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@ptpeter end of summer fayre

Peter was interesting, to say the least. Perfect fit, a puzzle piece - one of four - and yet somehow always the outlier. Someone who carried shadows, who had layers that went beyond what people normally see. The witch could have been wrong but after all those years of being the person to sit by and watch while others lived their lives, having done so gladly, Emmeline felt as though she had at the very least an idea when it came to people.

What a perfect twist to watch the wizard in question waltz by, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and the anger of all of Tartarus in his heart. A huff, a puff and Emmeline was on the case. "Pettigrew, wasn't it?" The brunette took a step closer. "You do seem a bit angry. Annoyed, perhaps. I hope you don't mind me saying." Interested, her tone remained that of someone who cared to hear the answer. "Are you alright?" Anything and anyone that wasn't alright could still be molded - fixed if you would - and altered to fit what was needed. It certainly left curiosity bubbling within her.

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open to all (1/3) end of summer fayre

The last few days had been spent in Venice, enjoying a break from city life with the intent of returning for the summer fayre. Celebrating the end of summer when someone like her preferred fall above all else did seem like a good occasion. That, and a desire to uphold the way she was viewed by the world around her. Those that knew, knew. As for the others, she'd gladly walking through the shadows with a smile on her face.

A glance around, the food stalls looked amazing, the sweets inviting and the drinks enticing more than she cared to put into words. The witch chuckled at the thought of what chaos all of this could bring. She herself was holding some lavender and strawberry treats, curious as to how they would taste. While turning around she bumped into the person behind her, stumbling back with an audible sound. The festival was rather packed. Perfect or annoying - however one wanted to see things. "Apologies. It's overly crowded." And she hadn't cared to check behind her. "I recommend giving those strawberry pops a chance. Or the cherry pops."

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@pandoraxnott the rosier manor

The letter had been sent, the answer anticipated and the visit even more. When Pandora finally stood in front of her the Rosier twin couldn't help the joy. "I was thinking you might want to take a look at some of the new designs that will be joining the others during the fall and winter season."

Leta held out her hand, ready for the other to take it as she turned and hurried away. There was excitement evident within her. "Come, come. I'm sure there are plenty designs you might just end up loving." Not many had been given a chance to take a look at the yet unreleased designs. It did seem like a fun adventure, though.

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Hestia chuckled. "A radiant father instead then. You cover it up well." He did, there was no point in denying it and given the witch considered the other a friend, she wouldn't have either way. "Look at that tiny little face." Neville was adorable, a new generation that would grow up to see a bright day. Of that the former Hufflepuff was sure.

"If any of the baby shower presents weren't to your or Alice's liking, do let me know. I'm sure there is still stuff to be done about it." Time was a fickle thing, but she didn't mind. "Would you like to sit for a moment? Catch up if you'd like." - @franklongbottom-fm

Frank had volunteered to take Neville out for a walk so Alice could sleep for a while. She could use all the rest he could get her. Plus it was nice to get outside again. Even if breathing did still hurt a little and his hands still a bit of a tremor to them. It was fine. They never shook when he held Neville. That's what counted.

"Hestia!" Frank grinned, turning to see her properly. Neville was strapped to his front in a baby carrier. "Nice to see you. Though I'm hardly well-rested. Neville, however, is having a grand time." His son gurgled his approval.

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There was plenty of banter between the twins. Despite the closeness and the plenty hours spent with serious conversations there was only one reaction the blonde had to his comment. "Oh? I believe I arrived precisely when I intended to!" Leta smiled, mischievously looking at him to see if he would say anything back. "I am perfectly on time." Impatience, or simply him being glad that the witch had arrived - expected or not - there was something amusing about it.

A pause that echoed between them, comfortably as she leaned back and got herself comfortable. "Are you asking about Antonin?" There would always be times that she wished to spend with him, for a plethora of reasons that one day she would share with her twin. Perhaps even that day, but she wanted to make sure it all made sense. "I do care about him. I hope you do not mind?"

A question popped into her head. "You weren't hoping to be able to set me up with someone, were you?" If that was a thought or wish of his, she would follow but truly Leta had plenty of ideas herself. The witch was nothing if not as stubborn as her twin. The softness of her smile remained. "What about you, dear brother? Word is you are out and about once more. I'm glad you've found your way back." To the person she'd known him as. - @rsrevan

where: evan's office who: @notdelicatc

The fire burned low in the hearth, its amber glow throwing long shadows over Evan’s office. He sat behind the desk, the collar of his shirt unbuttoned, a quiet sort of tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there earlier. He’d been reading the same paragraph for the past ten minutes, eyes tracing the ink without absorbing a word.

When Leta walked in, her presence stirred something dormant, familiar. He didn’t look up at first, just gestured vaguely toward the chair across from him. “You’re late,” he murmured, but there was no bite to it. Just something that resembled relief.

Only when she was seated did he raise his gaze to her face. “You’ve been out more often lately.” His tone was easy, but there was something else beneath it— curiosity, maybe. Or hesitation. He leaned forward, arms on the desk, studying her with quiet fondness. “Is there something you’re hoping for?” The question hung between them, suspended in the hush. “Or someone?”

He didn’t press further. Just watched her, as if the answer might arrive not in her words, but in the way she looked back at him.

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The Rosier twin had always been an excellent listener; something both required of her and welcomed by those around. Herself included. There were so many things in life made easier simply by remaining quiet for a moment here and there while the words of others flowed. Sometimes it made their wishes easier to fulfill, other times faster to spot a threat and yet other times it was simply nice.

"If you feel you've had to fight all your life, feel as though you've had to look back over your shoulder, know that for now I will be there, covering the back you felt so uncovered before." Leta's voice carried a seriousness that was softened only by her tone. "You aren't fighting this, whatever it may be, on your own anymore." That much the blonde was sure of. There were very few people Leta Rosier cared about as much, and trusted as far as the one in front of her. Perhaps only her twin, but that was a whole other story; a territory no one could fight for or claim. And of course, her friends. Treasured beings all around. Perhaps she'd truly gotten lucky.

Leta reached out, fingers grasping the glass in front of her to allow herself a sip in the moment of silence. "For what it's worth, seeing you being yourself - without armor - is just as nice as the stoic, stubborn person I've come to know you as. It's a part of you." The witch was grateful for the trust he seemed to be putting in her. After all, the witch could still remember their first meeting. What a stubborn man he'd been. Brash, too. And delightfully forward and direct. No point in decorating the words intended to make note of his need for dueling robes.

The thought did make her smile just a little bit. - @xantoninxdolohovx

Antonin watched as Leta’s fingers curled around the small object he had placed carefully in her hand. He noticed the flicker of surprise that crossed her face, subtle but unmistakable. Her curiosity was obvious, but she said nothing. Clearing his throat, he forced himself to steady the tension coiled beneath his calm exterior. There was something softer in his gaze now, something he rarely allowed himself to show.

“You always had a way of understanding things without needing everything explained,” he said quietly, voice low and edged with reluctant warmth. “Waiting until after dinner to talk about this seems like the smartest choice. I don’t want to overwhelm you with too much, too fast.”

He shifted in his seat, folding his hands together on the table as he searched for the right words. “That little thing in your hand.” He let the pause hang between them. “It means more than just some simple trinket. It’s important, yes. But what it really means that’s a conversation for later. For now, I want you to keep it close. Think of it as a promise, though I can’t say more just yet.”

Antonin’s gaze softened further, the usual sharpness melting into something quieter, more honest. “I’m not very good at letting people in, Leta. I’ve spent most of my life watching my back, keeping people at a distance, trusting very few. But with you, something’s different. You make me want to try.”

His voice dropped to a near whisper. “Trust in our world isn’t given lightly. It’s a rare, fragile thing. When I say I trust you, it’s not empty words. It means I’m putting a part of myself in your hands. That’s not something I do often. And it means more than I can say.”

He met her gaze fully, the silence between them thick with unspoken feelings and promises. Then, almost imperceptibly, a small, tight smile touched his lips. “Thank you, for trusting me. For being the one person who might just make it possible for me to be softer. Even if just a little.”

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What had started out as a simple joke, a comment made simply because the blonde loved playing games had somehow become a thing to last months. And along the way had provided her with funny stories, knowledge that had yet to be shared yet seemed to hold no deeper meaning. It was bizarre, and still, Estelle - if asked - would have been unable to explain the thought process behind the chaos or their friendship; if one wanted to call it that.

"I wouldn't be using cutlery. That'd be a terrible waste." Estelle glanced over at Marlene. "Do you truly think me to be that basic? And here I thought you'd only just counted me among the cool, composed types. Cutlery? I'd go for something much more me." And truly, she would. Whatever that was, it was up for the future to tell. If it were to become an issue. "So, what is this pink drink you're speaking of?" - @mkmarlene

where: fountain of fair fortune who: @notdelicatc

Marlene arched a brow across the table, stirring her coffee with the kind of slow, deliberate grace that suggested mischief rather than manners. “You know,” she said, tone airy and teasing, “I still can’t tell if your suggestion that we ‘try friendship’ was a threat, a dare, or some avant-garde form of revenge.” Her lips curved into a smirk, and she took a sip. “But I’m flattered. Really. I don’t usually make the cut with the cool, composed types.”

She glanced down at the brunch menu with mock seriousness. “I assume you’re judging me if I order anything that involves syrup. Which means I absolutely have to now.” Her eyes flicked up again, quick and sharp. “Honestly? This isn’t half bad. You, me, a suspiciously pink drink, and a lot of very bad decisions waiting to be made.” There was something earnest beneath the charm, a flicker of curiosity. “Let’s see how long we can tolerate each other before someone hexes the cutlery.”

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Estelle laughed, shaking her head in amusement as she turned to look at her friend. "Alright, alright. Because it's you and you've asked so nicely." In all honesty, the witch was all in favor of games and sweets. "I'll even make sure to buy some to bring home. I want to try out this new preservation charm box I've bought." She chuckled. "Look at me, buying kitchen appliances."

It was certainly a new habit she'd picked up. Even without her house elf, things seemed to be going in one direction or the other. "Keeps things fresh." New hobbies, habits as well as the box in question. "Where do you want to go first?" - @bbcharity

where: end of summer fayre who: @notdelicatc

Charity grinned as she stepped into the bustling fayre, weaving through the crowd with her best friend in tow. The lights, the music, the smell of sweets and roasted chestnuts — it was the perfect chaos, and she was ready to dive in headfirst.

“Estelle!” she called, looping an arm through her friend’s as she practically bounced along. “I swear, if we don’t try at least three ridiculous games and eat way too many sweets before the night ends, I’ll be disappointed in us. And you know I can’t be disappointed — it ruins the fun.”

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@themaxgoldstein the three broomsticks

A thick layer of mixed confidence and a quieter corner than the blonde would normally pick. It certainly helped keep most away as she stared into the flames flickering within the fireplace. For a moment she wondered how they were keeping things at a cozy temperature despite the summer heat seemingly burning the world to a crisp outside. Still, inside it all seemed comfortable and pleasantly cool. Magic, truly. Her thoughts circled back to the way things had gone the past few months, the renewed hopes that the ministry would be the path forward. There was always work at the end of the day to keep her going.

She felt the eyes on her before she even spotted the owner, took a wild guess as she turned. Estelle's eyes went searching, locked onto the first person the witch spotted. A huff. "Take a picture. It'll last longer." The blonde didn't care much if she'd hit the correct person, very much hoping that it would deter anyone else who might be staring. No, she had other things to do. Other thoughts to return to.

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@aurorasinistrax diagon alley

There was a time Estelle wouldn't have been caught dead around the other. Still, she felt the need to not stay for too long, instead chose a day and hour during which the store seemed less occupied to pay it a visit. Her heels echoed around the place, causing the blonde to feel far more out in the open than she normally would in places she felt in control at.

"I heard you're the best when it comes to the stars. They also say the stars hold the truth. And guidance apparently." Green eyes went searching for those of the other. "I do hope you can help!" Estelle wasn't all too sure why the words were flowing from her mouth as they did. She herself had been apart of the astronomy club, gazing at the stars yet they clearly held more for the other than they ever had for her.

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@nick-mulciber his place

How many weeks had passed since she'd last spoken with Nick? Face to face seemed like a lifetime ago. The last time when he'd come to check up on her before the blonde had made herself sparse and disappeared into work. At some point Estelle had even made her way to France and spent some time there. Vacation, they'd called it, but really it was to wrap her mind around how much life had changed. Her goals and dreams were still her own, nothing would ever be able to change that.

"I brought food. And snacks." Estelle pushed past him the moment the door opened. A sigh to follow. "Is it finally official?" It wasn't the first time she'd ask and not the last and given how distant things had been due to her excursion into other countries and a workload that seemed to be scheduled overwhelmingly extensive by choice, the world could have shifted without her knowing.

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@clydexavery ministry of magic

It had been a while since she'd last seen the other wizard. For the most part the last few weeks, nay months of her life had been filled entirely with work. And vacation. So long as the body was occupied, the mind would follow. It was something the blonde had been living by for a while. That was until she finally heard rumors - through the grape vine or whatever branch or twig - of there being talks about the potential of a personal assistant to the minister.

"Clyde. Thought I might find you here." It was his place of work after all. "Have you got plans for lunch yet or might I take up that time slot? There are interesting whispers floating around the other departments."

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Hannah John-Kamen as Sonja in Black Mirror (2016)

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phoebe dynevor for flaunt magazine

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JENNA COLEMAN getting ready for the Apple TV BAFTA Brunch in London, UK (May 10, 2025)

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• ester expósito as lilí in bandidos (6/?)

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For a moment she simply allowed herself to just look at him, observe; as though each and every tiny speck of dust in the air, every move of a muscle could alter something. A smile broke through as she shook her head, shaking the thoughts from her mind. "Well, come along then. It's been a while." Since he'd been in her flat above the shop. Since they'd spoken, properly.

Time was such a bizarre thing, especially when it came to them. Emmeline felt as though she was a moth chasing the flame; had been that very same creature for years. And for far too many of them had she not dared to think about the meaning of the chase, the hopes and dreams that had been pushed down so far that anyone else may have potentially forgotten about them altogether.

The witch moved, pushing carefully past him with a mere glance up at him. "Do you want some freshly cut lemon with your tea? Honey?" Questions that were simply meant to fill the silence that had settled, no matter how comfortable it may have been. Evan Rosier may have potentially been the only person in the world the brunette felt comfortable being around in pure and utter silence. There was comfort in that.

Her feet carried her up the steps, door opened to let the wizard in as she moved without glancing back. Flicks of her wand were enough to set the kettle on its path to boil water for tea as she moved to the counter; to keep busy, to think as she hummed quietly with each move of her hands. - @rsrevan

It was a strange feeling-- like stepping into a memory, not quite the past, but somehting shaped by it. Evan wasn't entirely sure what he'd come looking for, or if there was even a reason behind it at all. It hadn't been planned, he'd simply found himself walking through her door again, like all those time before-- inevitably drawn to her, despite himself.

But he was done fighting it. There was nothing holding him back anymore, no commitment to keep him away, restrained from doing precisely what he wanted to do. Still, he'd learned not to rush. Not with her.

He nodded at her words, gaze caught in the curve of her smile before daring to meet her eyes. "Wise as ever, my Emms," he said, voice low and playful. The pause that followed was deliberate, unhurried. Comfortable, even-- a kind of stillness he only ever found here. Evan took a step closer, the hush between them broken only by the scratch of her charmed quill in the background.

When his eyes met hers, there was a softness in them reserved for no one else. The wizard reached out, thumb brushing her cheek-- the lightest touch, almos reverent, more revealing than anything he could say aloud. "Tea sounds lovely."