#( 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐀 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐋 ) ━━━ * convos !

[volatiicus]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  the leaky cauldron, diagon alley  ! 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  :  @astrcphe​​  /  henri catchlove chosen for the underutilised ‘borgins are only on the tree rn because keira and henri hooked up or smth’ point, but you can choose otherwise if you want  !

it’s not the walking into them that causes issue, really. it could happen to anyone, especially on a busy december day ; everyone is rushing one way or the other and keira is no different, paper shopping bags clutched in both hands as she makes her way down the alley, desperate to get to a leaky cauldron booth before the weakening handles actually break. she has to juggle them to open the door to begin with, but it takes so long that she leaves herself susceptible to something just like that happening - which, of course, it does. door gets pushed from the other side before she can get a proper grip on it and slams into her, earning a surprised oomph and causing one of the more overfilled bags to spill across the step and cobbles. go figure. keira crouches to gather her stuff before it can be trodded on and looks up to make her apologies - realising who’s day she has interfered with as the real issue ( if strategically placed white berries are considered such ) becomes apparent, gloomy as she announces, “this would be my luck beneath mistletoe, wouldn’t it ?” 

[volatiicus]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  knox’s flower store  ! 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  :  @kxbellem​  !

"i don’t really have the room for a christmas tree,” she insists, though it’s a little bit of a fib. there’s no good reason for that ; telling the truth of her destructive cat and the real life tree he had knocked into a roommates priceless crystal collection last year would probably earn a laugh more than it would judgement, but keira can’t help but think it ten times MORE mortifying than her little white lie. her commitment to the bit is definitely commendable, but somehow, she’s more uncomfortable in this twist of the truth than she is with far, far worse ones. “but i’d like some kind of ... shrub. a small one. that i can put some tinsel and baubles on, you know ? do you have anything that’d look halfway decent, like that ?” 

[volatiicus]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  commoratio alley, london  !

she’s not actually going to be able to unlock her front door. even if her arm was long enough to reach the deadlatch, the thin slot her mail gets pushed through doesn’t provide nearly enough give for her to grab the little handle and pull it down, and she knows she’s nowhere close even as she desperately pushes herself against the wood and tries. she’ll be lucky if she doesn’t get STUCK there, but she can’t do nothing when her cat sits on the bottom step inside and yowls as if his life depends on it, surely playing up his hunger but with such conviction she half believes him. she cuts a rather pathetic picture to passersby, and the keen awareness of that - and the sinking, hopeless feeling the more she struggles - combines unpleasantly as she begins venting that on them, muttering beneath her breath as she continues to try reach her lock, “just keep walking- totally fine, here- it’s not as if it’s life or death or anything- you bastards-” 

[volatiicus]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  the circle, tutshill racecourse  ! 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  :  @cvriousheart​  !

"are you here in a journalistic capacity?” most ex ravenclaws are familiar to her, at this stage. if she hadn’t met them during her hogwarts years, there had been plenty of time to get to know them after - memorials and events where their circles overlapped, therapy for some and in their case, the few times over the past eight years where the prophet had shown interest in seeing where she was now. if it wasn’t in the lead up to may, it was usually when there was a lull in actual news. keira had been to the offices more times than she could count, enough to know their name & face beyond the sybill trelawney connection that had stunned them way back when, though she’d only provided an update to her story once. that was for the better. “i heard you’re writing gossip columns, now,” she’s not judging. merlin knew she had no right, and her interest is genuine when she asks, “would you find much of it at something like this?” 

[volatiicus]

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃  :  you  don’t  need  to  justify  it.  again,  i  do  it  all  the  time. 𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙱𝚈  :  @hoggleswart​​​  /  millicent  bulstrode  !

"  ...  i  doubt  it.  ”  she  takes  just  the  one  look  at  them  before  she  decrees  that  absolutely  impossible,  not  because  she  thinks  herself  that  singular,  in  this  world,  but  because  she  cannot  imagine  someone  so  effortlessly  styled  sharing  any  trait  with  her  at  all.  it’s  self  deprecating  in  origin,  and  keira  is  made  further  uncomfortable  by  her  own  dragging  of  this  into  the  light.  “  you  don’t  have  to  lie  to  make  me  feel  better,  ”  she  speaks  from  her  high  horse,  as  if  a  lie  was  the  worst  thing  in  the  world  &  had  never  ONCE  crossed  her  own  lips,  “  it  won’t  bother  me.  ”

[volatiicus]

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃  :  oh no, i knew it. you hate me now. 𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙱𝚈  :  @qviddiitch​​  /  oliver wood  ! 

“what?” they’re not even trying to be rude, when it happens ; head snaps up and question tumbles out of their mouth before they’re even aware they’re putting voice to that little rush of vicious annoyance. it’s not their proudest moment, obvious enough in the way that their initially narrowed eyes widen as they become aware of their own fury and the grip on their book that had so immediately tightened loosens up, again. they can’t believe he’s still there, whittling away whatever minutes of boredom he has. or they can, but they can’t believe he’s still attempting to do that through conversation with them. it’s not the first interruption, but it’s the first time that keira takes a deep breath and attempts to level themself before they say, evenly, “why would i hate you? i don’t even know you.” 

[volatiicus]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  the circle, tutshill racecourse  ! 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  :  @tempcsted​ / @ddudleys​  !

"i heard one of them-” six men in four piece suits complete with pocket watches and out of place cigars; they’re not really flying under the radar even without the subtle jut of keira’s chin in their direction, but she avoids drawing their attention onto herself quite successfully, “say that minister’s logic is going to win the next race. he’s got it on good authority, too, if you believe in seers.” she’s not so sure that she does, but any help with the bookmakers went a long way. she’d have never offered the tip if she wasn’t fully on board with it, herself, and she’s already placed her ( potentially misguided ) bet on the hippogriff in question. with minutes to go before they kick off and her excitement slowly building, the giving of it feels like it could be her good deed of the day. “i figure the more that know, the more’ll benefit. why should the suited and booted get everything?”

[volatiicus]

tag dump !