sethosflint

[sethosflint]

Sethos’ face lit up with something close to reverence, his hand brushing along the polished handle of the broom. “Exactly,” he said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s not just a tool, it’s a companion. You feel the difference in every turn, every dive. A good broom doesn’t fight you, it moves with you.”

He glanced sideways at Frank. “You can always tell when someone appreciates the craftsmanship. It’s more than just flying, it’s the feeling of control, of trust. Like riding instinct.” With a thoughtful hum, he continued, “Some of these old models? They’ve got soul. You can’t buy that anymore.” He looked from the broom to the wizard. "Here, you should buy it."

“It’s in such good condition, I bet it still flies like it’s new.” Frank had considered becoming a pro Quidditch player once. He’d never really been good enough to make it anywhere serious, but he enjoyed the game. He liked flying.

“There’s craftsmanship to it. Players can be good without a good broom of course, but there’s something about a good broom that can’t be beat. It’s like a work of art.”

[sethosflint]

"Then it’s settled, you’ll come for dinner." His tone left no room for argument, warm but firm. The last thing he wanted was for Lydia to feel anything less than welcome. "I’ll send an owl with the details, but let’s do it soon."

His gaze drifted across the room until it landed on Emma, drawing his focus momentarily before turning back to his sister. "And if he’s anything less than respectful," he added, voice lowering with protective weight, "he’ll answer to me." Sethos blinked in mild surprise at her mention of Bulgaria. "Yes, of course, if that’s what you want. I’ll likely head there in a week to check on Mum."

"Lyds," he said gently, placing a quick kiss on the top of her head, "you’ll have to excuse me, I need to get back to Emma." He offered her a smile, one laced with affection. "We’ll catch up properly soon." With that, he slipped into the crowd, leaving the promise lingering behind him.

"Yes please, I'd love to come for dinner." Lydia bounced on her heels, excited. She had missed family dinners. Well more accurately she missed sibling dinners, and sometimes their mothers could come too. It made it feel like they were really family, something permanent, something that couldn't get taken away.

"If I told you, then he wouldn't be a mystery. But he's nice to me." And she told him, there was a chance a painting or something would tell her step-father. That would not go well. "Do you think I could go with you some time, to Bulgaria? To see what it's like? She is? Oh, wonderful."

[sethosflint]

Sethos had been away for some time, and upon returning to London, he wandered the streets, taking in the aftermath with his own eyes. The damage was worse than he imagined. A quiet guilt tugged at him, he knew where he stood, the choices he’d made. They weren’t born of belief, but of protection, for his sister, and now, for the family he was building. He could never say it aloud, but he didn’t fully agree with the side he’d chosen.

“There are areas worse off than others,” he said quietly, glancing over at the stranger. “I’ve only just returned to London myself.”

where; diagon alley whomst; open

Flick hadn't been out much since her return -- first she'd been uncomfortably pregnant and then she'd had a newborn. Now, with her son down for a nap and 'grandparent time', Flick could finally explore. Nothing looked the same. So many stores had shuttered or been damaged. Had it really only been a year? How bad had things gotten in just one year?

"Is it really like this everywhere? Merlin I wasn't gone that long."

[sethosflint]

[sethosflint]

Sethos gave a deep chuckle as he leaned in to press a kiss to her temple. Her hand was still in his, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. “A son,” he repeated, the words still tasting new and incredible on his tongue. “You’re right, one and done. Perfect from the start.”

He let the thought settle in for a moment, picturing their future. “First broom?” he echoed with a grin. “If I have way, the moment he can sit up on his own, I’ll have him on one. Maybe not flying yet, but he’ll know what a good handle feels like.” He tilted his head toward her. “Think we’ll be able to agree on a model? Or is this going to be our first real parenting argument?”

They were having a boy.

Despite not being the overly emotional sort she did feel a few tears well up in her eyes as she squeezed his hand back. She would fully blame it on pregnancy hormones. While she had trouble wrapping her head around this change before, it was starting to settle in now. To feel real, now that they knew the gender.

"It seems that when we do something, we do it right the first time." A son meant they'd have an heir. They didn't need more kids. Perhaps in a couple of years when she was retired they would think of another, but for now she was content with having one. "When do you think we can get him his first broom?"

[sethosflint]

Sethos let out a short snort of laughter. He knew plenty of high-profile Quidditch players who had assistants for everything, but his mum had made sure he never got that full of himself.

“There are some things I like to do for myself,” he said with a shrug, his tone casual but firm. “Emma’s about the only other person I’d trust to pick out a broom anyway.”

His grin widened as he caught Beck’s tease. “Well, I’d hate to disappoint a fan… especially one who had galleons riding on the match.” He chuckled. “And if you’re actually thinking of taking up broom collecting, I’m your guy. It’s one of the few things I hoard shamelessly.”

At the mention of the news, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks. I’m excited—really excited. Emma too. Though between us, I know it’s killing her to be off the pitch. Sitting out the rest of the season isn’t easy for someone like her.”

"Figured you'd have someone to fetch your own by now, you know," Beck teased, the corner of his mouth just hinting at a smile. They'd never actually crossed paths at school—Sethos was a few years up and over at Durmstrang—but Emma's friends were always an immediate extension of his own. "Caught one of your recent games, by the way. Glad you won, or my entire day would've been shot. Me? Oh I'm doing okay, I guess. Just busy. Trying to expand my hobbies beyond just, well, work," he admitted with a wry grin, glancing at the broom in question. "But enough about me, what about you. Congratulations, I heard the good news."

[sethosflint]

Sethos chuckled, the corners of his mouth quirking up with amusement. “Not a salesman,” he said, glancing back at the broom like it was an old friend. “Just a bit obsessed.”

He stepped closer, fingers twitching like he was itching to hold it. “I collect brooms, rare ones, prototypes, even the cursed kind if the story’s good enough. But this…” He let out a low whistle. “This is the kind of broom you build a whole collection around.”

Then, with a shrug, he added, “Wouldn’t dare take it on the pitch. It’s earned its rest.” He looked back at Tiberius. “But taking it home? Yeah. I think I just might.” A beat. "Unless, you want it."

Tiberius straightened from admiring the broom, his eyebrow arched when the other wizard went on about the broom as if he was reading straight from a brochure. It was truly impressive. Then again, he recognized the man as the quidditch player that he was. Of course the man would know his brooms. “Sure you’re not a broom salesman?” He joked, looking between him and the broom once more. “This thing ought to be in a museum, not sitting in a shop where anyone could get their hands on it.” The again he doubted anyone but those who appreciated the broom would bother with it or know the significance.

“Plan on taking it home with you?” He mused. “Reckon it wouldn’t be good on the field anymore but it is a beauty.”

[sethosflint]

Oh his smile 😅

He is genuinely so gorgeous 😱🤭🐞

[sethosflint]

Sethos let out a low chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced at the broom between them. “Merlin, she has to be from the forties.” he spoke factually, though there was a touch of appreciation in his tone. “But yeah—she’s a beauty.”

He looked back at Frank, a flicker of something more sincere in his expression. Most times Sethos forgot what he did for a living. "You don't meet many who appreciate the beauty of a broom."

Frank knew, objectively, that Quidditch players were in fact just normal ass people that happened to be good at sports. He knew this. But like. Sethos Flint was talking to him. He gave himself one moment to freak out internally before schooling himself into something far more normal.

"Ha, I'd be honored. It's just a gorgeous piece of work. Please, it definitely should go to someone who would use it more. Like it deserves."

[sethosflint]

The last time Sethos had seen Beck was at the Selwyn wedding, not that he’d managed to speak with everyone amidst the chaos. Tilting his head slightly, a coy smirk tugged at his lips. There was no need to bring up the room he and Emma kept at the manor, filled with the brooms they’d collected over the years. They could’ve opened a museum by now.

“What’s one more?” he laughed lightly, then added with a warmer note, “How’ve you been, Beck?”

Though he still had an injury that wounded much more than the surface level of skin, Beck craved to be in the air again, even if it were only for recreational purposes. There weren't any opponents who were out for winning house points like they were out for blood. Beck was mostly window shopping inside the store, taking stock of what they had. As he wasn't a professional, he didn't need all the bells and whistles. That said, he reached for one of the few brooms left. "It seems that way, doesn't it?" he grins at his old friend. "Thought you would have enough of these lying around."

[sethosflint]

Sethos accepted the drink with a nod of thanks, his brow lifting slightly at Evan's smirk. He took a sip before replying, the edge of amusement tugging at his mouth. "Ah, living up to your reputation then." His tone was light, teasing. . “Glad to hear you’re having fun, though I’m not sure if I should congratulate you or send you a sleeping draught.”

He leaned an elbow casually on the counter, giving Evan a side glance. "And as for being a dad… well, I'm sure I’ll get used to never sleeping. At least this time the crying will be expected." A dry chuckle followed, his expression softening. “Honestly, though, I’m looking forward to it. All of it.”

[sethosflint]

where: St. Mungo's who: @emmaflint A boy.

Sethos stood still for a moment, letting the weight of the words sink in. His gaze lifted to the screen, where the soft, shifting image of their son was tucked safely within Emma’s womb. He gently squeezed her fingers, then leaned down to press a tender kiss to her forehead.

The technician quietly stepped out, giving them a moment of privacy as Emma adjusted her dress, the appointment now complete.

“A son,” Sethos repeated, his voice filled with quiet wonder and a growing smile spreading across his face. “I don’t think this day could possibly get any better.”

[sethosflint]

Sethos paused, eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to put a name to the face. Nothing came. London had never truly felt like home, until now, maybe. “It is,” he said, though his attention had already shifted. His gaze drifted to the broom nearby, and he stepped closer, curiosity sparked.

He studied it with a practiced eye. “That’s an old model… looks like a Starfire Mark II, if I’m not mistaken. Mid-40s, maybe earlier. Pre-Comet era, definitely before Cleansweeps took off.” He crouched slightly, fingers hovering just above the worn handle. “They were built more for endurance than speed. Handcrafted bristle binding, no automatic stabilizer charms, just pure balance and a good sense of direction. Bit stiff on corners, but solid fliers in their day.”

There was a quiet fondness in his voice, a glimmer of respect. Magical brooms had always intrigued him, not just for their function, but for their history.

Tiberius had gone to Diagon Alley to pick up some items that were needed at home, hoping to get his tasks finished before Cressida got home from work. When he found himself with additional time after getting everything else, he couldn't help himself as he stepped into the broom shop. He certainly didn't need one, however if he and Anthony were to start a league it would be necessary to get a broom. Not to mention these would be more affordable than the new models.

He studied each broom he came across, debating which would be the best option. He spotted the vintage broom and let out a low whistle as he reached for it. He paused as the man next to him spoke and he chuckled, nodding. "It is a gorgeous broom. Perhaps too nice to even ride."

[sethosflint]

Sethos chuckled under his breath, shaking his head at her pout. “You say that like I had a master plan,” he teased, stepping closer and letting his hand rest lightly at the small of her back. “You think I wouldn't have picked a better month? Preferably one where your heels didn’t make you want to murder me?”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against her temple in a rare, tender gesture. “We’ll handle it. One month at a time, one step at a time, just like always.”

When she winced and mentioned the massage, he raised a brow, lips tugging into a grin. “Ah, so now you want these hands?” he asked, mock-offended. “Demanding, aren’t we?”

He reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers as he gently tugged her toward the nearest apparation point. “Come on then. Let’s go home. You can complain about your heels in comfort, preferably while I’m helping you out of them.”

END

"I am not claiming that I was." She commented loftly, shrugging her shoulders. Emma had quite enjoyed herself, she always did with him. He knew her body better than anyone. Still the timing was inconvenient and she felt uncomfortable in her heels, something that never used to bother her. "I would've preferred for it to happen a few months-' or years, '-later. That's all." She pouted. Of course a part of her was excited, but she was also a bit scared, it was a huge change. Trying to roll her head from side to side as her neck was getting stiff, she winced. "I feel like I am in desperate need of a massage so hands to yourself until we get home and then I want them all over me."

[sethosflint]

There was something light and effortlessly kind about Lydia that tugged at the older brother instinct in him, protective, steady. It was a role he naturally stepped into, not just with her, but with all his sisters. Their father might have been a bastard, but the one good thing he’d given them was each other.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said with a small nod. “You should come over for dinner one night. I’ll check if Val’s free too.” Just because things were complicated with their father didn’t mean he had to lose the people who mattered.

His brow quirked at the mention of a guy. “Oh? And who’s this mystery man?” He gave her a knowing look, teasing but curious. “Bulgaria was nice,” he added after a pause. “It’ll always be home.” He took a slow sip of his drink, then glanced her way. “Emma’s good, by the way.” He wasn't entirely sure if the news had been shared with her.

Lydia beamed back at him, unable to help herself. Every time he gave her any sort of positive attention it felt like a gift. She’d been so excited about getting siblings when she was younger and the novelty of it all never quite wore off.

“We can plan it during one of Marcus’s meeting if you want, so you don’t have to see him.” She offered. It was definitely trick she’d used in the past. “I’ve been okay. I like my job, maybe I’ll even keep it. And I’ve met a really nice guy. How was Bulgaria? How’s Emma?”

[sethosflint]

[sethosflint]

where: 2nd Hand Brooms - Diagon Alley who: open

Sethos had a long-standing obsession with brooms, partly from his days as a Quidditch player, but mostly because he found something endlessly fascinating in their craftsmanship and the history woven into each handle and bristle. Whenever he had a spare moment, he wandered into secondhand shops, always on the lookout for hidden gems.

Today was no different. His fingers stretched out toward a vintage broom, just as someone else reached for it, their hands nearly brushing. “It seems we both have excellent taste,” he said with a wry smile, turning to see who had beaten him to it by a second.