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hufflepuff





vijay prakash.




































miracle
















location

rosa lee teabag






outfit







interactions

ophelia, sophia, saira
















A state of surprise still washed over Vijay for a moment before he finally registered Ophelia’s question in his head, his gaze glancing down at his chest before looking back up to give her a nod.
”I’m fine, the tea wasn’t too hot - not sure about this guy, though,”
he replied, crouching a bit to get eye level with the owl for a moment as his fellow Hufflepuff also questioned the owl to see if it was alright. The bird seemed to hover a few moments in the air as it tried to fly but made no progress, swiftly landing back on the table again while Vijay frowned in return, standing back to his normal height.
”Yeah, I definitely think he may have hurt his wing during that fall.”


”Mr. Prakash. Miss Reynolds, I do believe this is an excellent learning opportunity.” Vijay jumped at the sound of his own name, head quickly turning to find that Professors Allegro and Shafiq had taken interest in the commotion, their superior eyeing the bird up and down for a moment before making eye contact with them.
”U-uhm, y-yes ma’am,”
he stammered back, never quite sure what a learning opportunity meant when it came to Hogwarts professors. Then again, so far they had never steered him wrong and all seemed to keep a lookout for his well-being. ”This little thing appears to be wounded. What do you believe the proper solution would be to assist our feathery friend?”

His eyes wandered from both of the professors back down to the owl, gaze examining the package in its claws before glancing around to see if there were any visible wounds - none, but at least that was to be expected. ”Perhaps we should open the package since it was so eager to join our gathering.” He smiled at Professor Shafiq’s suggestion, having also wondered what exactly was in the package considering it had crashed onto their table. The owl, however, seemed to be opposed to that suggestion as it protested with wide wings and a protective stance.
”Or perhaps not,”
he responded softly, taking note that whatever was in the package was not for their eyes.

The owl seemed to hesitate for a moment, glancing at each of them before finally settling on Vijay, nipping at his hand with a quick motion to grab his full attention.
”Hey!”
he shouted back, startled a bit as he pulled his hand close to his chest while giving the bird his full attention.
”Okay, okay - you’ve got my attention buddy. What is it?”
He watched as the owl tapped his beak against the address before opening it back up in a threatening manner.
”Alright, alright! I think I know exactly what you want…”
His voice trailed off as he looked over to Ophelia, Sophia, and Saira.

”To answer your question, professor, I believe in this situation we should help this owl find its destination to deliver its package… It looks like 59 Diagon Alley,”
he started, taking the handle of his wand as he leaned toward the owl.
”And, whether he likes it or not, I think this wing could use a good fixing - Episkey!”
With a flick of his wand a soft glow radiated from the tip as he hovered it over the wing he had noticed extended slightly at the side - a quick spell he had learned through all his times helping out some of the Hufflepuff quidditch players when they inevitably wound up injured. He smiled, extending his arm out to the owl to perch himself on.

”He can ride with me, it’s… I don’t think it’s the first time I’ve seen this guy,”
he told the other three, remembering back to the owl crashing down into his dream that woke him up in the middle of the night.
”The only issue is… I haven’t lived here my whole life, I still get turned around in Diagon Alley. I have no clue where that address is.”
He frowned, holding his arm stiff as the owl perched itself. He could remember seeing that address somewhere before… A dream, a postcard, a vision - something. Something tours. Right? Maybe.
”What about you Ophelia, any idea where this might be? Or if you at least know where the business number might be, that could help,”
he asked, hoping she might have a better idea. After all, their professors were watching - he didn’t want to leave them unimpressed.










 
Ophelia.

As Ophelia watched Vijay engage with Professors Allegro and Shafiq, her focus was momentarily divided. Her admiration for Vijay's skillful care of the small owl, coupled with a sense of pride in his proficiency with healing spells, filled her with relief. The anxiety that had initially tightened around her heart at the mishap left as she observed both her friend and the owl emerge unscathed from the incident.

The owl gave another soft "hoo" and its curious gaze towards her ignited a desire within Ophelia to gently stroke its feathers. Her smile widened, reflecting the gentle nature that endeared her to both people and animals alike.

She was quickly brought out of the moment when Vijay turned to her with a question, seeking her insight into the mystery at hand. "What about you, Ophelia, any idea where this might be? Or if you at least know where the business number might be, that could help," he asked, his voice carrying a mix of hope and anticipation.

Caught by surprise, Ophelia's cheeks flushed with a rush of color, her nervousness palpable as the focus shifted to her. Accustomed to supporting roles rather than being at the forefront, the sudden attention caused her to falter momentarily. The expectant gazes of Vijay and the professors prompted a nervous gulp as she scrambled to provide a useful response.

"59? I can't say I immediately recall anything," she admitted softly, her voice a whisper in the quiet of the tea shop's outdoor seating area.

Her mind raced, filtering through her memories of Diagon Alley's shops in search of a clue that might help them. It was the recollection of a sweets shop coupon from her sister that finally sparked a connection. Though not exactly the address in question, it was close enough to warrant mention.

"Sugarplum's Sweets Shop is near there," she ventured, her voice tinged with surprise at her own suggestion. The warmth that spread across her cheeks continually betrayed her discomfort, yet she pushed forward to offer a potential lead. "It might be a decent starting point, unless the Professors know the address."

As she brushed away the tendrils of hair from her face, Ophelia's gaze shifted back to Professors Allegro and Shafiq. The contrast between their poised confidence and her own tentative demeanor was much too apparent. She had always found them to be very intimadating..in the most wonderful of ways. She aspired to have as much confidence in herself as Professor Allegro, and Professor Shafiq was as personable as she was intelligent.

Crossing her arms, Ophelia held herself tightly, an instinctive gesture that served both to comfort herself and brace for the response to her suggestion. Her eyes searched the faces of the professors and Vijay for signs of approval or dismissal, invested in their opinion of her.


mood: nervous
interactions: death to birds death to birds comfortable comfortable OrpheusTalks OrpheusTalks
Rosa Lee Teabag

© PASTA​
 



gryffindor.





briar layton.



































paris, texas
















location

the leaky cauldron






outfit







interactions

pen & markus & maurice < 3
















With the morning she had endured the humid environment of the Leaky Cauldron was a breath of fresh air for Briar. Her once gleaming patent leather shoes were scuffed and sticking to the gummy wooden floor, and today’s patrons had miraculously managed to bring the smell of an actual quidditch pitch into an environment so far from one, but Briar was now free of the sympathetic words and concerned glances that had plagued her morning in Diagon Alley.

The impending date of her return to Hogwarts was a touchy subject at that moment; subsequently, all the purchasing of supplies and fitting for new robes was done very swiftly and in a hush-hush way, like her family were committing acts of espionage rather than choosing between types of parchment.

Now, Briar unwound her scarf from her neck, running a hand through her hair to slick back the flyaways caused by the September wind. she surveyed her friends with an absentminded upturn of her lips, chuffing a laugh at Markus’s remark and leaning over to give Pen a friendly squeeze on the arm, some of the stress of the day waning as she eased back into the rhythm of socialisation. A summer spent in hospitals and tending to her ailing father seemed like a thing of the past when she was here, cheeks warmed by the hustle and bustle of the crowd, Hogwarts students and professors alike dotted around the room.

The comfortable silence was, of course, fleeting as Maurice, a character Briar was desperately trying to avoid eye contact with, made himself known. The mention of volunteers by Markus was met with a grimace from Briar, who, upon meeting eyes with the squib magician, morphed it into a friendly, encouraging smile.

Maurice the Squib opens his suitcase and sticks both arms inside. He pulls out a short table, three cups, and a small ball. Maurice sets the three cups open side down and holds up the ball for everyone to see. "My first trick!" He announces as he lifts the middle cup and places the ball underneath. "Now, please watch closely!" Maurice begins to slowly swap the cups around, intent on making it easy for the crowd to follow. He lifts the original cup once he is done and reveals that the ball is no longer there. Instead, it is underneath the cup that had been on his right side. "You all understand how it works now, yes? You have to watch very, very closely!" Maurice explains and claps his hands. "Now, if I could have someone step forward to take a gander at tracking the ball... Lovely young woman with brown hair! You must be a student at Hogwarts. Come, I am sure you have a sharp eye!" He continues, picking Briar from the line. "Please, if you could tell us your name and then we will begin!"

“Oh Christ,” it was a sentiment expressed quietly through gritted teeth. Briar’s face remained in that smile, now an uncomfortable contortion of her features, a prickling embarrassment slithering up her spine as he crooked one of his boney fingers for her to come closer. Quickly, the gaping silence between his words and the gesture became too much. There was only so long she could let the man stand there with his party trick before the annoyance she felt at her singling out became pity. She took a small step forward, separating herself from the line with one last wide-eyed expression thrown back at her friends.

"Briar,” she said to the man, tacking a nervous laugh onto the end of the statement.

"So, Briar, you understand the makings of my trick, yes?” As the man leaned down, Briar felt she was being spoken to by an incredibly uncharismatic stick insect whose cologne was made of moth balls and stale cigarette smoke.

“I do,” Briar affirmed, her expression softening slightly. It felt like the sort of silly thing her father would do to entertain her as a child “I’ll keep an eye out, Maurice.”

The man dipped his head in a bow-like motion of acknowledgement and brandished the ball to the crowd once more, placing it under the centre cup and repeating the trick, the cups sliding in front of her eyes. She watched the cups placidly, nodding along, hoping people had lost interest and weren’t still staring at the side of her head.

"Alright, my dear, the choice is yours.” With a flourish of his hands, he presented the cups in a straight line, raising a single brow.

“Right, let’s say...” she paused, her pointer finger hesitating and coming to her bottom lip to rest. “This one,” the Gryffindor motioned towards the middle cup, watching his face with morbid curiosity.

The confirmation that she had chosen wrong came when the man's thin lip quirked upward. Damn it. She silently prayed that none of the attractive, eligible bachelor members of the Cannons had managed to see this minor humiliation as the magician raised the cup, revealing the empty space underneath with a flourish.

“Ah, hard luck, young witch. No fear; I’m positive they mustn't be marking you on this sort of thing at school.” He returned his hands to his cups, revealing the ball underneath the one to the left.

“Hmm, thankfully not,” Briar nodded shortly and took the lull in the interaction as her opportunity to step back slightly, trying to rejoin her friends in the line with a private roll of her eyes to them.

“If either of you were true friends, you would’ve faked a medical emergency to distract from that scene.”











 



hufflepuff.





jesper pearce.



































are you bored yet?
















location

magical menagerie






outfit

baddie clothes






interactions

atlas & professor castillo
















“How are ya holding up?”

“Uh–quite alright, thank you!” Jesper exclaimed sarcastically, now knees deep in his own sticking spell as he tried to hoist out two mice from their magical confines. As effective as the Transfiguration had been, the messiness of the spell, paired with the plethora of disgruntled shoppers, sure made for a stimulating environment to critically self-reflect. Perhaps he too should’ve given priority to the Immobulus charm as his companion had, but–well, let’s say there’s a reason why Jesper was sorted into Hufflepuff over Ravenclaw.

Juggling the two rodents in one hand, the wizard would raise his wand to clean up the mess he made before working his way towards Atlas. He’d jump up to catch a pair of toads he had left to hover in mid-air helplessly, his arms now filled to the brim with non-magical critters that were not too eager about their current captor. Jesper, willing to give in to slight delusion, had hoped that Bixby would have his back and calm the other critters with words of relief or a nice song, but the grumbly toad was still nonchalantly nestled in the confines of his pocket.

Having grown rather worried in the chaos of the current predicament, Jesper found immediate alleviation once the warm voice of Professor Castillo met his ears. As though watching a superhero emerge from the crowd, he gleamed with an earnest smile, happy to know that they would not have to deal with this situation alone. “Your timing is impeccable, Professor Castillo.” he’d remark with excitement, respecting the good fate of a Magizoologist showing up to this particular conundrum.

With the situation seeming to ease down ever-so-slightly, focus shifted to the owner of the store. Accompanied by his diverse company of impatient little creatures, Jesper would curiously listen to the shopkeeper as he began his request for help. The initial entries on the escapee list, while troublesome, admittedly didn’t seem that difficult to deal with. Sure, it wouldn’t be a venture without some chaos or mischief, but manageable and nonlethal nonetheless, no? Unfortunately, Jesper’s optimistic views had arisen prematurely, for once the final fugitive was whispered, a rough reality check sunk in.

Now, Jesper wasn’t usually all that afraid of spiders, but giant, flesh-eating variants seemed to make for an understandable exception. An Acromantula–seriously? Shivers ran down his spine as a tense chuckle escaped his lungs, a testament to him taking in the surreal nature of the news being provided to them. Jesper cleared his throat from the initial disbelief, his passive smile now tempted by glimpses of uncharacteristic anxiety.

“Sorry, Sir, just one quick question from me: When you say ‘small’, just how.. ‘small’ are we talking?”










 
















scroll me!







mood
Ready to finish the hellish chore that is shopping




Tags
cwosont cwosont ghostlynarcissus ghostlynarcissus @stareintotheabyss











Quinn Kingston

Location - The Daily Prophet









As the seemingly endless questioning continued on, Quinn was beginning to realize that the purebloods stuck in their ways need to be handed a reality check. The snide comments made off-handedly by Noemie and Ursula were quite irritating to the man that was usually a bouncing ball of energy and welcoming warmth. With each sigh and scratch of the back of his head he was getting the picture that whatever article was printed with their responses would be nothing more than fuel for the panic and rage within wizardkind. Before Grace could continue with her frivolous messing about and preparing to pose her next question, Quinn stretched his arms above him and spoke, ''Pure of blood with a filthy, muddled mindset, an interesting combination of traits if you ask me. Opening your minds to a different viewpoint wouldn't be the end of the world as you know it since we are all essentially human besides our few friends with a more diverse genetic makeup. I appreciate that Medea has enough decency to understand that we share more in common than we do differences with muggles.''

"Excellent, you are all so thoughtful and well informed," Grace commented, nodding in approval. "Time to dig a little deeper! What are your thoughts on the Minister's emergency legislation to prevent any wizard involvement in the Muggle war? Are you in support or opposition of 'underground' movements to offer support despite the Ministry's decision?"

Noémie crossed her legs and answered, "It did not come as a surprise. We risk exposure by helping Muggles directly, and I am sure it would not be up to us alone. MACUSA and the rest of the magical governments would need to agree." She tapped her nails on her knee. "That being said, we could have intervened prior to the war beginning. Grindelwald, power hungry as he is, did warn us." Noémie shrugged. Nothing could be done about that now. "As for... unofficial efforts. It is not the first time, and it undoubtedly will not be the last. I have nothing to say against it."

Medea, absorbing Noémie's words and Grace's next question, took a moment to collect herself. "The Ministry's decision to pass emergency legislation was, in many ways, a defensive maneuver," Medea began, her voice steady and analytical. "It's a reflection of our society's instinct to protect itself and its secrets. It was logical to do." She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm afraid I'm not a Gryffindor, screaming "bravery" and jumping into things headfirst " she almost chuckled, before catching herself "so from a witches standpoint, I can't say I disagree with it. As for the underground activity...I'm not just a witch. I bleed like a muggle, and I imagine I often like the same things they do. No. I can't say I oppose the idea of others helping their fellow beings, regardless of what rules are put in place. "

The withering look she gave Noemie from her seat could have killed a mandrake. Leave it to her to have such a neutral look at things, or at least have it printed that way once the paper was sent to the press. She outright ignored the bowl cut wearing witch near her, growing tired of her "poor muggle" monologues. "Risk ourselves for *them*? That seems rather foolish, considering how we work so desperately to keep ourselves protected," Ursula murmured, her face contorting into confusion as if she found the question almost too stupid to answer.

Quinn wasn't as dumbfounded at this current round of questioning as he couldn't confidently say that any magical involvement would make the war efforts better or worse. He took a moment to collect himself while he lightly began to tap his foot on the floor, ''I don't know how I would feel about a heavy magical involvement in this war. To others, the side that requires support should be obvious. That, however, doesn't mean that the powers that be will go along a similar line of thinking. If anything, the ministry is more likely to take the side of the ones with the most power and control over the tides of the war that semi-align with their own goals. It could cause more catastrophe and allow magic to become the deciding power in any given war that follows. Now an underground coalition of sorts might be alright depending on what outcome they support and how they go about doing it. There's too many unknowns about individual reasons for wanting to participate.''







♡design by neon reverie, coded by uxie♡
 
Pen.

Briar's participation in Maurice's magic act, a peculiar bit of muggle sleight of hand was an unexpected twist to the evening. Pen watched, barely containing her amusement, as Briar acted as a good sport, played along with Maurice's disappearing and reappearing ball trick. Despite Briar's discomfort, she managed to maintain a polite facade throughout the act.

When she made her way back to them, Pen could barely hold in a snort of laughter. She looked positively annoyed.

“If either of you were true friends, you would’ve faked a medical emergency to distract from that scene.”

A tiny tear came down from Pen's inner corner of her eye, evidence of how great she had found her volunteering to be. "Sorry, I'll do that next time a magician pops in. Or I'll volunteer Markus first." She chuckled again, quite pleased with herself before the Squib began to speak .

"Onto my next trick!"


Maurice tucks the table and cups away, replacing them with an emerald wizard's cloak made of a thick velvet. He unfolds the cloak and holds it out for the audience to see. "As you can tell, this here is a cloak! Your average one, at that. Sold and purchased at our very own Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions!" He announces, shaking the cloak. "There has been no tampering of any kind!"

"Now, I require another volunteer..."

Pen raises an eyebrow. How many bloody helpers did this man need? She uses her lack of height to her advantage, subtly shifting herself behind Markus's taller form or so she hoped.

He walks up and down in a short line. Many avoid eye contact. Maurice naturally glances at Briar, then shifts to her companions. He offers an apologetic smile. "You there! With the lovely head of blonde hair... Would you please offer me your assistance?" Maurice requests with a polite bow. "All I require is for you to adorn this cloak and strut about for a few moments."

Pen scowled, letting out a groan of annoyance at being noticed.

"What use is being tall if you can't bloody hide people behind you." She managed to hiss out to Markus as she, indeed, very reluctantly she dragged herself along to join the magician.

Besides being extremely reluctant, Maurice appreciates Pen's participation. "Watch as our lovely volunteer models this cloak for us! And stay alert, because you may think you hear the crisp crack of apparition but I promise that is not the case!" He swiftly pulls the cloak from Pen's shoulders with a dramatic flair and a practiced hand. They disappear from their spot entirely, reappearing three yards away.

The crowd erupted into polite applause as Pen reappeared the spectacle of her sudden disappearance and reappearance nothing short of interesting for someone who claimed no magic. For her though, the experience was disorienting, leaving her with a queasy feeling in her stomach. The sensation was all too similar to her Apparition exam despite the Squib's insistence it was nothing like it. Or perhaps it was simply nerves of being stared at so intently.

Standing there, under the gazes of the crowd and (likely) the watchful eyes of the Chudley Cannons, Pen felt a wave of unease. The last thing she wanted was to become memorable for all the wrong reasons, especially in front of professional Quidditch players.

Merlin, if I spew in front of them I'm drowning myself in the Black Lake.

As the polite applause died down and Maurice continued with a bow Pen made her way back to Markus and Briar, but not before giving the Squib a rather harsh glare on her way back.

"Pen, you should go with me to see this event. Oh it'll be such a grand time, " she mocked, scrunching up her face as she glared at Markus, "fat chance I'll ever go do anything with you again, Keeper." She huffed, rubbing her stomach and giving Briar a rather pitiful look.

"I hope his next trick is to disappear."

mood: nauseated
interactions: OrpheusTalks OrpheusTalks stargrrl. stargrrl.
the leaky cauldron

© PASTA​
 
Last edited:













  • XI.
    the Tawny Owl





    Sophia
    mood
    ready to rumble or chat

    location
    59 Diagon Alley

    interactions
    Saira, Ophelia, Vijay

    tags
    death to birds death to birds thehighpriestess thehighpriestess comfortable comfortable





designed by bad ending & coded by xayah.ღ
 













  • XI.
    the Chudley Cannons





    Markus
    mood
    playful

    location
    the Leaky Cauldron

    interactions
    open

    tags
    thehighpriestess thehighpriestess stargrrl. stargrrl.





designed by bad ending & coded by xayah.ღ
 





/* ------ left side ------ */




/* ------ left side info ------ */
mood indifferent

location diagon alley

outfit here

music none

tag Soot Soot Pandaroo Pandaroo Historia Calamatium Historia Calamatium


rose thomas




/* ------ right side ------ */

Before she could protest her complaints Keaton pushed them forward right back into the crowd they had just escaped. He was right, and Rose hated it, she did know him well enough to know he was going to drag them to the sound of danger, rather than away from it. She clutched his hand tightly as he navigated them through the throng, in fear they might become separated. Upon reaching the scene, the smoke had nearly dissipated, revealing a distraught woman sobbing into her hands.

Releasing Keaton’s hand she stepped forward and gathered the woman into her arms. Her eyes caught on the broken wand a few feet away and she huffed. “Please, it’ll be alright. Just stay here and wait for-” Before she could finish her sentence Keaton took off. Silently Rose cursed herself for getting mixed up with one of the most foolhardy boys she’d ever met. She should’ve known better yet Rose didn't hesitate as she chased after her friend, leaving the woman alone, her sobs drowned out by the distance.

Rose pushed her legs faster as she ran past a newspaper stand nearly demolished by an unknown force. She frowned at the sight; haphazardly casting spells in a crowded space seemed very reckless, even for Keaton. Finally catching up to him, she watched in horror as Lycus slammed into Keaton. She dashed over to her friend, just as Lycus stood up and began to berate him. Rolling her eyes as she reached the pair, she didn’t spare Lycus a glance as she extended a hand to Keaton.

“Are you okay?” She gave him a look over before turning her attention to glare at Malfoy. “From the looks of it, you ran into Keaton, Malfoy.” She paused noticing the deep scrape on his hands, “If it was you casting spells like you have no sense, I doubt you, alone, could’ve caught the thief.” Shooting Keaton a disapproving look, she continued, “I understand you’re dangerously thick, but must you also be so rash?” She huffed before pulling her wand from the sock of her combat boot, confidently she moved towards Lycus and she grabbed his wrist pulling him closer.

Recalling Professor Charles's healing spell, she murmured the incantation and swiftly mended Lycus's injured hand. Stepping back, she crossed her arms. “Hit your head so hard you forgot one of the most basic spells Malfoy?” She didn’t wait for his answer before she continued “Did you guys see where the robber was heading? There’s enough of us to maybe catch him before he gets away. If we split up, of course, it wouldn’t make sense to stay together, plus he’s already seen Lycus’s face.” Rose in truth didn’t care if they caught the robber, she was more curious about how the situation would turn out.



/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 



DADA.





Sebastian Carrow.



































end of the beginning
















location

Cobb & Webb's






outfit

he has clothes on!






interactions

shopkeep, silas






tags














A frown etched across Sebastian's face as he strained to read the worn spine in the ambient light of the store. He understood Cobb & Webb's was going for the whole mysterious and dubious items look, but it hardly mattered if he struggled to properly view their stock. Sliding the book from the rickety wooden shelf, his fingers wiped the dust from the cover, Unforgivable Curses, and Their Legal Implications, Volume II. While his lesson plan was mostly complete, there may be something useful in here that he could include. Feeling accomplished, Sebastian tucked the book under his arm and made his way towards Velma, who stood behind the counter, per usual.

What was unusual, was the man standing at the counter, or at least Sebastian didn't think it was usual. He hadn't ever seen Silas in here, nor did the man speak of visiting the store. Maybe, Silas had a secret obsession with the dark occults as well, he'd have to ask him about it later.
"Carrow! What a pleasant surprise."
Silas said with a smile,
"Doing a bit of shopping?"


"Mhm,"
he hummed,
"Mostly for the upcoming term, though I won't lie, my trip to Cobb & Webb's was for trinkets, and to see the beautiful Velma, of course."
He said, gesturing to the woman behind the counter with a gentle smile he hoped would encourage a discount.
"What about you?"
Sebastian questioned with a curious gaze.

The witch glances between the two wizards, then settles on Sebastian to see the man's reaction.
"Mr. Carrow, dear. You know this man?"
She asks in surprise.

Sebastian nods,
"He's a good friend of mine,"
Upon receiving confirmation of their acquaintance, her gaze shifts to Silas as she considers her options.

"Well, then. Perhaps we do have some extra stock in the back..."


Stock in the back? Sebastian shot his collogue a look of confusion. Figuring out whatever Silas was up to would have to wait. Velma liked Sebastian enough, but her clear weariness of Silas would only grow if Sebastian openly questioned him.

After gesturing for the two men to follow her, the witch leads them both to a door in the back of the store. She draws her wand and taps the door in three places. It clicks open a moment later. The back room is similarly organized in rows of aisles and merchandise, but most items are kept in glass.
"Best not to touch anything directly..."
She warns, turning to Silas.
"You mentioned Lycanthropy, dear? We do have a moonstone..."


"I think I remember where that is. If you would like, I could show him? That way you can get back out to the front."
Sebastian offered, Velma nodded hesitantly, before excusing herself.

"If I recall correctly, the moonstone should be over here."
He said, leading Silas towards the isle with various gemstones.
"Is there anything in particular you're looking for?"
Sebastian asked, eyes scanning the room for anything that could be related to Lycanthropy. In the right corner, a man is holding up a suspicious necklace, showing it off to the woman with him, with a grin on his face. Sebastian couldn't help but feel a bit jealous, the neckless would have been nice for his collection.

“That woman. I’m here for her and her son, Sebastian.”
He murmured, glancing over at the elderly witch before continuing,
“I’m concerned for their safety, you see.”
Clearing his throat, he spoke up,
“Ah, nothing here seems to do the trick. Maybe over here..”
Silas took the lead and casually walked closer to the man holding the necklace, hoping to be within earshot.

Odd...Sebastian thought as he followed Silas, trying to piece together what exactly was going on. In an attempt to look busy, he pretended to ponder the items before him. The woman did look slightly out of her element, but most people do their first time in the backroom. Nonetheless, he trusted Silas, enough to know that if the man smelt trouble, it was not without reason.

Suddenly, a thought rang clear in his head. Silas had mentioned a son, but it only seemed to be the four of them back here.

"You mentioned needing two of them, but I'm only seeing one,"
Sebastian said trying to keep his words as covert as possible.










 














A n t o n i o



A
ntonio gave his students a nod of approval at their handling of the creatures, his grin broad, His chocolate eyes shifted to the shopkeeper, who was visibly distressed by the unfolding events. The conversation quickly turned to the matter of an Acromantula—now alarmingly loose in Diagon Alley. Antonio's cheer dimmed into concern at the thought of the creature, likely terrified and in desperate search of refuge amidst the bustling alleyway.

It'll be skittering about, likely somewhere dark. He thought to himself, before Jesper's words broke through his train of thought.

“Sorry, Sir, just one quick question from me: When you say ‘small’, just how.. ‘small’ are we talking?” From the look on his face and the nervous laugh that escaped from his lips, Antonio figured he was not as big of a fan of furry many legged creatures as himself.

The shopkeeper, looking somewhat apologetic yet earnest, responded ,"About the size of an average house cat. But, it is too young for its venom to be deadly! Just... painful." He nervously wrung his hands, "Normally, the obvious place to look for an Acromantula would be somewhere dark, or a forest. This one, Henry by name, has a particular fondness for pumpkin pasties. I'd wager his nose is leading him straight to Sugarplum's Sweet Shop as we speak."

At this, Antonio's demeanor shifted from concern to a kind of gleeful anticipation. Clapping his hands together, he exclaimed, "A male! Ah, see children? It won't even be that big, hardly a challenge." His eyes drifted to the crumbs, still many, on his shirt from his earlier indulgence, a smile playing at his lips as he realized his appetite might just be the key to luring the young Acromantula back to safety.

With a flourish only he could muster, Antonio raised his hand, signaling the start of their mini rescue mission. His voice filled with enthusiasm was loud and passionate, "¡Vamos! To help our new little friends." His shout, louder and more spirited than anyone else's could have been, echoed down Diagon Alley, turning heads and stirring curiosity among the passersby, either embarrassing or amusing his younger companions before they set off.

As the trio navigated their way through Diagon Alley towards Sugarplum's Sweet Shop, their journey was peppered with Antonio's enthusiastic mini lesson on Acromantulas. He delved into vivid descriptions of their potential size, casually mentioning that the eggs of such creatures were larger than a Quaffle, (likely to their horror) closer to the size of a beach ball. This revelation naturally segued into a tangent about Muggle sports, with Antonio exhibiting an oddly impressive knowledge of beach volleyball and a memorable summer he had in Tulum, before whatever memory that came with it caused his cheeks to flush in embarrassment and a prompt end to the conversation.

Reaching the shop, the trio would immediately be enveloped by the rich, tantalizing aromas that wafted around the building. The scent of freshly baked pastries mingled with the sugary candyfloss, while hints of chocolate and caramel danced through the air. The smells were so overwhelmingly delightful that Antonio's stomach couldn't help but rumble in hungry anticipation. He opened his mouth to comment on the exquisite smells, perhaps to share a childhood memory or a favorite treat, but before he could utter a word, the moment was shattered by a high-pitched scream.

In an instant, a witch, appearing to be around Antonio's age, came barreling out of the door, colliding with him in a flurry of panic. The impact sent a ripple of surprise through Antonio, who managed to catch the witch in his arms, steadying her before she could fall.

"Don't go in there, there's a bloody monster scuttling about!" She hissed, wrangling herself away from the three of them and running far away from the scene.

More screams pierced the air, each one sending a jolt of concern through Antonio. He winced, not out of fear, but sympathy for the anxiety Henry must be feeling. Collecting himself, he waited for more people to file out the door before he ventured inside. Tucked behind the register, was an aging bald man whose skin had turned a nearly deathly white. He simply lifted a shaking finger up, pointing towards the ceiling before ducking behind the register again. The source of the commotion became easily apparent the minute his eyes adjusted to the darker atmosphere. Perched in the corner of the ceiling was indeed, an Acromantula, quite young - its eyes gleaming. It sat like a gargoyle, observing the chaos it had caused with an almost playful interest.

Antonio slipped his wand out of his pocket as the last of the shop's patrons finally left, their faces a mix of terror and disbelief. He turned to Jesper and Atlas, "Keep on the door," he instructed, motioning towards the exit with a nod. "Best not to let anyone in."

Gently, he approached the creature.

"It was a bit loud earlier, no? All the yelling and drama,. " Antonio explained, nodding his head. "You only came for a treat. They overreacted. " The spider, while remaining silent, did click his pincers in a suspicious way that almost looked like he was in agreement. It was rather theatrical, although....growing bigger in size they did find human flesh to be rather delicious so he couldn't blame them entirely.

"I'm sure you don't want to be in this sort of place, where people scream when they see you." Antonio continued, shrugging his shoulders. The spider clicked his little fangs, tilting his head.

Antonio turned to tap his wand on the counter. "One pumpkin pasty. Quick as you can." The man gazed up at him, blinking with utter confusion as to why this man could possibly feel like eating at a time like this.

The spider tittered again, almost argumentative before Antonio sighed. "Two. Two pumpkin pasties. Greedy little thing." The spider scuttled down the wall slowly, stopping short of them as if he was waiting to see if he would really receive a treat.

As he waited for the man to produce the baked goods, he simply turned towards the boys with an enthusiastic smile and asked "So, who wants to feed him?"












MOOD

relieved



OUTFIT

here






LOCATION

Sugarplum's-




TAGS

Pandaroo Pandaroo sunny.days sunny.days













coded by xayah.ღ
 



slytherin





NOÉMIE LESTRANGE.




































human
















location

the daily prophet










interactions

medea, ursula, quinn
















"Thank you all for your participation so far... You're all students, so why don't we discuss how this affects your time at Hogwarts." Grace peers over at her quill, nodding in approval. "Do you feel Headmaster Dippet and your professors are, in your opinion, adequately addressing these wars?"

Noémie clasps her hands in her lap and answers,
"Officially, no. Some professors are open to private discussion."
She rolls her eyes.
"Our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor speaks in hypotheticals. I suppose that's better than nothing, but hardly the direct approach we should be receiving. A threat is still a threat regardless if we are students."


For some odd reason, a creeping blush spreads across Medea's cheeks even before she speaks. Noémie notes this in amusement. "Professor Thorne's a realistic, much like I consider myself. He doesn't mention it directly during class time, since that would be a distraction from our learning process, but he has offered information when we've asked. I think that's quite practical of him. " She ends her answer with a polite nod, though her cheeks remained flushed and she sits rather upright, as if she'd be content continuing to acknowledge Professor Thorne's teaching ability.

Ah, so that was it.

Ursula racks her brain, perusing through from the more incompetent professors, to the somewhat intelligent before she lands on an answer. "Professor Greengrass has the right of things. She teaches what she's paid to teach." She sends a smile Medea's way that ends up being more mocking than kind. "I'm sure Headmaster Dippet also has our...best interests at heart."

Noémie smirks. Although she and Ursula have a strained relationship at times, she can admit her darling friend always knows how to speak her mind.

Quinn's head tilts from side to side while he racks his brain for any moments related to knowledge on the war. "I mean, based on some of these responses, it's pretty damn clear that it's not being spoken about enough for people to even fake a drop of empathy. Certain professors are more likely to speak on the subject when directly asked while others try to keep hush about it most of the time." He makes a point of making eye contact with everyone present in the room while he speaks. "As far as Headmaster Dippet, I think his heart's in the right place but it feels a little wonky. It's like a parent telling their kids that it's the boogie man outside when there's actually a dangerous human wandering the neighborhood attacking people. He makes sure we feel safe but never fully aware of the severity of the war."

"Perhaps it's his age. The man probably still thinks we're off fighting a war in the New World for good old King George."











 



Ravenclaw.





Poppy Lovelear.



































Chemtrails over...
















location

Leaky Cauldron






outfit

she has clothes on!






interactions

leaky cauldron patrons

















Poppy hummed to herself, her eyes scanning the list of items she needed to get. Having tackled the bulk, of which were various textbooks, earlier in the day. She had managed to get a decent deal on a new cauldron before they sold out. Finding all items accounted for, Poppy crinkled the parchment, shoving it into the small bag on her side. Earlier in the day, she had gotten to the quidditch shop and put her name on the waitlist for the newest broom. Poppy couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips. She might have enough time to make it to the Leaky Cauldron before the meet and greet was over.

If she thought the streets of Diagon Alley were crowded, the Leaky Cauldron was a whole other nightmare. Standing on her toes, Poppy tried to peer over the crowd. She frowned, her stature keeping her from seeing much. The meet and greet wasn't over, but her place in line was less than ideal. She'd be lucky if they didn't turn her away before she got halfway to the players.

Poppy craned her head to the side at the sound of applause. Was there some sort of show going on? A few whispers to her right clued her in on enough. Skepticism shone on her features, a squib doing magic? That was counterintuitive. Poppy watched as he levitated a volunteer, before dropping him back to the table.

Getting a better look at the volunteer, Poppy recognized him from Hogwarts. While the two hadn't interacted much, she had scrimmed and played against him enough time on the Quidditch pitch to know his name was Markus.

Poppy joins the crowd in applause. Was this man truly a squib, maybe it had been a mistake- Movement halts Poppy's train of thought, was she going mad, or was something creeping out of the squib's pocket?

Her eyes squint, there certainly was something there, 'was that a Calbbert?' Quickly it slips its hand into Markus' pocket, causing Poppy's eyes to widen, with a flash of red the Calbbert drops back into the showman's pocket.

"Hey!"
Poppy yelled, stepping out of the line, a finger pointed accusingly at Maurice. As eyes turned to her, she felt her eyes widen, having not quite thought through her sudden exclamation. Poppy lowered her arm and cleared her throat. Willing away the red that threatened to spread across her face.
"I don't think he would have agreed to participate had he known you were going to rob him."


Maurice turned sharply, eyes darting to Poppy.
"Rob him?! What an accusation! Miss, I assure you, I am just a humble magician..."


Pen moved forward, pushing past a few people in the crowd and throwing a rather threatening look at the magician.
"Robbing people? You better pray she's wrong, mate."
She took a moment to look at the girl who spoke, not immediately recognizing her. She definitely wasn't in their house.

Poppy turns to the girl,
"I swear, he's hiding a sneaky little Calbbert in his pocket."











[/div]
 








SAIRA SHAFIQ




MOOD: content
LOCATION: flat.
OUTFIT: here.
TAGS: @
MENTIONS: silas, everyone in the group.
She clasped her hands excitedly at the idea of a new adventure. Quickly she gathered her belongings and followed next to the group. A small voice in the back of her head voiced its concern of bringing along students, but she quickly smothered it. Between Sophia and herself, she wasn’t worried about the prospect of danger.

She eyed the owl perched on Vijay’s shoulder before turning her attention to Sugarplum’s Sweet’s Shop. Her mouth watered and she hesitated at the glass window. Her eyes widened and she pressed up close to the glass window. “Afterwards we should stop in.” She said as followed behind the students as Sophia led the way.

As Sophia climbed the last step, Saira caught her eye and she smiled reassuringly. The sudden feeling of anticipation swept throughout her body and she stilled as the sounds of life came from behind the door. When the door opened, she drank in the weathered face of the old wizard.

His face reminded her of a wrinkled dried-up toad, the overwhelming urge to squeeze his cheeks together felt impossible to ignore. Saira spoke up first “Good evening! We had an unexpected visitor crash into our tea party,” she cut her eyes at the owl who ruffled his feather in response. “He very demanded we bring him to your doorstep,” she gestured to the owl.

"Harold, is that you down there? With my package?"

The man seemed to have forgotten about the group as she spoke with the owl. Saira’s ears perked up at the sound of a treat and she shuffled from side to side. “Do you just live above Sugarplum’s? Or do you own the store?” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and smiled happily at the old man.

"Erm, are you lot delivering as well? That's how the Muggles do it, I believe..."

Her smile faltered and she looked at Sophia before scanning the faces of the students. “Uh, I-” Saira hesitated in her words before again looking to Sophia. “Well no, we just came to help the owl.” She continued “Did you need us to deliver something for you?”


code by low fidelity.
 



charms





charles harrington.




































first light
















location

cobb and webb's






outfit







interactions

celeste
















“We should take a look at that, right?”

Charles looks down at Celeste and nods, offering her the hundredth apologetic smile already today.
"My apologies, Celeste. I know this isn't an ideal situation."
He pauses and sighs.
"But I would rather be safe than sorry. I am happy to take the lead on this one, and feel confident knowing I have you backing me up~"


The Charms professor leads the way, ducking his head in hopes he will not be seen over the wall. The backside of the store is only a short distance away. Quickly enough, the brick gives way to a metal entry gate and Charles stops there to listen. He hears soft murmurs and strains to understand what the voices are saying.

"You bring this into the castle-" A man's voice says. "Do it, boy, and you'll-" Charles silently curses to himself. What are they saying. "Grindelwald-"

Charles scowls, deciding he has heard enough. Nothing to do with Grindelwald was worth not intervening. He signals to Celeste that he intends to reveal himself. Charles pulls out his wand and points to the gate.
"Alohomora."
He bursts through the gate the moment the lock clicks open and raises his wand to point at the taller man he recognizes from earlier. He holds a peculiar black box in his hands. The boy stands next to him, alone and without his mother.

"Step away from the child, or we'll have Aurors here in an instant,"
Charles threatens, eyes softening as they flicker to the boy.
"Do not worry, boy. We'll have you back with your mum in just a moment."


The tall man snarles, "Who da bloody 'ell are you?!"

"Professor of Charms at Hogwarts. This boy will soon be my student, and is under my responsibility,"
Charles roars in response.
"I suggest you do as I said. You know as well as I do that Aurors are swarming Diagon Alley and would jump at the opportunity to raid your store."


"Oi! Yer threatin' me, and I don't let nobody do that!" The wizard shoves the boy side and swiftly reaches for his own wand. "Stupefy!"

"Celeste, the boy!"
He calls out, and within the same breath he casts,
"Protego!"
His spell is blocked by Charles' charm with ease. He raises his wand for another, no longer interested in diplomacy now that the boy was out of the man's reach.
"Incarcerous!"


A thick rope is conjured out of thin air, ensnaring the man's ankles and causing him to fall forward onto his face. Charles hurries to his side and kicks the man's wand from his reach.
"This really did not need to happen. Is the boy okay?"


The boy sniffs, clearly holding back tears, and says, "I-I'm okay!"










 



hufflepuff





vijay prakash.




































miracle
















location

post office






outfit







interactions

ophelia, sophia, saira, harold
















The journey to the actual address listed on the owl’s package wound up being a lot quicker than Vijay had expected. Professor Allegro kept both him and Ophelia entertained with stories about the lessons she’d be covering this year with also a few prompt reminders that he’d have to hear them all now instead of later considering he had ditched the class. It wasn’t anything personal, but with all the visions of the future popping into his head the last thing he needed were lessons on the past as well - he just simply wanted to live now: in the present. Though he knew Professor Allegro held no ill will and that her comments were in jest… even if he did nervously laugh a few times at the thought that she might hold it against him.

Once they had arrived Professor Allegro took the initiative to ring the doorbell, his eyes easily catching the slight tension in her posture as she slipped her hand in her coat pocket, the same pocket he had noted in years past that she tended to store her wand. He was always observant, watching others to understand the situation at hand. Were they really in potential danger while in Diagon Alley? Then again, the more worn structure of the building they had arrived at left much to the imagination of who lurked behind the other side of the door.

To his surprise it was an elderly wizard, one who looked as old and worn as the owl perched on his shoulder. Professor Shafiq took the lead, explaining their unexpected guest to their tea time date and the package it had been clutching in its claws. The elderly man seemed a bit confused at first - not necessarily surprising given his apparent age - but as soon as he saw the owl perched on Vijay’s shoulder he seemed to gain an immediate understanding of the situation - other than assuming that they were there to drop off the package and take his return letter back to the post office. Professor Shafiq did ask in return if he needed any help delivering something and, given the man’s older age and his resting wife inside, Vijay had no intention of declining to help the old man with his request.

”C’mon Harold, I think there’s a treat waiting for you up here for a job well done…”
he whispered over to the formerly cantankerous owl, carefully working his way up to the door without disturbing the owl nestled on his shoulder as he leaned forward as requested. The elderly wizard held out a porcelain plate of sardines, the stench not something Vijay himself was particularly fond of, but definitely one that the owl seemed to enjoy as he began to gulp down the small fish without an issue. He had forgotten out loud birds could be when eating something whole, though perhaps he had never had one resting right next to his ear in the process.

”It’s not a problem sir, we’d be more than happy to accompany Harold back to the office - I think by the time we get there we’ll have made a new friend in each other in the process,”
he offered with a smile, holding out the package for the man to take while receiving the letter and holding it up for Harold to protect as he was sure the owl would want to.
”It’s definitely not good if they’re overworking these poor owls - they already work hard enough as is, I agree,”
he added, hoping to ease the man’s mind that the owl would be well taken care of.
”We’ll deliver this right away - thank you sir, have a great rest of your day!”


Once the man had made his way back inside he turned to the rest of the group, giving them a half hearted smile after he had volunteered their efforts.
”I suppose we have the rest of this adventure to finish together - we all did lose our tea for this after all,”
he offered, giving a bit of a laugh as he made his way back down the steps. Truth be told, the quick little side quest during his shopping day was a good way to keep his mind off the crowds - and off the rest of the dream that had kept him up the night before. The owl had appeared right at the end, crashing down and awakening him from his slumber, but what about the eagle and the snake beforehand? The thoughts kept creeping back into his mind now that they were in a lull again on their way to the post office, one of the few places Vijay had journeyed to multiple times before while in Diagon Alley.

By the time he could actually see the post office in the distance he had managed to pull himself from his daydream, glancing over at the owl on his shoulder.
”Harold look, the post office is up ahead! Almost done with your job for the day,”
he offered his new feathered friend, thinking about the vision of him crashing down in his dream once more.
”Say, we’re friends now right? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about an eagle or a snake, would you? There wasn’t an eagle or a snake in that package we dropped off earlier was there?”
he asked, half expecting to be pecked in the side of the head for inquiring about the contents of the package once again.

The owl’s feathers ruffled in displeasure, but there was no clear indication as to why. He leaned his head down and squawked in response to his question, leaving Vijay more bewildered than anything.
”Right… Maybe I just look a little crazy right now…”
He muttered between himself and Harold, glancing back at the rest of the group following behind him. As they approached the front of the post office Harold’s feathers ruffled further. He quickly hopped and flapped his wings to latch himself onto Vijay’s curls instead, the hufflepuff’s body tensing up a bit in surprise as he froze in place.
”Uuuh, Ophelia, you mind getting the door for me? I’m afraid he might try and fly off with me if I startle him too much,”
he said only half jokingly, stepping up to the door to allow his friend to lead the way in.
”I do appreciate the time we’ve had together though Harold, even if you are clamped to the top of my head… If we see each other around sometime again I’ll make sure to find a sardine just for you, yeah?”
he offered, trying to glance up to see the owl above him with no luck.










 



gryffindor.





briar layton.















There were very few times in Briar’s life that she had been rendered speechless, but the series of events that had just unfolded in front of her left the girl floundering, and more importantly, patting down her pockets where her coin had been, in her mind, safely stashed away.

Tucked there by her overly worried father, who always warned of con men and thieves in Diagon Alley’s many dark corners, warnings that she had fobbed off his overprotective and slightly neurotic nature coming into play, she was glad to know her father was not fully at his wits end yet.

Of course she would never tell her father about this; the anticipation alone of the lecture she would get on safety and personal awareness making her eye twitch.

Maurice's demeanor seems to change in an instant. Rather than the happy, upbeat magician he has been for the last half hour, he deflates into an irritable man. "Ridiculous. It always ends up being something." He waves a dismissive hand at Poppy and Pen. "Congratulations, you caught me. But you won't get your money back. I assure you of that." Crack. Maurice apparates away. It would seem he was never a Squib at all. Markus, Briar, and Pen are all a few coins short and with no way to retrieve their money.

“I cannot believe I was just robbed by a fellow named Maurice in a terrible hat, that somehow makes it more offensive.” Briar shook her head, voice incredulous as she watched the spot where he had apparated away from. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance and disbelief. “And I’ve never seen a clabbert up close; it would’ve been interesting if the little bugger hadn’t robbed my butterbeer money.”

Before Briar could continue her tirade of complaints that were certain to rare up into a fully blown rant when, a concerned woman approaches the group. She is wearing a bright orange dress, the Chudley Cannon's signature color, but has a professional air about her. "Did I just hear that you children were robbed?" She asks with a frown. "I'm sorry to hear about that. The last thing the team wants is for their fans to be getting robbed while they wait to meet them, I'm sure. Why don't you four... just give me a moment, alright?" The woman turns and hurries away from the line. A strained look can tell any of them that she walks over to The Leaky Cauldron's side door and pops her head inside.

Less than a minute later, the woman is returning to them. "My name is Esme Ross. You may or may not have heard of me, but I am one of the managers of the team," she says to the group in a hushed whisper. "I spoke with my colleages. We want to sneak you four in through the side door to meet the team. As sorry for not providing enough security for the event, it seems. What do you say?"

Briar felt almost unqualified to answer the question; admittedly, she wasn’t the most avid quidditch fan, but it came with the territory of calling Markus and Pen friends, so she had learned to not dislike the sport. And the Cannon’s themselves had become a hard-to-avoid staple of her life. Eagerly supported by her cousins and even her father, who would smile wistfully to himself as Briar sat by his bed reading him the sports section of The Daily Prophet,.

The woman’s attention fell to Briar, who found herself nodding with probably a little more enthusiasm than she felt in reality, the excitement for her friends, and the girl she had only just managed to place as a member of the Ravenclaw team, making her head bob. What she would really like would be her money back, but the look on her family’s faces when she told them might be enough to make up for the lost pocket change.

“I think that would certainly rectify all this, hm?” Briar made it sound like a question to the group as her gaze flickered to them, eyebrows raised and lips curled into a discreet smile, but by the time she had fully turned around, she was already following the woman back through the crowd, fiddling with her hair as she walked with a newfound buoyancy, suddenly wishing she had time to reapply her lipstick.











 



astronomy.





silas thorne.



































as it was
















location

Cobb's & Webb's






outfit

super cool clothes






interactions

Sebastian & The Woman






tags













"You mentioned needing two of them, but I'm only seeing one..." Carrow's realization only made Silas's brow furrow, his blue eyes quickly scanning the area to confirm Sebastian's claim.

He was right. The woman's son was nowhere to be found. All the more reason to get this woman to safety as quickly as possible. "Look here, miss...Ain't it a lovely thing?" The sound of one of the shady wizards from earlier willed him to pay attention, eyes still glued to the shelves in mock interest. "Sure yer 'usband would appreciate seein' it 'round yer pretty neck..." The sleazy comment prompted the Professor to glance over to watch the shorter Wizard, who was now grinning at the woman, showing off his two golden teeth. "Now, 'ere. Let me put it on ya."

The woman cringes, shying away from the man before speaking up, "I-I'm not interested, my son and I have other shopping to do... Carter! Come back, please!"

Surely, that was enough. Silas dropped the theatrics, and simply made his way over to the pair. His right hand was now armed with his wand, and his left reached out to not-so-politely shove the Wizard away from her.

"Alright, you've had your fun, but the lady isn't interested in your cursed jewelry. It's time for you to scram." Silas wasn't expecting this to bode well, but it gave the woman some time to get away from this... whatever he was. Was it a bit aggressive? Possibly. But he couldn't stand for this any longer.

The short, scrappy wizard bit back, "I don't know who tha' hell you think you are, mate, but I ain't done here 'til I say so." Silas rolled his eyes, unamused by the man in front of him.

Without another word, the much taller wizard quickly cast a spell, "Stupefy!" rendering the man unconscious. It was callous, and, a bit extreme, but the werewolf wanted to be spared of whatever else that sick man had to say. So, he hastily turned to speak to the woman.

"Apologies for the brutality, ma'am. My name is Silas Thorne. I am the Astrology Professor at Hogwarts," as he continued, he gestured over to Sebastian, "and this here is my colleague, Professor Sebastian Carrow. It is to my knowledge that your son will be under both mine and Sebastian's care, so it is best that we both get you out of here quickly and safely, yes?"

Before anyone could respond, the sound of faint yelling could be heard from the back of the store. Silas looked back over to his colleague, "Carrow, we need to meet with Celeste and Charles. They were outside keeping a lookout, but I'm afraid that the commotion might be them." He paused, looking over at the unconscious Wizard behind him,

"Plus, I don't think we'll be granted this privacy for much longer."










 
Ophelia.



Arriving at the designated address led to a new task for Ophelia and her companions: returning Harold, the owl whose name they had learned along the way, to the post office. She had to admit, she was a little sad their journey was coming to an end. She had been enjoying the conversations that had formed among the group. There was a certain charm in being part of a collective, especially one made up of such kind people.

Vijay was already such a dear friend to her, and she was impressed with Professor Shafiq and Allegro's handling of the situation. It was obvious why they were Hogwarts teachers.

As they reached the post office, Harold's desire to not part ways with Vijay was incredibly noticeable. "I think he's grown rather fond of you, or he doesn't want to go home," Ophelia observed, narrowing her eyes in concern at the bird as she held the door open for her friend. "Or perhaps a combination of both."

Inside, the reception they received was less than warm. A beady-eyed woman behind the counter, peering over her glasses with a an obvious frown, demanded to know why Harold was with them. Glancing around, Ophelia explained a bit of what had gone on, a blush forming on her cheeks as another interaction with a stranger took place, She explained the crash, the delivery, and their current delivery of bringing Harold back, but the woman just appeared more annoyed the longer she talked. Approaching Harold with a stern demeanor, she lectured the owl for being injured once again before efficiently casting a healing spell as Vijay had.

Harold's response to the charm was quiet, a soft hoo replacing any expected protest. As he tested his newly healed wing, the bird seemed less than delighted. The woman's announcement of returning Harold to the owlery made Ophelia tense up.

He was her natural predator, at least in her Animagus form. If she was scurrying about in the castle, she avoided the student and faculties owls like they were a plague. But she greatly disliked when anyone treated animals poorly. Even ones who would swallow her in a few bites.

Feeling a stir of discomfort at the woman's harsh reproach towards Harold, Ophelia did something entirely uncharacteristic of her. Perhaps it was only because she knew she had people along with her to defend her, but she spoke up. Her voice, usually soft and hesitant, carried a rather stern edge to it and her blush had all but vanished.

"He did his best," Ophelia stated firmly, her eyes locked on the woman's. "And you should be happy for him not being more severely injured. If he's prone to accidents, it's the fault of the owner, not the owl. If caring for him is such an inconvenience, I'd be more than happy to take him into my own home."

While she was quite proud of herself, she wondered how her father might react if she came home with another owl. But on the other hand, the bird was awfully fond of Vijay already. Perhaps she shouldn't have offered.

Group outings were truly something else.


mood: Being brave
interactions: death to birds death to birds comfortable comfortable OrpheusTalks OrpheusTalks
Post Office

© PASTA​
 














M e d e a



U
rsula's impatience was noticeable, her leg crossing and foot shaking with a rhythm that made it seem as if the interview was beneath her schedule. Her question was polite, but the impatience behind it made Medea want to roll her eyes.

Grace turned her gaze to Ursula and gestured toward the door. "You are welcome to step out at any time," she answered, "We have two questions remaining, but I certainly don't mean to keep you here against your will." Grace smiled and continued on, "Am I correct in assuming you are all seventh years? Or sixth years, at the youngest. Do you feel that Grindelwald's war will affect your future after Hogwarts? Your career prospects? Merlin, even your travel plans! Much of Europe is not in an ideal position for tourism, at the moment."

From the polite tone and the no nonsense attitude, Medea found herself growing more appreciative of the reporter. A tiny smirk stayed glued to her face as she listened to the others give their answers.

Noémie frowned. "His war has impacted the economy and job market to some degree, as I understand it. My intentions are to study under a potions master after graduation before pursuing my career. I don't expect there to be any impacts." She paused, unsure of whether she should continue. "I did have thoughts on visiting France, but I will likely put a pin in that for now. Given the circumstances."

She could feel a pull towards Noemie. There was a sense of sadness there for whatever laid in France inside of her answer. She chided herself silently, to keep her leglimens under a tighter leash.

"As someone that has plans to focus on magical beasts after, I could see it becoming problematic if the more dangerous creatures were weaponized for this war. Not to mention the overall damage to their natural habits that might result from being in the crossfire." Quinn shrugged his shoulders, "Not much would affect my travel plans seeing as how I mainly stick to the U.S. when I'm not at Hogwarts. Europe has its own problem outside of the war such as the declining economy, suffering population, and general levels of unease that remain consistent."

She nodded thoughtfully. She could see Professor Antonio feeling similarly. He was probably quite distraught thinking of all the animals, magical and alike that were harmed or soon to be.

"I plan to work well within the Ministry," she answered when it came her turn, " so..I would hope we would still have a functioning government. " She blinked rather seriously behind the glasses. "As for traveling, I rarely have the time anyways." It was a lie. She was rarely allowed. She was grateful she had set a reasonable time for her to manage her errands even today, or a beating surely would have awaited her. Her father loathed tardiness.

Instinctively she moved to adjust the sleeves on her dress. As pale as she was, any bruise was often as easy to see on her flesh. Both parent and child often made sure everything would be well hidden come time for term to begin. Spells would be cast of the healing variety and it would be as though the lessons learned in summer had never come to pass.

Her time at Hogwarts could not come quickly enough.














MOOD

somber



OUTFIT

here






LOCATION

Daily Prophet




TAGS

cwosont cwosont Shadow Alpha Shadow Alpha @stareintotheabyss













coded by xayah.ღ
 






keaton.










































































  • mood






    is cursing a man in broad daylight considered a crime

































Keaton pushed his way back through the stampeding crowd towards the sound of the explosion all the while holding on as tightly to Rose's hand as possible to prevent them from being separated. He had made the decision to throw them back into danger; the least he could do was make sure she was safe. He owed her that much.

As they made it through the smoke and people the duo were met with the sight of a visibly upset witch with a broken wand at her feet. Before Keaton could comfort her spotted who he believed to be the culprit fleeing the scene. Without saying a word he dashed off.

The woman was safe. Rose was safe. He'd catch the culprit and they could put this messy business behind them were the only things on his mind as he zipped through the stragglers and debris and the occasional spell. Who could possibly be so reckless to cast spells in this situation?

His question was answered almost immediately as something slammed right into him at full speed knocking him off his feet. He had to credit his quidditch training for teaching him how to protect himself during a fall. The person who collided into him on the other hand, didn't fare so well. The number of insults sent his way made that very clear. Not that he cared once the realization of how it was dawned on him.

Thanking Rose for helping him back to his feet he had to admit he found it amusing to listen to her berate him.

“It's part of my charm.” Keaton shrugged as he fought to keep the grin that tugged at his lips from forming. “But I'll take your disapproval under consideration.”

Admittedly he didn't think he was being any more impulsive than he normally was but then again his actions only ever really affected himself. Keaton made a mental note to apologize to Rose when they were less preoccupied and certain people weren't present. He was apologetic but he had a reputation to protect after all.

“If you're feeling better now Malfoy we can focus on wherever our thief scurried off to. It hasn't been that long since yo- we lost him so he couldn't have gotten far. We can split up and cover more ground.

After searching for what felt like forever Keaton had stumbled upon a man that looked almost eerily similar to their thief but as he got closer he saw that despite some similarities it was the same person… even if he did just so happen to be carrying what he suspected was the missing purse.

“Yo- you seem to recognize this. S-some random bloke threw it at me before he ran off in that direction.” The man pointed behind him further into Diagon Alley.

Keaton turned to his compatriots. “Ready to catch a purse snatcher?”



































































cry for love






백현




















♡coded by uxie♡
 

**MAGICAL MENAGERIE**
With the Acromantula taken care of, the group must still locate a handful of Bowtruckles, a pair of Kneazle, and Niffler. The group decides to venture around and keep their eyes peeled. They arrive at Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop after a few minutes of walking and peer inside to see a massive, furry cat pawing at a Dungbomb as if it were a toy. An employee at the joke shop appears to be trying to grab the Dungbomb, or the Kneazle, but is swiftly swatted away. The other Kneazle is nowhere to be seen.

An unexpected presence, however, is Professor Salman.
Click to expand...
~​
Gambol and Japes was filled with munchkins. Not firsties, if their guess was right, but two likely second years had obviously dared themselves to enter and were looking around wide eyed. Two troublemakers they’d taken note of last year were stocking up for more mischief. Leor smiled, looking forward to what the pair came up with. They’d have to sneak a few more points to the kids if the prank was particularly inspired.

Last year, they’d been conservative, by their standards at least. To be frank, they hadn’t wanted to lose the job that the tarot implied was the best path for her. They hadn’t really added to the chaos that was Hogwarts (beyond what Ruth got into, their familiar was truly like them.) While they had quietly encouraged some of the students, that was harmless.

This year, Leor had proven they could do the job. Most of their students even passed their OWLs or NEWTs. (They were so proud of their kiddos.) Now, they realized Dippet hadn’t had any other options. They hadn’t even done that great on their own Divination NEWT. The old man was senile, but surely if he had a better option, he’d have taken it.

More secure in their job, they figured some small things wouldn’t hurt. As long as they didn’t destroy something important, they’d likely be fine. If anything, coming here was proving to be beneficial in figuring out who the troublemakers might be in the future. Even the one sixth year in their class didn’t recognize them. They looked entirely different with their curly red hair down to their shoulders. Plus how femme they currently were. It sucked. The knowledge that only those who had seen them in this form would know them. But they refused to change. This was how their body felt this morning. They’d kept the curly hair from the staff meetings, so their colleagues would recognize them. That was something.

Turning a corner, they saw the shopkeeper, but more importantly a huge beast of fluff. With the pointed ears and flared tail, Leor instantly recognized a kneazle. If it wasn’t purebred, it certainly had enough to understand them. Walking over, they ignored the swatted man and focused on the kneazle. “You know,” they spoke conversationally, in the same voice they used on students--which worked better on them than Ruth. “Your sense of smell is at least ten times greater than mine. It’s called a dungbomb for a reason. And unless it’s changed in the past few years, Mr. Japes’ are particularly pungent.”

The Kneazle placed its paw on the dungbomb and quietly observed Leor. Its gaze was intense, as if it was peering into something more than just their eyes. It took a step forward and leaned in to sniff the air surrounding Leor.

The Kneazle slinked back and let out a seemingly reluctant *mrow*. It pawed at the dungbomb and pushed it towards Leor. Then, it promptly darted away into the back of the store.

Leor scrambled to catch the offending object before it rolled off the table, elbowing Mr. Japes in the process. “I’d be sorry, but I think you’d prefer this outcome to letting it fall.” Handing the dungbomb over to the man, they added, “I certainly do.” Turning to face where the kneazle left, some backroom apparently, they couldn’t help but ask, “When did you get a kneazle?”

Turning automatically at the chime as the door opened, they were surprised to see their colleague. Face brightening, they waved, speaking loud enough to be heard, “Not a face I expected to see, but hello, Antonio.” They ignored the moment’s worry that he might not recognize them. Their hair was practically the same, and their voice rarely changed. Perhaps friends was too bold a label, but they certainly were amicable.

Incredibly bouncy and lively red hair was the first thing he saw, and he immediately knew who it belonged to. A smile stretched over his tanned face and he let out an equally excited greeting in return. "Leor," he stated, used to saying their name with some familiarity, " I wish I could drone about how summer has gone for me, but I'm in the middle of.." he paused, and he took in the scene.

"Oh! Are you helping capture our slippery friends as well?"

It took Leor a moment to understand, but when they did, they threw their head back in laughter, their curls seeming to dance from amusement. “How did you lose a kneazle?” Then they looked behind him, and guessed, “Is this young man helping you?”

He had let out a small snort of laughter. “ No, not quite one of mine. We’re helping a distraught man at the moment.” He raised his eyebrows playfully. “You just missed it; one of our students helped me wrangle an acromantula .” He seemed quite pleased still with the lad. “I’d give points if the school year had begun.”

More intrigued, they gave the skinny boy a second glance. They’d immediately known he was not in one of her classes, so they didn’t bother looking any more professional. The teenager wasn’t looking too cocky over their accomplishment, something they’d admittedly would have had a right to, so Leor was willing to peg them as a Hufflepuff. “Proving ‘Puffs can befriend anything, huh?”

They left Mr. Japes to gape toward the storeroom. There wasn’t any fire yet, so the kneazle wasn’t making too much trouble. The shifting part oher thought this store could do with an advertisement of fireworks blasting from its windows. They went over to the pair and offered their hand, “Always pleased to meet a fellow badger. I’m Leor.”

Then turning to look at the even taller man, they guessed, “It’s with you still isn’t it? Will a kneazle be willing to be near one?”

Antonio patted his coat pocket reassuringly at Leor's question. Inside, the Acromantula was perfectly contained in a small cardboard box usually reserved for pastries. While not entirely pleased at the Reducio spell used on it, there was no sign of aggression from within.

"Unlikely to be an issue. It's much smaller now, I'm almost certain the Kneazle would be more of the predator in this instance." His eyes glanced back towards the backroom . "Shall we head to it then? I'm eager to ensure their safety."

It was sweet of Antonio to refer to the kneazle as a them instead of an it. Even if it was just for their comfort, they appreciated it. Spinning on their heel, they headed further back into the store. Mr. Japes’ patience seemed to be thinned to breaking, so Leor stepped to the side, letting the other professor and student to pass, while blocking the shopkeeper. “We both saw how effect you were. Let the experts work.” If you could work in a dragon sanctuary with just a NEWT, you can rescue a kneazle a year shy. She wasn’t stupid enough to say it’d be easy compared to an acromantula. Kneazles were often instruments of chaos if they didn’t have a goal in mind.

sunny.days sunny.days ghostlynarcissus ghostlynarcissus
Thanks to cwosont cwosont and ghostlynarcissus ghostlynarcissus for writing segments of this piece (italics.)​
 
Last edited:













  • XI.
    the Tawny Owl





    Sophia
    mood
    persuasive

    location
    Post Office

    interactions
    Saira, Ophelia, Vijay

    tags
    death to birds death to birds thehighpriestess thehighpriestess comfortable comfortable





designed by bad ending & coded by xayah.ღ
 














A n t o n i o



I
t hadn't taken too much to convince the Kneazles to return. A few kind words and compliments along with some reassurance and they had eventually come to the smartest decision of returning home.

"Just the Niffler and Bowtruckle left, " he remarked tiredly, glancing down at the rather worn silver watch that hung about his wrist. It had been awhile since they began their capture of the other creatures, he hoped they hadn't gone too far.

As if an answer to his small prayers, the group could hear the sounds of commotion leading Antonio to walk out of the building rather quickly.

"Get that thing!"
"He stole my galleons!"
"My wedding ring!"
"Wait, where did he go?!"

Several voices fill the street, and by the sounds of it a rather greedy little klepto of a creature was not too far. "Vamos! Jesper. " He glanced at Theor as well, grinning ear to ear. "You too, my colleague. There are more mischievous furballs to collect." He brushed past the small crowd forming, glancing around to see which shop the creature possibly could have gone off too.

His eyes scanned quickly until he spotted a bundle of cuteness and mischief in the window of a porcelain dinnerware shop, its small and gleeful eyes were fixated on the glittering array of treasures within.

"Inside!" He alerted the two, pulling his wand out once again and darting past a few people to gain entrance.

The porcelain dinnerware shop into which the Niffler had made its way into was the epitome of luxury. Needless to say, Antonio had never ventured inside before despite many trips past it. Every inch of the interior screamed expensive, and he doubted he could have even afforded a napkin.

The shop was meticulously organized, with row upon row of shelves and display cases presenting an array of dinnerware that could only be described as art.

Delicate, expensive, and fragile art.

The Niffler squeaked excitedly, rubbing it's hand around a rather shiny salad fork seemingly quite content in the window still. A blond and petite sales woman approached the group, eyeing their less than impressive outfits and the sweaty sheen on Antonio's face with obvious distaste.

"Can I help you with something?" She asked, her eyes looking over a pair of wide rimmed glasses.

Antonio didn't dare take his gaze off the creature, who had successfully stashed the fork inside its tiny, yet deep pouch and was already looking for something else.

"Shiny. Something incredibly shiny " he pleaded, and the woman gave a look of confusion. Her eyes followed his and she let out a rather sharp scream of surprise when she noticed the creature.

The Niffler jumped in shock, skittering back and hitting a small glass cake stand. It wobbled for a moment and Antonio held his breath before it tipped back, shattering into several pieces.

The woman wailed. "That was from France! It's 340 galleons!" The Niffler scuttled about, likely more frightened by the woman's loud tone than anything else.

Wordlessly, Antonio waved his wand and cast a spell. Her mouth continued opening and closing as if speaking, but no sound emerged. "Lo siento ," Antonio gave a quick apology, "nothing too serious, just a Silencing charm. He'll cause even more damage if you keep shouting." Perhaps he could have shot a spell towards the Niffler instead, but he was rather grateful for an end to the screaming himself. She just didn't need to know that.

He glanced around, his eyes settling on a gold napkin ring nearby adorned with a rather bright green gemstone. He picked it up, before clicking his tongue at the Niffler. The creature made a chittering sound, looking at Antonio and the shiny trinket in his hands.

Knowing the Niffler's insatiable greed for anything shiny, he slowly lowered the gold napkin ring with down to the floor, taking a few steps back himself. The escapee glanced at the trinket and the door, as if contemplating what to do but thankfully it's inner nature came through. It sprang forward, grabbing at the ring but Antonio was just a bit quicker.
He reached out swiftly, his hand darting forward to secure the Niffler by the scruff. It took the beast by surprise, its small body going taut with shock as Antonio gently but firmly lifted it from the ground.

"You're alright, I won't hurt you, " he assured him. His scruff was quite tough and the motion wouldn't have harmed him in the slightest.

With a practiced motion, Antonio flipped the Niffler over and gently, exposing its belly and the magically expanded pouch that had been the creature's personal treasury,dumped the contents. The moment he did, a treasure trove began to spill out onto the floor with and the room filled with the sounds of clinks, clatters, and thuds. Forks, spoons, rings, an assortment of galleons, and even a pair of eyeglasses—now sadly destroyed—poured out in a continuous stream, revealing the extent of the Niffler's pilfering spree.

The sound of the items hitting the floor echoed through the shop, drawing silent gasps and wide-eyed stares from those watching. With his free hand he removed the silencing charm now that the creature was safely in hand.

"Contact the Magical Menagerie for compensation." He glanced down at the Niffler, shaking his head in amusement.












MOOD

Tired



OUTFIT

here






LOCATION

Dinnerware Shop




TAGS

Pandaroo Pandaroo sunny.days sunny.days













coded by xayah.ღ
 
















scroll me!







mood
Ready to finish the hellish chore that is shopping




Tags
cwosont cwosont ghostlynarcissus ghostlynarcissus @stareintotheabyss











Quinn Kingston

Location - The Daily Prophet









Grace's responses earned Quinn's personal seal of approval. It was nice to see a reporter of the magical kind that was also able to know when an answer was out of line or clearly coming from a less than accepting source. He was honestly growing tired with the continuous questioning, which was saying a lot for Quinn since he was known as a chatterbox around Hogwarts.

Grace nodded. "Thank you all for taking the time to answer my questions," she offered with a genuine smile. "My final question is more for me, and The Daily Prophet, so we can reflect on what we are offering to our readers. Are you satisfied with our coverage of current events? Do you feel that there is more The Daily Prophet can be doing to keep you informed, both in regards to Grindelwald and the Muggles?"

Noémie arched an eyebrow. "I suspect The Daily Prophet is under the Ministry's thumb to some degree. I don't expect full transparency and unbias journalism when I read any major news publishing. Censorship is to be expected during war times. The Daily Prophet isn't the worst of them, at least.''

Medea found herself in an unfamiliar territory of continuous agreement with the Lestrange girl. The idea that many of Medea's own thoughts weren't too different from Noémie's was rather illuminating. If anything, because of the interview she was beginning to look at the girl in a new light. "Well said," she agreed quickly. "War brings uncomfortable things and topics that the Ministry monitors. I know how to look for information when it's needed, so I'm not too worried about what a paper does and doesn't do." She gave a small nod as if to confirm her own words.

Quinn was rather surprised to say the least. He hadn't thought there would be as much overlap in their final responses to Grace, especially seeing how little purebloods interacted with or gave a damn when it came to the struggles of muggles. It wouldn't even be too far of a reach to say that Quinn was downright proud of his fellow classmates for being aware, even though they may not give off that impression. Quinn quickly offered two thumbs up to Medea and Noémie, a physical expression of his approval for their responses. "I'm never satisfied with any singular news outlet, no need to feel any personal attacks from this Grace. Different outlets tend to have different motives, political alliances, or a head honcho that wants to continue to perpetuate their own ideology. There's an obvious lack of muggle voices being heard, which I expect in a non-muggle world, but there should still be some way for them to get the representation they need to help add another voice to the growing debates. Many of us muggle-borns have families, friends, or associates that are actively being impacted but unable to have a proper platform to say our piece."







♡design by neon reverie, coded by uxie♡
 
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