harrixtpinnock

[harrixtpinnock]

When they stopped just outside the door, Harriet frowned and turned to ask Nate what was wrong, but before she could ask, the door swung open revealing the slightly disheveled auror behind the desk. Suddenly even more hesitant to speak with the aurors after Nate’s reaction to Auror's nameplate, but eager to get the fuck out Harriet decided to keep her responses short and simple. “There was an incident involving our cousin, Dona Outterridge, several days ago. We were directed to your office to get the information we want.” Harriet purposely left her statement vague, giving the auror the opportunity to tell them whatever they could before she would push for more pertinent information. 

She glanced at Nate in her peripherals as she pulled her jacket off and placed it over the back of one of the seats in front of the aurors desk. The auror in front of them, Cmdr. Max Squint if the nameplate on her door and on the edge of her desk was to be believed, wasn’t a name Harriet recognized. She didn’t have many run-ins with aurors, to begin with, and her surname didn’t ring any bells. Subtly, almost like she was delicately brushing dust off her hands, Harriet traced the pad of her finger up the center of her palm to her middle finger then back – should we leave? She didn’t want to leave without the information they needed about Dona, but her previous inclination to do it herself grew stronger with the tight feeling of anxiety that settled in her chest when they walked through the wards of the Ministry.

@giggle-me-this

harrixtpinnock:

As Harriet walked up to Nate’s side she slid her meanest smile into place. All bright teeth and a sharp glare as she refused to break eye contact with the wix across from them staring and gossiping with the person next to them until they broke first and quickly started walking in the opposite direction. Only then did she turn her attention back to Nate and her expression dulled slightly as she stared up at the Ministry. Harriet wasn’t sure if the tight feeling in her chest was out of concern for their cousin, or apprehension at talking to the Aurors– some part of her always wanting to keep family matters behind closed doors … She’s sure if she had more time she could figure it out without the Aurors. Unfortunately, they didn’t have much time. “Mhmm. Feels a bit backward,” she muttered, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat. 

Unintentionally, she had worn an outfit nearly identical to her brother's– though to be fair it was cold in London and there were plenty of others wearing coats similar to theirs. Their only obvious difference was their hair. “People are looking mostly at you. To be honest, I don’t get nearly as much trouble unless I’m standing beside you.” Harriet gave a strained smirk, her anxiety about what they were about to do leaking back into her expression as she reached for his arm and gave it a light tug toward the Ministry. “I’ll let you do most of the talking–” nothing new there, her mind offhandedly supplied.

@giggle-me-this

“That’s because I’m the better looking one, and I always have been,” Nate quipped back easily, smirking, “You might as well just admit it.” And he tried to focus on that feeling—of how easy and intuitive it was to banter with sister, instead of letting his deluge of anxieties overtake Nate’s extremely unintuitive commitment to actually doing an unpleasant task that was put in front of him. For Dona, Nate tried to remind himself, even though it felt like his shoes were being weighed down with lead as Harriet practically pulled him along.

It got considerably easier after making it through the front door—perhaps because, subconsciously, he knew the wards in here would prevent visitors from apparating in and out, decidedly removing the option to just fuck it and bail from the table. Nate fell into step with Harriet and they walked toward a security desk, which seemed to be the only available access point from the public entrance.

The witch that was sat behind the desk was typing on some sort of levitating typewriter-like keyboard, and Nate just stood there awkwardly for a moment before Harriet nudged him in the rib with her elbow, after which he cleared his throat. “Yeah, hi, so—”

“Names and identification, please?” The witch chirped without looking up from her work. Nate stared back at her, brows raised until she did look up. A look of recognition crossed her features—obviously—and she smiled politely. “It’s just policy, you understand.”

Nate glanced in his peripheral vision at Harriet, and she twitched a brow in a nearly imperceptible shrug. So Nate sighed, long-winded and melodramatic, like it was the single biggest inconvenience of his life as he said, “Nathaniel Preston Pinnock…” He nodded his head toward the side his sister was stood on and said, “…Harriet Eleanor Pinnock.” Then he pulled his wand out of an inner pocket of his coat and dropped it on the desk for the witch to examine—because anyone who carried around their actual wand license as ID was a fucking narc.

After Harriet had done the same, and the witch was satisfied they were who they said they were (as if anyone would be so bold as to fake being a pair of world-famous socialites), she slid them back their wands and said, “Welcome to the British Ministry of Magic, Mr. and Miss Pinnock—” That made both Nate and Harriet visibly cringe, and Nate took a small step away from his sister in discomfort. “—what’s the purpose of your visit today?”

“We’d like to speak with someone from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement about an incident involving our cousin, Dona Outterridge…”

A while later and a good number of floors down, they walked the length of a long hallway that was bustling with aurors that were absorbed in their work, hardly glancing up at Nate and Harriet and even, once or twice, almost running into them from behind mountainous stacks of paperwork within their arms as the hustled to and fro. Things were hectic in the Auror Department, the Front Desk Witch had informed them apologetically—there’d been a recent restructuring, but as far as she knew they should still take their inquiries to the office of—

“Shit,” said Nate, as they turned a corner and came face-to-face with a door that was labeled Cmdr. Max Squint.

@harrixtpinnock​ @aurormax

[harrixtpinnock]

As Harriet walked up to Nate’s side she slid her meanest smile into place. All bright teeth and a sharp glare as she refused to break eye contact with the wix across from them staring and gossiping with the person next to them until they broke first and quickly started walking in the opposite direction. Only then did she turn her attention back to Nate and her expression dulled slightly as she stared up at the Ministry. Harriet wasn’t sure if the tight feeling in her chest was out of concern for their cousin, or apprehension at talking to the Aurors– some part of her always wanting to keep family matters behind closed doors … She’s sure if she had more time she could figure it out without the Aurors. Unfortunately, they didn’t have much time. “Mhmm. Feels a bit backward,” she muttered, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat. 

Unintentionally, she had worn an outfit nearly identical to her brother's– though to be fair it was cold in London and there were plenty of others wearing coats similar to theirs. Their only obvious difference was their hair. “People are looking mostly at you. To be honest, I don’t get nearly as much trouble unless I’m standing beside you.” Harriet gave a strained smirk, her anxiety about what they were about to do leaking back into her expression as she reached for his arm and gave it a light tug toward the Ministry. “I’ll let you do most of the talking–” nothing new there, her mind offhandedly supplied.

@giggle-me-this

The good news was that Nate didn’t actually need Seth in the safehouse for the geotracking the hedge witch had set up in order to track Dona to operate. That would have made everything so easy; follow Dona to wherever she was hiding out with the Daughters now that their old store front had been raided, wait until she was alone, and then have it out with her once and for all. It didn’t matter anymore, all their stupid family drama and their wounded pride; getting Dona back with her family and safe was the only important thing.

The bad news was that the tracker was glitching; it last pinged Dona’s location as somewhere off the map, in the middle of the ocean, and moving west. Which meant the voodoo cunts had probably caught wise of what the Free Traders were doing, after the raid, and switched out the SIM card on Dona’s phone.

Or at least, that’s what Nate hoped had happened.

So they were going to have to do this the hard way. Nate went through the checklist, eliminating the easy and most obvious options first; texts to his aunt, Sol, and Loxley confirmed that Dona wasn’t at Catelyn’s, at her flat, or with the Lockharts. He went to check at St. Mungo’s alone, because Nate was pretty fucking used to that, at this point, and he knew Harriet wouldn’t go there. And he learned from the Healers there that Dona hadn’t shown up for work since last week.

So the next logical thing to do was to follow up with the DMLE; it was aurors who’d conducted the raid, and surely they’d have a lead as to where the Daughters had relocated. Katie wasn’t answering texts or calls on the burner phone—which, fine, Nate was sure she was busy, if someone in the department had died.

It’s just that he really, really didn’t want to have to show his face at the Ministry of fucking Magic.

Nate waited for his sister on the street outside, smoking a cigarette, antsy. He had on a nondescript wool overcoat and dark sunglasses—as if that would do fuck-all at concealing his identity in this part of town. Even before Harriet materialized at his side, Nate noticed wix who were bustling by stopping to stare, he heard whispered hisses of ‘Pinnock.’

“Can’t say I ever imagined it’d be me here inquiring about Dona…” he remarked idly to his sister. He wasn’t sure if what Harriet had done to her hair to differentiate hers and Nate’s appearance made her more or less conspicuous. He tossed his cigarette butt on the ground and stepped on it. “…can we get off the street? People are looking at us and it’s probably only a matter of time before one of them pulls out a camera, and I’m really not in the fucking mood today.”

@harrixtpinnock

[harrixtpinnock]

"Fucking hell ..." Unlike the silent string of expletives she could read across her brother's face Harriet couldn't think of any other response to seeing her cousins scattered around their quidditch box drinking what looked like an amazing bottle champagne. She leaned against the door jam with her arms crossed, silently watching the worst of them at the front. Finn stood the closest with all the arrogance but none of the easy charm that Nate so easily exuded daily. He reminded her more of her own father than Finn's. Harriet ignored Harper more out of habit than anything. Her voice had always given her the worst headaches and being ignored was Harper's worst nightmare.

Unlike the wonder twins, when Farrah stepped forward and flashed them her brilliant smile, Harriet felt her own smile slip onto her face. "My condolences. When's the life sentence?"

harrixtpinnock:

Harriet’s gaze slowly turned from Xiomara to her brother, narrowing her eyes at the pleading look he was giving her. Those looks very rarely ever worked on her whether it was from him or anyone else. “Oh– I should listen blindly to someone whose experience on the Quidditch pitch is behind a pad and quill. Brilliant.” Harriet flashed a quick, sharp, smile and turned her attention back towards the pitch. She may have dropped her title on the Quidditch team her final year of Hogwarts in favor of being Head Girl, but she’d been playing the game from the moment she learned how to fly.

She wasn’t usually the type to be so easily distracted, however at the mention of their old viewing box she turned on her heel and cupped her hand over her eyes to block the glare, spotting their old box with a quick scan. Memories of her and Nate sneaking friends into their family box and getting sloshed came back to her with a bang. High enough in the air that she was at the perfect height to flash the keeper of the opposing team at the end of the game as was her own tradition. “Worth a shot. I’ll need a good view when the Harpies kick their ass.”

@xiomarawinters

Naturally, Harriet did exactly the opposite of what she knew Nate wanted her to do. Over-competitive hag, Nate thought affectionately. He tried very hard not to smile—or to show that he was amused at all—as he said to his girlfriend just as Xiomara opened her mouth to retort: “Ignore her; I try to.”

After some coaxing from Nate and a considerable huff of annoyance from Xi, Nate managed to convince her to hand him the binoculars she was carrying. He moved to where Harriet was standing watching the players down on the Pitch and looked through the lensed barrels, while actually taking a moment to nudge his sister hard yet near-imperceptibly in the shoulder with his elbow and hiss at her from the corner of his mouth, “You could try not being a bitch, you know…” Even though Nate knew that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon; they’d always hazed the people their sibling dated, it was practically a rite of passage. If anything Harriet was going easy on Xi. 

Nate moved the binoculars until they were fixed on their old family viewing box across the arena—which, surprisingly, looked to be occupied by people, though Nate couldn’t make out who they were. He smirked at their good fortune; if some opportunistic rabble trying to pass themselves off as important had somehow managed to con their way into the Pinnock box, it would be all too easy to throw them out with their tails between their legs and take over the seats, no questions asked. Nate turned over his shoulder and said to Xiomara, “Babe—you in the mood to crash a party?”

***

It was with unwavering assuredness that Nate pushed open the door to their viewing box and said, “I do hope you’re aware of the penalties for trespassing in a private viewing box—” But as it turned out, their box wasn’t being wrongfully commandeered by some misguided nobodies. Fuck.

“Well, look who’s back from the dead and using big words…” said a bored voice with a blasé American accent that belonged to Nate and Harriet’s cousin, Finnley Pinnock.

“Are you wearing jeans? Yuck.” This voice was an infinitely worse surprise to hear; sharp and disdainful and nasally—and worst of all, belonging to Finn’s sister, Harper. 

Nate pointedly ignored Harper’s comment about his jeans (which were dark wash and extremely practical, thank you very much…) and said, deadpan and accusing, “What the fuck are you guys doing here?” 

And finally, Farrah Pinnock—the most forgettable of their uncle’s three children, who had been standing in her usual place behind her formidable siblings—bounced forward, flashed her cousins an otherworldly beautiful smile, and said, “Oh, haven’t you heard? I’m engaged!”

Farrah held the back of her hand out in their direction and sure enough—a disgustingly large, flawless emerald-cut Graff diamond that must have been upwards of 15 carats twinkled back at them menacingly. After a moment of gawking at the thing, speechless, Farrah ushered Nate and Xi and Harriet graciously into (their) viewing box, and had a server who was standing in the corner pour them all glittering flutes of champagne. 

“I’m so glad you’re here—we have so much to celebrate!” Farrah gushed, while behind her back, silent and scowling Aubrey Pinnock—who bore their name not through blood, but rather due to her unfortunate marriage to Finn—made a mocking scoff in her throat, and took a gulp of the stiff drink in her hand that would have given any of the bourgeoning baby alcoholics in the Pinnock family a run for their fucking money.

@xiomarawinters· @harrixtpinnock·

[harrixtpinnock]

Harriet’s gaze slowly turned from Xiomara to her brother, narrowing her eyes at the pleading look he was giving her. Those looks very rarely ever worked on her whether it was from him or anyone else. “Oh-- I should listen blindly to someone whose experience on the Quidditch pitch is behind a pad and quill. Brilliant.” Harriet flashed a quick, sharp, smile and turned her attention back towards the pitch. She may have dropped her title on the Quidditch team her final year of Hogwarts in favor of being Head Girl, but she’d been playing the game from the moment she learned how to fly.

She wasn’t usually the type to be so easily distracted, however at the mention of their old viewing box she turned on her heel and cupped her hand over her eyes to block the glare, spotting their old box with a quick scan. Memories of her and Nate sneaking friends into their family box and getting sloshed came back to her with a bang. High enough in the air that she was at the perfect height to flash the keeper of the opposing team at the end of the game as was her own tradition. “Worth a shot. I’ll need a good view when the Harpies kick their ass.”

@xiomarawinters

xiomarawinters·:

harrixtpinnock·:

·

“I’m having fun, are you having fun?” She shrugged past Xi to stand on the other side of Nate. Harriet snatched the beer out of Nate’s hand, sending a final glare in the direction of the drunk staggering back to his seat after the verbal beat down she’d given him. When she turned back in Nate’s direction she spat out the beer she’d just taken a swig of. “What the fuck is that?” Harriet wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and then reached for the little flag that showed what team he was rooting for. “Ah, so you plan on losing today?”

“Oh yes, I’m having a great time.” Xiomara said, deadpanned as she eyed Harriet’s Harpies gear critically. Nate, who had long since given up on telling Xi to behave, would surely have words if she started berating his sister, so she sipped her beer instead, pursing her lips. But when she spoke.. that plan went out the window. “Actually, we want to follow the team that hasn’t got three rookies playing a major game for the first time, that hasn’t benched all of their rookie players since they started, and that… I don’t know, won the Cup last year?”

Here we fucking go… Nate took a large swig of beer that drained nearly half the bottle, lamenting inwardly about how weak of an intoxicant it was in comparison to how buzzed he would have liked to be, to endure this. He cut in before Xiomara was subjected to the same fate as the frat bro Harriet had just taken down by saying lightly, “You should listen to her, Harry—she knows her shit. Does a lot of freelance coverage on this kind of thing…” Nate said all of this in a manner that sounded convincing, while at the same time he fixed Harriet with a very pointed look that said please acknowledge the precarious situation that my balls are in right now, and don’t bust them, would you? 

In a characteristic move, Nate was playing all sides here to his best advantage; publicly, he was supporting his girlfriend’s favored team, so that he might actually get laid again in the next month. But Harriet’s tips had earned him a pretty penny in sports betting over the years, so naturally he’d put money on her odds in the betting books. And of course he’d sent a small gift basket and note to Sol before the game, wishing the Harpies good luck.

Before Harriet and Xi could get into it further, Nate offered up a neutral distraction: “…so, should I see if I can sweet talk us into our old viewing box?”

@harrixtpinnock·

[harrixtpinnock]

@giggle-me-this

There are rumors that local Shadowhunters have been interfering in Downworld Affairs.

[harrixtpinnock]

“I’m having fun, are you having fun?” She shrugged past Xi to stand on the other side of Nate. Harriet snatched the beer out of Nate’s hand, sending a final glare in the direction of the drunk staggering back to his seat after the verbal beat down she’d given him. When she turned back in Nate’s direction she spat out the beer she’d just taken a swig of. “What the fuck is that?” Harriet wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and then reached for the little flag that showed what team he was rooting for. “Ah, so you plan on losing today?”

xiomarawinters·:

Xi picked up the beer bottles, each neck slid between her fingers. She sidled past the line, wrinkling her nose at some drunk fans dropping jager in their red dragons. “Hey,” She jutted her chin up in recognition, “Take yours then, I only have two hands.”

“Ah, yes—two hands, and two hundred thousand opinions…” Nate said with a wry smirk as he took two of the beers Xi was carrying into one hand, already imagining the nonstop string of cutthroat commentary his girlfriend was going to force on him in the coming hours. After a moment, Harriet marched their way, flushed with argumentative passion. Nate handed her one of the beers; ten minutes they’d been here, and already his sister had verbally eviscerated a belligerent fan of the opposing team who’d chosen the wrong person to heckle. Back in the day, the gossip rags would have had a field day—‘PINNOCK HEIRESS ANTAGONIZES LOCAL QUIDDITCH FAN WHILE BROTHER LOOKS ON’—it almost made Nate nostalgic. He looked between his sister and his girlfriend and said, “…you two do know these things are supposed to be fun, right?“

@harrixtpinnock​