nott-amused-archive

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zephyrbcll‌:

“I’ve never claimed I’m not biased. I know my boss says people listen to me for my accent, but at least some of them have to agree with my opinions. That or they just like hating on my opinions.” Zephyr commented as he popped a piece of candy in his mouth and started to fold the wrapper neatly. “Considering the number of howlers I’ve received at work has gone down, I’m going to assume they agree with me. This one wasn’t even that vulgar.”

It wasn’t just that, Zephyr knew, it was also that he’d stopped picking as many fights on air and intentionally pissing people off, mostly because Remus had asked him to. He’d once promised he’d be the one person that Remus didn’t have to worry about and considering that Camilla had ended up murdered in the same place they both worked not even a week later, well… maybe Remus had a point that he shouldn’t run his mouth so much.  

“I don’t know what an American accent sounds like.” Dmitry hadn’t even noticed the howler going off until Lord Stair had alerted him to it, the dog seemingly mistaking it for some kind of building alarm. Or, for all Dmitry knew, there was a separate building alarm going off. “I don’t know if it’s much different than mine or anyone else’s, and I certainly don’t listen to the radio.”

That was probably somewhat rude, but Dmitry didn’t particularly think it mattered. If people were going to insist on talking about things that made about as much sense to him as climbing trees did to fish, they could deal with snappy answers. “I’m deaf, mate. You’ve picked the wrong person for this conversation.”

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kingmeshacklebolt‌:

The longer this war went on the more Kingsley thought about trying to convince Clara to take Paul and the kids to visit family outside Britain and then just… stay for a while. Alice was only two, for Merlin’s sake. She deserved a chance to grow up without knowing fear. Kingsley knew though that going to argue with a human rights lawyer equipped with a Shacklebolt stubborn streak and a life time full of older sister blackmail material wouldn’t be easy. He needed a plan of attack. Maybe a bulleted list or three. Perhaps a flowchart. He made a very good flowchart.

He sat at a table in the park, Elrond rolling happily in the grass nearby, and chewed at the end of a Muggle pen (Benjy had gotten him hooked years ago).

“Hypothetically,” He said to the person sitting down across from him, “If you had to win an argument, how would you do it?”

“I’d hire me, to start with.” Dmitry had been watching Lord Stair play with Elrond, but decided that Kingsley’s apparent interest in debate was more interesting. Even if the dogs were really damn cute-- they could bring the dogs to a debate though, couldn’t they? “But if I couldn’t do that, I’d start with outlining the situation from the other party’s point of view. If you start where they’re at instead of where you’d like them to be at, you can get your foot in the door a lot easier.”

The longer this war went on the more Kingsley thought about trying to convince Clara to take Paul and the kids to visit family outside Britain and then just... stay for a while. Alice was only two, for Merlin’s sake. She deserved a chance to grow up without knowing fear. Kingsley knew though that going to argue with a human rights lawyer equipped with a Shacklebolt stubborn streak and a life time full of older sister blackmail material wouldn’t be easy. He needed a plan of attack. Maybe a bulleted list or three. Perhaps a flowchart. He made a very good flowchart.

He sat at a table in the park, Elrond rolling happily in the grass nearby, and chewed at the end of a Muggle pen (Benjy had gotten him hooked years ago).

“Hypothetically,” He said to the person sitting down across from him, “If you had to win an argument, how would you do it?”

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fawley-en-face‌:

So. It turned out that once you got over the shakes, violent murder was actually pretty cathartic. Claudius Burke had been dead for over a week now, and Henry felt light. 

He was walking Daisy, her short little legs making it more of a leisurely stroll. The sun was warm against his skin. He almost completely sank into the sensation, until Daisy tugged rather determinedly on her leash and let out a rather demanding bark. 

Henry rolled his eyes but indulged her as she raced towards another person eagerly. 

“She’s friendly, promise,” he said.

Dmitry didn’t even see Henry’s words, already kneeling down to pet one of his favorite animals. Making the office pet friendly was one of the best decisions he’d ever made, especially since it hadn’t taken any work considering Lord Stair had already been there. The big dog joined in on greeting the smaller one, excitedly wagging his tail and very carefully jumping around as so not to trample Daisy.

“Enjoying the sun?” He asked after the dogs had settled down a bit, looking up at Henry. “It’s probably some of the last of it for the year-- you should get one of those heat lamps, like a lizard.”

Afterglow

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adelaideboots‌:

“If you see the guy with the turnip in the waiting room, tell him to piss off. He’s come in here three times today trying to tell me it has cursed him, and that he needs to see a senior healer immediately.” Adelaide sighed. “I know I signed up for all this when I took the job, but Merlin, I never imagined just how stupid people could be.”

“People can be pretty stupid,” Dmitry agreed, thinking of all the things he’d had to try to explain to Malcolm Greengrass over the years. “But often it’s simpler to trick them into thinking you’ve solved the problem than to tell them it doesn’t exist-- could you try giving him a potion bottle full of water and telling him it’s the antidote?”

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delilahxcarrow‌:

Delilah was rarely impulsive. She had never had the chance with an overbearing mother and a husband like Amycus Carrow. 

But for the first time in her life, she felt like she had a freedom to do whatever she wanted without having to answer to anybody, which lead her to Zoe, a tiny Maltese puppy that she adopted approximately three hours ago. When she realized that selling the house was going to take a lot longer than she thought it would, she had decided that she needed some kind of companionship, it was lonely not having anyone in the big house that she was living in. So she got a dog.

And then promptly realized that she had nothing for said puppy, so she went to Diagon Alley, puppy in tow, to try and find some toys and essentials. 

“I have never had a dog before,” Delilah admitted to the first person that came besides her. “I have no idea what i’m supposed to be getting. But…I figured it couldn’t be that hard to figure out, right?” 

“I wouldn’t call myself an expert, but I do have some experience in the matter.” Dmitry smiled at Delilah, though he put a hand in front of Lord Stair before the dog could venture too close in greeting. The dog’s enthusiasm for everyone made that part of training a long and ongoing process, especially after long days in the office or where other dogs were involved.

He remembered when Lord Stair was that small-- years ago now, way back when he’d been living in Russia. If he’d known then how big the dog would become, he might’ve thought twice about getting him used to sleeping on the people bed-- but then again, probably not. “Starting with the basics-- have you picked up food for her yet?”

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juniperthelionheart‌:

Juniper held onto Ringo’s leash as she walked her through the park in Muggle London. She spent most of her time there now, save for work, and she had to admit that there was something rather freeing about being in an area she considered to be mostly free from the Death Eaters. The dog pulled her forward and Juniper tightened her grip; she had no intention of following the dog until she eventually chose to listen. She knew she should have asked Sirius to do this instead. Juniper felt a bit light-headed as she moved forward and she sat down on a bench to gather her bearings, seeing a shadow coming down over her head. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, without looking up. “Did I take your seat?”

Dmitry had finally caught ahold of Lord Stair’s collar, the normally very well behaved dog having decided to take off towards Merlin knew what after too long in the office. When the woman’s dog came into view it made more sense, but even with that and knowing it was his fault for keeping Lord Stair inside too long he couldn’t help being frustrated. 

“Sorry about that,” he replied, giving his best guess as to the woman’s words as he hadn’t had the right angle to read them properly. “I think my mutt just caught sight of yours and... He’s friendly, though, if yours’d like to play?”

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valentinanottt‌:

Considering that their father hadn’t walked free, Valentina was smart enough to figure out that something had happened and her eyebrows scrunched together as she waited to hear just what Dmitry was getting at. Somehow, strangely, even the fact it was his confession didn’t lead Valentina to think it was him, and that was the dumbest Valentina had felt in a long time.

Slouching down further, Valentina very carefully didn’t sigh and instead held her breath as she sipped her drink. She should have been sitting upright and alert, paying attention, but as she thought about their father’s cluttered desk, she mostly felt tired. Dear Merlin, what had Dmitry done?

“Am I suppose to absolve you?” She murmured, not concerned about Dmitry hearing the words as she sat her drink down and slowly shaped them out with her hands. Or imprison you? No one is looking at you in that case, not that I know of. Emotions could be dealt with at a later time. It didn’t matter that Dmitry had apparently sent their father away to prison, that’s where the man was and it had been dealt with, now she needed to make sure Dmitry wasn’t trying to get himself locked up in penance or some other idiocy.

“Not to absolve.” Dmitry didn’t bother speaking anymore, though he wondered whether his signing or his accent was clearer to Valentina. Did she have the same accent as he did? He doubted it, but he didn’t know what other accent she would have. Probably the same as their father, but he didn’t know what that was. Now wasn’t the time to ask. “And I know they’re not investigating me. What I did would cost me my license, but it’s not criminal illegal.”

Not like that had been the first illegal thing Dmitry had ever done, nor the one most frowned upon by society. The job he’d done in Moscow was neatly summarised as lawyer though, and he doubted Valentina had much of an idea of what had really gone on. Or at least, he hoped not. 

He hesitated a second, wondering again if this was really the best way to do things. But Kingsley would hand in anything Dmitry gave him immediately, and there was no way to put this burden on Sofiya. “I’m telling you because I didn’t give you everything, and-- well, if anything happens to me it’s your choice, but if he goes up for appeal or parole it could keep him there forever.”

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kingmeshacklebolt‌:

Kingsley had sought out Dmitry the moment he’d read the papers. Well, no. That wasn’t the full truth. 

The moment he’d read the papers, he’d sworn for two solid minutes and broken several plates. Valentina was never supposed to be the one to get targeted like this. She was Valka, his Valkyrie, his partner. She was supposed to die old and crotchety, and make fun of him at his wedding, end up the vodka aunt to all of his kids. She wasn’t allowed to get arrested. Not for this.

Once he’d finished breaking things then he went to find Dmitry. Someone would probably reach Sofiya first, but not everyone knew Dmitry was deaf and he deserved not to get forced into lip reading during a time like this.

“Dmitry.” He said, bending down to get on his friend’s level. ‘Dmitry. Look at me. Look at me.’ Elrond snuffled Dmitry’s hand, knocking the paper out of it. ‘Breathe. Please.’ Kingsley reached out to put one of Dmitry’s hands over his chest so he could feel the rise and fall of Kingsley’s lungs. ‘Breathe with me please.’

This wasn’t good. This wasn’t something he’d planned for, not in any universe and not under any possibility. Dmitry was the hopeless one, the traitor twice over, the one people were supposed to hate. He should have done better and he knew it, he should be doing better now-- he pushed Kingsley’s hand aside, trying to keep track of too many things at once only making things worse.

Dmitry slid off the couch he was sitting on, pulling Elrond onto his lap as he sat on the floor. Hiding his face in the dog’s dark fur blocked out the world, giving him a minute to try to get himself under control. It was something familiar despite how much bigger Elrond was than Lord Stair; Dmitry had long used the weight of his dog sitting on his lap as a way not to feel so exposed to all the things he feared he was always missing in the world. 

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Valentina, Sofiya, Kingsley

“Two of them know sign language. One doesn’t.”

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Henry, Lily, Laure

“If it came down to it... Henry looks like he might die as it is.”

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Kingsley, Sofiya, Alex

“Sofiya lives, she’s just about the only family I’ve got left at this point. Kingsley tells the story, though I’m sure it’s not going to be the most flattering given the martyr complex we all know he has. Alex, well, I’ve only known him a few weeks. He dies.”

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yuki-yamashita‌:

Maybe she should have introduced herself first.  There were very few people she cared whether they liked her or not, but she wanted Dmitry Nott to like her – he was a gift to humanity, honestly.  She wanted to print tshirts with his face on them.  Rodolphus Lestrange was a god damn menace, and anyone who took the time to remind him of that was a damn champion in her eyes.

“Then I look like I’m copying you,” she protested.  “No, I need to think of something original, honestly.  Some other form of light to not so light maiming.”  She paused.  “You know, hypothetically.  If I were that kind of girl.”  He looked confused and she bit back a laugh.  “I sent myself when I heard what you did.  I brought a taco because honestly it was the only food place I passed from my flat to your office.  I don’t know who Lilya is, but that sounds like a quite poetic thing to send her in a letter.”

Dmitry nodded, understanding the logic in Yuki’s words. Rodolphus would probably learn better from multiple forms of maiming, anyways. He certainly hadn’t seemed to learn much from what Dmitry’d done, but he at least hoped it’d ruined the git’s day. Surely it was impossible to get stabbed without it ruining your day.

“Of course,” he agreed. “I don’t really have many suggests-- except maybe hitting him with a chair-- but you’re welcome to take a Fuck Rodolphus Endowment for the Arts t-shirt while you figure it out. We’ve got in a ton in a box in the lobby.” He’d had to explain those to a number of clients already, but none of them had seemed to mind too much. Apparently the Daily Prophet wasn’t too popular. “In that case, it’s nice to meet you-- any enemy of Rodolphus is a friend of mine.”

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                                                                                                                        August 30, 1980

Dear Lilya,

I’m sorry I haven’t written in a while. I was just thinking-- I should probably write a will, shouldn’t I? Why haven’t I done that already?

I’ll draw something proper up when I’m back at work, I guess. But here it goes, in case I don’t:

Ask the Shacklebolts if Lord Stair can live with the Newfies. They know he’s well behaved, and that way he won’t be lonely. He doesn’t like being alone. 

The Manor goes to Valentina or Sofiya, or to whatever historical trust if neither of them want it. I can’t imagine they would, it’s not a place meant for people to live in. It really would be better off as a museum. 

Lily Evans gets the law practice-- yeah, I know she’s not a lawyer yet, so make arrangements to hire someone on to train her. 

I think that’s everything important? The Manor has so much damn stuff, but who the fuck cares about that stuff. 

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alex-moody-church‌:

They were supposed to go rowing today, but Alex had read the paper this morning and had the sinking feeling that all plans were off. He set down the coffees he’d brought on Dmitry’s desk and sank down into the chair; he’d left St. Mungo’s against healer advice, so he was still exceedingly fragile, although tired of laying in bed all day. 

“It’s not a joke,” Alex signed, expression grave. “I’m sorry.” 

When it looked like Dmitry was starting to panic Alex leapt up and circled around the desk, pressing a hand between Dmitry’s shoulderblades and another on his chest, trying to angle himself so Dmitry could lipread. 

“Hey, hey- Dmitry, breathe,” he said. He pulled one of Dmitry’s hands and pressed it against his own chest so he could feel Alex’s measured breathing. “You can’t help her if you don’t breathe. Come on.”

Dmitry should be better than this. He was a lawyer for Merlin’s sake, it was his job to know what to do when things like this happened. He was the head of the family, it was his job to make sure this never happened to begin with. The problems were so enormous though and he felt so small in comparison, like Jonah swallowed whole by the whale. He had to do something, but he had no idea where to start.

He did his best to focus on the things he could feel-- Lord Stair brushing against him, the dog having shoved his way between Dmitry and Alex, and Alex’s hands doing.. something? He looked up when Alex moved his hand, catching the end of his sentence.

Breathing, that was something he could do. Probably. He counted it out in his head, the same as how his aunt had taught him to keep himself under control when he was about to put a fist through drywall.

He pulled his hand back in order to sign, his words clipped and somewhat shaky. “I was trying to protect Sofiya, I didn’t even think...” But that was something he couldn’t go into; Alex wouldn’t understand even if Dmitry was willing to tell that secret. “Does Moody know?”

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“That joke’s not funny,” Dmitry grumbled, snatching the newspaper to check the headline for himself. Except there it was in solid bold print, ‘Auror Accused of Death Eater Activities’, and what was there to say? Valentina was the ex-fiancée of a terrorist and daughter of another; who was going to believe anything he could say?

Merlin, this was his fault, wasn’t it? If he hadn’t sold out their father, Valen’ka would have a lot more of a fair chance. If he’d tried at all when it came to Ari, maybe suspicion wouldn’t have fallen on her. They’d been guilty, sure as the sun rising tomorrow morning, but guilty and convicted were too different things.

He shoved the paper aside, trying and failing to keep himself under control. It was his damn fault for trying to play God, and Valentina was the one paying the price. His fault, of course it was his fucking fault-- the thoughts were starting to circle and get away from him, threatening to block out everything else. “No--” he started, trying to get out some form of words despite the way his chest felt like he couldn’t get enough air.