stroking it soothingly. Looking back over her shoulder at anyone who might be listening, she said, "Sometimes I think he'd forget his head if I wasn't there to remind him it was attached," with a smile that plainly read Isn't he just adorable?.

Then they were walking, and making very good progress. Keeping up a mindless, rather cooing chatter, Elsie could see the double doors come within a handful of strides, and didn't even see the need for picking up the pace. Until she heard the authoritatively hesitant, "Madame?" ring out from behind them.

"Run!" Elsie whispered, starting to laugh as she tugged his arm rather needlessly. "Go, go!"

They were bailing on the bill. Not that they’d actually eaten anything other than a bread roll and some water, and with the crowd they were sure to be able to slip that ridiculous fish of a dish onto someone else’s table without the patron being any the wiser, but still. They’d bailed and were actually running down the pavement to put as much distance between them and the overpriced and overcrowded restaurant. Elsie’s grip on his arm did not go unnoticed and she tugged him along for a bit, but when Elliot spotted a good place to turn and hide he took hold of her hand and pulled her into the nook of an alleyway. It was really more like the small space between two building that was actually necessary to call them separate places, and Elliot pressed his back hard against the wall to give Elsie as much room as possible.

“I don’t really think we had to run,” he teased, keeping an ear out for the maitre’d that had called after them. His heart was racing, not only from the sprint but from the idea that they may, just may, have actually gotten in trouble for not paying for the bread and water. Elliot was sure he hadn’t done something that silly in a very, very long time. Play time with Liam on the carpet did not count, this was actually---taking a chance and a risk and Elliot had forgotten how extremely exciting that could be.

His hand hadn’t left hers and Elliot made to let her fingers go, but then he took a chance, “I could apparate us to Diagon,” he offered, his shoulders going up, “Do you trust me?”

The laughter or the running alone would have been bad enough, but the combination thereof had her collapsing next to Elliot against the brick, heaving her shoulders. Elsie pressed a hand to her side and found herself unable to wipe the grin from her face, though she was only occasionally racked by a giggle after a few moments had passed.

She elbowed him slightly for the teasing, but couldn't deny her exhilaration. Was what they had done childish and probably quite stupid? Of course. But she was enjoying herself so much, she didn't care. In fact, the whole night had had a very surreal feeling to it, so much so that Elsie could not say she had not imagined the entire thing. But that was all right—this was a quality many more of her evenings might benefit from.

Not once, ever, had she imagined this man was capable of this sort of… she didn't want to say "foolishness," but that's what she meant, only not in a bad way at all. Perhaps it didn't reflect well on her, but she was almost positive she'd have done anything or gone anywhere if only to see what other mysteries Elliot Alderton concealed of himself. So when he asked her his question, she was only a little surprised to learn she already had her answer. "Yes," Elsie said, turning her head to better look at him. She still had his hand within hers, and gave it the slightest squeeze. "I trust you."

His heart thudded at her words. Elliot hadn’t meant for his own to carry such meaning, but once again his feelings towards Elsie Branstone were hiding themselves behind a mask of apathy. He hadn’t truly trusted anyone in a long time and in his life he was sure that Eliza was the only person he dared to feel vulnerable with. Anyone else had managed to break his heart, so hearing that Elsie trusted him, even if it was just a trust to not splinch her on their trip to Diagon Alley, gave him the urge to reciprocate the feeling.

It was strange to think about how much he had changed since Hogwarts, and how he hadn’t realized he had until tonight. What had Nora seen in him that would have made her think he was good for Elsie? What had she seen in Elsie that was supposed to be so good for him? He tried to remember the conversation he’d had with Nora that had prompted the idea of a blind date; they’d sat in the ministry cafeteria for lunch and like idle chatter tends to do, it slipped into a negative place that Elliot wanted to avoid. A jaded comment towards the idiocy of Valentine’s Day had cause Nora to give him a look of clarified understanding.

‘You haven’t been loved in a while, have you?’ she had mused, and her words struck Elliot sharply. He knew he’d been miserable in his relationship with Millie, but the idea that he hadn’t had someone care for him in that way for a very long time gutted him in that moment. Did Nora think that Elsie would be someone who could fill that void? Elliot didn’t think his luck could manage a turnaround of that great of proportion, but he shut his eyes and hoped for the best.

“Here we go.”

She held her breath and closed her eyes until they arrived. When she opened her eyes, there was a smile of quiet contentment on her face as she took in the familiar sight. Though she saw them every day, the garish pink, white, and heart-strewn store-fronts still made Elsie laugh into night air so cold that puffy clouds issued from her lips.

Thirty minutes ago, she was ready to write off the night, and ready to write off the idea of any sort of relationship again. Three years had taught her being alone was her only option, since there was something broken or fundamentally missing within her. She smiled and laughed and daydreamed still, though all those things had taken time to do again, but there was an emptiness to Elsie. An inability to master something that came so easily to other people, and she was growing steadily resigned to that fate.

But the unexpectedness of tonight, because it had been in every single way, and the true enjoyment she had to admit to having, were beginning to change her mind. No, she thought while surveying the streamers and heart-shaped lanterns adorning the front and interior of Fortescue's, all it had taken was a little delinquency to wake her up, to show Elsie what she should have known all along.

"Come on!" she cheered, towing Elliot by the hand before shortly breaking into another run. "I know exactly what were getting, and I am not half so kind as to ask for your trust!"

She wasn't broken or lacking, not at all.

September 1st, 1976

2011-08-09T02:11:04Z

WHO: Derek Dobbs and Giada Vance
WHEN: September 1st, 1976
WHERE: Platform 9 3/4
WHAT: Derek's got a deadline to meet!

Ten-fifty. Derek still hadn't spotted her. Not for lack of trying, of course, as he paced fruitlessly up and down the platform, never pausing in his scrutiny of the mass of people swarming around them.

"VINNY," he shouted helplessly, running his hand through his hair for good measure, "GOD FUCKING DAMN IT."

His friend, currently directing (or more aptly, showing off) to impressionable First Years, could merely shrug equally helplessly. And only half-heartedly smother his snickers.

Where was she? he thought, with no small amount of annoyance and desperation. Ten fifty-one, god fucking damn it! He hoped his watch was fast.

Just when he'd given up hope, out of the corner of his eye, he saw that blonde head of hair bent close to the dark curls of her best friend and housemate.

He was going to do it. God fucking damn it, he was going to do it.

Of course, he needed her attention first, and the frantic hand-waving hadn't seemed to accomplish anything. Derek cupped his hands around his mouth. "OY!" he hollered at the top of his lungs.

The head in question still did not turn.

"Dash it all," he murmured, rolling his eyes out of sheer aggravation. Never again was he making pacts with Vinny while hopped up on Butterbeer—not ever. He started a mad dash towards the two of them, heedful but mostly uncaring of his trunk smacking into the ankles of the crowd milling about him. "Oof—sorry, I—watch out! Fuck off, mate, pay better att—" He saw the girls stop, not ten steps from the door of a compartment. Derek doubled his pace. "HIE! GIA!"

Giada had just begun to tell Rachel that she had so much to tell Rachel once they got on the Hogwarts Express (even though they’d been standing on the Platform gossiping for the past forty-five minutes...) when she’d heard her name. She had heard a bit of a ruckus, but whenever was she involved with a ruckus? Never! So she hadn’t bothered to look up! But when her name was shouted, and it was a very familiar shout at that, Giada felt her face heat up quickly and she nearly shoved Rachel away. Okay, okay, she felt like it was a shove, but it was more of a rapid fire bit of hand patting on her best friend’s shoulder to get her to do something because Derek was coming toward her.

Derek, the boy that she had been flirting with through these new-fangled magical journals all summer, the one who’d gotten her such a lovely birthday present even though she had to tell her parents that it was from Patrick who was on business in Italy and---Derek, who was always grabbing her and making her feel all kind of twisty inside her chest and----”Derek! Hi? Hi!”

She heard the conductor of the Hogwarts Express begin his final boarding announcements, and Giada shifted her hold on her trunk to her other hand, figuring that they could continue whatever conversation he was so desperate to have on the train.

Ten fifty-three. Oh bloody fuck it all to hell, she was getting on the train! The pact was null if she got on the train! He shoved Rachel aside, ignoring the outraged squawk of protest, and threw himself in front of Giada to block her from the open train door.

"MMM, nope, sorry, I can't let y—yeah, yeah, clear off!" he turned to yell at the even more outraged students and parents who were foiled from boarding this particular car by his rather large body. Derek took a deep breath and shifted his attention back to Giada.

This was not going at all according to plan. He was supposed to find her well in advance, spirit her off to a dark corner of the station, and thoroughly charm her into accepting his eloquent and evenly-breathed suggestion that they stop beating around the bush and finally go out.

Instead, Derek held up a finger while he tried to catch his breath and semi-collapsed against the side of the door, panting. A side-eye glance at his watch (ten fifty-three and thirty seconds!) snapped him to attention, and still somewhat breathless, he gave Giada his most beguiling grin.

"What in the—" Rachel began shrilly.

"—Miss Giada Vance," Derek began, before stopping as he unconsciously gave her a once-over and fumbled. "Wow, you look great." Ten fifty-four, god fucking damn it! "No, fu—shit, sorry, I—am getting on a tangent." He shook his head. "Hallo. Will you go out with me?"

Giada was sure that Rachel was going to kill her for attracting such a boorish fiend as Derek Dobbs anywhere near them, but she was too struck by him that she could not be bothered to hear a word her friend was saying. Her ears were hot, her neck was hot, her chest, her cheeks. Derek was forcing himself in front of her, and when he looked at her like that, Giada squirmed in a pleased manner and smiled, finding herself so happy that Derek was obviously keen on her. She wanted to hear him compliment her more as it felt so good, but his next statement just made her want to melt.

She’d been waiting for him to ask her out all summer. Giada knew that with all their talk and flirting (so, so obvious with the flirting), it was inevitable that they would begin dating. She was a proper young lady, after all, and wouldn't tease and let the boys chase her for long. Giada’s shoulders scrunched up in excitement, and she opened her mouth to respond when the train whistle began to blow. She looked up at a nearby clock, ten fifty-six. Her lips pressed together and she took a quick look at all the people standing around waiting for them to stop blocking the train entrance. There’d only be one time where Derek Dobbs asked you out for the first time, so it had to be perfect.

“--you’ll keep me from boarding until I give you an answer?” she had to shout, her hair beginning to blow in the breeze the Hogwarts Express was creating as it began to start its engines. Her smile was wide and bright, though, making it more than obvious what her answer would be within these last four minutes.

All right, yes, Derek was making a spectacle of himself. Truthfully, however, he was enjoying the hell out of it all. It was his seventh year, for heaven's sake! This was the time he was supposed to seize the day and wring every lively moment dry, which is why he'd even thought of making this pact with Vinny. The start of seventh year set the precedent for the rest of the term, and he was going to start his out right! And asking (or shouting at, whichever) the girl he'd fancied for the last six months to go out with him whilst perched on the train car and causing a traffic jam definitely fit under all those categories, he believed.

"That sounds about right!" he roared back cheerfully, willfully ignoring the jeering crowd and the so-insulted-that-it-has-moved-beyond-speech-and-recognizable-vocal-patterns Rachel Englewood. "So what say you, Gia?"

He really, fervently hoped that that smile was not of the oh-how-sweet-but-no variety, but was in fact the he-is-so-charming-it's-about-bloody-time kind. Because it was about bloody time, as his watch hand showed ten fifty-seven. Damnation! Not that Derek was not enjoying this rampant flirtation and public commotion, but he was on a schedule here!

Derek grabbed the rail with one hand as his upper-half out of the train car and very, very close to the smiling yet still teasing Giada Vance as he looked down at her with a cocked eyebrow. "Shall we make a go of it?"

Her trunk dropped to the ground as Giada nodded, taking hold of the two handles on the side of the door Derek was now leaning out of to step up between his legs and pull herself up and forward. He really knew how to make a scene, didn’t he? And it was all for her. Giada thought she could not be more pleased, but then realized she could be, and she looked at the clock---ten fifty-eight---right before she kissed Derek Dobbs for the first time.

Oh, it was so much better than she’d imagined it being.

Giada was all for public displays of affection, and this one was really taking the cake. There was hooting and hollering, and scolding of course---Rachel would never allow her to hear the end of it, she was sure, but what did she care? She was the one kissing Derek right now, after he proclaimed to basically the whole school that he fancied her, after all. No one else could say that now could they? It made her feel so good to think that this wonderful boy thought so highly of her, and Giada was sure this was the best kiss she’d ever had, and was really eager to add some more to this new, budding collection of lip-locks.

Derek seemed to have some sort of grip to keep himself upright, so Giada wasted no time in slinging her arms around his neck to pull him closer. Someone would get her trunk, right? Yes, Edward would definitely be frantic enough to pick it up for her, or at least, Rachel would make him before the train pulled off. She could stay clinging to Derek like this for days.

"Ugh, Edward, come—" "What are they doing?" "OY! MOVE OUT THE WAY!"

It was all an indistinct aural blur to him, because he was currently kissing only the prettiest girl in the entire seventh year (really, the whole school—why quibble).

Suddenly, Derek felt something tugging at his hair and realized with a start the train was slowly pulling away from the station. Still pressing his lips insistently to hers (oh, by the way, she had definitely laid one on him first!), he let out a whoop of laughter and swung the two of them inside. Reluctantly breaking away, he pulled her firmly inside the train and was decidedly too dazed to think or care about whether or not they'd grabbed everything from the station platform. His grin was wide and cocky as he fingered a loose strand of her very blonde hair and tucked it ever so gently behind her ear.

"You know, I never did get an answer," he said very softly, an arm snaking around her waist to bring her quite inappropriately close to him. The hand tangled in her hair slid slowly along her jaw line until he could cup under her chin and guide her lips to his until they nearly grazed. "… but hell if that was anything but a yes." Not even giving her a chance to correct him, it was his turn to lay a good, solid one on her.

Derek looked at his watch from the corner of his eye. Eleven oh-one. Welcome to the best bloody school year ever.

The Gryffindor Common Room!

2011-08-06T11:43:36Z

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Sebastian came tearing down the stairs of the Gryffindor Common Room, ducking and dodging as the firecrackers shot past his ears. Almost burning them off, no doubt! The exploded and popped just as he managing to jump onto a couch and duck for cover. There was hollering from all around the room, some students upset because they were trying to study, or have a conversation, or snog, but that only lasted a few seconds as the display of red and gold cheered everyone greatly. It was never a bad time for some House pride, yeah?

He squirmed on the couch, flipping over to stretch across and push his feet into the arm of it. Sebastian's hands went behind his head to give himself more of a pillow, and he watched the fireworks crackle and finally die down. He'd need to go back to Zonko's to refill his batch, and wondered when the next Hogsmeade weekend was, it felt like ages since they'd been allowed out of the castle, but it really must have been only a month.

The boy flipped again, stretching the upper half of his body off the couch to try and read the bulletin board for the Hogsmeade schedule. Sebastian put a hand to the ground to keep him steady, face twisting as he tried to force his vision to be better.

"Oy, when's Hogsmeade?"

ooc: Fluid time thread, open to Gryffindors (and their various guests) of all years!

The Ravenclaw Common Room!

2011-08-06T11:36:10Z

Phoebe rocked back and forth on her heels, finding herself quite nervous.

"It's really late and I've been studying very hard for my exams, so if I could get a hint, please?" She knew it was to no avail, and for the third time the Eagle knocker on the door of the Ravenclaw Common Room slowly let out the night's riddle,

I'm the part of the bird that's not in the sky. I can swim in the ocean and yet remain dry. What am I?

She let out a puff of air and dropped down flat on her feet. Okay, okay Pheebs, think! It couldn't be an impossible answer, because she heard voices beyond the door, so someone must have answered it already. Knowing that the riddle had already been solved made Phoebe flush slightly; she should be able to do this, dang it, she was a prefect! Okay, okay. Let's talk this out.

"Part of the bird? I suppose the first question to your question is that how could it be a literal part of the bird if it's not up in the sky with it? It can't be, there for it's not a literal part, but what, is it its mind? Or more like the soul?" Phoebe waited a beat but when the door did not open she continued to question the question, "It's not a physical object, that's for sure---you can't swim in the ocean without getting wet, unless, again, you're not an actual....if it's not in the sky, it's on the ground, is it always with the bird?"

Her mind shot to the image of the Ravenclaw eagle soaring through the sky, and her thoughts helped her travel down to the ground; what would she see? Phoebe's eyes lit up and she puffed her chest slightly, "A shadow?"

The door clicked open and Phoebe let out a properly pleased sound as she skipped into the common room.

ooc: Fluid time thread, open to Ravenclaws (and their various guests) of all years!

The Slytherin Common Room!

2011-08-06T11:25:40Z

The green light cascading through the windows of the Slytherin Common Room made Katerina sleepy. She wondered who had thought it would be a good idea to build dorms under a lake, let alone give it windows where the sun would only be able to reach its occupants by piercing through the water. It was beautiful, though, she couldn't deny that. And different, and unique, and she supposed not many people got to see the creatures of the Great Lake swim by. And it was secluded, away from the rest of the annoying common rooms, who had no class when it came to decor and---

Okay, she'd convinced herself. The Slytherin Common Room was indeed the most brilliantly laid out one.

Her eyes pulled away from the window and Katerina gave a long glance across the somewhat busy common room. Though, you'd never call a group of Slytherins busy; they all did things on their own time, at their own pace, in their own manner. Plotting Slytherins might work better, but contrary to popular belief, not everyone in her House was concocting a plan to take over the world.

Even though they'd manage to do it quite fast and effectively, she might add.

ooc: Fluid time thread, open to Slytherins (and their various guests) of all years!

The Hufflepuff Common Room!

2011-08-06T11:19:07Z

Tim was doing his very best to be sneaky. He felt like tiptoeing around, but if anyone saw him do it he might get embarrassed and made fun of for the rest of his life. In his arms were a bundle of snacks and treats from the kitchens (what upstanding Hufflepuff didn't have a house-elf food source to help them through those tough exam weeks?), and a few bottles of butterbeer were hanging between his fingers, lighting clanging. Oh boy. He only had one more flight of stairs to go before he was Scot-free and when he finally reached the painting, Tim let out a sigh of relief. Home.

Or, at least, his home for ten months out of the year. Well---okay, this was home

The still-life painting seemed to tease Tim for a moment, not opening to him and he had to shake his thoughts away from his mini, five minute adventure to remember how to access the dorms. "Oh. I'm Timothy Greengrass, 6th year Hufflepuff. I have snacks."

He waited for the painting to determine if his statement was true, and as he indeed was a sixth year Hufflepuff, it shifted to the side and allowed him through. The Common Room was brightly lit, even at a somewhat late hour, and student lounged on the cozy, over-sized arm chairs. Most of them waved a hello to Tim, and he grinned, making a beeline to an empty couch.

ooc: Fluid time thread, open to Hufflepuffs (and their various guests) of all years!

It's not easy to erase your blood.

2011-03-30T05:37:33Z

Who: Andromeda Black and the rest of the Black Family
When: First day of summer, 1971.
What: ...
Where: Home.

The last school year had been utter and absolute bliss. Without Bellatrix, she hadn't needed to be so careful with Ted, she hadn't needed to pussyfoot around and make sure that all of their conversations ended in her screaming something at him. It had been nice. They hadn't been snogging in public or anything vulgar like that -- there were limits to what even the other Slytherin girls (who fully admitted to 'experimenting with muggles', whatever that meant) would tolerate in the public eye.

She was sure that nobody would tattle, at least. Narcissa was barely old enough to understand what they might even be doing, that was -- there was no real risk. She'd spent the first few months of the school year completely paranoid that Bellatrix had somehow bugged her trunk, but as time went on she relaxed more and more. Coming home on the train had been ... difficult, but at least this year Ted had the understanding that she couldn't owl him, and even though it would be a painful few months, she wouldn't have to worry about him thinking she'd moved on or dumped him or something equally as cruel.

The floo home was as quiet as it usually was, but when she arrived and no house-elves even made eye contact with her ... Andromeda knew something was amiss. She furrowed her brows, brushing off her robes and hefting her trunk up with a levitation spell so that she could walk toward her room. As the smell of something rancid and sour filled her nostrils, she sped up her steps. As she turned the corner to her room, blue-silver tendrils of smoke curled out from under the door.

"What--" She let out a gasp as a stunning spell grazed off her shoulder, mouth open in shock. Bellatrix, looking much less ... together than she had the year before, loomed over her as she leaned back against the wall.

Oh, this was wonderful.

"Did you really think," Bellatrix sneered, "That you could hide your disgusting little infatuation for this long?" She spit at her sister's feet. "You should know by now that muggle stench doesn't come off. I am only glad that dear Cissy had the good sense to address her concerns to her elders." Andromeda felt her heart drop into her stomach.

No, it wasn't supposed to be like this... she was supposed to be the one in control of this happening...

"Shut up," Andromeda snapped, pushing herself to her feet and drawing her wand (oh, she was going to be in such trouble for this) against her sister, "Just because nobody wants to shove anything up that dusty snatch of yours doesn't mean you have to be so jealous, Bellatrix." The hallway was starting to fill with smoke, and finally the house elves seemed to take notice.

They stood there with their wands pointed at each other for a long time, neither of them taking eyes off each other. The way Bellatrix glared at her as if she had the plague was ... it hurt, even if she'd known this was coming. It was their mother, looking quite irate (moreso than usual, even), who unceremoniously snatched up both the girls by their wrists.

"Enough, Bellatrix," she growled low in her throat, releasing her daughter's wrist and keeping hold of Andromeda's, so that she might put out the fire Bellatrix had started in the younger girl's room, "you mustn't burn the house down over this, dear." She gave Andromeda's wrist a painful squeeze and pushed her back into the scorched room, turning up her nose and not deeming her fit for even a look.

She stumbled back into the room, all burnt ash and blackness. Most of her belongings were ruined and the smell of the room was almost unbearable. She coughed hard, slamming the door shut behind herself after managing to drag the trunk inside. Through the smog, she managed to open the nearest window and tossed her trunk out of it, disturbingly pleased with the loud smash it made as it landed atop one of the lawn ornaments.

It was somewhat fitting, she thought, that most of her things were a pile of dust - just like her place on the family tapestry. Andromeda clambered down the side of the building as she had done so many times, knees and hand smeared with soot and eyes filled with tears.

It was one thing to hate your family, but to have them really hate you to the point where you might as well have been dead? That stung.

valesco_history @ 2011-03-27T19:12:00

2011-03-28T00:49:02Z

Who: Andromeda Black and Ted Tonks
When: September 1970
What: Ding, dong ...
Where: Train to Hogwarts!

When you were trying very hard to be the picture-perfect daughter as far as your mother was concerned in a house that consisted of people who wanted to maim the one person in the world who made you feel like you were even the least bit alive ... things were difficult. Summer at home had been hell, even with the distraction of being able to roam around the estate as far away from Bellatrix as possible.

She was sure that her sister suspected she was involved with Ted. Bellatrix had kept such a close eye on her for the summer that she hadn't even been able to send him letters, and Andromeda had a crippling fear in the pit of her stomach that Ted would think she'd given up on him and gone off to snog some other bird. He'd probably completely moved on by now.

Andromeda, normally confident and as cheerful as a Black could be expected to be, was nervous. She'd avoided getting onto the train until literally the moment before it started to pull away, and now as she stepped into the hallway she couldn't help but start to peer as casually as she could down the cabin. She scanned the visible areas for Ted to no avail ... which meant that he was probably in one of the private cabins.

Bah, this was going to take forever if she was trying to be subtle about it...

Hogsmeade Weekend!

2011-03-15T03:56:51Z

"I'm keeping an eye on you!" Professor McGonagall shouted at a group of mischievious looking Gryffindors. Always her Gryffindors. What the woman would do for one group of well-behaved young men. Was that so hard to ask for?

Minerva really hated Hogsmeade weekend. Instead of being excited for their studies, getting an education and becoming proper young wizards and witches, all these students wanted to do was snog at Madam Puddifoot's or buy some tricks at Zonko's. And she, just like every year, had to play chaperon. With a great big sigh, Minerva dropped down into a sit beside Filius, and across from Pomona. Those two always managed to have a splendid time on the weekends, and eying the poorly conceived bottle of firewhisky under Filius' cloak, Minerva now understood why.

"I do hope you intend on sharing some of that with your Gryffindor counterpart, Filius," she said snootily, waving her glass toward the Charms professor.

OOC: OKAY, this is meant to just be a general post---any time/year could take place in the comments, the common theme is just HOGSMEADE WEEKEND. So...the person who starts the thread would put MONTH, YEAR. Weekends are like...third weekend of each month? So have fun :)

woah backdated

2011-02-26T02:22:50Z

WHO: Gideon Prewett and Gleny CHITTOCK.
WHAT: gideon and gleny do quidditch like. 7th year. summer of 1977?
WHERE: around...gideon's house.
NOTE: LOL i've had this in my email for yrrrrrrrz.

Gideon checked his bag again, "Omnioculars, yup. Banner, yep. Snacks and drinks, check," he looked up at Gleny and smiled, "You ready to go?" he asked. This was kind of exciting, and a good way to get his mind off of the letters that wouldn't be coming for another week that made him nervous for reasons he didn't really understand. He didn't think anyone but Smeth and Lupin were in the running, and Lupin had gotten into trouble at the end of the semester, so it was probably sure that he was out of the running for Head Boy then.

When Gleny had noticed his perpetually worsening mood and suggested they go do something, Gideon's father had offered up a pair of tickets to an England match that he'd been sitting on, 'for just the right moment'. Gideon rolled his eyes at the memory. Really his father needn't have teased him so much about it. So what if they weren't the best seats? They were free weren't they? "Did you bring a camera? Charlie's gonna want pictures, you know," he said, looking back down at his bag and closing it up before slinging it over his shoulder and settling it right.

"Errr…" Gleny started, staring at Gideon blankly. Camera? Her hands stayed up high in her hair (she had been tossing up) while she thought about it. Well, yes she brought a Muggle camera. Charlie would like that, wouldn't he? Personally, Glenda always liked Muggle pictures better than Wizard ones. She shifted her wait to the opposite hip and glanced down to the bag at her feet. "It's at the bottom," she said, still staring at it.

"It's a Muggle camera though." Gleny put her hands on her hips. Well, wouldn't that type of camera be better for a Quidditch Game anyway? Probably…not, but she could just act like that little bit of information didn't matter. "Who's playing again?" she asked, stepping over her bang to Gideon, wrapping her arms around his waist and going on her tip toes to get a quick snog.

"That's fine, as long as they're pictures. Dad gave me some more pocket money to get them each a treat," he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, "make sure you don't break it though. Because, well that would be bad. I don't know if a reparo would fix it," he said looking thoughtful before kissing her again. He really did like having a girlfriend; it was no wonder Fabian was all about having one.

"England versus Argentina," Gideon said patiently. He figured that Gleny might not be all that into it, not knowing anyone playing, but it would be fun anyway. They'd get to see a bunch of new people, and maybe Gideon could pick up a few new plays. He had that book Molly had given him at Easter, just in case.

"Mmmmhhmmm," she responded through his lips, getting the gist of what he was saying. Treat-little nephews-pictures- don't break the camera- might not be able to fix. Right. That wasn't hard to remember. Just take pictures and make sure the camera comes home in one piece- which was what she wanted anyway, seeing that this one was her mother's from work.

Gleny pulled back a bit to give a thoughtful look. "Ohh, right right. It's supposed to be a very good game, you said. I remember you saying that," she said, nodding just a bit. Why she actually had to say that out loud…well, that was still a loss. Either way, she went up on her tip toes again to get another kiss before they actually had to go out in public with screaming fans. Lovely, really.

Gideon smiled and wrapped his hand around her waist, "Ready? I'll Apparate us to the portkey drop-off point, okay? We don't have a portkey, but that's where the wards are opened for people to go Apparate in." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before Disapparating with Gleny in his arms.

They appeared in a small clearing where they could see the stadium a short distance away. Gideon pulled Gleny quickly out of the clearing onto a path out of the way of other traveling fans, "Isn't this exciting?" he asked with a bright smile, lacing their fingers together as they reached the ticket taker, "This'll be brilliant." He handed over the tickets, squeezing her hand gently before leading her away in the direction of their seats.

They were walking so fast that Glenda thought she just might fall over on her face. Well, obviously she wouldn't, but it felt like it. Which was strange, since usually she walked fast anyway in the corridors in school. Maybe it just felt strange because Gideon was pulling on her to walk fast and she wasn't controlling her legs. Either way, she would be happy to find their seats quickly enough.

"Stairs!" she squeaked as they entered through one of the little portals and started the ascent. They better not be seated up too high- she didn't do sweating. Though, Gideon didn't seem to mind at all- set on his face was a big old smile. Well if he was this excited about it, then the least she could do was just…walk up the stairs. "Are we up high?"

"Er, mid-way? They're not the best, 'cause we'll have to look up a fair bit for play, but it's only like two or three levels," Gideon said, looking down at her distractedly, "But we're right on the edge, so we won't have anyone tall sitting in front of us to block pictures." Gideon continued up the steps, reminding himself to take them one at a time as to not go too fast for Gleny, even though he wanted to run up the steps. This was actually going to be really cool! He'd never brought …anyone to a professional match with him before. Usually it was him and Fabian and their father going whenever they could get tickets. Listening on the WWN had nothing on being at a game live. "I promised your mum that I'd have you back before it was late, so if the game isn't over by then we'll just go."

She eyed the handle bar as Gideon talked, contemplating exactly how many people might have touched it already and whether it had been cleaned lately or not. Deciding that the answer was most likely a lot and no, she focused back on him to here something about her mum. Unconsciously (well, maybe consciously a little bit), Glenda's right eyebrow rose. Gideon had promised her mum that they wouldn't be out late? She couldn't even remember ever seeing him talking to her mum…but then again, she had taken a while in coming down from her room when he had come to pick her up so…

"Don't worry about what you said to my mum, we can stay until the end," Gleny mused, smiling just a bit as they turned a corner on the stairs. Either way it ended early or late, she had been looking forward to some…coupley things that they would do afterwards.

"Well, sometimes these matches go for days, or well, the possibility of them going on for a long time is there," Gideon said in a patient manner, "but most professional seekers will try and end the game as soon as possible. There was a match between Bulgaria and Portugal - oh, here we are," he said, leading them out of the stairwell and into a portal to seats, "and the Portugal seeker," he continued, "caught the snitch within the first five minutes! No goals scored either. Sometimes it just shows up in the right place you know? Dead boring for fans though," Gideon said with a snort of laughter. He looked down at his ticket and wandered over to where their balcony was, "Here we go," he said, motioning for Gleny to go first.

Gleny opened her mouth to say that yes, she knew they usually lasted long (just because she had no clue what was going on with the house games didn't mean she didn't notice how long they were sometimes) but didn't say anything as they left the stairs. Gideon was probably just…very over excited about this game. Most likely, anyway.

"Thank you," she said to him, smiling a bit wide and squeezing past him to enter the box first. Luckily for her, she had seen the seat numbers on their tickets when she walked by him, so more than happily Gleny bounded over to one of them and sat down. There were a few other people on the balcony already; an old-looking couple and what looked like a family of four. Well, at least they weren't the first ones here. And definitely not the first ones in the stadium either- even from here it looked like it was chalk-full of people dancing, waving and singing. Quite intimidating, actually.

Gideon settled himself into the seat next to Gleny's and stretched out his legs as much as he could (which wasn't that much, since they were at the edge of the box) and grinned. "Brilliant, isn't it? Who are you going to root for?" he said with a wicked smirk, pulling out his England banners and handing one over to her. "I shall claim to not know you if you dare say Argentina," he said jokingly, leaning back and sliding his arm along the back of her seat. This was an excellent idea. Gideon would have to tell Fabian all about it, even though it would be more exciting to play in a game. "If it's not too late when the game ends, can we stop by The Burrow? It's not that far actually, about forty kilometers south of here. Isn't this place great?" he asked, looking up and watching some of the advertisements float above them.

She would be stupid to not cheer for England, wouldn't she? Just looking around the box, Gleny could nearly everyone carrying (or wearing) white and red. So, why not? She lived there too, anyway. Smiling, she took the banner from Gideon's hands and gave it a small wave. Besides, who did she know that lived in Argentina anyway? Exactly.

"Sure, I'd love to. Yes, it is," Gleny answered, taking both ends of the banner and pulling it tight to look at it. She just might have to steal this from Gideon- she hardly had any of his things to begin with, so at least a flag was a good start. "Very chaotic- it's nice."

Gideon smiled at her widely before settling back in his chair and wrapping his arm around her shoulder, "I can't wait until Fabian is playing like this. Do you think we'll get free tickets? I'd think so, being his family, but you never know. It would be fun though, very exciting. Oh look, here come the reserves," he said, pointing to the players filling up the benches on either side, "That means the players will come out soon," he said bouncing slightly. There wasn't any particular reason to be telling Gleny everything that was happening, it was just fun.

"Oohh, that's right, Fabian's a professional now. I nearly forgot about that," Gleny said out loud, although she hardly doubted Gideon had heard her; the noise level in the stadium had just risen from extremely loud to ear splitting. But that was only because people were flying out of the little opening at the other end of the field. Ohhh right, that was the team.

"That's them!" she said for no particular reason. Getting bouncy, she inched up to the edge of her seat to get a better look at the field and the screen a bit off to their right. She might not have any clue about how to play the game, but at least she knew what professionally built Quidditch Players looked like.

"You nearly forgot that my brother is playing Quidditch for the Canons?" Gideon asked, a touch incredulous, but more amused than anything. He couldn't really hear anything else she was saying so he just cheered with the rest of the crowd. His hand slipped from her shoulders as she moved forward, so he just let it rest in the middle of her back, waving his banner with his other hand. This was gonna be great!

A couple of hours later, Gleny herself getting pushed and shoved out of their seats and back down the path they had gone up earlier. England had won! 200-150. And a very exciting game, she had to admit. Though, it was a bit strange that Gideon hadn't been watching most of it, but rather watched for about two minutes, and then scribbled away on some parchment he had brought for a long time. Gleny had tried to get a glimpse at what he was doing, but either she couldn't see it or someone behind her would knock his elbow into her head every time she bent over.

"That was a good game!" She grinned to Gideon, waiting until they exited the last portal to walk beside him and lace their fingers together. "Right?"

"Very exciting!" Gideon said with a little spring in his step, "I can't believe some of the moves they used! Half of the time the omnioculars couldn't pick them up! Wow, I can't wait to use some of these plays!" he said, waving his playbook around before stowing it in his bag, "Did you have a fun time? I'm glad it didn't go on forever, 'cause that would have just been terrible to miss the ending. Did you get everything you wanted too? I got Bill a poster, Charlie an action figure, Percy a soft quaffle and the twins squeaky beater bats. My parents spoil them," he said with an indulgent grin, "And I got some England shaped sweets, but I'll give those to Molly and she can doll them out, yeah?"

Gleny heaved a laugh, shaking her head just a bit. Gideon had never talked this fast before- or at least, she had never heard him talk this fast. Whether it was because of the game or her slow influence, she would never know. But right now was definitely because of the match. "Yes, yes, I had lots of fun. I think everyone will like their presents you got them."

"Ace," he said, squeezing her hand and leading her over to the clearing they'd arrived in, "You ready to go to the Burrow then?" he looked at his watch and frowned, "I dunno if the boys'll be up, but I'm sure Molly or Arthur will. Molly's pregnant again, did I tell you?" he asked, moving to stand in the queue of people leaving. It seemed like they were checking people to see if they were okay to apparate. Gideon fished out his license and handed it to the hit wizard who was checking them.

"She is!" Gleny squeaked, stopping right in her tracks. She didn't know Gideon's older sister that well, only hearsay from Gideon. But still! Even for someone she had hardly met, it was always exciting to know that someone was going to have babies. "You did not tell me that!" she said to him excitedly, bouncing on her heels just a bit. "Oh, that's so exciting you have- oh sorry." Quickly, Glenda reached into her purse to produce her Apparation license for the extremely irritated-looking hit-wizard. And had he been tapping his foot at her? Oh no he was not. Giving a 'humph' as he handed back to her, she followed Gideon to walk away.

Gideon laughed at the wizard once they were far enough away from him, "Yeah, with twins. Boys too. That makes five," he said with a roll of his eyes, "You remember where to go? Just the front lawn," Gideon said, kissing her cheek and stepping away to disapparate. He waited for her to appear before moving forward to knock on the door quietly.

Bill was the only one of the boys up, and he went to the window beside the door to check to see who it was (Mummy always said not to open the door without looking first, then to ask for permission). "Mummy! It's Uncle Gideon and Gleny," he said excitedly, waving at the pair from the window.

From the kitchen, Molly poked her head out, "Okay, let them in!" She finished drying up the rest of the dishes and wiped her hands on her apron as she hurried over, grinning at the two teens. Bill stared up at Gleny with wide, curious eyes.

Gleny smiled widely as Bill circled around her legs, staring with those big round eyes he had. "Hullo Billy," she said to him sweetly and then kept on moving to follow Gideon into the kitchen (only after petting the top of Bill's head lightly).

"Hullo Molly!"

Gideon smiled at Gleny and stooped to pick up Bill and swing him around before setting him in a chair at the kitchen table, "What are you doing up, rugrat?" he asked, pulling out a chair for Gleny before sitting down next to Bill, pulling his bag onto the table, "Aren't you supposed to be getting some sleep?"

Gideon turned his smile on Molly, stretching his legs out under the table, "We went to the international Quidditch match, dad got us tickets. It was brilliant," he spoke excitedly, his hand finding Gleny's under the table unconsciously.

Christmas, 1977

2010-08-04T03:20:21Z

WHO: Bianca Vaisey and Thomas Vaisey (NPC)
WHAT: Why Bianca became a hitwizard
WHERE: Her house
WHEN: 12/25/1977

Bianca flounced out of her bedroom and into the living room, striking a pose as her new dress robes floated around her.

"What do you think?" she said, eying her brother carefully. Thomas Vaisey lifted his head from his book and Bianca delighted in the look of surprise on his face.

"You're not allowed to wear that!" he let out, and she laughed.

"It is not provocative, Tom," she said, spinning toward the mirror. The robes were beautiful, she would be the absolute star of the Christmas party and would take great joy in rubbing in the price of the robes to the other girls who would surely be doing the same.

"No," her brother started, standing, "but I don't wish to have boys mesmerized by my little sister at a party with no adult supervision!" Bianca laughed, knowing that Thomas was only half-serious with his concerns. She batted her eyes in a funny way, and pushed her brother in the arm.

"I can defend myself," she said, recalling the few date-defense tricks she and Mirabelle had discovered. Bianca pulled out her wand, pointing it lazily at her brother, "You could use some retail therapy, brother, you look as if you haven't slept in days."

She watched Thomas' face fall at her words, and Bianca worried that she'd offended him in some manner as he turned away. As much as it was true, Thomas looked ill and not nearly as happy as Bianca had always known him to be, Bianca did feel guilty that she'd upset him. Tom was the only person she was ever completely honest with, and if she'd hurt him in some way that would never settle in her stomach.

"Sorry," she said, dropping her hands to her side, "You're probably just working a lot--"

"It's not---" her brother started. Bianca's ears perked as she realized he wanted to explain. She was always a good listener, and had been the keeper of many of Thomas' secrets. Like the fact that his wife was about a month pregnant! They were waiting just a bit longer before telling the rest of the family, but Thomas had hurriedly come to spill the news to her the moment they'd found out---Bianca knew that she did not have to announce that she would keep whatever he had to say now a secret, her brother would know.

"What's the matter?" she said, "Is Luisa all right?"

"No, she's---fine, she's perfect, the baby's---fine," Thomas said, unable to settle in one spot and jumping out of his seat to the window. Bianca's eyebrows furrowed in confusion; her brother was never jumpy. "Bianca, remember---when I told you about those men, who came into my shop--"

She let out a breath, "They haven't come back, have they?" Bianca knew that her family was an old pureblood name, but they were no where near the ranks of the Blacks or the Lestranges, they'd always kept very neutral with their war stance, so when Thomas came to her with a black eye and a bloody lip because of some cloaked men who wished to use his book store as a hideout---"Thomas, you need to call the authorities!"

"I can't!" he said, "They'll hurt Luisa and the baby if I do, they'll hurt you, Bianca and I can't---" She watched her brother slump into the chair he had just left, and Bianca crossed the room, "They won't stop, I've been getting owls and packages and---"

"And---what do they want? Close the store if you have to!" Bianca let out, feeling the nerves in her stomach build and build. What could his shop have that the men--the death eaters wanted so bad? How could Thomas not have told her that the problem had become so severe? "Just close it, say---you went out of business!"

"They want me, Bianca!"

She stiffened, feeling like she had received a bludger to the gut. They wanted Thomas? They wanted---what, for---"They want you to join?"

He nodded, his face still miserably sitting in his hands. Bianca blinked furiously, a rush of great panic coming over her. No, no, no, her brother was a good man, he would not join the Dark Lord's army because he did not hate muggles and muggleborns, he did not hate anything, he was good---he was the best brother anyone could ever wish for---

"And you've told them no?" she asked weakly.

Again, her brother nodded, and Bianca felt relieved but for only a second. She realized that if things had been as simple as declining the invitation to become a death eater, her brother would not look as ill and sickly as he did right then. "And they won't take no for an answer?"

She sucked in a breath when he nodded again, and Bianca dropped to the arm of the chair. "What are you going to do?" What was there to do? Run away? Hope that they didn't attack his family in retribution? Bianca put her hand to her brother's back to try and comfort him, but a sharp, hard knock at their front door jolted her to her feet.

"Don't answer it!" Thomas let out quickly, pulling Bianca back. Bianca stared up at him, eyes wide as she saw the anger and fear in her brother's eyes. No, it couldn't be them, they wouldn't---The knocking persisted and Bianca was sure that they were going to throw the door off the hinges.

"What are we going to do!" she yelped as Thomas began to pull her across the room. He threw open the closet door and shoved her inside---no, no---no, "Thomas!"

He put his finger to his lips to silence her, "Just be quiet, Bianca, please, if anything happened to you---"

"Don't--!"

The sound of the front door being slammed off its frame and into the house, knocking over vases and mirrors, crashing to the ground forced the two siblings to jump away from each other. Bianca covered her mouth to stop her scream, tears pouring from her eyes as Thomas shut the closet door in her face. Her breathing became heavy and she fell into the wall of the closet, trying to hear everything that was going on outside of it, hoping that Thomas would just disapparate and leave. They would not find her here, she would be safe. Bianca's eyes dropped to the floor of the closet, watching the shadows move and the jets of color bouncing around. She heard the shouts, she heard the spells, but she did not hear----she saw----

---the green flash of light poured out from under the door of the closet. Bianca let out a scream as a second later the sound of a body hitting the ground filled her ears and she burst out of the closet.

The shriek she let out at the sight of her brother's fallen form, of his eyes staring up at the ceiling but not really staring at all----Bianca screamed again and with blurry vision and hitching chest she hurled toward the cloaked figure all the spells she could recall. Anything to hurt the man that had killed her brother, anything that would make him suffer---

Bianca felt a sharp pain in her shoulder and the second she wasted to bend over in pain was enough for the death eater to round on her. He grabbed her hair roughly, pulling her straight up and nearly pressing his mask to her face. She could see the blue of his eyes and was certain that he was going to kill her then.

"Your brother was a coward," he spat before thrusting her to the ground. Bianca stared up tearfully as the death eater pulled his cloak around and swept out of the house. The trail of destruction he had brought in his whirlwind entrance stopped at her brother's still feet, and Bianca crawled toward Thomas with the last ounce of energy she could muster before collapsing on top of her brother's cold body.

SURPRISE HISTORY PARTY THREAD!

2010-01-23T07:31:36Z

How had he let Derek convince him that this was a good idea?

Vinny stared aimlessly across the literal sea of people and crowds covering the vast land of his backyard. Sure, sure, he had a ton of land because he lived on a farm, but that didn't mean throwing an End of School Year bash was a brilliant idea! Just because his parents were going to be out of town for the next week, did not mean he should take advantage of it! Oh, hell, at least they weren't getting in the house (where he'd all but locked Davy inside of).

It was a pretty good party so far, though. There was a barbecue, girls in bikinis, torch lights lining the pool area, a volleyball net, girls in bikinis, lots of loud music, girls in bikinis...

"HEY there is no need to be littering!" Vinny said with a loud huff, using his wand to send the paper cup shooting back into the perpertrator's face. Merlin, oh Merlin. Derek better stay over tonight to help him clean up, tomorrow. There was no way he'd be able to clean this mess up all by himself. As much fun as he was planning to have, he still needed to be somewhat in control of this bash!

"Who the hell invited the sixth years!" he shouted, eying a couple of students who were definitely not part of the Hogwarts class of 1977.

For fuck's sake, if he was named Head Boy this year it was going to be hell.

[OOC:] :) Random 2:30 in the morning idea! My last weekend as a free woman!! This thread is open to 77ers and 78ers (or at least, those cool enough to hear about the party and crash it ;D) This means ALL characters alive at that point can post and have fun! Try to keep with whatever canon we've decided in-game, of course XD

and to clear it up: it's like the first weekend after school ends, June of 1976. 77ers just finished their sixth year, 78ers just finished their fifth (ooh OWLs!) This thread is set BEFORE the start of Valesco wtf XDD

1976 Christmas Party!

2009-07-14T00:12:36Z

Entertaining came naturally to Rachel Englewood. If you knew her, in fact, she'd sultrily tell you that many things came naturally to Rachel Englewood, including being the center of attention, being able to produce a good time for anyone out of any circumstances, and throwing the best, most elegant parties. Perhaps it was the French flair inherited from her mother, or her simple determination to be the best, brightest, and most affluent, but parties were her forte, and that needed no explanation. The seventeen-year-old balked at the prospect of her last year in school passing by without so much as hosting a lavish high tea! Successful events were not borne out of nothing, however, and the sly brunette mulled over the various occasions which might warrant celebrating. Debutante balls had come and gone early in the summer, and regardless of how successful hers was, it was a new season, and therefore a blank slate. Winter proper was fast approaching and with it, the perfect holiday; after all, what better occasion to go all out for, than Christmas? Thus, their graduating year was, fortunately, not void of any contributions to the social calendar by Miss Englewood, who was fully confident that the Christmas of 1976 would be remembered by all.

Having gone through great lengths to ensure her parents would be unreachable for the duration of the party, such as packing them off to Canada in the form of an early Christmas present they had to take advantage of before her father's work detained him (naturally, she had taken special care to double-check dates with his secretary, to avoid potential conflict), the lack of supervision allowed the girl to plan what she wanted in peace. She need only have contended with the House-Elf, whom she had sworn to secrecy, and the other help, which had been given paid leave for the duration.

By five-thirty in the evening, everything had been set. Food aplenty was scattered amongst elegantly draped tables, and though the girl looked down on alcohol as a harbinger of bad attitude, it was found amongst the drinks. The drawing room was dimly lit by the roaring fire, which cast its orange glow against all the walls. A large, decorated tree towered near to the high ceiling in one corner, the fire glinting off the glass trinkets hanging from the limbs. Classic Christmas cheer was rampant in every corner, and there was little Rachel found disagreeable as the soft strains of the WWN's holiday program lilted across the expansive room. The hostess herself was decked in elegant black dress robes, the short length of which was a pervasive style that she could not come to an opinion on, but tried, nevertheless. As was written clearly on the invitations, formal dress was the only acceptable attire and it was for the benefit of everyone that they heed the warning. By six-thirty, guests began arriving, and the soirée crept towards its crescendo.

Wrapping a curl around her finger, the one physical vice her mother had never quite beaten out of her, she took a moment to stand back and survey the goings-on of the class of 1977, goblet of pumpkin juice in her unoccupied hand. A slow smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

OOC: Open to ALL graduates of 1977, and a few select students from 1978 who would logically be close to many of the 1977 attendees. Time's a bit wonky in the thread (as it is with all group threads? IDK?), so feel free to be in two+ places at once! AND TAG, PEOPLE! WE HAVE KIDS BACK FROM THE DEAD, HOW GREAT IS THIS? So I want to see lots and lots of interaction >[ OR ELSE.

ICKLE PHINEAS

2009-05-13T01:37:01Z

Who: Ickle McLaggen boys (well... teenage but whatevs)
Where: McLaggen Abode
When: Summer before Tibs 7th year and Finns 3rd.
What: LAWLS?

Today was the day, Tiberius was sure of it. Looking back over the past seven years, owls from school have always come on one of two days and being as one of the days was yesterday, today had to be the day. That morning he had taken the stairs two at a time skipping the last four altogether earning him a quick scolding from the Colonel. He muttered a quick apology before making his way to the kitchen, where the owls always came. He lasted all but ten minutes be fore he was shooed out by his mum for being to jittery and not being able to stay still. She had sent him on a errand to get her some ingredient (that she probably didn't even need) for something she was making (or so she said.) Could you really blame him though? Of course he was excited. Today was the day he was getting the letter that was going to tell him that he was Headboy!

And how did he know that he was Headboy? Because it was obvious that he was the best choice. He had been working toward this ever since he heard that there was such a position. He'd taken extra shifts as prefect and tutored and had straight O's in every subject. Well any subject that mattered, flying didn't count. When he got back from the store he dropped the bags on the counter looking for the think parchment envelopes with the distinctive green ink. "Mum! Did the post come?" he hollered walking towards the den.

valesco_history @ 2009-02-28T10:20:00

2009-02-28T16:26:11Z

Who: Cassiopeia and her mother
Where: a small office in a church somewhere in Scotland
When: October 11, 1979
What: Family spat about marriage...what's new?

Cassiopeia Damaris Jewkes-Smith-Viridian-Wagstaff-Despard-Watkins-Rabnott soon-to-be Zabini was not exactly pleased to be wearing white this evening. Could you really blame her? She had no need to re-marry and had no real intention of doing so, especially after six elderly husbands (God bless their souls) who expected her to dote upon them while they were still on this earth--especially after acquiring a rather large fortune to her name and a small fleet of house elves and manors. The manors were easily dismissed and sold to up-and-coming witches and wizards, the house elves easy to move to her new home after each resulting passing. But this marriage was different. Aries Zabini was not what you would call a kind gentleman. True, he was raised to be a proper gentleman like any pureblooded wizard was expected to be. But Aries was not Cassi's cup of tea. You'd think she'd want a partner more--spry and flexible after all these years...

She couldn't be too upset with her reflection, however. God, her complexion was perfect! And the way that the white dress created specially for her by Psyke looked on her was stunning. She knew that Aries loathed her and the idea of a marriage to her, but if this dress didn't wipe that away instantly, she wasn't sure anything could. Maybe things could work out for them...Cassi wasn't sure. It just felt like life had finally caught up with her, all her past decisions were weighing down on her. This arrangement--it wasn't going to end well. And Cassi was almost certain of that. One of them was going to give into temptation and murder the other (or at least try), and she had a feeling that for once it would not be her. And that was what had Cassi so visibly nervous about things.

"Oh, come on, Cas," she heard the gentle murmur of her mother from behind her. "You've done this before, it's not such a big bloody deal. Just marry the boy and get it over."

Cassi sighed, gently touching the heavy diamond pendant on her neck. "I know. It just feels so--permanent."

She could see her mother roll her eyes behind her. "That's how marriage is supposed to work, Cassiopeia. It's supposed to be permanent. And if you were a good daughter, you would have settled when you married the first time." Cassi pursed her lips and stared coldly into the mirror. She hated this lecture from her mother--she'd heard it too many times.

"Well, let us hope that the ceremony does not last too long. I'd rather be on my way to Hawaii than standing in that damn chapel--"

"--Don't you dare use that language in a church, young lady. You're lucky they even agreed to allow the wedding here, given the type of ruffians with whom you associate."

Her mother was, of course, alluding to a few of her friends she knew through modeling. They weren't that bad. And they had certainly been better company to her than any of her husbands had been.

"No, mother, I think you should feel lucky they allowed to plan this whole ordeal in a little over a month. How much did you have to pay them off to knock some poor couple who actually wants matrimony to another weekend?" Cassi spat back, now whirling around to face her mother. "You know very well that I don't want to be here, so don't read me the right act on how to act and criticize me for those with whom I decide to associate. You know full and well that I'm a grown woman and you have no right to tell me what to do with my life, mother."

"Cassiopeia Damaris Jewkes, you will do as you have been told. You know your place in society and you know what is expected of you by both myself and your father. And until you decide that you can be an adult and accept the fact that you will be in a relationship and actually make things work, we will both treat you as the child that you are," her mother's firm voice hissed at her.

Blah, blah, blah, familial obligations. How often had Cassi heard that lecture from her parents? "You didn't care what I did when I was with Pollux or Yorick or Magnus, why should I even be bothered that you give a shit now that--" The sound of her mother's hand coming into contact with her cheek echoed in the empty room, shocking Cassi into silence.

"You will not talk to me in that matter, Cassiopeia. You have been a constant headache and embarrassment to me and your father for the past ten years. And I will not have you acting in such a way anymore. You will marry Areolin Zabini and you will be the proper young witch that we raised and you will stop all this nonsense. And that is final." Her mother glared at her through their reflections in the mirror. "I would suggest that you put a calming spell on your cheek to take the red out. You would not want the embarrassment of a handprint on your face on the happiest day of your life." Cassi didn't look at her reflection, rather taking a moment to look through the window in the small office. The scene outside was quiet, calm. Cassi could hear the sharp click of her mother's heels on the tile floor as she made her way to the door. "You are to be downstairs in five minutes Cassiopeia."

This was it; she was getting married, and there was nothing she could do to stop it, to slow things down. Bloody hell.

valesco_history @ 2009-01-31T00:29:00

2009-01-31T05:33:49Z

Who: Andre Jordan and Adelaide Lee
What: He's got a surprise patient waiting for her!
Where: St. Mungo's, where else?
When: Summer, 1971

Today was just another day at work. Nothing special. Not at all. Ok so the interns were 'graduating' and becoming first year residents. Which technically made them less off limits, not that Andre payed any attention to that anyways. Either way, he wasn't dating an intern any more. Not that Adelaide was a normal annoying, know-nothing intern, in fact she was the complete opposite. She was pretty much the most amazing woman on the face of the earth. The spells she had mastered in the first month, it was almost unfathomable.

Andre sighed as he continued filling out his charts. That was the only down side to today, he lost his interns and hadn't gotten new ones yet, therefore, he had to complete his own charts.

He glanced around, no new residents about yet. "Just another normal day at work." he mutter to himself as he shoved his hands into his pockets and was quickly reminded that it was not a normal day.

"How bad are you going to miss me?"

Adelaide sidled up next to Andre, propping her elbow up on the counter as her eyes smugly down at his pile of paperwork. Ha. Soon, she was going to be the one bossing around stupid interns and giving orders---oy, that was going to be such a good time, she'd hardly even notice all the extra work she'd have to deal with. Because, honestly. She had been ready for this kind of work since her fifth year, when she'd told McGonagall that she was going to run St. Mungo's by her third year.

Well, okay. Maybe it would take a bit more than that, but.

Her chin raised, her smug expression spreading down to her lips as they pursed at Andre. At first she'd absolutely forbidden any kind of public affection at work, but---what the hell.

Andre jumped slightly when Adelaide slid next to him. Miss her, where the hell was she going? This was going to fuck everything up. She better not be going elsewhere to do her residency. Mungo's was the best there was. And then it hit him. She meant miss her as an intern. Ahh that made sense.

Andre let out a sigh of relief, and looked down at her. "Not a bit." he said with a smug look of his own. "And technically," he placed his finger on her pursed lips, "I'm still your superior. Tough luck on that one dear."

He ignored the look she gave him. He had it all planned out. He had to hold this act up or she would catch on. She had to be surprised. Normal day at work. Normal day. He repeated the mantra over and over again as he fiddled with the velvet box in his pocket. "So I have a really interesting case later on today, guy was turned inside out, want in?"

If it was physically possible, her eyes would've popped out and rolled across the counter. She swatted Andre in the shoulder (a bit hard, but that was the only way she could swat) and motioned for him to move. "What are you waiting for! Go-go-before Cunningham tries to stick his nose in."

She grinned, looking up and down the corridor of the hospital for any eavesdroppers. If her fellow newly-resident residents were actually smart, they would totally be spying on her and Andre. Adelaide knew she would be.

"Okay okay, I'm going." Andre said with a chuckle as he led her to the room. If the other newly-resident residents (along with everyone else) they would stay far away from room 374. For he had earlier spread the rumor that it contained a man with a highly contagious highly lethal disease. He stopped in front of the door and turned to face Adelaide.

He discreetly nursed his swatted arm solely because he believe that there was more soon to come. "Now behind this door, is something you may only see once in your lifetime, let alone work on the case. So before I let you inside you have to answer a few questions."

Adelaide smirked greatly, hands going to her hips in an impatient stance that Andre was surely used to. Really. Really? He was going to give her a test before showing her the inside out guy? That was just like him, and definitely part of the reason she loved him, but--it was still utterly frustrating for the short-tempered woman.

Lifting a hand in a 'what else can I do?' manner, Adelaide let out a great breath, "All right, fine--shoot."

Andre rubbed his hands together nervously. "Okay then. First of all, try not to stare too much. I know you can't not stare but at least try. Okay your questions are: One, what is the biggest issue with having a man inside out. Two, Why will it be difficult to turn him right side out. And Thirdly, Will you marry me?" Andre didn't pause between any of the questions. Totally smooth. He slipped the ring box in her pocket for her to open. See this is how it was done, there was no need to get on his knee, who knew what was on the floors anyways.

Did he really think he was being slick? "One, you have to keep all of his organs from getting infected and torn, two--getting everything back into place without causing more injury would be highly and insanely difficult, you'd need a whole team and three---three---"

Adelaide's mind stopped, slamming into the third question as if thrown into a brick wall. She turned over the words in her head, each specific word out of the four spoken, and all she could do was blink as her mouth hung limp and completely useless because--she had no words.

'Will you marry me?' That was his question?

She barely felt him slip the ring box into her pocket, continuing to stare up at Andre as if he was the one turned inside-out. Adelaide felt all the blood leave her head, only to come rushing back up in a furious and frantic blush. She---he had---Her hands jumped up to her pocket, feeling the box shaped object and her fingers immediately scrambled to pull it out and open it. Letting out the most uncharacteristically girlish sound she could ever (and would ever emit), Adelaide's eyes shot back up to Andre, completely stunned.

"I---I---you--you need to be kneeling." Oh, he was not going to get out of this that easily.

Andre smirked as she went through answering the questions, only to falter at the last one. Watching her fumble with the ring box must of been the best thing he had ever seen. She was so cute as she stuttered out that he needed to be on his knee. As tempted as he was to mock her stuttering, now was not the time. He did want her to say yes after all. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek as he slipped the ring out of the box.

He knelt down on his one need and gently took her left hand into his. "Adelaide Wei Lee, will you do me the honor of becoming my bride?" Andre asked as he slid the ring onto her finger.

"Holy shit--" Adelaide let out at his words. He wanted her to be his--his bride, which was another word for wife and Andre wanted her to---this was all too surreal. Adelaide, as deep of an infatuation for Andre that she did have (love, LOVE, she loved him), had always feared that he was going to find a woman that was prettier, nicer, smarter---well, no, he would never find a smarter woman, but Adelaide did have a lot of things wrong with her and---and he wanted her.

Holy shit.

"Yeah! I mean--yes! I do? I--yes," she said with a firm nod, her smile completely lighting up her face. Merlin, the ring on her finger sent shock waves throughout her entire body.

Andre grinned and picked her up and spun around. "Holy shit" he grinned "We're getting married." He kissed her soundly on the lips, she was his fiance and that was totally allowed. "But first we have to take care of inside out man." Yes, there is a man turned inside out. No, Andre did not make it up, it just happen to fit perfectly into his plans. Best engagement gift ever.

valesco_history @ 2008-12-17T21:15:00

2008-12-18T02:20:11Z

WHO: Andre and ickle Adelaide
When: Adelaide's first day as an intern!
What: snarkyness!

Today was the day. The day half the attendees loved, half of them hated. New intern day. Personally Andre didn't care either way, mostly it just meant more slave... ahem... people to do his more mundane boring work while he worked on more interesting things. He was discretely looking over his chart watching the newbies filter in. So far he didn't see anything spectacular. Well there were a few that looked promising. Today would be a fun day.

Adelaide cracked her knuckles as she brought up the rear of the interns. She felt no need to rush ahead and look like an eager brown-noser, ready to run and get the residents coffee or whatever they drank here at Mungo's. For all she knew, they sucked on lemons to keep their motors running--Adelaide really hadn't done much research on the hospital. All she knew was that there had been an abundance of healer interns this year (her being the only female), and one by frickin one, they were going to be weeded out and she was going to be left triumphant as the best.

Really. Priyaranjan Patil? He so wasn't going to make it past a week.

She'd have been fine with standing in the back and just nodding along at the pauses, but Adelaide couldn't see, because the interns this year decided to be exceptionally tall and she was a normal height. So she pushed and squeezed past Cunningham and made it to the front of the group, blowing a big chunk of hair out of her face.

Andre had the honor of telling the interns the general rules and such, then who the tormenter would be for the following year, well if they made it that long. He peered over the brim of his glasses as a shorter girl pushed her way to the front. She made good use of her elbows, he almost felt sorry for those in her way.

"Everyone here? Good, because I don't put up with stragglers. I'm Healer Jordan and you're not following me around this year. I don't deal with interns, they tend to be highly annoying. Anyways, general rules, listen to your residents, on call rooms are off limits, do what your told. Learn. And most importantly don't kill anyone." He finally put down the chart he was looking at the entire time and picked up the intern folder, flipping through the pages. Couldn't any of them have normal, pronounceable names?

"Find your name then go around asking everyone who your resident is until you find them." Andre tossed the papers on the counter. This ought to be very amusing. He highly doubted that he'd be allowed to do the intern welcome again.

She wasn't sure if the boys were scared of her, or if they were just pansies and let the girl go first (probably a bit of both), but Adelaide reached the counter first and pushed the papers around to find her sheet. She snatched it up, finally, and pushed through the rush to stand off to the side. What--what the hell was this nonsense?

"Wait!" She spotted the healer that had so haphazardly left their documents, and she grabbed his sleeve. Oy---he was tall. Adelaide craned her neck back to get a good look at this man, Healer Jordan. Who did he think he was? He was definitely not in charge, and he was only like--why, he couldn't be more than two years older than her! That wasn't intimidating at all! "Why does it say I'm in the maternity ward indefinitely!"

Andre's eyebrows shot up as he felt someone grab his sleeve. He looked down finding the small asian girl latched on his arm. "Well first of all," he said pulling her hand of his arm. "I don't make the assignments. I also don't care. Secondly, you could be in peds dealing with whiny kids and bitching parents. And thirdly, you're a chick, you should be happy. Maternity ward is full of sunshine and rainbows."

Andre couldn't figure this one out. Last year the girl was over excited that she got assigned to the maternity ward. This one looked out right pissed off. "It's not a permanent assignment anyways. That's just what your resident prefers. You'll get to try everything else too."

"Excuse me?" Adelaide sputtered greatly, mouth contorted into a great expression of shock and disbelief. She heard snickering behind her and quickly sent a fist into Priyaranjan Patil's gut. After hearing a satisfying grunt, Adelaide turned her attention back on the resident who was being a complete asshole. "I'm not a chick, thank you, I am a legal witch---not that it seems like you would know what one looks like, but."

Adelaide really did know better than to talk back to her superiors, but no way. No way! She was not going to be called a chick and told that she had to go into pediatrics or the maternity ward because she was a woman. No way---she wanted to get her hands into some juicy cases like--like---LIKE. Well! She couldn't think of anything at the moment because she was beyond furious.

Andre took a step back when she turned around threw her fist into the intern who was laughing. So she was one you didn't want to mess with. And that just made it all more entertaining to Andre. "But what? How about we take a deep breath and take it down a level or three. Chick, witch, its not that different and I'm not trying to be insulting, you just happen to take it that way. Now if you are done bitching, I'll have you know, Healer Donovan is one of the best spell damage healers we have at Mungo's. Second only to me, she just happens to prefer the maternity ward, so you'll see plenty of interesting cases."

He looked over her head to the rest of the interns watching the exchange. "Any other complaints about assignments? Didn't think so. I have work to do now, have fun finding your residents."

"You---you are most definitely being---"

Adelaide couldn't get a word out, she was so surprised by this man's tone. Healer Jordan's tone. No, no she was going to call him---Healer Jerkface that's who he was. Just because she was an intern didn't mean he could talk to her like he was some--no one was allowed to talk to anyone like that and he needed to--STOP BEING A JERK.

She puffed her cheeks greatly and contemplated throwing something at him. She should, she really should---but that would get her kicked out of the program. Screw this program! Screw it, if it made her into a big jerkface like him then she didn't want to be a bloody healer, no sir, not one little bit.

"Is it a requirement for a resident, to be completely rude and insulting? Because even though you're not trying, you are--being insulting." Okay, so she couldn't help that.

"Oh did I hurt your feelings? I'm so sorry. But this is a hospital, and believe it or not people are dying. I don't have time to walk around on eggshells and protect the feelings of all the interns running around here. In fact if you make it, and are still around here to have interns you will quickly learn that in order for them to make it through the program and become a decent healer you have to be rude and insulting, protecting your feelings and being happy-go-lucky all the time isn't going to benefit your education." Andre didn't even know why he was trying to explain it to this girl.

"This is not an easy program. If you're going to get pissy because you're feelings got hurt I suggest you leave now."

Well. When you put it that way. Adelaide continued to glare up at Healer Jerkface, even though it finally clicked, how hard this internship was going to be. It wasn't like she hadn't know, but in all fairness--she was pretty smart, and tough, and---could handle basically anything, but. You still needed to be aware of your surroundings.

Well--all right, then. She could deal with this guy, it wasn't like he was going to be her boss or anything; just another resident she'd have to listen to to get by. That would be fine, that'd be great even, because then she could show him that she was the best and he would be like oh, should've been nice to her, and---

"Fine," she snipped, ending her mental ramble with with a slight huff and a turn. He didn't need to know that she actually might've taken his advice to heart. Totally didn't deserve to know any of that.

May, 1966

2008-11-16T22:53:30Z

Who: Avis Tremaine and Tomas Booth
What: Sad news :[[
Where: Hogwarts, Owlery

Sure, it was relatively early in the morning for Avis to be up -- but she was always up early when it came to mail days. Her mother liked to send her copies of Scientific magazines that had interesting articles in them, so it was something she looked forward to. That was what had brought her up the stairs to the Owlery so late. She took the last step up and paused -- someone else was already up there. That was ... unusual.

Instead of going inside right away, she opted to hover around the door. If it was an angry Slytherin she didn't want to walk in on them. All the better to just go back downstairs and have breakfast instead.

Last night, Tomas had received a letter informing him that he had been accepted into the auror program. For some reason, the owls had been sent to McGongall, and she had taken her sweet time in informing the newest recruits. So late, that it had been past curfew and he hadn't been able to go to the owlery and send off the letter informing them that he'd made it. The whole summer before school, winter break, Easter holidays, it's all he could go on and on and on about, and he stayed up rather late writing a letter that nearly duplicated all the information the packet he received had contained.

So, really--his excitement was what had woken him up at the crack of dawn this morning, and he'd made it up to the owlery in record time. He really hadn't expected to find his owl already sitting on its perch, a letter wrapped around its leg. Tomas knew that Woodstock didn't like going into the Great Hall because he was so small, but honestly there was no reason to try and make him come up here and---

---he was quick to realize why his owl had opted to give him the letter in the privacy of the owlery.

Tomas was sitting underneath the perch Woodstock had found himself on, his auror letter strewn to the floor as he read his mother's scratchy scribble across tear stained parchment. A robbery? His dad didn't do those kind of---he was always in the offices, there was no--no way. He took in a strong breath through his nose and kept his head down, not hearing the shifting footsteps in the doorway.

Tomas? Wait, something was wrong with this picture. She was here to send her letter out and to see if her magazines were here (carrying them to the Great Hall, Avogadro had quickly learned, was a ridiculous waste of energy). But Tomas was ... upset, that much was obvious. Honestly, Avis wasn't sure how she was supposed to react to something like that. She pushed her glasses up her nose and took a deep breath in.

Okay, she could do ... gently questioning. Obviously he would need to talk to someone, why not her? Besides the fact that he probably hated her guts and would rather talk to one of their Professors. Although she kept it to herself as much as humanly possible, Avis admired Tomas' ability to integrate with groups and be popular and nice to people who ... you know, weren't her.

She cleared her throat as she stepped through the door, flicking her gaze to the window so that Tomas wouldn't be threatened by eye contact.

"...hi." Smooth, Avis.

Tomas startled and knocked into the perch, sending Woodstock fluttering up in a bit of a frenzy (how he hadn't noticed his owl had stayed, he couldn't tell you, but--). He quickly scrambled up to his feet and wiped furiously at his eyes (turned away from Tremaine, dear God) letting out some frustrated sounding breaths.

Really? Really, God? You decided that Tremaine was going to be the first person he saw after this? Looking and acting like--this? Funny! Hilarious, just peachy and---

"What are you doing up so early?" he snapped, but his tone was definitely not as fierce as it could've been, has been, and it nearly sounded like a frog croaking and--Tomas bent to gather his things, ready to rush out of there before she caught his red eyes and made some smart ass comment or---or something.

Despite popular belief, she wasn't a horrible person on the inside -- just on the outside when she had to be or felt she was threatened. Avis furrowed her brows at the way he was behaving -- erratically enough that she didn't snap something smart back when he asked what she was doing up here. She also didn't answer that she was mailing her letter.

"Early morning studying. 's quiet up here, you know? And nobody else ever comes up." Putting him at ease that nobody else was going to walk in if Tomas was worried about that. She shifted so that she was half in front of the door, biting her lip when she looked to Tomas.

"So ... you?" Because God knew she wasn't going to ask him why he was up here alone, crying. "I mean, uh. I could use help with ... I'm supposed to give a speech and I'm rubbish at talking like a normal person." The first part was a lie, but the last part ... wasn't.

He stopped his shuffling and took a second to let her words sink in. A speech? What class did she have to give a bloody speech in? Tomas was pretty sure he and Avis were in mostly all the same classes, and when did Hogwarts actually care about--Tomas shook his head again and stood, letting out a long and rattling breath and running his hand nervously through his hair.

"Look, I just--" Jesus Christ on a cracker he could not cry in front of her, she would make fun of him for the rest of his life, because Lord bloody knew that she was going to be a thorn in his side for the rest of eternity and---Tomas rolled his eyes to the ceiling of the owlery and bit down on his tongue. He couldn't even let out a rude retort because he could just tell that any word was going to make the tears fall and he couldn't he fucking couldn't and--

Tomas put a hand up, hand clenching as he tried to control his emotions, but he found that whatever he'd managed to subdue came boiling back up the second he actually looked at Avis. His head dropped forward and he let out a short gasp as more tears fell, and Tomas wiped furiously at his tears.

It was only natural that he wouldn't want to cry around her, since that would undermine his masculine identity and whatever else. Avis shifted from foot to foot for a moment, hesitating before she shifted forward and slowly to touch his arm. She wasn't confident enough in herself to do more than that, though.

Since the whole 'making up an excuse to let you stay in the owlery' thing hadn't worked with Tomas, maybe this would. She could just ... be quiet (yes, her mouth actually did shut) and supportive. Wasn't that supposed to be a good thing, like non-verbal support or something?

...did you really think that was going to last very long? Avis paused. "I could put up a ward." Which was a ridiculous thing to say, but -- "I mean. So nobody else came up. If you wanted." And she could leave ... or stay. That was mostly his choice.

His breath hitched quickly, and Tomas wasn't sure how he was able to breathe. It hurt so fucking much, it was as if--something had crawled inside of him and was squeezing his lungs so tight and it was just dumb. He was supposed to be an auror come this summer, or a trainee whatever, and he was crying? He was crying? Aurors don't cry. Aurors brush it off and get up and go an have a beer afterward and--

"My dad died," he let out lowly, pulling into himself. Avis was going to think he was such a girl, crying like a baby, but---but--Tomas began to focus on his breaths and thought that maybe, if he could tell her and get it out then maybe the pain would stop, but it wasn't feeling that way at all, "They needed back up and--he was just---there and--I don't know, I don't know what happened I just--he's not--"

Tomas pushed his face into his hands, angry at himself for not being able to control himself. "Just--just--" he didn't know what the hell he wanted her to do.

"You're going to hyperventilate," she blurted out awkwardly, mentally kicking herself the moment that the words came out. Right, she knew that was the wrong thing to say but she had a problem controlling what her father called her 'brutal honesty switch' and ... okay, at least he seemed to be reacting okay to the touching. Avis shifted hesitantly to draw him down to sit again.

She'd keep her mouth shut and they could just ... sit. When she got upset about silly things like the boys at school or work or blowing up her favorite beaker at home, this was what her father did. So that obviously meant it should work on anyone because he was a genius.

"I'm ... sorry. About your dad, I mean." Not about all the other horrible stuff she'd said to him in the past -- that had been justified.

He wanted to fight her pull, he didn't need to sit because he wasn't going to fall apart like this and---oh, hell, if Greer saw him like this then he'd never let him live it down! Tomas' mind was shouting at his wobbly legs, telling him to man up and walk down to McGonagall's office to tell her what happened, but all his body could do was follow Avis to the floor.

Tomas' hands dropped from his face and into his lap, and he stared pitifully across the owlery, sniffling greatly and taking in deep breaths. His thoughts couldn't escape the letter and the true capacity of grief it held, and his head ducked again as a fresh wave of tears came.

"He---my best friend, he was---" Tomas didn't know why he felt the need to say this, or to tell her this, but maybe it was an attempt to give himself more reasons to not feel guilty about crying. His father wasn't only the man who raised him, but his best friend, his idol---people would understand that, right?

For a few significant moments, Avis was sure that he was going to do something cruel like shove her to the floor of the owlery and stomp off in the other direction. He didn't, though -- he sat down next to her and stared across the room. That was ... good, right? Better at least than him going to bottle up his emotions or something.

Not that she didn't do the same thing on a daily basis, but still. That was besides the point. She bit her lip (ow, okay, a little too hard) and nodded to Tomas' words, trying to be reassuring. One of her hands slid up to rest on his back gently. "That's definitely a really good reason. I mean ... yeah."

Seriously? Seriously? Avis hadn't thought her people skills were that bad up until this exact moment. She could see why he was upset, she could feel sympathetic about it ... but she sucked at showing as much.

In all of his sadness, in all of the pain he was feeling right at this moment, Tomas couldn't stop the short chuckle at Avis' awkwardness. At the moment it was endearing, and not terribly annoying like it usually was. She was trying to help him, even after he'd been a total jerk to her for...the past seven years. So maybe he shouldn't find amusement in her attempts at consoling, because---well, fuck, she could have just left him there.

He let out a breath and sighed, looking at Avis with red, sullen eyes. "Do you think you could clear the corridors so---I could make it to McGonagall's office?" Without running into people so they wouldn't see him cry, as stupid as the concern was.

To be fair, they'd been mutually ridiculous to each other for the better part of seven years, and even if Tomas had been the one to start it ... she hadn't exactly offered the olive branch of peace out to him. They were both too stubborn to do something so outright logical. She nodded, though, opting to ignore the fact that he was laughing at her. It was an adequate distraction from what he was probably feeling, anyway.

"Yeah," she nodded, biting back the urge to say something ridiculous like 'but you owe me' or whatever. He had to know that he'd owe her for this even if neither of them ever brought such a thing up verbally -- or she hoped he was intelligent enough to know that (he was and she knew it, otherwise she was sure she wouldn't have been as irrationally attracted to him as she was).

She stood, offering him her hand so he could do the same after several long moments of consideration.

Tomas remained on the ground for a moment before letting out a breath and taking her hand. It wasn't as if he couldn't get up, but she had offered and it would've been rude and---yeah, he was just going to be nice because she had been nice, and---his mind was so rattled that everything going on was just bouncing around and going off in ridiculous tangents.

He could not believe how different this day had ending up being.

This was supposed to be the best day of his life, announcing to the world that he'd made the auror program, and now, here he was, his father was gone, he couldn't man up and control his emotions, and Tremaine was the one helping him. World was bloody upside down.

Finally he was standing, and he wiped at his eyes once more, keeping his hand in front of his face as he muttered, "Thanks."

"Don't worry about it." Because Merlin knew it was going to be less awkward for both of them in the long run if he just forgot about it and went back to mercilessly teasing him. That was what his peer group would expect, after all, and a substantial shift in their relationship while he was at such a fragile point in his life (with being accepted into the Auror program and his father dying and all) would be ill-advised.

Avis squared her jaw a little and glanced out the door of the owlery once before she turned to Tomas briefly, not bothering to hide the fact that okay, she was still concerned.

"Don't do anything stupid," she muttered, mostly to herself, before she pushed out into the hall. Predictably, there was a rather large group of students (mostly Gryffindors) milling around.

Great. Glad that she'd brought a rather large stack of books with her (as usual), she promptly bowled into one of the larger Gryffindors.

"Oof! Sorry, mate. You should really lay off the steroids, I hear they can lower your intelligence -- and I'm sure you can't stand to lose anymore brain cells as it is." Definitely enough to provoke the rest of his social group into harassing her so that Tomas could get past.

Oh, he so owed her for this.

November 10th, 1977

2008-11-11T23:14:23Z

Who: Caitlin Jugson and Ioan Llewellyn
What: Soda pancakes D:
Where: Their kitchen

It occured to Caitlin Jugson, as she stared at the back of her fiancée's head, that she didn't know how to make pancakes.

What kind of women didn't know how to make pancakes? What kind of fiancée didn't know how to make pancakes? Oh, oh God! What kind of wife didn't know how to make a bloody batch of pancakes! Was it even called a batch? Maybe a...a...oh, fuck. Was there another word for a lot of food? Did food have certain terms to certain things? Ohgoshthis.

Not good. Really, really not good.

She scrambled out of bed (attempting not to wake Ioan up, but she was feeling a bit scatterbrained so she probably did) and grabbed her sleeping robes. Flinging them on, Caitlin hurried out of their bedroom and down the hall and into the kitchen, immediately going for the cabinets. Did she have pancake stuff? What did---how did? Wait. Her mum always put in like, powder stuff. Powder stuff and...what. What the hell was in a pancake?

After a few more minutes of making a lot of noise and opening all the cabinets in her small kitchen, Caitlin hoped she had everything needed to make pancakes. Then, she thought of something.

"Oh my God," she muttered, looking at all her ingredients and the bowls and the spoons and the pans. "How the fuck do I make it round?"

"That's got something to do with the way you pour it into the pan, I think."

Smirking at his fiancée, Ioan Llewellyn stood in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning on the doorframe and looking infinitely casual in a pair of boxers and no shirt. He laughed quietly, observing Caitlin for a moment, then pushed himself away from the frame and padded over to her, slipping his arms easily around her waist. Ioan rested his chin in her neck and looked around at all the mess she had put out on the counter with mild amusement, his eyebrows raising at the complete lack of pancake material she had actually taken out.

"... cream cheese and milk? My, these are going to be some interesting pancakes." He kissed her cheek, grinning against it.

Caitlin let out a string of those very nervous 'oh please don't ask any more questions' giggles at his comment and flushed a deep, dark red. She knew she shouldn't have taken out the cream cheese, but it was---how did you make the batter all thick and stuff? She wasn't really going to put it in the batter well so.

Bloody freakin hell, she was a trained Healer, and she couldn't make pancakes. Someone should take her license away, honest.

"Ohhhhh, that's for the bagels for later," she responded, voice a bit high pitched as she lied through her teeth. Caitlin had the spoon in her hand and she waved it around a bit. "How--how does your mum make them, how do you like it?"

Maybe he'd give her some hints, because it was looking quite bad at the moment.

"You've got to be crazy to think anyone in my family has ever cooked a single meal for themselves," Ioan said with a chuckle, thinking of the one time his sister, Ophelia, had tried to make a cake for his birthday. Having only been eight or so at the time, she had ended up yelling and throwing a tantrum about how horrible it was to be getting icky and dirty and sticky; the house elves had taken over before she even had time to crack a single egg. "And quite honestly, I don't even like the way the house elves make them that much."

He frowned and let her go, placing his hands on the counter and biting the inside of his cheek in thought. Hmm... this really was all rather complicated-looking. He wasn't planning on getting into it.

"I'm sure that whatever way you decide to make it will be wonderful," he concluded, shooting her a charming smile.

Oh, perfect.

Caitlin spun quickly to watch his retreating back and basically glare because she was quite sure that he knew, ohhhhh he knew that she didn't know what on Earth she was doing. Whyyyy hadn't she just stayed in bed and then when he woke up they would cuddle again and then lead to other things and then they'd both have to run out and whoops, no breakfast. No breakfast, no cooking, it suited her fine.

Hmph.

"Fine, it shall be wonderful," she said mostly to herself. Remembering that Deidra had given her a cooking book (duh, how the hell hadn't she remembered?), Caitlin summoned it over and found a supposedly easy recipe for pancakes. Brilliant! She could follow instructions, she got an O on her Potions N.E.W.T. "Soda? Is that--that's fizzy...why on earth...ah, well."

Honestly, Ioan hadn't known that Caitlin even knew how to cook. He pondered over how he had missed this little trait of hers in all the time they had been dating as he traveled back up the stairs and into their bedroom. Ah well, he knew now... and he could always act like he knew, if it was a big deal for her.

See? He always had a plan of action when it came to her. He was going to be such an awesome husband.

Venturing into the bathroom, he decided that he probably had about enough time to get ready before the pancakes were done downstairs.

So apparently, her fiancée thought she could cook. Bother. When had she ever given him that impression? Weren't they always eating out? Had she even washed a dish since they'd moved into the house? Bother, bother, botherbother.

Well, at least the recipe was easy enough. Haha, how could she not have done this before? Caitlin began to hum a tune as she mixed all the specified ingredients (drinking from the fizzy drink in her free hand), amazingly proud of herself that she new where the measuring cups were (at least her mother had enough sense to provide her with such things). Now...making them...she bit her lip as she tentaively poured some batter on the skillet.

"Oh!" she squeaked happily, jumping up a little bit at the sight of the perfect circle the batter had miraculously created all on its own. "Ahahahahaha, yessss."

After a few minutes the entire batter was gone and a pile of perfect looking pancakes sat on a plate. Huh, nottttt, bad. How had she ever doubted herself? Well, by the looks of her counter, she still had a long way to go.

"Honeyyyy," Caitlin called up the stairwell, using a very silly house-wifey voice, "Breakfaaaassttt!

Perfect timing, Ioan thought, just straightening his tie in the mirror as he heard Caitlin's voice, and he grinned to himself. This was going to turn out to be a pretty good morning, he decided--his future wife knew how to cook and was making him breakfast, after all. What could go wrong with that?

She could cook. He shook his head and laughed at his reflection in the mirror. Wow, just when he thought his fiancée couldn't get any more perfect. "Coming, darling!" he called back, starting out of their room and down the stairs back into the kitchen.

It smelled very good, he thought, as the scent reached him. Looked great too, sitting there on the table all nice and golden and steaming with all the dressings around the large plate. "Have I ever told you how amazing you are?" he asked, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Yes, but you're absolutely allowed to tell me again," Caitlin responded with a cheeky grin, feeling so amazingly good that he was so happy with it. And he hadn't even tried them! Hehe, aw, he was so good like that.

"Here here, go get started, I'm just going to put some stuff away." She pushed him toward chair and gave him a kiss on the shoulder, picking up a pancake for herself before turning back to the sink.

Man, did she make a mess. Caitlin stuck the pancake into her mouth as she tried to figure out where to begin and...ew. Oh, oh, ew. She stopped mid-chew and winced greatly. Not. Good. Ew. Ew. Ewewewewewewewew! Caitlin spun around to tell Ioan not to eat them, and groaned when she saw it was just a bit too late.

Too late was right. By the time Caitlin turned around to warn him about her mess-up on the pancakes, he already had a bite in his mouth, chewing and--oh...blech.

It took all of Ioan's self control to not cough and spit it out, and to keep the smile on his face. With much, much effort, he gulped it down and tried not to taste it too much.. oh, but oh, the taste was still in his mouth and--quick, orange juice, yes, there--He downed nearly half the glass very quickly, trying to look nonchalant and failing.

Okay, so maybe he hadn't been mistaken about his bride-to-be. He now realized that Caitlin, under no circumstances, could cook. At all. What--what had she even done to make them taste like that... He felt a horrible sinking feeling as he looked down at his full plate. How in the world was he going to down the rest of those? He would have to, because if he didn't then Caitlin might be pissed at him, but--oh, his stomach would hate him later..

She almost wanted to laugh at his expression (the poor dear, he was ready to get sick), but Caitlin was a bit too busy feeling like an idiot and ready to cry. Oh, how had she messed them up? It had been such an easy recipe, too, and they looked perfect and--

How were they going to survive if she couldn't cook?! Oh, oh God, their children would starve and then they'd hate her and she'd be the worst mother ever and how could she have been the Head Girl of her bloody year and not know how to cook?

Why wasn't there a 'how to live in the real world' class at Hogwarts?!

"Ohhhh, I'm sorry," she moaned, rushing over and taking his plate, eyes brimming with tears, "I don't know what I did, I followed the recipe but maybe I put too much of something in and--and maybe I'll try--no, no I'll just get cereal or something and---" Caitlin sniffled, pouting greatly. "They're so pretty."

Now that was something he hadn't been expecting at all. It seemed as if Caitlin had caught his momentary look of disgust he was certain had slipped out somewhere in the midst of trying not to look disgusted, but she wasn't angry or throwing things at him for being insensitive. She was apologizing. ... and crying? Oh no. She was really crying over it.

Standing up quickly in the hopes of putting a bit of chaos control into the situation, Ioan put his hand over hers to stop her taking the plate away. "Hey hey, calm down there, babe," he said, grabbing her by the shoulder gently with his other hand. "Don't cry over it, it's just a few stupid pancakes."

"But--but, how are we going to eat?" she cried out, a few tears escaping even though she really didn't want to cry. Caitlin just felt so horrible that she was completely inept at the duties of being a wife. Their sex-life was fantastic, of course, but the rest of the job was certainly not doing too hot.

She looked down at the plate, pouting greatly. Stupid pancakes, ruining everything. Siiiiiigh. At least she was smart and pretty, because she definitely wasn't going to win any prizes with her cooking skills.

"I just--I want to be able to cook for you, and stuff," she muttered, getting a bit embarrassed by admitting that.

Ioan tried not to laugh--really, because laughing at a time when his fiancée was so emotional was probably a bad thing that really would get things thrown at him--but he just couldn't help it! For what an intelligent woman she was, she really was being rather silly about this whole thing. Like they were going to starve just because she couldn't cook! Did she think all those affluent pureblooded women went around learning how to cook for their families? Of course not! His mother or any of her friends had never cooked a meal for their families in their lives... with the world he was coming from, Caitlin could hardly expect he expected her to cook for him, could she?

"Aw, Cate, it's not a big deal, really," he tried to reassure her. It was touching that she wanted to be able to cook for him, and that made him want to make her feel better even more. He was very lucky to have a woman that cared that much. "It's not like I expected you to ever have to bother cooking for me when I decided to marry you or anything. I was thinking we'd get a house elf or two, actually--you know, and if you really want to learn how to cook, you can learn and then we can get rid of them if you want when you can. Just don't cry over it, it's nothing to be crying over."

"Do they do laundry too?" Caitlin asked before she could stop herself.

Of course she'd always dreamed of owning a house-elf, because good Lord she hated doing chores and housework, but she'd never actually thought about it happening. Of course, she should have, knowing the family Ioan was coming from, but she'd just moved into her first house, and the only homelife she knew was her time with Bree and back with her parents. House-elves had never even been thought off (except when his father jokingly called them that, when the kids had to clean).

She smiled and sniffled once more, leaning forward to give him a kiss out of gratitude. Her fiancé was just the sweetest man ever, and she was so glad to have found him. "Thank you," Caitlin said with a grin.

Hah, crisis abated. Ioan gave himself a mental pat on the back and tried not to grin too widely. "Of course they do laundry. They'll do anything you want them to do, really. And you're welcome," he said, receiving the kiss happily. He put his hands on her shoulders and moved so he was standing in front of her, smiling down at her.

"Besides, something so beautiful shouldn't be doomed to doing housework for the rest of her life," he added in, figuring the compliment was just a nice touch and never hurt to add in there. "I'll put in an order for one today, and until then... well, we'll be eating out very well for a couple weeks. That won't bother you, will it?"

"Chaa, definitely not," Caitlin said with a happy smirk, eyes widening. She was not going to try to be creative in the kitchen again, as long as they could handle it. Which was like...forever, seeing as he was born rich and she was an animal Healer that made a pretty knut. Why had she even worried about eating? Did they even have food in the fridge?

And Ioan had definitely earned some points with his little 'beautiful' comment. Of course she knew she was pretty (Like, come on), but it was always refreshing to hear, especially when you'd just rolled out of bed and were still in your pyjamas.

"You," she said, taking his tie in her hands, wondering if he'd mind having to get dressed again, "are very, very good at this doting husband thing." Her eyebrows rose in a suggestive manner.

Tomas + Avis, 1965

2008-11-07T02:22:03Z

He knew that hair anywhere. Tomas loosened his tie and hurried his pace to catch up toward the Hufflepuff that was making a beeline to--of course, the library. When wasn't she in the library? It's like she lived there, or something! Who wanted to live in a library, anyway? It was stuffy and there was no where good to sleep (and believe you me, Tomas Booth has tried).

The sixth year really should find better things to occupy his time with besides torturing Avis Tremaine, but it was just so much fun. Plus, quidditch practice had been canceled and that would just throw off his whole schedule if he decided to fill the void with something as silly as school work.

"Tremaine," he let out, catching up to her and with a swift move popped her book from under her arm and into the air, where he swiftly caught it. Tomas began to walk backwards in front of her as he read the cover, eyebrows going high, "'Hogwarts, a History'? Again. It hasn't changed much since yesterday."

Tobias/Mafalda - August 1972

2008-10-27T03:38:22Z

WHO: Tobias & Mafalda
WHERE: The Gibbon house
WHEN: August, 1972

It had been a pretty fun weekend for Mafalda. She spent a couple of days with Estella at her home before they were forced to go back to school and it was too bad it was Sunday evening already. They had really spent what was a typical girl weekend together and it was just an all around pleasure to be away from home and silly arguments between family members. Plus, her mum picked up drinking again and that was the last thing she really wanted to be around.

As herself, Estella and Tobias all sat in the living room watching a bit of telly, Mal looked up as Estella left the room to get another drink. This left Tobias and Mal together and while that shouldn't have been a problem, she had been finding herself more drawn to the eldest Gibbon and always wanting to talk to him, or at least wanting to take a quick glance. Yes, it was certainly obvious that she thought he was quite the fit bloke, but it was her best friend's brother. Her best friends really old brother. Well, not really old but --well, these were thoughts she should have been thinking and it was really awkward.

Leaning back into the couch, she looked over at Tobias, thinking of something to say. Plus, it was a commercial and they were always boring. "So ... do you know what you're going to do now that you're out of school?" She knew he was well out of school, but Mafalda didn't know his every want and desire. Hell, she had no idea what he wanted to be or do. Merlin, she didn't even know what she wanted to do herself.

Come over and be with your sisters, they'd asked. Stop being a hermit in your dingy flat, they said. Tobias really hated his parents. Didn't they not know he was a really important and integral at the hospital now? It wasn't like Florence or Estella were going away forever, it was just Hogwarts. He could come visit them on Hogsmeade weekends. If he wasn't busy or something. It wasn't that Tobias didn't like his sisters, he was just annoyed that instead of actually doing something with his sisters, he was sitting on the couch, watching telly with Estella and her friend.

Her very annoyingly hot friend. Sixteen year olds were not allowed to be so hot. Tobias kept his eyes on the screen and tried his best not to move so much. But then Estella had to go and leave him alone with the hot girl. Mafalda, which was an absolutely ridiculous name, moreso than Tobias, but it didn't take away from her attractiveness. Mafalda was talking and Tobias was trying his best to keep his eyes on the television because the worst thing in the world would be for Estella to come back in here and catch Tobias thinking inappropriate things about her fellow sixth year. There was a reason Estella was a Slytherin, and Tobias didn't fancy finding out why.

"I'm a healer. I spent the last year doing an internship at St. Mungos. I took the weekend off to spend with Estella and Florence before they go to Hogwarts for another year," Tobias said in an even tone, trying very hard not to look at her. This commercial was bloody boring.

Mal had no bloody idea he was already doing something with his life. It wasn't like she asked Estella about him at all. Well, maybe once or twice. You know, just to ask how he's doing or how the family was in general. She didn't want to seem eager about Tobias at all. Well, she wasn't eager, but she definitely liked looking at him and -- bloody hell, this was the longest commercial break ever. Was it really necessary for Estella to leave when she did? Now she was very alone with a very hot bloke and she really didn't know how to act around someone like him. Especially someone as sophisticated as him. Honestly. A healer?

"Wow. A healer?" she echoed. "That's really neat. Estella never told me you were a healer." For a moment, she looked over at him in admiration, though shook herself out of her thoughts and looked over at the tv. She really didn't want him to think she was staring. Or worse, crazy. "Whats it like, if I may ask? I mean, I hear all sorts of things, but ... I don't think I've ever met a healer, other than my family healer, but she's kind of a bitch." Before Mafalda realized it, she stopped herself from rambling and looked over at him again, idly wondering how badly he wanted to get up and leave.

She certainly hoped he wouldn't leave. Something about him made Mal want to sit and listen to him all day long.

"Yes. Only I've just become a healer, so she probably didn't think it too important, being an intern and all that." Maybe. He and Estella didn't really talk about that kind of stuff. They talked, but not as much as usual. Really, it was all about how he was doing in his flat and how he wasn't dating anyone. Yet. There was always the yet, because his mum asked about it too, it was just hard to find a girlfriend when you were working so much. Even the other guys he was working with now, they didn't have girlfriends much.

"And um, it's work? Like people come in and I help them. I'm starting to specialize now, in Spell Damage, but we have to rotate around for awhile. Like if there's an emergency, I need to be able to work with the plant and poison guys if I need to. Or with that weirdo in creature induced injuries. He's always singing or laughing. I really don't like him," Tobias said, in confession to her own confession about her healer. "I don't really do family stuff though. I like emergencies. Regular coughs and stuff is boring."

It was definitely interesting to sit there and listen about it. She had no idea why she was so drawn to him, it was strange, but definitely something she wasn't about to stop. But once he said it was work she leered slightly. Of course it was work. Work was always work. Bloody hell. "That's really interesting," she admitted, finally moving and situating herself so she was facing him, full attention on what he had to say. At least there was conversation and not just silence during boring commercial breaks, which had eventually ended, but she still wanted to talk to Tobias rather than watch the telly.

"What kind of emergencies? Like, what was your worst?" She was probably being too nosy now, but she was really interested for some reason. Probably because it was just him talking. "I wish Estella had told me more about you. Other than you just being her big brother. There's more to you than that." Yes there was and she really wanted to learn. She blushed slightly, realizing she was staring and then realizing that she just told him she basically wanted Estella to talk about him. "Oh, god. I'm sorry. I should stop talking," Mafalda said with a nervous laugh. She felt like a complete arse.

"I uh," Tobias never faltered with his sentences. Ever. But the presence of a girl, a fit one such as Mafalda, and having her lean close to him like that? Not at all conducive to proper sentence structure and grammar usage. And she was acting interested in his life. In him. Why was she doing that? That was not normal little-sister's-best-friend behavior. And it made Tobias really pleasantly uncomfortable.

"There was this guy with horns once. He was pretty mad and every time he yelled, he sprouted another horn, in the most unfortunate places. But it just made him madder and well, we finally had to sedate him. That was my first day of work. There's other stuff, but it's not really suitable to talk about," Tobias said, turning to look at her too. She wanted to know more about him? To have Estella talk about him? To her? He agreed that she should stop talking, but also Tobias didn't think that that was quite the way to do it. On an impulse, (which he would chalk up to hormones, loneliness and her proximity) Tobias leaned forward and pressed his mouth against hers in a soft kiss.

Seeing him pause like that made Mafalda blink. Oh god, she had murdered all of his brain cells and he would never be able to go back to work or make money or ... bloody hell, what had she done? She would have to profusely apologize for looking like such an asshole now. She really didn't mean to fail so epically. But of course, once he began to speak again, she regained complete composure, or at least complete faith in the fact that she didn't kill his head.

But once she began listening again, a smile grew on her face as he spoke about a man growing horns when he got mad and it only making him even angrier, and really, that was quite something. Something to really think about. "That sounds really --" before she finished her sentence, she stopped, though only to find that his lips had found hers in a really unexpected kiss. Blinking, Mafalda took a second, but finally kissed him back, glad that he finally took initiative. Grinning and blushing at the same time, she pulled out for a second, only to speak.

"It's about time you did that," she said before going in for another kiss, this time making sure it had some sort of ... something behind it.

Tobias was ready to jump up off of the couch when Mafalda pulled away, because it was oh so wrong. She was Estella's friend. Estellas sixteen-year-old friend. Still in Hogwarts. And also Estella was in the kitchen, getting them drinks. And he was sitting here, and Mafalda was snogging him again. Tobias put his hand on her neck and kissed her back very well, because he was pretty sure Estella was going to come back in here this very moment, but he couldn't stop himself. It was like he knew it was wrong, but his body didn't agree and really, he could've pushed her back onto the couch and turned it into a full-blown snog, but he couldn't.

No, no, no, no, this was wrong. Tobias broke off the kiss but didn't pull away. He looked into her eyes, torn and distracted – her pulse was right under his thumb, he could feel their mixing heartbeats and just breathed with her for a moment.

"We can't." Tobias wasn't sure for a moment if he'd actually said it outloud. "You're Estella's friend. I'm her brother."

She wasn't sure how it happened, but it did and she really liked it. But, oh god. He was like four years older than her. But wait, sixteen. That wasn't too young, was it? Maybe not since he kissed her and---god, that was excellent. And he kissed her back after she kissed him. There was definitely something wrong with this, but that's not how it felt to her. It just felt really good and thats all that mattered to her in that moment.

When he pulled away, she closed her eyes for a moment, knowing she did something that was wrong, but he didn't move back to the other side of the couch. That was good, right? But still, she could see in his eyes he felt this was wrong. Sighing, she lowered her head when he spoke and as much as she wanted to nod and agree with him, she couldn't. "You can do whatever you want. And right now, telling me this is wrong is not what you want." Oh god, she felt like a idiot. She really did, but there was no denying that that kiss they shared definitely had some sort of feeling behind it.

Lowering her head again, she sighed and mumbled beneath her breath. "Bloody hell."

No, no he really didn't want to stop, and his sister was just an excuse, because that kiss was bloody wonderful. Tobias couldn't remember kissing someone like that, ever. He nuzzled her lightly, kissing her once again. This time was softer and a kiss filled with regret. He pulled away, a look in his eyes asking forgiveness as he did so. This wasn't fair, but it was wrong in so many more ways than it was right, but it was still so right.

Tobias heard Estella and her mother laughing from the hallway and he jumped back, sitting back against the couch and facing the telly like nothing had happened. Tobias bit his lip and tried not to think of the way Mafalda's lips felt under his, as Estella passed him a drink. He couldn't hear anything above the rush of blood in his ears and he couldn't concentrate on the telly, but he had to. They'd been watching some crap show, and now he had to go back to that. "Thanks," he said, hoping his voice didn't sound too off, to Estella.

December 8th, 1978

2008-10-08T19:16:39Z

Who: Timothy Greengrass and Adamina Hooke
What: Wedding day jitters!
Where: Wedding..place
When: December 8th, 1978

This was supposed to be the happiest day of his life, so why did he feel like he was going to throw up all over the new carpets of the hall. Tim paced in the small room they'd given him, family and friends going in and out without paying much notice to him. Which, he found sort of odd, seeing as it was his wedding day, but it did help with people not noticing the fact that his face was green.

He had to see Mina.

He knew he wasn't supposed to, but she was the only one that would be able to get him to calm down and not throw up. Ryan would probably attempt to get him drunk which---sounded appealing, but was not the best answer to his problems and---and yes---he needed to see her.

Ducking out of the room, Tim hurried down the hallway and around the corner to the bridal suite---thing. Oy, he was going to get sick, he was going to ruin this wedding and---quickly knocking, Tim dropped his forehead to Adamina's door, hand already going to the door knob to push it open, "Mina?"

In a sense, Adamina was ecstatic the other girls had left to go get ready by themselves. She needed to have some alone time anyway. She sat in front of a mirror, fidgeting quickly with the lace on her wedding dress. She was really happy, there was no doubt about that, but she was also really nervous. Her family was being supportive. Somewhat, at least. Everyone was running around like chickens with their heads cut off. It was like this giant gala, when it was really just a family and close friends wedding. Bloody hell, the people who were stressing over this wedding were driving Mina crazy. Couldn't something be simple for once?

Standing up with this notion in mind, Mina started to pace in front of her chair, wringing her hands idly, thinking about what Tim could have possibly been thinking about. As this crossed her mind, she heard a knock on the door and as she went to answer it, she heard that it was Tim and quickly stopped.

"Tim! You can't see me!" she exclaimed before running to the door and holding the knob so he couldn't come in. It wasn't that she didn't want to see him, she just didn't want to make that silly superstition come true. Or really, whatever it was. Plus, she probably looked horribly horrified right then.

The door pushed back and Tim let out a grunt as it stubbed his toes.

"Right---I---" She could hear him through the door, right? He let out a breath and stepped back before turning around to sit at the base of the door. Tim refrained from combing his hands through his hair, because his mother had already fussed with it a few times this morning, so he simply dropped it back against the door, "Am I allowed to talk to you?"

There couldn't be a superstition against that, that could not be helped. What if he wasn't sure where the rings were? Well--he probably wouldn't want to mention that to Adamina half an hour before the ceremony, so he wouldn't talk to her then (Tim's hand went to his chest to pat the pocket and feel the rings--phew), but that had to be okay with the rules of weddings. Were there any more? He knew about the something borrowed, something blue, and...something else, but...he was just going to sit here, for now.

"Should I go?"

She rested against the door for a moment, wondering if it was really okay to talk to him before the wedding. Surely they could, but how would they know they couldn't? Why wasn't there some kind of wedding rule book? It'd probably be good to invest in. Sighing, she heard him sit down on the other side of the door and followed suit, not caring about the dress for now.

"Yes," she said quietly, wanting him to stay there and talk to her. She knew they could calm each other down if they were both nervous. It would be a lot easier to make it through this wedding if she could see her future husband. Sighing, she leaned her head against the door, listening to him breathe.

"Don't leave," she sighed, fluffing her dress up some. "Are you nervous?" she questioned curiously. Mina knew she was more nervous than was really necessary, but she wanted to know if she was nervous for nothing.

Tim opened his mouth to say yes, but paused because he didn't know if that would upset her or not. Wasn't it normal to be nervous? He knew he loved her, he knew that Adamina was the person he wanted to spend his life with, to build his life with, so why was he nervous?

He heard Nick shouting at him, they were too young! There was a war going on! His job didn't pay that well, how were they supposed to survive? Sure Mina had her parents, but Tim never felt good about taking money from them, and--and he wanted to be able to take care of his family, and he really did honestly believe he could.

"Yeah," he responded, shifting to pull his legs underneath him, staring at the door across the hall. "But---it's not the bad kind of nervous?" he tried to explain before she could react and disapparate out of there and leave him at the altar, "It's the---right before a quidditch match, kind of nervous. I think."

She fell silent for a moment thinking about his answer. The kind before a Quidditch match? Did that mean he was really scared or kind of pumped and excited? To her, it didn't really make sense, but she didn't worry about it too much. As long as they would be married by the end of the night, she knew it was right. Who cared if they were too young?

Mina had her own worries about the marriage. Her brother barely approved, but then again, she was independent and she knew what she wanted. Sighing, she smiled slightly and thought about their future together. How amazing was it that she was getting ready to marry the only person in the world she knew she was ready to spend the rest of her life with.

"This is it," she said nervously, hoping that wouldn't scare him off. She wasn't full of a lot of things to say, but at the right moments, she figured she might know what could be said. "This is the first day of the rest of our lives."

Hearing Adamina's words sent a chill through his body. Tim's eyes opened and a small grin crossed his features. He pushed himself up off the ground and turned, putting his hands on the door. The first day of the rest of their lives. He definitely hadn't thought of it like that, not with all his friends hooting and hollering about the old ball and chain.

The first day of the rest of their lives. Today, they could seriously think about their home, they could think about where they would be in one, five, ten, fifty years. Today they could honestly consider what would be a good time to have children, today they were going to be a married couple who loved each other for better, or for worse. Tim had lost so much in his life, his father, his brother, so the thought of being able to create new life with Adamina was absolutely invigorating, and he couldn't believe he'd been nervous about this just five minutes before.

See--he knew he needed to talk to her.

"I love you," he said through the door, moving his face as close as possible. He did not care about any feelings of embarrassment, Tim didn't dare hold back his feelings for Adamina anymore. "I'm ready to be your husband."

Mina could hear every move he made on the other side of the door and when he stood, so did she, her hands touching the door right where it sounded his touched. Her forehead rested against the door lightly as she smiled, listening to him talk. They were getting married soon and then they would have their whole lives ahead of them. Together. That was the most amazing part of all.

Almost as if she could hear the gears turning in Tim's head, Adamina began to get slightly teary eyed, letting a couple tears slip away, followed by a quiet sniffle. There was no denying that this was bound to be the happiest day of her life. For good reason, too. They were about to start their lives together.

"I love you, too," she whispered through the door, holding back tears of happiness. She hadn't meant to be so sappy, but he completely did this to her. And to be honest, she no longer cared of this superstition. She wanted to see him more than ever now. "You stop that. My makeup is going to run," she declared, wiping away her tears, a small smile spreading across her lips.

Letting out a short laugh, Tim nodded, even though she couldn't see him. He felt a lot lighter, glad that he'd made himself nervous enough to come over here. How anyone could be calm and cocky on their wedding day completely alluded him, but Tim was now overcome with a sense of...he wasn't calm, his stomach was still twisting and turning, but he was feeling as if he was doing the right thing. Aha.

"Okay---I'll see you at the end of the aisle," he said, rapping his knuckles lightly on the door before heading back to his suite. Huh. Next time he saw her, she was going to be his wife.

Maybe that's why the superstition had lasted so long. It had pretty awesome results.