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[notdelicatc]

Whether it was her being petty or the fact that getting a rise of Edgar just seemed like the most entertaining of things, she couldn't tell. And still, the blonde moved until she'd almost crossed the barrier only to lean against the building's wall next to him. "That line? Oh, but crossing line makes life so much more entertaining, wouldn't you say?" Rita was playing games, loved the way he seemed to squirm whenever she was nearby.

"Compliments?" She chuckled. "Cute." It was rather amusing to say the least. "Of course not. Well, unless it was you who put sent out the owl to the Daily Prophet." There had been no such thing, but he didn't need to know that her information came from plenty of sources. "So, what's up with that old shack of a house?" - @edgcrboncs

Dark brows knit together as calloused fingertips moved to scratch behind his head. A bad habit brought about by nerves.  “ — Er – No, but you’re fine to be here, behind the protective designated civilian line that is.” He tried to keep his tone even, from giving her anything she could use. 

Blinking, “Should I have been expecting you Miss Seeker  ? “ Fingertips going back into the warmth of his pockets, he rolled back onto his heels. “Look I’m sure you’re very good, very brave, but rules are rules && You can understand that I would be terrible at my job if I were to allow anything to happen to such a brilliant witch as yourself.” Sometimes, the path of least resistance was the easier approach.

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It was her turn to struggle keeping her eyes on him as the words fell, ringing in her ears like something she wasn't all too sure would ever leave. "We can't know. We can't ever know for sure." The witch felt a shiver run down her spine, the ghostly feeling of somethin akin to fear; fear that her entire life and all the people she'd ever loved had only cared for her out of the compulsion someone like her was seemingly capable of - with or without intention. No natural charm, no just magic that forced others to see her as thing odd creature; nothing pure or beautiful about it.

She rose to her feet, glancing down at him and yet purposely not daring to look at him. "I never meant for you to feel like you'd been deceived." Ever. Estelle had truly cared for him. Still did. A part of her wondered if the fact that he had been able to walk away before was prove of something else, a reality that held truth about the feelings at hand. "For what it's worth, I did love you. Truly. Even if you may not have." Had she charmed him? Was that what it was? Had she charmed Nick? How many more had fallen prey to that? - @beckavery

Beck still remembered the way Nick had told him; as if he should've seen the signs before. He worked at the hospital where he saw a lot of cases and he had his own extensive training before, recognizing all the little tells of intution. Beck couldn't understand how he didn't see it. Maybe he was that enamored with her that he was willing to ignore all probable answers to replace his own delusions. Of course someone like Estelle was too good to be true. There was her family's power running deeply through her and maybe not of it was her fault. Still, he blamed himself for not knowing. Not seeing who Estelle truly was. What she was. "How can I know that? How can I trust any of it?" he stresses and drops his gaze. It felt wrong to feel anger towards Estelle, to feel anything but love and empathy. Now, he felt a cold shiver run down his back. She beckoned him to look at him and Beck resisted at first, not wanting to meet her gaze, but he owed it to her to listen. When he looked up, his stoned face softened slightly. "I can't," he said, his voice cracking at the end. "Maybe you didn't mean to-how can we know for sure?"

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Beatrice found herself laughing, the sound echoing through the room. "Oh, I don't think that'd be a good idea. With all your baked goods I'd be struggling to make it through the ministry doors, don't you think?" Honestly, Alara's little bakery held a quality within it that the witch hardly dared dismiss and it combined the best of the magical and muggle worlds of treats and tarts. How could anyone not fall in love with the idea. "I'll give it my best shot, to come by and not succumb to the pile of goodies you have around here."

Again Bea shook her head. "Nonsense. No freebies for me. I'll pay like everyone else, though I wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee if you have some freshly brewed?" A small offer, glad to be seeing the other out and about again. - @alaraselwyn

Alara emerged from the back just as the chimes above the door rang out. Her eyes landed on a familiar face, one she hadn’t seen in far too long. She froze, just for a breath, memories of that conversation with her sister slowly surfacing. Secrets she had sworn to carry to the grave flickered through her mind. And one in particular belonged to the witch now standing before her, her brother.

It took her a moment to collect herself before moving toward the display case, gently setting down a tray of freshly baked goods. "Thanks," she said softly, offering a small smile. "I've been easing back into working the front of the shop, little by little." A small pause. "You should stop by more often." We’re going to be family, she thought, but couldn’t say. "Can I get you anything? It’s on the house."

[notdelicatc]

It was though the witch was hit by a wave of words, plenty of which she simply let pass her as she shook her head and moved away from him to pour a drink. For a moment she considered not even bothering to pour him one, feeling petty over the fact that he had no consideration for her during his own petty squabble. "You are so smart." Her head shook, annoyance radiating off her. Estelle's hand moved, pouring the second drink before holding it out to the other.

"So, so smart and yet the one person who doesn't know what to do with any of it." The blonde truly believed him to be smart, a brilliant soul among the dullness of life. And yet she'd never been more disappointed by his actions. "Was it? Was it as real as whatever you feel when you look at Sev?" Estelle truly struggled to believe anything had ever been real. "You never talked to me about it, about you knowing. Why?" There was a dangerous hint of curiosity within her eyes. "Did you keep it to yourself on purpose?" She could only hope the answer would be a form of desperate denial. - @nick-mulciber

“Hurting you wasn’t worth it, no.” Hurting Beck was. It always was. Slimy little shit of a man. If this was all it took to drive a wedge between Beck and Estelle then Beck didn’t deserve her.

She hadn’t known either? Nick blinked rapidly, readjusting to this information. He thought she had figured it out too. “No, I wasn’t aware.” He followed her to the cabinet as his mind spun through any possible way he could make this right. “If that’s all it took to scare him off you then he didn’t deserve you anyways. It was real for me, though. What I felt for you then was real, what I feel for you now is too."

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"By which time we no longer need the answers needed now. But I'm sure it will answer plenty other questions the future will undoubtedly throw your way." Emmeline had no doubt that Rabastan and Alecto would manage just fine, even if she had not necessarily been picturing her friends with that type of challenge quite so soon. In fact, plenty other things came to mind the brunette could see her friends wading through much sooner than this, but life had a funny way of twisting the path that lay ahead. Either way, she couldn't deny that fatherhood looked good on her friend; committed, dedicated, determined.

The hug was yet another thing, pathway to the witch fully letting her guard down as much as she ever had around another person. In fact, she could count the people on one hand. Even less than that. Drink in hand she could only chuckle, amused by the way the conversation flowed so nicely right back to the important matters at hand. Delicate fingers reached for the letter, scanning the neat font that listed auror houses. "I know plenty of these. I placed plenty of these, in fact." That and various spells that disabled detection and other things; requested by the ministry. "Some of these cannot safehouses cannot be hit. It would make it a little too obvious and I fear some locations are made up entirely, but the list of curses is entirely accurate. The auror department is in no position to risk their operatives having to make do without protection."

And yet the brunette was very much capable of providing a list, further beyond this. If they'd work together the list would be neat. "I can make suggestions regarding which of the safehouses could be cracked." It was important the witch kept up appearances; doe eyed and loyal to the ministry and its aurors - no matter what. It was the way she'd gone about, holding all that trust despite her circle of friends and family. "If need be I can get us a list of safehouses not secured by me." Oh, she loved leaving the blame with others. - @r-lestrcnge

Quirking an eyebrow, Rabastan's smile broadened as he paced towards a small liquor cabinet beside the fireplace. "I fear it will remain a mystery to us all - until they begin speaking, of course." That would bring a whole other set of problems to address, but he chose not to consider it for now. The children were small and helpless. His attention was still centred on them with protective possession. He anticipated loosening his hold as they grew, and letting the nanny do her job. That was her purpose, after all. His childhood had been largely devoid of parental attention. Though he intended for the children to be more involved in family life, he saw no need to diverge from tradition too greatly. He wanted them to grow successfully and appropriately. But it was not his role to raise them.

Pouring drinks, he extended a glass to Emmeline and took a long sip of burning scotch. It was refreshingly rich. The gesture was nonchalant. But his eyes were affixed to the witch with studious intensity. He knew she was more than able to cope with work in his absence. It was other matters that concerned him, more innately caring than he would wish to admit aloud. So he returned the embrace with genuine affection and paused her before she pulled away, scanning her eyes with a more sincere smile than most would ever see.

"I'm glad you've been busy. I hope you haven't endured too many absurd customers." Accepting the letters, he filtered through them and moved to sit with her on the couch. The whole place was more welcoming than his townhouse. He still owned the building and liked it greatly. But it was his, alone, and unsuited to a family. Placing the letters onto a table, he opened only the final one and scanned its contents briefly. It contained notes on curses and a series of numbers that were map co-ordinates. He handed it to Emmeline. "Suggestions for Auror safehouse curses. Do any look familiar?" Her position in the Ministry was essential. She was in an excellent position to complete the Dark Lord's work. In this case, she knew what curses and enchantments might await them when they finally found the damned place. Patience was a virtue, but not one that their Leader particularly possessed. Rabastan was also losing his own, wishing to locate it more swiftly.

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"Hmm." It was nothing but a hum that escaped as the witch observed the other, noting the body language as it morphed into something else; someone with a desperate wish to appear in control or something akin to it. "I cannot complain. My life is still that, my life." Her life, one which the brunette was no longer part of and, truthfully, Leta Rosier could not have been more relieved.

"A little bit of a shake might be a little bit of an understatement there." It was as far as she was going to venture, for now. "Do I bother asking or would I receive the age-old same answers?" It was Cressida all over again, though in that instance the witch hadn't felt a need to defend her brother with claws - or words - and whatever else it took. If not for him her holding back would have looked a lot different. - @alaraselwyn

She hadn't meant to bump into her, of all people, not today, not like this. But Alara held her footing with the poise of someone raised to expect confrontations behind smiles. Her back straightened, her expression composed, though her fingers curled slightly around the book in her hand. "Leta." A small nod in return. Her name felt strange on her tongue after so many silent months.

"Life is… different. But I’d say it’s treating me fairly, considering I gave it a bit of a shake." Her eyes softened just slightly, enough to show she wasn’t there to fight. "And you?"

[notdelicatc]

"I'm not dismissing them. I am simply saying it hasn't happened, yet." What had not happened could still become a thing in the future, and in some of those cases the wizard was rather sure to push forward. He would reach his goals, or die trying. Amycus could have gone on and on about that, the little difference within those words a whole world to him, but then she asked about naming plants. "No, why ever would I do that?" His brows shot up. "Why, do you want to name them?"

It was an open invitation, placed to hover in the air like so many other non-committal things the Carrow twin threw out. Nothing more than that. A hand reached for hers as he scanned the crowd. "Good. It would be dreadfully boring if you were to suffer through the events of a wedding, wouldn't you say?" Dancing should solve that issue, either way. - @pandoraxnott

There was something about Amycus’ laughter that made the witch smile. “You really shouldn’t dismiss your dreams like that, anything is possible,” she said, her tone laced with playful teasing and warmth in her eyes. It had been quite some time since she’d last seen him. “Plants, you say?” she echoed, her voice lifting with curiosity. “Have you named them?” It was the first question that popped into her head, and the amusement in her voice was unmistakable.

Her gaze drifted toward the dance floor. She saw no harm in indulging in a single dance, after all, wasn’t that what weddings were for? Pandora nodded. “I’d love to dance,” she said, offering him her hand. A genuine smile touched her lips. “I am enjoying myself, actually.”

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Amycus spun her around, taking steps along to whatever the music dictated. It was easy, simple. The words flowed ever so nicely, as much as the steps. Still, he couldn’t help but grin. “Well, we can’t have you wither away like a flower just because you find yourself bored out of your mind, then, can we?” His voice carried a certain amusement. For the most part he was just fine staying away from the bigger crowds, to spend his time in his laboratory or shop. “I would provide more than a dance, but I do actually like the couple, so I shan’t ruin their day.” Nor would he dare mess with the decor or the location itself.

“So, dancing will have to do for now.” It would be keeping her away from the more mundane things, either way. Amycus could only hope that would do for now. “So, if you could do anything – anything at all – right now, what would it be?” The wizard was on his best behavior, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy some mischief here or there so long as it would keep in line with his previous set goals of not messing anything up. Then he remembered something, chuckling at the thought as he let her twirl, only to reach into his own pocket to grab a bag of powder. It was a short break in the dance routine as he threw the powder into the hair, a flick of his wrist and the powder began to twist and swirl, shaping into a sparkling chaos of magnificence. Constellations formed, light orbs shaped. It would disappear soon enough, but for now it would make things at least a little more interesting. “It’s not like I can turn the flowers to stone, is it?” A shrug, as he pulled her closer once more. - @bbcharity

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Leta was someone with opinions as strong as the thickest walls and in this case, her opinion stood firm. “Oh, nonsense. It was the least I could do given their behavior.” The witch lacked patience for those who couldn’t do their job. Why do it in the first place if not the correct way? Do it well, or don’t do it at all. A perfectionist’s mindset, through and through. A hard-working individual at that.

“How have you been? We do not get to see each other a lot. I believe we both tend to keep busy, but please, do correct me if I am wrong about that.” The blonde very much could be found working on designs most of the day, within working hours and when inspiration did strike, even beyond that. It was simply what she’d gotten used to, though she was, by no means a workaholic. When time off was needed, oh she would damn well take it.

And just like that, with a nice conversation on the rise the tension within Leta’s shoulders was replaced with the curiosity of a mind burning to hear answers. - @pandoraxnott

Pandora didn’t go out often, and rarely bothered with reservations. But this time, she decided to try something different. When she heard about the slight overbooking issue, she gave a small nod, ready to leave quietly, until a familiar voice cut through the murmurs, drawing her attention.

Her eyes found Leta’s, surprise flickering across her face before settling into a polite smile. “Thank you, Leta. That’s very kind of you.” She glanced briefly at the hostess, then moved toward Leta’s table.

Settling into the offered seat, she gave a grateful nod. “Company would be most welcome.” Despite the minor inconvenience, Pandora appreciated the gesture.

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Kidnapping. That was a new thing to be listed among things if she was to miss showing up at the ministry. “Oh, please. I might need you to kidnap me one day.” She laughed. “I am on break, a lengthy one because I tend to forget mine.” That was usually how things went. The witch wasn’t exactly a workaholic. No, she’d rather go with the term easily distracted and far too stubborn to give up until things made sense. That and the depths of space holding beauty that she felt too few appreciated, but that wasn’t something she could tell him.

“You and I, together? Phew, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Honestly, the brunette couldn’t quite think of the time or day when she’d last gotten to hang out with Edgar without it having been a quick lunch before either of them hurried back. Time had a way of sneaking up. “It’s been too long.” - @edgcrboncs

“ Well, good, I’d hate to be accused of kidnapping you when you’re working,” he teased with ease. He knew the signs of a workaholic; Merlin, he was the kettle. 

" I don't know, let's do something fun. When's the last time you or I have done anything fun ? "

[notdelicatc]

Words that flowed nicely, the confirmation of a good conversation. His words in turn brought a smile to her face as her eyebrows perked up at the hypothetical implication of those words, chuckling as she nodded instead of pointing out just what he’d extended. Two could play that game, albeit one was intentionally doing so. “Well, perhaps I’ll have to take you up on that. Up until today I hadn’t met anyone with a ferret, and you may have just become the first person of that kind, and the first who has a ferret who happens to have a room of their own.”

Beatrice had to think for a moment. At this rate she’d have to give her cat her own room, too. Somehow the witch felt like Marnie might appreciate that. Though she wasn’t too sure if her owl was due the same consideration, given it loved to hover in the trees behind the station. “Gazing the stars and tending to miniature trees. Doesn’t sound like too bad as selection, I’d say.” She smiled, softly this time. “I honestly fear my life may be boring in comparison. I read, a lot. Occasionally, when the streak hits and the need arises. I bake, plenty. I don’t own a telescope, anymore, but I used to attend the astronomy club back in Hogwarts. I can tell you as much, even my work has to do with the stars.” Of sorts, but then again, planets and space all had to do with the stars. “Sometimes I fly around the area. The highlands are wonderful for that.” - @clydexavery

"Oh, she's an excellent hider. You ought to see her room some day, it's covered in tunnels and little dens." He blinked, not realizing until he'd already said that he'd just hypothetically invited a gorgeous woman to his mausoleum of a house. Well, no taking it back now.

"When I'm not running the family estate? I got a new telescope recently, so I've been breaking it in. And I have some bonsai that I tend to. Very thrilling hobbies, I know. What about you? What mysteries do you solve away from work?"

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Rita smirked, eyes on the cousin in front of her as her eyebrows shift to match the words that flowed seconds later. “I will be polite and call it adventure.” Though they both know that the term itself is harmless in comparison to the actual truth. “And if you must, those three over there seem most likely.” Beyond that the room seemed filled with people entirely oblivious to the world or in a state or another that none in their right mind should recommend. This is what she’s good at; keeping her eyes and ears open to the very many things that slip past others.

A laugh added to the mix as she took a sip from the drink in her hand. “How have you been? And just to get it over with, your father’s been asking. Told him I hadn’t heard from you in a while.” It wasn’t a lie, but also not entirely the truth. “Is he keeping those owl deliveries asking about your state automated somehow?” Leave it to Caellum’s father to have a subscription on repeated owl invasions. - @sorecerys

𝐡𝐞’𝐬   𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬   𝐢𝐧   𝐡𝐢𝐬   𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬   around   the   white   wyvern   ,   as   if   seeking   something   not   even   he   could   tell   you   what   it   was   .   and   escape   ?   maybe   .   a   distraction   ,   more   probable   .   he’d   stayed   out   of   trouble   thus   far   and   now   his   skin   was   beginning   to   itch   ,   itch   with   a   need   for   something   more   ,   someone   ,   even   but   admitting   that   would   taste   bitter   on   his   tongue   and   so   ,   distraction   it   was   .   the   voice   is   a   gravelly   reminder   of   family   as   it   catches   peripherals   .   rita   .   familiarity   seeps   into   features   as   he   turns   towards   her   ,   lips   quirked   upwards   in   a   cheeky   smirk   ,   always   knowing   the   witch   would   never   attempt   to   drag   him   into   the   depths   of   hell   in   which   he   compared   his   father   to   .   “   always   knew   you   were   my   favourite   ,   reet   .   ”   he   praises   ,   sweetness   .   a   reminder   of   baby   faced   caellum   grinning   at   the   elder   of   them   both   .   “   and   what   is   it   you   think   i’m   searching   for   dear   cousin   ?   ”

[notdelicatc]

Not a beat passed before Emmeline noticed the drop in the other’s face. So, she did her best to push a smile onto hers. There were no hard feelings there, no dislike for the mention of Evan. In fact, it was the first time anyone other than Rabastan and Alecto had mentioned the other to her. For all she knew the world had been entirely oblivious to her even knowing Evan, despite how hard that may have been, given everything their world had thrown her way. “Chin up, Travers. I would hate to sour the mood.” Smile still present. “Lets go for the sherpherd’s pie then. Sounds like it’ll be fitting enough, no?”

It was a rare thing to find Emmeline attempting to cheer up others or divert her energy toward damage control outside the dark arts. But truly, she did not wish for the other to know her distress, nor did she want the other to feel bad. Nothing she’d said had been wrong. “Would it help if I said I think he’s an interesting guy?” Oh, she could say far more than that, but she would leave it at that. - @lydiatravers

Lydia tilted her head to one side, momentarily confused. She hadn't meant to make Emmeline's face look quite like that. For all Lydia could tell, Evan and Emmeline had ... something. She was never quite sure what, but it also never seemed like her place to push. They seemed to be friends of a sort, or at the very least she thought Evan liked her. Sometimes she thought maybe Evan liked her liked her, but Lydia could never be sure with Evan. Maybe she'd been wrong.

"If you want something that'll stick on your ribs, definitely go for the shepherd's pie. When I have to work a double, I always go with that. It comes with chips, too. I can also convince the cook to make you a smoothie. Those definitely will keep you going."

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Leta found herself chuckling. “Well, of course. Of course, one could have that.” And then her hand moved, slender fingers pointing toward another corner. “Such as right there. Though, mind you, these are not intended for potions. I personally just like them separated, you know?” That and the fact that there were plenty of feisty plants in the potion section of the greenhouse complex. The witch smiled at his words, letting them flow between them. The time she got to spend time with the wizard was always precious. If that meant allowing the elves the afternoon of or setting them on a baking spree in the kitchen, so be it. She’d do it gladly, even if she didn’t mind the creatures.

The blonde nodded, listening to him talk and for a moment she felt that ever present chill before her laughter cut through the greenhouse. “Then I shan’t be mentioning the Lestrange brothers. I would hate to have to drag them into this. But, no, rest assured. I will not be demanding you to have house elves. Against all odds I am not incapable of living life without them. I just appreciate having them around and for this estate they always will be. Should I move, I will be taking my personal elf with me, but beyond that no elf should ever come across you if I can help it.” Other than the occasional tray of tea and biscuits showing up unannounced.

Any and all flowers brought joy to the witch, having early on been instructed to have gardening be a prime skill of hers. After all, wasn’t it part of many pureblood’s education prior to Hogwarts? Her mother had insisted and Leta, once she’d found the joy within it, taken up the skill to expand upon whatever the woman may have taught her before she’d been ripped from her life. The thought caused a shiver to run down her spine. Family. What a peculiar word. To her it certainly held other expectations than most, perhaps. Life had a funny way of twisting things like that. "Alright. The grand tour it is. But if you want any of the flowers, you must tell me. There are charmed shears for that." Ones that would not harm the plant. - @xantoninxdolohovx

“No, I think that you having a diverse garden makes sense.  I imagine you could cultivate things for potions that still looked and smelled good, but I’m not an expert in herbology, or landscaping.  Despite having to do some of the basic work keeping the grounds, that was more character building than a hobby.”  He looked at one of the plants twisting a leaf between his fingers, there was something to the idea of losing yourself to that kind of labor without having to and creating something beautiful and lasting. “I don’t have the enmity for them I once did, though I’m glad to have this time alone with you I will admit.”  He thought on elves, and for a moment his eyes got a bit hard, but there was no real enmity behind them.  With grounds for an estate like this one person working them seemed unrealistic and working to exhaustion was a less common practice in other homes. “Perhaps elves are a necessity, loyal, service for life.  We did have them as well, but like everything on the estate they were my parent’s.”  His eyes were a bit icy looking at Leta as much as looking through her. “Also I trust you not to try and set me up with any of them, not so much for a certain pair of brothers who will remain nameless to ward off any future invitations.” Antonin let out a chuckle pulling Leta close enough he could lean on her shoulder taking her arm in a double grip. “Alright, tour me through your gardens, I would like to see your enchanted roses, free range sunflowers and everything in between, I’m sure you won’t hold it against me if I enjoy the company of the gardener as much as the garden.”  He gave a contented sigh, it all felt a bit different like the relaxed nature of things was the most natural and unnatural thing, he would worry that he was losing his edge if he wasn’t working so hard to hone hers.

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Hestia sat down next to him; eyes trained on the wizard in front of her. “I always worry. You know what that’s called? Caring, Peter. It’s called caring. Whether something is up or not. I ask people how they’re doing, because I want them to be okay and, if anything is ever wrong, hopefully feel they could come to me about it.” The former Hufflepuff leaned back, allowed herself to relax a bit as the intensity within her eyes ebbed away to settle into something tamer.

“I’ve been alright. Nothing I cannot handle. So long as you don’t count drowning within a ministry.” A joke of her own. When had the ministry ever not been swamped with work? Not in her lifetime, that’s for certain. - @ptpeter

The wizard shrugged his shoulders slightly, plumpeting down on his chair as he listened to his mentor speak. He had been wondering what the conversation would be about since the beginning of the Order meeting, eyes glancing at Hestia every now and then, anxiety building within him. It was natural for him to worry, so he didn't quite let go when she reassured him nothing was wrong, and his point was proven when she asked about how he'd been. Certainly she would've noticed something, a change in his demeanor or maybe just a gut feeling. "Yeah, I feel we've all been channeling it quite alright. We've all been fairly busy too, so I guess there's not been as much mischief because of that." He attempted a joke, trying to redirect the attention to lighter topics, a small smile appearing on his lips. "I'm alright, as anyone can be with the war and all. But I'm good, you don't have to worry." A lie, nothing bad he thought, but he didn't feel like sharing his inner troubles with anyone at all. "How about you, chief?"

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Emmeline’s shoulders moved, the shrug evident with each bit of movement. “I gave everyone a run for their money.” With Emma as the captain there wasn’t much else to be done, and she wouldn’t have changed it for the world. No matter what, the brunette had always been someone trying much harder than most. An individual ready to push past limits if their ever presented themselves.

And then she moved, steps taking toward and then past the other as though she silently expected him to follow. In the middle of a conversation, whyever would he not. “There are worse ways to end up than that, I suppose.” Then again, Emmeline had never been forced to lose something she cared about so deeply. Well, no, that wasn’t entirely true. Nothing that fell among something akin to a career in quidditch. That was a thing she had opted out herself. - @allabbottme

There was a part of Anthony that shrivelled when Emmeline pointed out that they had in fact played against each other in Hogwarts. Anthony hadn't meant to put his foot in it, but after playing so many games, the years seemed to merge into one. And often, if they didn't win , he tried to blank them out all together. "Well, I'm sure you gave me a run for my money." At the mention of his accident, Anthony shrugged. A tendency to downplay it to mask the true regret behind his failed attempt at becoming one of the great's. "Accident," Anthony quickly responded. "Lost the control of the broom when diving for the Quaffle, St Mungos tried their best to return my leg to its full potential but there was only so much they could do."

"The Three Broomsticks? Yeah, she does."

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“Anyone of your kind.” He corrected those words as easy as wiping dust off his shoulder, and twice as quickly. “You know, it’s pretty much a compliment. In all honesty, this saves me so much time.” Amycus was somewhat of a wildcard when it came to most things, ever the spontaneous burst of inspiration and energy. Not so much now, when faced with someone he’d rather watch drown than thrive, but he’d make do.

And hand grasped at the papers, if only to keep in line with whatever this was, he had started. A game, of sorts. In the alchemist’s eyes James Potter was just another one in a long line of people who had gone out of his way to ruin a perfectly good name and bloodline with no hope of fixing either of it. "How's that attachment of yours doing?"- @its-jamespotter

Of course, it was Carrow who happened to slide into the spot across from him. James folded the top corner of the newspaper to peer over to see that it was really him. After his run-in with Lestrange, he was careful about avoiding any of the pureblood types like the rest of them. James begrudingly handed over some sections, not caring if Amycus kept them or not. They were at this point moot and James didn't have any need for keeping papers after the house once he read through them. Unless it was for starting a fire. James leaned back in his chair and raised the papers again. "Not just any occasion, though I could make you feel special and leave in two minutes. You might even have hit a record for the longest conversation anyone would want to have with you."