#(alice currently doing the same with kingsley for frank)

[enbysiriusblack]

"Black", Frank nodded.

Narcissa glanced to him, "What?"

Frank folded his arms, leaning against the corridor wall, "Coming to the party tonight?"

"Yes."

Frank smirked, "Great. Alice is gonna be happy."

Narcissa sent him a small glare, "Emma asked me to, her ex is going to be there. I'm only going for her."

Frank nodded, hands up in defence, "Sure. We'll see you there then."

She huffed, turning away, "We're not friends, Longbottom!"

He grinned, "I'll see you later, Black."

[spiltscribbles]

Prompt: Pro Athlete Sirius because that my and Remus' kink

~Notes: OMFG VICTOrIA!!!! I FUCKING SCREECHED!!!! lkadfjlaksdgjoiaejfalskdgjioeugisfkldshg Yes tis my kink as well!!! And then I saw this from Nonny and worlds collided and BOOM! I hope you like this my love<3<3 You incredibly talented sugarplum!!! TBH I want to write a thousand more things in this AU XD

.-

FROM THIS LIST  |  Send Me A Prompt!💜 | A REBLOG MEANS THE GALAXY!!💜

.-

When Remus was young— surrounded by the light breeze of the Welsh coast and the harmony of birds chirping in the distance— he would follow his mother to their small garden behind their cottage  at the cusp of twilight as his father cooked their supper, and he’d watch as she laid flat all sorts of newspapers written in French and Arabic and English, watch as she brought her red pen against the ink and marked the articles with underlines and shorthand he wouldn’t understand for years still.

He asked her once, when he was barely eight years old, why she bothered to keep up with so many different publications, why she read the same story penned by countless perspectives when all the facts stayed the same at the end of the day. And he remembers how she had let out a quick, shrill of a laugh, tossing back her golden head while sucking in a puff from the bubbling hookah she had set up besides her— a habit she acquired from her Algerian, refugee parents, and one that became synonymous to those late nights in Remus’s eyes.

“Facts can be wielded to someone’s personal vendettas, Remus John,” she had crooned in that adoring way of hers whenever she spoke to him— honey eyes that were the same color and shape to Remus’s own flashing alight and their matching smiles going crooked in her stunningly beautiful face. 

“Oh.” Remus had replied, still confused as all get out but was perfectly fine with just holding his small vigil, watching her beneath moonlight and the soft glow of their outdoors lamps, as he listened to the shuffling of papers while she commenced this odd quirk. 

It’s a decade and a half later—  as his editor for the Phoenix, a small, but bustling online editorial that plans on dethroning the likes of Politico and Vox in only a matter of years, scans his latest findings on the corrupt boosters linked to MP Avery from Leeds— when Remus thinks he suddenly understands what his mother, with her keen eyes and pixelated air, had meant by facts in how they can be colored differently simply by the words surrounding them. And he wonders if one day soon, one of his bylines will join her little stack of stories, if she’ll be proud of him even if she says as much even now, when he’s a lost twenty-something stumbling through life in the capitol and barely making it as is, between his actual job and the gig he has at the coffee shop nearest his dingy flat he shares with three other blokes.

“Mmm, this is good, Lupin,” Dorcas declares after what feels like an eon, dropping her long, dark legs from where they were lounging leisurely on her desk and scuffs out her cigarette in a pretty, glass ashtray. “Send it over to Flores to look into deeper, maybe it’ll corroborate the info she’s already gotten from her sources.”

Remus feels himself bristle, hopes that it doesn’t show, that his face stays passive as he contends, “I think I should at least help her write the expose, I’m the one who got this bombshell.”

“That’s not how it works, sweets,” Dorcas toots, tossing back her dark head of curls as she rises, perching on the corner of her desk delicately and looking down, straight into his gaze. “I know it’s frustrating, but you’re fresh blood. barely six months here, but Alice has been with us for years. This is her baby, and we’re just here to nurture it.”

“So I’ll have to wait another ten months, at least,  to get the same treatment?” He argues in an admittedly petulant way, making Dorcas laugh endearingly, and Remus is suddenly,  searingly reminded of his age, and how he’s the youngest staffer that this London based news outlet has on hand. 

“C’mon, love, it won’t be that long for someone as sharp as you, just be patient, and don’t try to pull a Zoe Barnes on us, yeah? You’re far too pretty to clean up on the rails of  the tube.” Dorcas tousles a hand into his dark tawny curls, and Remus holds back the roll to his eyes that he feels willing up inside of him as he stands fully.

“Thanks Cas.”

She smiles beatifically, and throws him a wink. “You’re joining Emmy for the report tomorrow on those United footballers and their fundraiser for the hospital, yeah?”

“Bright and early,” Remus replies, still feels a bit miffed that he was chosen to write up the charity function, considering he doesn’t know a lick about football and doesn’t really get on with anyone who does. But Caradoc— their typical sports reporter— is out sick with the flew, so it’s on him. “I’ll have it on your desk early enough so it’ll be published by tea time.”

“Good man,” Dorcas says in thanks, picking up her crowing cellphone before waving him off.

Remus isn’t all that surprised when he strides out of the office only to find Benjy Fenwick sitting against the opposite wall, knees pressed to his chest and quickly scrambling up when he catches sight of Remus. Sometimes it’s impossible to believe that the bespectacled man in front of him is one of the top editors for the Phoenix, that he’s a regular corespondent for places like the BBC or CNN— that his rebukes against the piss poor inquiries waged during PMQs have become more anticipated than the sessions themselves. Remus tends to forget all of that when he sees him like this, messy haired and wearing a graphic T-shirt with some marvel superhero embossed on the front. “Wotcher Remus.”

“Hiya Remus says, smiling softly and rocking back on his heels. “You wanted to talk to the sergeant then?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I didn’t want to talk to Dorcas, I just— Erm, I know you were showing her that stuff you got from that intern, Pettigrew, and i know you were chafed about not getting any opportunity here so—“ He trails off, scratching the back of his head and studying a point over Remus’s shoulder, and it’s all too endearing, and Remus is so beyond thankful he’s made such a good friend here.

“No cigar,” he says in answer to the unspoken question, shrugging noncommittally even if he feels like shit over it.

Benjy nods, face contrite in a way that tells Remus he never thought it would’ve went otherwise. “I’m sorry, that’s bollocks.”

“’S whatever,” Remus shrugs off the apology, begins walking down the hall and straightening his report to hand over to Alice. 

“Ah,, erm. We can get a drink, yeah? In commiseration,” Benjy offers, and Remus stilts only for a beat before continuing the twisting trail to where Alice is set up with the more senior members on staff. And he feels only sorta bad about wanting to refuse. He knows that if he says yes, it’ll mean something different to Benjy than it does him, that he’ll probably take it as Remus finally giving into his pestering and deciding to actually go out with him, even if he’s refuted the other four times he’s asked as much. Remus’s simply just too busy trying to get a footing in this city, and trying to figure out where he’s suppose to go from here, and what he’s suppose to do. And yes, Benjy is cute— a complete Seth Cohen archetype. And he’s sweet and smart and funny enough. But Remus is really not in the mood for doing the whole flowers and wine and candle lit dinners shtick, had gotten enough of that while still with his university boyfriend. And yeah, he’s only just turned 24, but he already feels too old and too jaded for that sort of puppy love— even if Benjy’s got a good decade and some change on him.

Probably sensing his hesitation, Benjy is quick to rectify the offer. “I’ll ask Mary, and Fabian too, and a few others. We can make a night of it, just some drinks on a Friday after work.”

Stalling by the last turn to Alice’s desk, Remus looks at him from over his shoulder, and sort of hates himself for being such a soft hearted fuck sometimes. “Yeah Benj, sounds nice. Just let me know on the group chat, yeah?”

Benjy grins, much more genuine than his awkward quirk of the lips from earlier. “Yeah, good call, I’ll let the others know pronto.”

“Aces,” Remus says, tosses him a obligatory thumbs-up before finding an expectant looking Alice who’s tapping her foot impatiently.

Yeah, today is so bloody shit.

.-

Surprisingly, the round of drinks turns to another and then a third and fourth and Remus is currently nursing his fifth mango margarita on Benjy’s tab, and he actually feels lighter than he has since taking the job at Phoenix, feels bright and bubbling and like absolutely nothing could be wrong as long as he’s got this drink in his grasp and he’s sitting with the handful of reporters and photographers from the office that don’t all have sticks up their asses. It’s fun, it’s good. So obviously it couldn’t have lasted.

Mary is currently cackling about her Uber driver from last night who asked her all sorts of well meaning, but incredibly dense questions about her hijab— a freshly poured glass of coke in one hand, while the other is tangled into her girlfriend Emmy’s. And From his left Remus can hear Fabian ribbing Frank on his crush on Alice, while Benjy scoots intermittently closer as they watch Kingsley and Marlene sparring over something to do with a Kardashian or TikTok trend or whatever the fuck else— The guy has resilience, Remus has to give Benjy that.

“Right, who’s buying next?” Marlene asks, abrasive as ever while scrolling through her phone, ostensively finding something to prove her point against the managing editor.

“Reckon it’s my turn,” Benjy crows, standing up smoothly and glancing down at Remus with a nervous sort of half grin.

“Just a water for me, ta. I need to sober up,” Remus tells him, feels proud that he didn’t even slur slightly. Benjy bobs his head understandingly, and Remus turns to ask Marlene about her latest tinder hookup which always is a good laugh, but then he catches on it. On the sound of the pub’s doors flinging open, followed by a raucous crowd of athletic looking guys probably only a bit older than he is, clambering indoors. 

They’re all so very sixth-form, broad grins and slapping each other’s shoulders with jeers, topped off with loud, bark like laughter that makes it obvious to Remus that these wankers think that they’re some sort of group of gods amongst men, roaming around like everyone should fall to their feet and offer everything they have. It makes Remus roll his eyes so far back that it feels like he might’ve sprained them. They just give off this exhausting aura that reminds him of a past boyfriend in tenth year who was on the footie team and who’s favorite activity was either making Remus feel lucky enough to go out with someone so popular, or dragging him around like some sort of bloody trophy.

To put it nicely, Remus sorta hates them on sight. So when he sees one of the tossers— regrettably the brightest of the lot who’s all pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste in an objectively infuriating matter— swivels up to the barkeep and jostles Benjy on his way, well Remus doesn’t hesitate to dart forwards to tell him off.

“Oi, watch where you’re going, yeah?”

Benjy and the bloke who looks like he might moonlight as a model for Calvin briefs for when he’s not lounging in a yacht off the Tuscany coast, both turn to him at the same time. Benjy looking abashed, and the aforementioned tosser preening like the cat who’s just caught a canary.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t see you there,” he says in a delightfully deep tenner, giving Remus an appreciative once over, and Remus absolutely despises how the action makes him feel both thrilled and irritated. “Trust and believe, I wouldn’t have looked away if I saw you.”

“Not me, arse.” Remus spits back, refuses to pay any credence to how his cheeks have begun to flush. “You bumped into my mate right there, the one with the tray of loggers.”

The tosser darts his almost molten gray eyes over to Benjy for a sparing second before he laser focusses back onto Remus, the most phony expression of contrition all over his face. “Sorry to your friend,” he says the descriptor like a joke that no one else is in on. “Let me buy you a drink in sorry for the one I made slim here spill.”

Remus is officially unimpressed, hopes that his flat tone gets it across. “You’re an arse.”

“You’re mouthy,” he retorts, looks like it’s something he greatly appreciates— delights over even. 

“Ah, ’s fine Remus, really. I’ll just bring these back and get us a new glass.”

“Listen to slim, Remus, he’s got the right idea.” The tosser hurriedly interjects, strutting close enough to him that he makes it so Remus has to tip his head back just slightly so not to drop his gaze. “I’m Black, Sirius Black, just to get the pleasantries out of the way.” His leer tells Remus that the name should probably evoke some response of aw into Remus, but all it does is make him sound so egregiously pretentious that Remus wants to smack his own bloody head against a dry wall and stay in the hole until this ruddy Sirius bloke leaves him the hell alone.

“Good for you,” he says instead of all of that, and spots Sirius’s friends from behind Sirius chuckling and elbowing one another. Evidently this is a line the tosser uses frequently, and Remus is pleased that he might be one of the first who aren’t at all impressed by the grandiose way he introduced himself.

“Hah, you know I’m use to the pretty ones playing hard to get, but I’m really feeling here that you’re not exactly liking my company, love.”

Remus sucks in a frustrated breath through his nose, shouldering past Sirius and taking the tray of drinks from Benjy before storming back to their table where the others have begun openly gawping at the scene— Marlene outright squawking with Fabian just as Remus takes his seat.

“Don’t,” Remus warns them all as he silently says fuck off to the water and instead gargles down one of the loggers. And if he has to steadfastly not turn around for the rest of the night towards where he can feel Sirius’s gaze burning into his back— well then so be it.

.-

The next morning, Remus has to puke twice into the toilet, and gulps down three aspirins just to stave off his bloody hangover from the night before where he decided that getting properly sloshed would prove as a good technique to not end up making out with Sirius in some dark corner— or regrettably the backseat of his car. And if he does still remember flashes of ranting to him about how insufferable preppy, rich boys actually are while Sirius gazed at him endeared— well Remus just decides to purge it out along with the stomach acid. It’s not like he’ll ever see the douche again.

.-

He meets Arthur— one of the accountants who also helps out by taking photos for more low key news stories— outside the hospital where the conference will be taking place with the Manchester United team. There was a scrimmage that they all played with some of the kids in the cancer ward that occurred at around eight in the ruddy morning, but thankfully Remus didn’t have to show up until an hour later when the team presented their big shiny check, to the big, shiny hospital. 

However, Arthur has been here for hours, so he’s beyond chirpy and looks like he’s downed three cups of espresso as he chatters on about his son Percy starting secondary school, and his eldest, Bill, getting an award for his reading prowess, and all the strange craving his wife has been having throughout her pregnancy with the twins they’re expecting any week now. And Remus loves Arthur, he does— one of the sweetest folks he’s ever met— but God, his head is still thrumming from those misguided tequila shots and he really just wants to get his three quotes, and write up the story so he can find refuge back in his sheets.

While Arthur has moved to talking about his wife, Molly’s, plans to open up a daycare in their refurnished garage, Remus scans his eyes over the familiar face of reporters from other outlets who look just as bored as him, and then to the stage where a woman in a sharply pressed suit is ushering for the group of football stars to join her, so that the conference can finally fucking begin. 

And Remus thinks that their faces are sorta familiar, probably from all the publicity they get on the telly— but then he freezes as he stops at one of them with dark brown skin, and thick rimmed spectacles— and he suddenly can hear him chatting about his redheaded girlfriend and drunkenly declaring that she’ll be the mother of his children some day soon. So he completely expects it when his stomach drops as he moves his glance just a bit to the right, being struck by pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste, made all the more infuriating by the tight kit he’s got on and the blazing number twelve splayed against his chest.

And fuck.

Remus runs through about a dozen scenarios in which he can make a discrete, or not so discrete exit before he notices him, but in tandem to his spiraling thoughts, the wanker actually looks forwards, and like a creepy metal detector, his quick silver gaze pinpoints onto Remus.

They stare at one another for a beat before his smirk goes wolfish, and he runs a hand through his artfully tousled hair in a way that practically screams, fancy meeting you here. And holy fuck he looks so mouth watteringly attractive with that faint film of sweat running down his neck, and how his smile pulls slightly more to the left, and how he’s looking at Remus like he’s his birthday and Christmas presents all rolled into one.

Remus suddenly hates everything— but most of all hates Sirius, and how bloody fit he is.

“Oh, you’re a fan then?” 

Starting, Remus shifts around slightly so that he’s facing Arthur completely. “Pardon?”

“Sirius Black I mean, you’re a fan?” Arthur asks in that abrasively congenial and intensely scrutinizing way that he treats everything. “I mean he’s a great player, but I know you don’t really watch. So I bet it’s all that charity work he does, yeah?”

“Charity work?” Remus echos, feeling like a floundering fish.

“Truly some amazing stuff.” Arthur pontificates, rubbing a hand against his jaw as he tips his head back. “I mean obviously I’m partial to the fundraising for Reporters Without Borders, but of course the things he does with the more impoverished kids is great. And I know Molly likes his very outspoken posts about being anti war and his annual live streams to earn money for refugees in those war torn nations, like the last one he did for Syria?”

“Oh—“ Remus says, feeling like his head is being overrun by a fountain of new information.

“Yes well, you don’t usually see athletes get into the thick of it with political issues, but I reckon he never really minded. I mean the fact he’s the first football star from United to have come out without any fanfare really proved that. Oh, I think they’re starting, I should probably get some photos before Dorcas gives me a tongue lashing.”

And as quick as the flash of his camera’s lends, Arthur is using his considerable height to get to a more advantageous spot towards the front, and leaves Remus in the dust, as if he hasn’t just obliterated his every assumption of Sirius from after that initial meeting.

And unbidden, the words his mother had told him so many years ago, about facts and how they can color a situation just simply based off the person who’s speaking them— flood to the forefront of his mind.

“Fucking hell,” Remus mutters lowly, gets jostled by Greengrass, a hawkish reporter from a rivaling publication who always has on the most wickedly sharp acrylic nails, and perfectly quaffed curls— as she waves around her certification to speak her inquiry.

“My question is for Potter,” she announces when the woman leading the event, McGonagall, points her way. “And I was wondering how early you boys have to rise for training during the season? And how intense the sessions are that Coach Hooch puts you guys through?”

Potter, the one with the redheaded girlfriend that Remus heard so much about last night between his ranting at Sirius, parts his lips, but it’s not his voice that ends up reverberating through the outdoors space. Instead, it’s Sirius, who’s shouldering him with a goading air, obviously expecting his comment to have only ended up in Potter’s ear and not caught by the mike.

“I wonder if Lupin will let me wake up with’m so he can let me get some real training done before practices, eh?”

And just as soon as his words pitter off, the entire crowd drops to a hush— quiet enough so that they could probably hear it if a pen dropped. 

Sirius’s handsome face— strong jawline, and broad but sharp cheekbones, and a long, narrow nose— goes suddenly ashen, and he flashes over to Remus as if he’s terrified that he’ll bite his face off.

God, what an idiot.

With a long suffering sigh, Remus plucks out the microphone from a slack faced Greengrass’s hand. “We can discuss the regimen afterwards, Black. Just meet me by the front doors and let your mate answer the bloody question.”

Everyone around them falls into laughter that’s caught between uncomfortable chuckles and amazingly amused cackling, but the only person Remus is paying any mind is Sirius, and how he seems to have gone absolutely incandescent, nodding electrically before miming the zip of his lips and gesturing for Potter to carry on.

Jesus help him, Remus has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

.-

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

~Buy Me A Coffee 

[atlasdoe]

I’m currently writing a fic following Emmeline after the war and so faw I’m 6k words in and am pretty proud of it so far so heres a snippet :)

Emmeline Vance had spent the past five years wondering what the first year without the war would look like. She imagined fireworks and parties. She imagined summer evenings getting drunk with her friends and family gatherings every holiday. She looked forwards to all of the weddings that she would attend, and the children she would meet now that everyone's fear of attacks was gone. Sometimes her mind went so far into the perfect war-free world that tears would form in her eyes at the mere thought of having all her loved ones safe and happy. She was so close to happily ever after, all she had to do was hold on for a little while longer and it would come to her.

At least that’s what she thought before Marlene died. Then Caradoc went missing. Then her father and brothers were killed, right before Fabian and Gideon. After then it was Edgar. Then Dorcas. Then Benjy. And finally, James and Lily. 

Never, did Emmeline think that she would be celebrating the end of the war alone. 

But she did. She went to the Leaky Cauldron when she heard the news. Already upon her arrival was the pub packed. She ordered a drink and kept to the bar mostly. Every now and then someone would see her alone and start up a conversation. They'd ask what her plans for life were, how please she was now, and if she wanted to join them for drinks. Her replies were always the same. Just finished my Mediwitch training. I’m delighted. No thank you but have a great night.

She waited to see if anyone else from the Order would turn up, but none of them did. Tom started kicking people out by 3 in the morning and by 3:15 she had found another pub in central London that still had its doors open. She stayed there until 5.

She took the train back home to Birmingham, rather than use wizarding transport. She liked long journeys and appreciated the time to think. She wondered if it was selfish to have celebrated with everyone else that night. Kingsley would’ve been at the Ministry going through the reports of Voldemort's demise and possibly Sirius’ trial if he was even getting one. She thought of Frank and Alice and how they must’ve spent their night together with baby Neville, thanking their lucky stars that it wasn’t them. And Remus, Gods Remus, she couldn't even imagine how he must've been feeling at that moment. She considered going to visit him but decided against it when she remembered that last she had heard Remus was all but missing. For all, she knew he could've been dead. Another loved one that Sirius Black had murdered.

Oh well, she thought numbly. Another one to add to the list I guess.

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

I’ve been thinking a lot about political structures in children’s fantasy. I’m positive this ramble is just going to end in more questions than answers but I need to organize my thoughts.

So Oz has an obvious, if confusing, political structure. (I’ve only ever read The Wizard of Oz though I know Baum went into a lot more of Oz’s history in his others, that’s what I’m sticking with rn cause that’s also the base of the media most are familiar with.) So, when Dorothy lands in Oz she kills the Wicked Witch of the East and frees the Munchkins from her tyrannical(? We’re lead to believe) rule leaving the Munchkins free(? Or maybe under Glinda’s rule?). Regardless, Oz has a political structure & Dorothy’s actions directly upset it — as she goes on to kill the Wicked Witch of the West who was ruling over the Winkies — but we never see her involved in politics. If anything she’s a tool of Glinda and the Wizard, upsetting the current balance of power before heading back to Kansas and not getting involved in the political restructuring. (Look I know there’s other media that might include this & I know I’ve read some but I’m thinking of strictly L. Frank Baum’s The Wizard of Oz. Which is political to begin with since it’s an allegory for a silver backed dollar but I’m not talking American politics here.)

Then there’s Alice. Both Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass involve Alice directly dealing with, and often arguing, contradicting, and outright defying, royalty of both of the lands she finds herself in. While in Looking Glass Alice manages to become a queen she is still shown to not have any real political power or even anything to be queen over before waking up. Like Dorothy, Alice upsets the political landscape of the world she finds herself in without being able to restructure it. (Again, I’m not taking into consideration all the various adaptations and retellings.)

There’s probably something to be said about them both being girls and the eras in which the books were written or just the more overtly nonsensical or fantastical facets of both but still. Alice and Dorothy were both, undeniably, used as political pawns and then sent home.

The Chronicles of Narnia get to more of what I’m actually interested in. The Pevensie children show up, literally wage a war, and rid the country of a tyrannical dictator. Then by divine right of Aslan they’re made kings and queens. While it’s shown that there are other humans in the world, at this point the Telemarians don’t have any contact with the Narnians. So like, these kids first had to learn how to wage war (which I think might be the bigger takeaway here? That there’s a whole lot of child soldiers and political pawns going around.) and then they suddenly have to run a country? Granted it’s a magical one that seems to pretty much govern itself but like, these are kids! They don’t know what they’re doing! They got guidance in the war because they joined up with the resistance movement! Now suddenly the country’s at peace and very few people in it remember peacetime at this point so you’ve got a population that has to readjust to peace (and seasons) as well as four kids who are expected to run a country. I think the books said Mr. Tumnus and the Beavers ended up being advisors for them but like what do they know? What’re their qualifications? And I’m almost certain they got in contact with Telemar before they left the first time. So like how were they handling international relations in a world that wasn’t their own with people who knew this and while children? I just. I want to know how that worked, how it happened, how did these four kids — specifically SIBLINGS — actually manage to work out how to govern.

In Harry Potter there’s a mix between what happens with Dorothy, Harry is used as a pawn in a preexisting political structure with very little knowledge of his own, and the Pevensies, he and his family are thrust into the midst of a war and suddenly become child soldiers. But there’s less responsibility because at the end of the day the structure itself is largely unchanged, the Ministry being relinquished by the Death Eaters & Kingsley being elected Minister, and there are adults to pick up the pieces around them. Harry & co went through terrible, traumatic events and were forced to grow up too quickly, but they are given a reprieve and allowed to be kids again. Hermione goes back to Hogwarts even and completes school with Ginny and Luna. But we know that she also then goes on to work for the Ministry, and Harry becomes an Auror presumably right away and Neville eventually a professor at Hogwarts. You can’t say that these children, who by virtue of being war heroes, now have power and influence but don’t wield it. That they’re not included as members of the Order of the Phoenix or that Dumbledore’s Army doesn’t carry weight akin to a political party. Are we just expected to believe that the boy who felt played, betrayed, and controlled his whole life suddenly steps back and continues to allow someone else to make decisions now that he’s undoubtedly free to act on his own accord? Why would Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, or Luna give up their newfound power either? It doesn’t make sense for any of these characters who have felt as though they have no control over their lives or the world around them to suddenly gain the ability to and yet not use it. I’m not saying they staged a coup or anything but they must have been included on discussions of what to do with the remaining Death Eaters and how to rebuild. They must have wanted to be included. So, what happened?

Now this one I’m less familiar with and there’s already been a lot of meta done but it’s the most similar to Narnia and definitely needs to be included. So, Avatar: The Last Airbender is very much along the same lines as Narnia and Harry Potter, child soldiers & taking over running a country that’s suddenly finds itself at peace. Though the Gaang has a whole lot more awareness of the broader ramifications of their actions. Kinda. Vaguely. Zuko is well aware that he’s a prince and that one day he’s expected to run a country and Aang knows he’s the avatar and the weight that carries. Sokka and Katara also have a sense of weight and Toph knows the weight her family name carries. But like, they don’t really expect that this is going to translate into politics. But by the end Zuko does have to run a country, granted with the help of ministers and advisors and we all know Iroh, but with Korra we know that the Gaang goes on to found a whole knew country. Just like the Pevensies you have these people who are literally or nearly siblings who suddenly find themselves world leaders and dealing with other political leaders. And how did that go over? How do you go from being best friends one minute to hashing out tarriffs the next? And while all under the age of 30?

Now Percy Jackson and the Olympians is the only one I can think of (without venturing too far into YA lit) that actually sees the main character wielding hard won power. (And I do mean only the first five books.) Percy is definitively a pawn and when the war is over he actively asks the gods to restructure power by claiming their kids. It’s nowhere near the extremes that Luke wanted or control that Kronos did but Percy sees the validity that Luke had and uses the fact that the gods owe him big time to have some sort of change enacted.

I don’t know what exactly but there’s something here about children, power, politics, war, and how children who go through war together and form bonds and are in each other’s pockets by choice, necessity, and blood go about being allowed to stop growing up so fast while also being expected to govern to actually governing and shaping politics. And if children as political pawns and soldiers and “saviors” is such a reoccurring theme, why isn’t them wielding their newfound power and influence to govern? To restructure the worlds they saved?

[chaoswillfallrpg]

HESTIA JONES is THIRTY-TWO YEARS OLD and an AUROR in THE DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL LAW ENFORCEMENT at THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC. She looks remarkably like AJA NOAMI KING and considers herself aligned with THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX. She is currently OPEN.

→ OVERVIEW:

A woman who has always known exactly what she’s wanted out of life, Hestia Jones was raised in the knowledge she was destined for greatness. Born in North West London to famous Auror ALICIA AVERY-JONES and Wizgamot Judge BALTHASAR JONES, Hestia had large shoes to fill and had a childhood laden with distant parenting and the demand for perfection. The eldest of two children, Hestia was born when her mother and father believed they were truly ready to be parents, but often left her at home in the care of a nanny to focus on their careers. Hestia was born out of the necessity of carrying on their family line before the two felt they were too old, but it was clear a child meant slowing their lives down which neither her mother or father were prepared to do. When Hestia became too old for nanny, she was left in the care of a tutor who prepared Hestia for the strict education she would receive at Hogwarts. Her early days were spent with her nose in a book, a quill in her hand and an Outstanding on every piece of work she turned in to be marked. Hestia soon realised the only attention she would gain from her parents was when she produced hard work, which they valued above all else. 

With her mother working hard to become head of The Auror’s Office, it was Hestia’s father she spent the most time with at home, sitting beside him on their long family table in the dining room hoping he’d smile at her neatly presented essay left in front of him. Her cousin often remarked at the oddity of her relationship with her parents. LUCILLE JONES was two years younger than Hestia and the only real companion she had growing up. The apple of her parents eye, her mother was a Muggle actress, whilst her father was an Auror as famous as Hestia’s mother. But despite their fame and wealth, they poured all their love and attention into their daughter, which made Hestia feel small and insignificant. Being left with her aunt, uncle and cousin during the odd weekend when her parents were away was a holiday to Hestia. Her aunt and uncle spoiled her the way she thought she always should have been treated, often sitting silently at family gatherings wishing she’d been born to her uncle ADRIAN and aunt ELODIE rather than being ignored by her parents until they were told of her schooling progress. All of her family had noticed it, remarking her parents were people who should have probably never been parents. 

It was as Hestia was preparing to go off to Hogwarts that her younger sister GWENOG was born, a shock to both Hestia and her parents who had claimed they hadn’t wanted any more children. She almost felt sorry for the baby who would grow up as she did in their lonely home in Primrose Hill fighting for attention with their parents' busy schedule, but mostly Hestia was happy she finally wasn’t alone. Though the age gap between them was substantial, at least she would have something to distract her during her visits home from school which was a blessing within itself. Sorted into Ravenclaw, Hestia quickly made her mark at Hogwarts and became top of her year group, vying for the position with her best friend EMMELINE VANCE, but feeling she ultimately came out on top. Hestia was easily one of the most impressive students to grace Hogwarts and was made Head Girl in her final year of school, although she passed up on the opportunity to become Prefect as it would clash with her studies. Despite her brilliance, Hestia soon realised she would never be as impressive as her younger sister to their parents. 

Hestia may have been made Head Girl, but it was the same week that Gwenog had mastered a broomstick. She may have graduated as one of the top in her year group and had a History of Magic essentially memorised by the time she was ten, but Gwenog was able to name every single Quidditch Team competing for the League Cup. It was frustrating to say the least, but Hestia tried not to take out her emotions on her younger sister who had clearly benefited from ten years of career progression that had allowed her parents to focus on actually becoming parents. It was as she sat opposite her parents one evening as she told them she had secured her training contract to study to become an Auror and was met with a hug from her father and silence from her mother that she decided she was finished with them. Her surname name was hopefully common enough that no one in her department would figure out her mother was the Head of the Auror’s Office, as she certainly wouldn’t be relying on either of them or her name to get her anywhere in life. Packing a bag, she took her cat, her broomstick, kissed her sister on the head and left her house, putting a downpayment on a flat in King’s Cross to focus on the rest of her life alone.  

Auror training was more grueling than she thought it would be, though in true Hestia style she studied almost every night alone in her apartment or with Emmeline with the aim of becoming top of her class as she had been at Hogwarts. It was through her training, Hestia first became aware of AMOS DIGGORY, a self-assured rich boy who began putting himself in direct competition with Hestia. At first Hestia found his effort quite laughable, as it was clear to everyone on their course Amos had been accepted due to the status of his family within the department and struggled academically. Though Hestia is described by most as kind, Amos has often disagreed with this characterisation of her as she is often short with him and has little patience for his frequent jokes and boasting of himself. Finally graduating as an Auror alongside Emmeline and Amos, Hestia quickly threw herself into the job with the aim of solving as many cases as she could. Throughout her time within the Auror’s Office, Hestia has been revered as a competitive, hardworking and diligent witch, who keeps her circle of friends close and often stays behind after hours researching cases which have gone unsolved which are piling up around them. 

A number of strange disappearances here and there led Hestia to attempt to reopen the case of Hepzibah Smith who had been supposedly murdered by her own house elf. Unconvinced, Hestia drew negative attention to herself and ended up being reprimanded by her mother for disobeying her superior ALASTOR MOODY. It was humiliating, but worth it given she landed herself in a meeting with ALBUS DUMBLEDORE that would change her life forever. The Order of The Phoenix was in its infancy, with most of its members fresh out of Hogwarts with only basic knowledge in duelling, protective and defensive charms. Hestia has predominantly joined The Order to help her gather information on her unsolved cases, but is surprised how much she has enjoyed her role within the organisation. Alongside Emmeline and Alastor Moody she has taken to attempting to teach the younger members of the group master their magic abilities in preparation for what they fear might be a war. Although a wizarding civil war is a frightening prospect to Hestia, she is confident her work with The Order puts her firmly on the right side of history and will stop at nothing to ensure those who deserve justice receive it.

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Blood Status → Pure-Blood

Pronouns → She/Her

Identification → Cis Female 

Sexuality  → Pansexual 

Relationship Status → Single 

Previous Education → Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Ravenclaw)

Family → Balthasar Jones (father), Alicia Avery-Jones (mother), Gwenog Jones (sister), Adrian Jones (uncle), Elodie Jones (aunt), Lucille Jones (cousin/colleague), Florence Jones (cousin), Genevieve Avery (cousin), Jasper Avery (cousin), Kingsley Shacklebolt (cousin/close friend/colleague)

Connections  → Emmeline Vance (best friend/colleague), Frank Longbottom (close friend/colleague), Alice Yen (close friend/colleague), Harrison Bagnold (close friend), Ishaan Patil (friend/colleague), Amos Diggory (colleague/adversary), Alastor Moody (boss), James Potter (friend/mentee)

Future Information → Wife of Amos Diggory, Mother of Cedric Diggory

HESTIA JONES IS A LEVEL 8 WITCH. 

[littlejeanniebean]

Ep. 3 | The Marauders: Riddle Records

A/N: “Come to the dark side. We have a solo career.” - Tom Riddle Jr., probably. On a lighter note, I can just see them backstage like this by the lovely artist @theimpossiblefifth​. Read on AO3 :) Enjoy! - J xx

One look in your eyes

I can read your mind

 You're naughty, my type

Care for a good time?

You could be just like all your high society friends at high tea

You could get with a football player

But there’s nothing like a shot of adrenaline in the morning

You know you want a dragon slayer

“Like me,” James mouthed seductively to the camera and winked.

“I’m Alice Fortescue, these wonderful lads are The Marauders, thank you for joining us this Saturday Night Live!” the actress grinned widely as the camera backed away.

The boys all gathered around her in a group hug.

“Holy shit! That was incredible!” Obviously, this was Sirius speaking.

“You were wonderful, honey,” a low voice whispered.

A smiling man with sweet eyes and a mop of dark hair put his arms around Alice.

“Oh, everyone, this is my boyfriend, Frank!” the bubbly actress grinned widely, “He’s a photographer for GQ.”

“Sick!” James shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Frank; lovely working with you, Alice; hope you’ll both come to one of our shows sometime, ta-ta!” Sirius practically dragged the band away before anyone could say anything more.

“What was that?” Remus tutted at his boyfriend.

“Yeah, ta-ta?” the bespectacled boy wiggled his nose to adjust his glasses that had gone askew, “Who says that?”

“Not what I meant,” the pale, mousy-haired boy shrugged off his suit jacket in their shared dressing room.

“Look, I’ll explain later!” Sirius pleaded, “Just hurry up and let’s get the hell -”

“Yoo-hoo! Siri!” a warbling, high-pitched voice giggled on the other side of the door, “This is their room here, Tommy...”

“Christ,” the dark-haired boy covered his face with his hands. 

“We’ll deal with Bella,” James set his jaw and turned to the other two, “Ready?”

Remus and Peter rolled up their dress shirt sleeves and nodded.

The trio filed out of the dressing room, forcing Bella Black and her friend backward, and immediately shut the door behind them.

“He doesn’t want to see you or any of your family again, Bella,” said James sternly, giving the show's new cameraman the stink-eye for good measure. 

Bella stuck her tongue out childishly. 

Her guest grimaced and offered his hand to the boys, “I’m sorry about her. She overheard I was interested in speaking with you young talents and… well, it got a bit out of hand. I’m Tom Riddle, of Riddle Records.” 

Really, the man with chiseled features and dark slicked back hair wasn’t much older than they were. But he was dressed more expensively than they could ever be comfortable with, even with the fresh success of their debut album.

“You’re Senior’s kid,” James nodded, his mother being an agent in the industry. He noted just the smallest flinch at the mention of the man's father. “With all due respect, we already have a label.”

“A label that has you locked into a contract as a group,” Tom gave them each his card and presented James with another one for Sirius, “We would pay any fees associated with breaking your current contract, then we would launch your solo careers - James as the pop prince, Sirius as the rock and roll bad boy, Remus as the R&B god, and Peter as the jazz legend!”

“We’re better musicians together,” said Remus.

Tom leaned in, “Your success now, quadrupled. Plus the potential for high-engagement collaborations among you. The freedom to create in your own style on top of that. Imagine it. And give me a call.”

"Ta-ta," Bella blew them each a kiss in a way that could only be described as menacing. When they were out of the boys' earshot she simpered, "You're such a clever businessman, Tommy."

"Don't call me that," he yanked his arm away and pressed his phone to his ear irritably, "I found us some new business and laid the groundwork. Can I have my allowance now?" 

The Marauders flew back to Scotland that night and rehearsed for months until they were ready to drop before flying back to LA for Night One. 

“Nervous?” Sirius whispered while they waited for their opening act, DJ Dedalus Diggle, to finish his set.

“Why would you ask me that?” James huffed, adjusting his bright red tie for the umpteenth time. 

“You need more glitter,” Molly patted his cheekbones lightly with her pointer finger, which was covered in the golden stuff.

“Five minutes, boys!”

“Thanks, Arthur!” Remus spoke for them all.

“We’ve got this, Jimbo!” Peter bounced excitedly on his heels.

“Easy for you to say. You’ve been performing at recitals since you were big enough to reach the keys from the bench.”

“The jitters never get old,” his baby-faced friend told him, “but we’re all going out there. And with everything we do together, we always have fun.”

James nodded to himself and made sure to check on their drummer for the tour, “You good, Kingsley?”

The man in a rose-red disco suit twirled the sticks deftly in his hands, “Let’s do this.”

“... and now, Los Angeles,” Diggle hyped the crowd, “give it up… for The Marauders!”

The lights went up and the boys looked out at the incredibly emotional fans who’d come to see them.

“Right,” James whispered, reaching for the microphone with shaking hands, “A-one, two, three.”

I don’t have a lot of time

I’m running for my dear life

Can’t breathe without you by

Aye aye aye

It’s a full house

But I’ll seek you out

It’s a wild crowd

But I’ll seek you out

I don’t know how

But I’ll seek you out

James couldn’t help grinning ear to ear as Sirius broke out into his guitar solo.

Remus pointed out a sign that said, “Marry me, James Potter!”

The lead singer laughed and spoke into his mic, “Well, will you buy me dinner first, at least?” 

The girl promptly fainted.

Arthur was by her side immediately to make sure she was alright.

“Oh, dear, you’ve hit your head,” Molly crouched down beside him and handed the young girl an ice pack.

The red-headed manager got his first good look at the videographer and her multi-pocketed fishing vest and cargo pants.

She noticed him staring, “I’ve known these boys a long time. You never know what you’re going to need.”

“Good advice,” he helped her and the fan back up in one go, “I’m Arthur.”

“Molly,” she grinned, hoisting her camera back onto her capable shoulders and focused back in on James.

Under your spell, I like how you play it

Keeping it cool is so overrated

Waiting on you, every breath bated

Hey hey hey

They played LA two more nights before moving on to San Francisco. Then Vegas, then Seattle, and across the rest of the continent, all the way to New York.

“Madison Square Garden,” James swallowed, taking in the iconic jumbotron above their heads and the entire stadium, really.

Just three hours later, he was up on that very stage, sweat trickling down his back and the bridge of his nose as he sang his heart out about a funny story the designer, Lily Evans once related about her sister via Instagram post.

There’s a little house on Privet Drive

Where nothing ever happens

Little curtain twitcher of a wife

And a little boy and husband

But when they leave for their nine to five

And the little boy goes to school

The little old lady with cats ninety-nine

Does what she wills to do

Living next to ordinary no. 4

So much to do, so much to explore

The grocer down the street from me

His daughter left for university

And he needs the comfort of my tabbies

Yessiree, that’s what I’m here for

Your neighbour next to ordinary no. 4

After that, they went all over South America. The streets were typically too narrow to drive a tour bus around, so they often jetted from one country to another and rented a little convoy of minivans to take them to the arenas from their hotels and back.

“Shit, Petey’s got food poisoning!” Remus fussed over the poor boy.

“I’m fine! Really!” the blond insisted before doubling over and retching once more.

“I can fill in,” DJ Diggle adjusted his signature flat cap, “I have all your songs pre-recorded -”

“We have half an hour to get it out of his system!” Sirius declared determinedly, “We’re not going on without you, Pete!”

“I’ve got the doctor!” Arthur came in, followed closely by a middle-aged woman with apple cheeks and curly hair.

“You need to replace your fluids,” Molly handed Peter a bottle of electrolytes.

“Yeah, it’s a common bacterial infection going around among tourists,” said the doctor, giving him a dose of antibiotics, “He’s not in any shape to perform, you lot, so you might as well let him rest.”

“I can - oh,” Peter ran to the bathroom.

“How soon can you give him another dose of that?” Sirius asked anxiously.

“Not any time in the next half hour,” she narrowed her eyes at him, apparently having overheard his earlier proclamation.

“Poppy’s right,” said Arthur, “Peter’s health comes first. Dedalus, isolate the keyboards in every track and queue the set list.”

“Try to keep in time,” Sirius added.

“No improvising for tonight, lads,” Arthur warned the regular band members.

“But -” 

“I’m serious.”

“And so am I!” he could only maintain a straight face for two and a half seconds after he said this.

James sighed as they waited for the DJ to introduce them half an hour later, “It’s not going to be the same without Peter.”

“We’ll make the best of it, Jimbo,” Remus assured him, “and he’ll be back with us for the next one.”

The frontman set his jaw, pushed his glasses up his face and pulled the microphone to his lips.

Do you remember

The games we used to play

Mermaids underwater

Aliens in outer space

Do you remember

The sticks we’d raise aloft

We called them swords and never

Lost the battles that we fought

Peter was back on stage the next night, to much celebration and all too soon, they flew back across the pond for their European leg. Of course, their first stop was Scotland.

“It’s so good to be home,” James sighed happily, pausing to wipe his glasses on the hem of his shirt and winking at a girl who lost it at the sight of his abdomen, “This is our last song. Please join in if you know the words. Or make them up. Just have a good time. Be as loud as you want to. We love you all, thank you for everything you’ve done for us. We’re the luckiest boys in the world.”

Is there a risk to it?

Is it a challenge?

If there isn’t, if it isn’t, I don’t want it

Yeah, I wanna do some damage

I feel lucky tonight

I got you by my side

Seven days in a week

And you spend them with me

So hell yeah, I feel lucky

"That sounds really good, Pete," said James from where he lay on the floor of their stage after the arena emptied, "We could use that."

Peter chuckled, "It's Chopin. A waltz."

James ambles over and his friend makes room for him on the bench.

"It's a split C chord, then F, A flat..." he guides him through the song. It's out of time and messy, but they're having fun. "James…"

"Yeah, Pete?"

"What are we going to do about Tom Riddle's offer? I mean, his dad’s label practically owns half the music industry. And Castle is just this little independent… He could make our lives more difficult than he already has." 

"Unless we join him, you're thinking?" 

"We could ask Arthur to negotiate a group contract just the same. I doubt they'll dislike the idea of paying less upfront."

"But what about loyalty to everyone at Castle? McGonagall? Urquart?" James shook his head, "We're having a successful tour in spite of the ticket bots Riddle set on us. We're looking out into seas of fans all wearing our merch in spite of his shipment hijacking. And we're having bloody good time because we're not letting any of the homophobic slander he's fueled the press with get to us."

"Here, here!" cheered Sirius, clinking his beer bottle with his boyfriend's.

"Right, rest up, lads! You deserve it with all the work you put into this show," James stood and ambled back to the tour bus, where Shacklebolt was already sleeping soundly, being the earliest riser of them all.

“Goodnight, all!” Peter loved his friends, truly. But he was convinced their stubborn sense of the meaning of courage would do them a great disservice.

As always when confronted with a decision to make, he visited the only jazz bar in Scotland, the Leaky Kettle. Immediately upon stepping inside, he let the smooth piano carry away the stress. 

“The usual,” he told the bartender.

“Put it on my tab,” Tom Riddle swivelled around on the bar stool, "Fancy meeting you here."

"You mean you didn't expect to? Didn't plan it?" Peter received his drink with barely more than a sideways glance at their adversary.

"It's just business, Peter. I know you understand that."

"Then why go through all this trouble for one act? There must be thousands - hundreds of thousands - of talented artists who could make you rich."

Tom rolled his eyes, "My father was always… a bit single-minded. He wants to put me through my paces before handing me the keys to the kingdom, so to speak. But don’t worry about that. Just know this: I think your group is talented and I can see that you’re the musical glue holding it all together. You’re the only one with any formal training, after all. And I really can see to your career’s longevity. If you stick with this boyband too long, though…” 

Peter raised his eyebrows, “Then what?”

“Well,” the label executive leaned in, “then you’ll need to think about what that does to your image as a real, serious musician.”

The blond boy finished his drink. 

“Another one for my friend,” Tom told the bartender, took his jacket, and left.

His calling card sat heavy in the keyboardist’s wallet.

[homenum-revelio-hq]

If she's a spy for the Death Eaters, what's keeping Annalise from just outing the entire Order to Voldemort?

Hey there, nonnie! Good question!

The short answer is... nothing! That’s what makes war so scary! 

The long answer is... it’s a bit more complicated than that. Let’s take a look at the two current spies for Voldemort in-game: Peter and Severus (though the latter is spying just as much for the Order). Neither character has given a comprehensive list of names, nor have they been asked to by Voldemort - even in the books, Snape gives information about when the Order is moving Harry... but not who is moving Harry. This might be because he’s unable - I don’t think it would be wrong to say that the Order has some spell in place (perhaps members sign a list that makes them magically unable to speak names about the Order to outside members; Hermione, a 16-year-old managed a similar spell). Or it might just be that Voldemort doesn’t really care about their names... he’ll just kill anyone who gets in his way.

Also consider Ainsley, who recently defected. She’s been in the Order a lot longer than either Severus or Peter, and knows the majority of the group - what’s stopping her from naming all their names? We also know that her identity was discovered by the Death Eaters prior to her sister’s engagement...who gave her away? It’s possible that the Death Eaters know a lot more members of the Order than they’ve let-on so far...

For this roleplay, I also think it’s important to remember that, once someone joins up, they don’t just immediately meet everyone. In fact, some people who have been working with the Order - namely Lu and Andromeda - still aren’t yet known to anyone outside their contact(s) and the Inner Circle. So, while Annalise could certainly tell Voldemort about the few members she knows about, it’ll also compromise her position pretty quickly. If only those members suddenly end up ambushed and/or dead... they’re going to figure out who tattled, and cast Annalise out with a memory charm (or worse!). It might be worth it to her - it might not be. But I’m guessing Voldemort would rather have her work the long game and take down all the Order than just a few members that “would just be replaced.” (Voldemort’s viewing - people can be replaced in his mind. Everyone but him, anyway!) Remember, Voldemort is only afraid of Dumbledore - everyone else is “just a flunky” to him. So while he’s happy to have as much collateral death as possible, he’s not focused on killing the people... he’s focused on killing the organization.

Consider the Death Eater list. The Order knows for sure about a few members of the Death Eaters... but they can’t just go out and kill them and/or have them detained. It’s the same for the Death Eaters. The Wizarding World as a whole hasn’t yet called this a war. The Daily Prophet isn’t reporting on the deaths as though it’s a combat action. Nobody else wants to choose sides. If the Death Eaters went and killed a few Order members all at the same time, it’s likely the Aurors would investigate and catch them. Some of the Death Eaters have higher-up positions in the Ministry, which is much more useful than killing just five people in the Order. And even Aurors like Alice, Frank, Kingsley, and Moody (and whatever Aurors are working for the Death Eaters) can’t just go execute people on the street without proof - or even have them arrested just on their say-so, even if they know someone’s a Death Eater/Order member. They need enough evidence that the charges will stick if they want to actually get them to Azkaban.

And the final note... the Death Eaters are always recruiting. And so is the Order of the Phoenix. If the entire Inner Circle is wiped out, there are still others that would step up and do the work. And, when Hogwarts ends in the spring, there’s likely some new, bright-eyed members that will join up. Even someone like Ted, who is older, just recently joined. Both sides are constantly trying to make their ranks stronger, so it would be pretty impossible for Annalise to have all 40+ members killed off at once -- especially if she wouldn’t ever know about some of them. If all she wanted was quick revenge, she would just take a silver mask and join the next battle. Putting in the effort to insinuate herself into the Order sounds like someone aiming for a bigger endgame.

That being said... if giving names is something that a player applying for Annalise would want to do, we think it would be an interesting idea! Have her choose a few, careful to keep herself from being discovered as the source? Have some people attacked, or their homes targeted? That could be fun! There would need to be a discussion about who she could start with, but we’re all about characters messing things up for the Order here! (*cough*James’death*cough*). There are just some obstacles to consider - and some reasons why she might choose to keep herself undercover a bit longer. 

[risingphoenixrp]

Alastor Moody | 29 | Former Gryffindor | Pureblood | Member of the Order | FC: Charlie Hunnam|

Date of Birth: 1949 , Scotland

Occupation: Auror

Ship: Not Set

Biography:

Alastor Moody does not take any of the following things: The word “no” for an answer, bullshit, and your pathetic excuses. He throws himself fully into his job, and he expects all of his fellow aurors to do the same. What’s the point of doing something if you’re not willing to give it your all, plus possibly a body part or two?

This Scot hails from a long line of successful aurors and he followed in his parents’ footsteps straight out of Hogwarts. Unfortunately Bernard and Leana weren’t around to see him do it. Aileen was there, though, and he did his best to make his little sister proud, while also being a good custodian. He counts himself lucky he had three years of happiness with her, before she succumbed to a still unknown magical disease in 1970 and he’s grateful she never had to learn what the word war really means. Still, even with this loss, Al relied on his close group of friends at school, even dating Cleona for a brief period of time. He still counts Arthur, Molly, Frank, Amelia and even Cleona as his friends, though his job and what’s at stake leave him very little time for even platonic relationships.

Alastor will do anything necessary to put an end to the war that’s waging with him in the center. While his methods may be frowned upon by higher ups within the Ministry, no one will say that they do not work. Already he is putting more death eaters in prison than anyone and he is slowly rising through the ranks in the aurory, discovering more corruption in the Ministry than he can turn a blind eye to. Alastor isn’t distrustful, but he’s definitely not stupid, and therefore the only person he trusts is his Bulldog, Rosie. Very few people know about Rosie, and those who do think her name is Killer.

Now is not the time to fix the government, though. He first intends to destroy Voldemort’s regime and then remove the corruption from the Auror department. He absolutely despises the backroom politics that go on, but he’s discovered that the right combination of fear and respect will get people to shut the fuck up and listen to you. Currently, the only people Alastor Moody listens to are Barty Crouch (reluctantly) and Percy Weasley (because you don’t say no to a one-year-old who adores you). Still, Al isn’t opposed to a real connection-he’s just waiting for the right person to start the spark. In the meantime, Alastor is going to do his best to keep his paranoia under control-while maintaining, above all else, constant vigilance.

Connections:

Frank Longbottom

Alice Fortescue-Prewett

Amelia Bones

Mary MacDonald

Arthur Weasley

Edgar Bones

Andromeda Black

Benjy Fenwick

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Cleona O’Dempsey

Current Status: Taken

[hollowedrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, LISSA! — You’ve been accepted for the role of Frank Longbottom. While reading you app, I could not only see the ways in which Frank has developed so far, but what’s to come for his character. Not to mention, your in depth description of his relationship with Alice. Somehow, you made Frank and Alice feel like people I know in real life, not just text on a page. Truly, your app was impressive from start to finish, and if I had to point out specifics on why I loved your portrayal, I’d be writing an essay. 

Thank you so much for applying. Please create your account and send in the link, track the right tags, and follow everyone on the follow list. Welcome to Hollowed Souls!

OOC.

Name: Lissa

Age: Twenty-Two

Preferred Pronouns: She/Her

Timezone: PST

Activity: I currently work full-time, but on my days off I would be fairly active. If I had to assign it a numeric value, I’d say maybe a 6-7/10?

Are you applying for more than one character?: Not currently, but I’m certainly tempted to!

How do you feel about your character dying?: Although I’d be pained to see him go, if it served a purpose and was well thought out, which I’m sure it would be, I could be convinced.

Anything else?: Nope!

IC Details.

Full Name: Francis Theodore Longbottom, but please, for the love of Merlin, just call him Frank.

Francis: It’s an old family name that has been handed down from progenitor to progenitor like some sort of sacred relic. He’s been told it can be traced back to the age of Merlin, to age of knights and chivalry, predating even Hogwarts’ crumbling stone walls—his first name, just like his last, is a reminder of their austerity, their contribution to the world of magic and Frank certainly believes it’s ancient. Only two individuals in all the world are allowed to use his given name: the first being his dear old mother and the other is his beloved wife, Alice. Still, whenever they use it, he has a tendency to “not hear them”—whether it’s accidental or purposeful is up to your interpretation.

Theodore: Of his three given names, he hates this one the least—perhaps, it’s because he hears with this one the least. Nonetheless, its meaning is, “gift of God.” In the past, he’d remind Alice that’s exactly how he expected her to treat him, like he’s been sent from the heavens above. It’d be enough to elicit a laugh from her petal pink lips, but that was a lifetime ago; now all they seem to do is haunt each other.

Longbottom: It’s a name that he owes much to and although he does not revere it as others do, it does amuse him that the name “Longbottom,” in all its ridiculousness, is included on a document detailing the “Sacred Twenty-Eight.″ Still, Frank is proud to be just that, a Longbottom, but for reasons that differ from his peers. His lineage, established eons ago, placed him in the upper echelons of their society, but ultimately it was what forced him out in the end. Sometimes he wonders how the others were raised; how they could all be so different, but yet so alike. He always comes to the same conclusion: none of it matters, everyone bleeds red in the end.

Date of Birth: December 20th, 1956—Sagittarius (Generous, Idealistic, Enthusiastic)

Former Hogwarts House: Gryffindor—it’s expanded upon below, but I can say he was very nearly a Ravenclaw.

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Gender/Pronouns: Cisgender Male; He/Him

Face Claim Change: N/A

More.

How do you interpret this character’s personality? How will you play them? Include two weaknesses and two strengths.

These key traits are expounded upon below:

Positive: Determined, Intelligent, Noble, Passionate

Negative: Stubborn, Selfish, Mercurial, Vengeful

As a child, he was all consuming. Always active and fussy for attention, wailing throughout the night until he was blue. For him, it was all or nothing; Frank could never do anything in half-measures. First, it began with securing Augusta’s undivided attention, then it led to thumbing through all the books in his family’s library even though some tomes were denser than Rabastan Lestrange’s skull. Once he was done with that, Frank set his sights on the land surrounding their vast estate, exploring like a New World cartographer, set on leaving no stone unturned. In some respects, it was an innocuous trait, but at times it would overtake him. Let’s call it what it was: greed with, perhaps, a touch of selfishness.

While at Hogwarts he tried and sometimes failed to keep his voracity in check. He pursued each of his passions to completion. Only when Frank was quite literally at a loss, did he meet absolution. His orbit was thrown and his world was shaken by the girl with the eyes like warmed honey. Just as he was a taker, Alice was equal parts a giver—it could’ve gone wrong in so many ways, but oh how it didn’t. She checked his greed, made him expand beyond his selfishness. They would’ve been untouchable too, if things had panned out better—for awhile, in fact, they were untouchable. But the truth is, it won’t be the Death Eaters that get him at the end of it all—no, his hamartia is his greed, his need for more. If anyone will be his undoing, it will be himself. Frank demands answers, blood for blood, and always more, more, more. It will never be enough though—nothing will ever fill this wound that’s been left raw and festering.

He’d be the first to admit that up until this point, his life has certainly been charmed. It’d be easy to credit his triumphs to the Fates or Felix Felicis or whatever dictates good fortune in your mind, but ultimately Frank is responsible for success he has found in life. Even as a child, he would make calculated moves in an upward direction—blatantly pursuing his life’s goals with a kind of singularity that can only be described as unrelenting. This contrasts Alice quite nicely; through the years she has allowed herself to be defined by her passivity. She is pliant like clay, permitting others like her mother or even Moody to mold her into another and to direct her course. Frank, however, is rigid in his ways; from birth, he’s been the one helming the ship. This is due to his privileged upbringing; Frank has always been afforded his own choices and rarely were there ever true consequences to his actions.

The best example of this juxtaposition is what happens upon graduation. Alice allows herself to become an Auror after Moody’s intervention, which differs strikingly from Frank, who actively sought out the position for himself. After years of honing his craft while playing Wizard’s Chess, he believed it would be the next best move and most natural transition. He was right. Swiftly, he rose in the ranks, planning ambush after ambush, mapping out elaborate plans on the backs of old Ministry memos; first alone, then with Alice. There were, of course, the occasional missteps resulting in broken limbs (mainly his own) and bruised cheeks (mainly Kingsley’s), but his track record was solid and became much more refined after Alice joined him. At the core of it all, although Frank prides himself on being a skillful tactician—it’s Alice who has bested him before; it’s Alice who dissects him and sees beneath the carefully crafted veneer. However, it’s his drive and perseverance that guides them into the breach of war and out the other side.

This is also what divides them, however; Frank cannot face the consequences or the mistakes he’s made in the past. He cannot concede defeat and admit to his misgivings. For all his talk about pragmatism, his emotionality over his son’s death is what clouds his mind. He was so used to being able to see ahead, beyond the superficial, that a failure of this magnitude is unforgivable to him. For the boy that was constantly planning and plotting, making leaps and bounds to outwit his opponents; first on the chessboard, then on the battlefield—Frank cannot make sense of it all. Now, his dogged cleverness is set upon a new quest, he’s tracing out all the connections he missed and catching new ones, but the question is: is this paranoia or foresight? He’d be remiss to say that sometimes, now more than ever, the lines do blur a bit.

In truth, he’s poisoned by his need for retribution and he knows it. His recent thoughts and actions have been some of his greatest acts of sabotage, but instead of setting upon the evil that exists in the world, Frank has been undermining himself. Brick by brick, he pulls the foundation of his life apart, stubbornly clinging onto rationality and order in a time where the world is in disarray. He claims he needs answers for justice, to comprehend how it all went wrong, but the ones that truly know him know he’s lying. In actuality, Frank is a hypocrite—he is blinded by his emotions, lost in the tumult of rage and despair. In his misery, he’s abandoned her and with his own hollow eyes he sees how she looks at him like of all the loss she’s experienced, he’s the freshest wound. Frank has always been Alice’s touchstone, but now he is lost to her and the whole damn world. This is what happens when the young hero escapes childhood unscathed by the world; the first taste of tragedy begets madness. It is who he is though.

However, when all is said in done, Frank Longbottom is good. Although he comes from a background rife with privilege, he has always had an innate desire to help others whenever he can. It was his steadfast nobility that got him placed in Gryffindor as a young child and his tried and true bravery that finally led him to the Order. Although there are instances in which he falls short of the mark, Frank constantly strives to uphold his House traits. Lately, it’s been difficult, to say the least, but somewhere underneath all the bitterness and fury, he still wants to do the right thing. The rest of the Order members believe in him—it’s just he’s lost faith in himself.

How has the war affected this character, emotionally and otherwise?

In truth, the whole business of war had been easier before Neville. Life was just another game to him and with Alice by his side, there was no fear of losing. He collected Death Eaters like trophies, using stratagem he learned from playing Wizard’s Chess to ensnare them. Each capture of theirs served as a checkmate; each threat of retaliation echoed the petulant cries of a sore loser. Frank liked playing hero; he liked engaging in this act of rebellion against his blood. After all, what did he have to lose?

Once Neville was born however, his perspective shifted. He was no longer interested in the thrill of it all, but instead, he sought to make his young son proud of his father. It was then he noticed once unmasked, these enemies of his were characters that dotted his boyhood, friends of friends, and not just casualties of war, but also of his life’s story. It was perhaps a cautionary tale, that it was not nature that separated him from the others, but nurture. Even then though, Frank hadn’t learned his lesson. He didn’t take the betrayal seriously enough, not until he crossed into the Malfoy’s foyer and recognized the wand pointed inches away from his son’s forehead, thin lips speaking into existence Death and all the tragedy that came with Him. In a flash of green, life as he knew it ended and stupidly, Frank never saw it coming.

Now, quite frankly, he’s adrift—lost to Alice, the Order, and even to himself. In his grief, Frank has become unmoored, detached from reality, and living in a hell he has constructed with his own two hands. He is plagued by his willful ignorance, obsessed with the questions he holds himself accountable for: the who, the what, the why, and the where—but perhaps the greatest of all his questions, the one he can’t bear to answer is: how did he let this come to be?

Where does this character currently stand? With those who wish to hide in Godric’s Hollow until the war ends, with those who wish to rebuild the order and continue fighting the war, or on neither side? Why?

Frank is suspended somewhere between grief and madness, just one soft shove away from crossing that fine line into insanity. What happened that fateful day was more than just a tragedy, it was a trauma that is now etched into the very marrow of his bones. Everyday, the memory takes root and haunts him without provocation or any hope for repose. When Alice screams in the dead of the night, it mirrors the image he has of her and her pretty face, mouth agape as their child grows cold. In this, he doesn’t know how to comfort her or soothe her. He can offer no solace as he cannot find any himself. This boy who had grown used to having all the answers, used to having the world right at his fingertips, has collapsed in on himself like a star half-extinguished somewhere deep in the universe.

In truth, he’s just numb to the plight of others now. Frank is drowning in his sorrow, too self-involved to notice Alice’s suffering, too blinded by his need for vengeance, and too bent on forcing the world to finally make sense again. He will not divert from his course despite what the other members say. How can he let this go? How does he stop it from swallowing him whole? In these moments, he can’t imagine the future, much less build for it—not when it was already so deliberately snatched out of his grip. For now, he’s on his own side, his son’s side, and whether she believes it or not, he’s never not on Alice’s side.

How is Frank looking into the death of his son? Does he have any theories about what happened? Where did he get those theories?

Frank has always been a damn good Auror and although his world has tilted on its axis, this is a fact that hasn’t changed. If he’s honest, a fair number of his theories are more conspiratorial than founded in reason, fed by his voracious mind that knows no rest and knows no peace. It’s his futile attempt to make sense of the senseless, but nevertheless, with each deep dive he takes into the rabbit hole, the light around him dims.

The other handful of leads he’s chasing down do have some truth to them though. Some may say his interrogation tactics have gotten more aggressive, but their complaints fall on deaf ears. They showed him no mercy, so it’s only fair if he returns the favor.

Currently, his most favored theory is that there is a traitor in their midst—how else would his son have ended up there? It makes him wary of the other members, distrustful of their outreached hands. His suspicion nearly borders on paranoia, intensifying whenever he has a particularly sleepless night. Whoever it is, taunts him; they toy with him and leave him tortured by his own thoughts. Frank will persevere, however—there will be an end, he’s sure of it.

Extra.

If Iwere a _______, then I’d be _______.

If I were a season, I’d be summer, but not the days at the beginning that are filled with childish wonder and boyhood adventures—no, those days are long gone—I am midsummer, when the sun is seemingly always at its apex, beating down relentlessly, and the air is so languid and sweltering that it feels like the world is aflame.

If I were a time of day, I’d be late afternoon.

If I were a place, I’d be an empty shore, abandoned after the storm came and went.

If I were a type of weather, I’d be a cloudless sky.

If I were a scent, I’d be smoke dissipating in the breeze, fresh linen, and pine.

If I were a plant, I’d be English Ivy, unkept and unruly, invading the flora and fauna around me, bent on expansion and progress at whatever cost necessary.

If I were an element, I’d be fire.

If I were a color, I’d be slate grey.

If I were a song, I’d be “As It Was,” by Hozier.

If I were an item of clothing, I’d be a wrinkled white button-up, wearing at the seams from years of care and use, much-loved but in need of repair.

If I were an object, I’d be a pawn.I used to think of myself as the rook, capable and cunning, but in the end it was all a charade.

If I were one of the seven deadly sins, I’d be greed.It eats me whole and it eats me alive.

If I were one of the seven heavenly virtues, I’d be diligence.

If I were a god/goddess, I’d be Prometheus. For my defiance, Godhood has been stripped from me and all that remains is torment.

[crimsonupdates]

✗ T H E  N E W  N O R M A L

     ❝ I can't change the direction of the wind             but I can adjust my sails to always reach my destination❞

June 26th 

In a surprise gesture of good faith,  Rodolphus Lestrange announces plans to start rebuilding St Mungos in order to win over those people who are still unsure of his rule. Narcissa Malfoy, Aurora Sinistra and Orion and Walburga Black are among the first to publicly support this and reparations soon begin with various fundraisers arranged to help with the funding of it all as well.

June 27th - July 5th 

Taking advantage or how things seem to have settled for the time being, talks begin to be held between Aversio and The Order, led by Ted Tonks, Kingsley Shaklebolt, Alastor Moody and Florence Wilson. Progress is slow but Marlene McKinnon, Alice Prewett, Edgar Bones and Frank Longbottom all work to make things go as smoothly as possible. But other members such as Sirius Black are still frustrated with how slowly things are moving and begin to get disillusioned with the Order.

July 6th 

With the talks having proven reasonably successful if not providing the perfect outcome, Millicent Bagnold feels it important that those in the population who might still support their cause know that there are still those willing to stand against the current government. With the help of Hestia Jones, a letter is put together to send out to all those who might still support The Order and let them know that not all is hopeless.

July 8th 

The first fundraiser for St Mungos is held with Natalie Dupont stepping up to take the lead on it, assisted by Orion Black and Regulus Black. Despite opposing those in power, The Order and Aversio try to do what they can from the sidelines with some members such as Gladys Gudgeon, Ivy Rosmerta and Lucinda Talkalot attending under Polyjuice Potion and others donating what they can despite their own uncertain position.

July 10th 

Posters find their way into Diagon Alley in the middle of the night, written by Hestia Jones and created by Edgar Bones. They speak out against the current Minister and make it clear what kind of man he is and what his rule will result in. In retaliation, Rodolphus Lestrange announces a zero tolerance policy towards anyone who aligns themselves with either The Order or Aversio, declaring them terrorists and enemies to the government and puts his brother Rabastan Lestrange in charge of the operation.

July 11th 

Sensing that public opinion might be shifting against them, Emma Vanity gives a public interview questioned by Rita Skeeter and later takes steps to persuade Gilderoy Lockhart to begin supporting them as well, feeling as though they could use some extra celebrity endorsement.

July 13th 

An uneasy peace has now been established between Aversio and The Order, however temporary it may be. Still, some members remain unhappy with things and a frustrated Sirius Black ends up in a heated discussion with Lily Evans and Remus Lupin about what should be being done and which organisation has more merit to it.

July 15th 

An argument breaks out between Rabastan Lestrange and Orion Black when the former realises that the older man doesn’t fully support his brother. The ensuing fight rocks the Death Eater ranks, leaving some whispering among one another whether the Lestranges are the correct family to be in power and others feeling more confident in their support of them.

July 17th 

Aversio members such as Lucinda Talkalot, Ivy Rosmerta, and Sybill Trelawney are still unsure and unconvinced of The Order and decide to find some way to strike a blow themselves. Their plans never come to fruition however with Cassandra Burke overhearing them and persuading them to delay their plans until there is a better time to strike.

July 20th 

The engagement of Emma Vanity and Rabastan Lestrange is announced to the world in the Daily Prophet. Plans begin to be made behind the scenes for a party to bring those who support the Lestranges closer together and fix any division in the ranks with help from Natalie Dupont, Alecto Carrow and Narcissa Black.

July 22nd 

Having received her invitation, Aurora Sinistra reaches out to both Greta Catchlove and Florence Wilson with an idea to get a few members of both Aversio and The Order into the engagement party. Plans begin to be made with Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shaklebolt and Millicent Bagnold being brought in on the proceedings.

After a confrontation, Kingsley Shaklebolt forces Cassandra Burke to leave the castle, unable to trust her around such critical plans due to her neutrality. Molly Weasley is there to mediate the interaction.

July 25th 

Those members of Aversio who have been staying with the Order such as Marlene McKinnon, Andromeda Tonks and Ted Tonks, along with some Order members like Edgar Bones agree that it would be a good idea to bring both the groups together even more and get them all on the same track once again. Greta Catchlove, Hestia Jones, Alice Prewett and Molly Weasley host a small gathering in the castle, doing the biggest room up and putting up as much of a feast as can be afforded.

July 29th 

A party is held at the Lestrange Manor to celebrate the engagement and everyone in pureblood society, as well as a few choice extras such as Gilderoy Lockhart, has an invitation. The sunny day ends up being perfect for the garden party that had been planned and it is generally enjoyed by all. Unbeknown to all those present, four of the guests are not what they seem. Florence Wilson, Benjy Fenwick, Sirius Black and Lily Evans infiltrate the party and are under strict instructions not to engage in any violence or disrupt the proceedings in any way. They are simple there to watch, listen and report particularly to the speech that is to be given by Rodolphus Lestrange.

July 30th 

Suspicious that Gilderoy Lockhart had an invitation to every party and wary of Sirius Black’s opposition to The Order, Alastor Moody meets with Benjy Fenwick to discuss his suspicions.

Later on that day, Gilderoy Lockhart decides to meet with Rita Skeeter and discusses what he knows about Aversio with her having been won over by what he witnessed at the Lestrange Manor and promises of furthering his career.

July 31st 

Greta Catchlove leaves the castle along with Fabian Prewett in order to find out more information about her brother’s killer. Later that night, an unwitting Cassandra Burke is made an easy target without the protection that the castle had provided for her and Walden Macnair finally succeeds in tracking her down. A scuffle ensues but despite putting up a fight the Death Eater is the one who emerges victorious, taking the ‘traitor’ into his custody.

*please message the main if you have any questions about this plot drop and we’ll attempt to clear everything up for you. your character can be a lot more involved than they are in this – as it is only a rough outline and we tried to leave a lot of things open to interpretation, or for characters to step in. please don’t write past July 31st in game time.

[nibimatatabi]

“Don’t.” Her voice is a snarl, something feral, something feline. “You.” She lashes her wand out, the sparks that fly from it turning to flames, turning to death. “Dare!” They strike their mark, the wild haired woman shrieking in outrage.

“FILTHY MUDBLOOD BITCH!” She screams, her gray eyes wide, wild, and yet the mudblood doesn’t so much as flinch. The blonde bares her teeth instead, fury in her eyes as she moves forward, Harry leaving the raised dais and Sirius stepping back. The fluttering veil stops, as if senses its meal might not come as soon as it had hoped.

“You.” She spits the words, stalking toward the woman, keeping low on the steps, blocking the spells that fly, ducking the curses. “Do not.” She strikes out, thin cords flying from her wand, trapping the other woman’s feet. “Get to take.” There is victory and vengeance in her soft blue eyes. “Anyone else.” She realizes with a calm coldness in her chest that it would be so easy for her to kill the woman, who is still striking at her, screaming furiously. Bellatrix Lestrange took so many lives, ruined the Longbottom’s lives, took from Cassandra the most important person she had ever known. The fury is there, ready to spill over, when someone grabs her hip, jerks her down onto the steps. They roll down to the floor.

“No!” Bellatrix shouts, something between fury and fear. “Little bitch!” Cassandra can’t stop the curse rushing at them but she can lessen it, and she does, sweeping the shield across. It cracks and shatters, but Bellatrix is already moving on. “Come on then, come home!” The woman calls, singsong, to the person who has Cassandra on the ground, holding her tightly against their chest and refusing to let her pursue the other woman. They’re about to be running. Cassandra can feel the electric current in the air, and she knows she isn’t the only one.

“Move it!” Kingsley’s voice is loud, commanding, and Cassandra and her - savior? - scramble upright. She’s being pushed forward at first, but then she catches their wrist behind her, her free right hand latching firmly over their left wrist and pulling them with her.

“Thank you.” She doesn’t have the breath to speak, but has to say it anyway when they catch up to a shaken Sirius and Remus.

“You’re not a murderer, Cassandra.” The voice is warm, and safe, and home, and she lets his wrist go, so that he can pull her into his side, just for a moment. “That’s what I am.” Bitter, but they’re moving again, all of them. The kids are faster than the adults - they lack the same aches and pains, and are springier. Cassandra’s heart aches when she sees Alice and Frank’s son limping quickly with the sweet Lovegood girl. God save them, when her eyes sweep the group she realizes they’re racing out with as many as they entered with. No one had died.

Sirius turned into his animagus form as soon as they reached the lobby. Aurors were swarming, there was an outrage of anger from the Minister. Cassandra lifted her wand quickly to disillusion the man beside her, but Kingsley beat her to it. “You got them?” He asked, looking down at the woman. She was pale, favoring one side and trying not to show it.

“Yes.” She turned her head slightly to one side. “Remus?”

“With you.” Kingsley had to do cleanup, but it was safer for Cassandra and Remus to get the Blacks out of there. Quickly. Already media was trying to get in, the familiar face of Rita Skeeter in the group. Cassandra hissed air through her teeth, and she and Remus both grabbed for kids.

“No. Comment.” Her voice was ice cold, a snarl. There was some measure of pride in her at her ability to switch between warmth and ice. It was useful, and had saved her hide on countless occasions.

“Little healer! And just why would anyone need you here?” Cassandra lifted her wand, pointed it at Neville’s ankle, and flicked. He staggered, but caught himself on Luna and was walking fine. “Clever girl. Say, where did-”

“No. Comment.” She repeated, shoving out of the doors and into the streets. Remus put his hand on the back of the dog, Cassandra did as well, and then she hooked her arm with the man beside her, the one who shouldn’t have been there. The reason why she was prepared and willing to kill Bellatrix herself. The ground shifted underfoot, and a moment later they were safe, in a stupid house that was too big, too dusty, with a stupid House Elf who only listened to the younger man in the group. Cassandra’s entire left side hurt from being pulled and tumbling down the stairs, her arm, her leg, her ribs and most importantly her ankle that gave out the moment she was in the hall. “Dammit!” She hissed loudly, and then again when she heard Walburga’s high pitched shrieks.

“Sit. Stay. Good girl.” Regulus tapped her on the head with his hand, striding past her and the panting Sirius behind her to deal with his mother.

“I’m the damned cat not the dog.” She muttered crossly. Sirius growled at her, apparently lacking the energy to turn himself back to human - or being modest for once. Cassandra didn’t care which.

“Your bag is still upstairs?”

“Yeah. In Reg’s room.” Softly now, Remus also patted her on the head, adding something about ‘good girl’ himself. She could see the smile pulling at his lips as he walked away, and she glared. For a thirty-four year old, she could be quite petty.

“You two want to drag yourselves into the drawing room?” Regulus suggested. He had stayed out of the fight, mostly, providing support and backup from the shadows. But Bellatrix had seen him, because Cassandra his his weak spot. The one person, other than Sirius, that he would die to protect. Cassandra and Sirius both whined. “And you’re not the dog?” Regulus narrowed his eyes on Cassandra for a moment, the beautiful slate grey that she loved teasing.

“If I had any energy left, I would kick you right now, love.” Sirius groaned under her, kicking out a leg at her back. “Oh cry me a river, Sirius.” She grumbled, right before Regulus pulled her up and into his arms. He staggered for a moment, apparently more tired than he had thought, before he carried her down the hall, past the moth eaten curtain that hid his charming mother, and then dropped her unceremoniously onto the couch. “I want to enjoy that the next time you do it.” She said softly, blinking sweetly up at Regulus. His nose wrinkled up.

“Next time, it’ll be-” he stopped as Sirius hobbled into the room, dragging his paws slightly. The dog threw himself down onto the floor with a groan. Regulus rolled his eyes, and lowered his head to kiss Cassandra’s forehead. “I’ll have Kreacher make tea.”

“Mhm. Please kill me before Kingsley gets here to debrief us.” She called softly, and was rewarded with Regulus flipping her off. “Why do I love your brother again?” She asked Sirius, who snorted from the floor. A moment later he had found the will to change back, naked on the carpet.

“Because you didn’t love me.” He muttered into the floor. Cassandra rolled her eyes.

“Right.” She dozed off before Remus returned with her medical bag, and pretty soon the drawing room had all four of them in it, Remus on the other couch, Sirius with a robe thrown over him on the floor, and Regulus having moved Cassandra so she was asleep on his chest. Kingsley came in to the sight and shook his head, leaving them be while the rest of the Order arrived.

[halucinorhq]

– the future is unrelenting

You always knew that being so openly involved in the war would have it’s risks, but you never thought it would get as dangerous as it did. After the attack at Godric’s Hollow, everything had changed. No longer was it only about pursuing those who did wrong, but somewhere along the way you had gotten caught in the middle, and now the life of your son was at risk too. Which is why the two of you made the decision together. It was a long time coming, something that had been on your mind for months now. But now you both truly had a concrete reason to, as you’d seen what could happen to those who didn’t run. 

And so you came to the decision that you needed to abandon the battle, for the sake of your son. For the sake of all of your lives. You once thought that the cause was the only thing that mattered, but then you saw what happened to James’s family. And you thought about your own - there was truly no question in the matter. The fight could go on without you. The Aurors would recruit new ones to replace the two of you. It wasn’t worth it anymore. 

Your family had a cottage by the sea that no one knew of, and your parents left it to you after they passed. And so the two of you planned and packed. If only you had prepared for the door flying off it’s hinges, and a swarm of masked black hoods rushing into the room. She ran with the baby, trying to protect him, while you stepped up to protect her - like you always had, like you always would.  They cackled, they taunted you, they interrogated you. And then, they tortured you right in front of her in hopes of getting an answer that neither of you had. If you were stronger, maybe you could’ve fought them off. If you were smarter, maybe you could’ve predicted this. Maybe you could’ve saved your family. 

– the past is unforgiving

ALICE FORTESCUE: When you were in school, it was clear that you wanted her attention all the time. There was something about her that was practically magnetic, and you felt like you needed her. No one was smarter, stronger, or as stubborn as she was, and it drove you mad that she seemed to keep you at arm’s length. You were persistent, though - continuing to stick around and not let whatever sarcastic comments she threw at you deter your efforts. It wasn’t until you both enrolled in the Auror training program right out of school that something seemed to change. Perhaps you both matured, or perhaps you saw the wreckage around you and realized there were more important things in the world than this cat and mouse game. A strange dynamic had evolved into something more of a friendship between you two. It was never a serious relationship, the two of you sleeping together on and off - and perhaps it was better that way. You seemed to have grown out of your infatuation with her, and were able to understand that some things happened for a reason - maybe more than what you had now wasn’t meant to be. What you weren’t expecting, though, was for her to tell you that she was pregnant, and she wanted to have the baby. That seemed to make whatever this dynamic was between you - the one that you two had navigated together to make as simple as possible - it made it more complicated. Having a child together cemented you two in each other’s lives forever - and that was far more involved than two friends who slept together. Still, the idea of having a family was one that enticed you, and so you moved in together to raise him. You’re a family, and it’s one of the few things that makes you happy still. You and Alice may not be the typical parents, but you make it work, and that’s what is important.

KINGSLEY SHACKLEBOLT: There are some friends that just fall into your life, without any announcement or expectations. And sometimes, those friends are the ones you meet on the very first night you spend at Hogwarts. For you, that person has always been Kingsley. He’s been your best friend since the beginning. From being roommates to graduation to working in the Aurors department together - the two of you have been through it all. You’d never had very many friends as a child, as your father was an expert in ancient runes, and was constantly on the search for something new to challenge him, which left you and your mother forced to go along with the constant moves and traveling around the globe. You never really settled down until you entered school, and it seemed that Kinglsey came into you life then for that exact reason. Never one without the other, the professor’s would say - for if they saw one of you, the other surely couldn’t be that far behind. He was the voice of reason when you would get too wound up on certain things, pacing around your room and spouting off all these different thoughts and theories. He’d keep you grounded, and help you to see both sides of every situation, and that presence has helped you more than you could ever imagine. There was a comfort in him always being around, something that helped you to feel more at peace with things. Perhaps that’s why the night that you two toppled onto your four-poster bed, hands and limb entangled with the other’s, mouth moving against each other - it felt normal. More than that, it felt good. Alcohol has a way of exposing a person’s truest thoughts, and you knew that this was had brought out something that you’d never understood before. In the following weeks, though you two laughed it off as a mistake, you ruminated on it for much longer. You knew what a mistake felt like - and to you, even now, it didn’t feel that way.

MARLENE MCKINNON: After being certified as an Auror, you showed your skills and strength, and was quickly regarded as one of the best in the department. You had a passion for doing what was right, and a way of thinking that helped you to explore every possible angle of a problem. You may have had a temper when it came to the job, but that couldn’t outweigh your talents and skills. For that reason, when the new group of recruits came in, they gave you one of them to train. It was a close partnership, you being the guiding voice and the wisdom for whatever new person had successfully made it through the initial training program. You’d trained a few who didn’t make it to the final piece of the training, either backing out when things got too difficult or failing somewhere along the way. And for a while, you considered that maybe it was your training that had contributed to it. But then, Marlene came along. You’d never really known Marlene, only through Kingsley and the way he spoke so highly of her. But she quickly showed who she was, gritty and thrifty and quickly won you over with her similar thinking and passionate ways. You looked at her like a friend, perhaps even like a sister you never had. You enjoyed the fact that she valued your opinion, and you did the same - often talking to her when it seemed like you were the only one thinking straight. When the news broke that she’d gone missing, it was all the more painful. You were the one who trained her, taught her, looked after her until she was given the green light to go. And to hear that she was missing without a trace? It was as if you’d fallen right back to square one - there must’ve been something that you could’ve shown her to help protect her, to prevent this from happening. Now, it was too late, and you’d have to be heartless to not feel a sense of guilt about it. 

SIRIUS BLACK: You consider yourself to be a fair person. Kingsley’s evenly spoken words and his rationalization have left a lasting impact on you, and it now drives a lot of your decisions or thoughts. For that reason, when whispers of spies and traitors began to litter the discussions at Order meetings, you were determined to keep an open mind and not jump to any conclusions. When you’d look around the room and look at the crowd of people that had made it their choice to put their lives on the line to protect others, you couldn’t imagine anyone being twisted enough to stab everyone in the back. However, you’ve always noticed Sirius to be a bit… secretive. There are questions that he won’t answer, and meetings where he’ll show up late and avert everyone’s gaze. You know the history of the Black family, and it’s hard to believe that someone could be so different from the rest of their relatives. You’ve heard about the terrible things about how many of his relatives are Death Eaters who are in close contact with the Dark Lord. And though you may want to give Sirius the benefit of the doubt, you’re also smart enough to know that the apple doesn’t fall that far from the tree. You can’t help that you don’t completely trust him. There’s innocent lives at stake here, and if someone is unwilling to come forth with simple information like why they’re missing meetings every month or so - well, you don’t see anything wrong with mentioning once or twice that you don’t find him trustworthy.

The role of Frank Longbottom will be portrayed by Ross Butler. This character is currently OPEN for application.

[chaoswillfallrpg]

ALICE YEN is THIRTY-THREE YEARS OLD and an AUROR in THE DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL LAW ENFORCEMENT at THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC. She looks remarkably like GEMMA CHAN and considers herself aligned with THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX. She is currently TAKEN.

→ OVERVIEW:

A fearless witch with a heart of gold, Alice Yen has always been a hard worker with a strong sense of right and wrong. The daughter of shop owners MEI and HENRY YEN, Alice grew up above Slug and Jiggers in Diagon Alley surrounded by wonder and wild ingredients. Established in 1207, Alice’s family bought out the store in the latter part of the 18th Century after moving from Hong Kong to London, bringing with them the artistry and flair the shop has become synonymous with. Alchemy ran in the veins of the family and captured the imagination of a young Alice from an early age. Sitting in the back room of their family shop, Alice would watch in awe as her grandparents would mix potions, smoke billowing out from the many jars littered around the work benches as they were labeled meticulously. Though she was raised with magic, Alice never failed to be amazed by her family and would often seek the company of her grandfather who would spend his days excitedly mixing experimental potions to be sold as her grandmother scribbled notes and attempted to fill the shelves with their usual stock. 

Her grandparents were the most insistent she learn how to become an alchemist, attempting to wow their granddaughter with their tricks and skills in the hopes she would want to follow them into the family business with the same level of enthusiasm they wished her parents had. Her grandfather had insisted that like her father, she learn how to begin brewing select potions as soon as she had a steady and capable hand, though her father heavily disagreed and instead allowed Alice to help her grandparents sort the plants and herbs which were sold. Alice enjoyed working with the ingredients more than she enjoyed the idea of brewing potions and had a studious and curious nature that could only truly be satisfied by learning. Although her family shop was lined with interesting and peculiar ingredients, by ten she knew almost all of them by heart and had read almost every book in their back office which described them in detail. A friendly child with a happy disposition and a chatty nature, Alice frequently got into trouble for eavesdropping on customers as she sat in the shop, hoping to help unsuspecting witches and wizards find the ingredients they needed. Some thought it was funny that a little nine year old girl has as much knowledge on Mandrakes and Fluxweed than most adult witches and wizards, whilst others found it quite unprofessional. 

Alice knew her father didn’t like her butting in, but she couldn’t help it. Alice enjoyed being on the floor speaking to interesting people who happened to need their help, especially those who worked at The Ministry of Magic as Aurors. Although the shop was her little place of wonder, nothing quite stuck with Alice as much as the story of the Aurors who frequented their shop. Sent out by The Ministry to capture and follow people of interest, they were frequently in the shop buying things for Polyjuice Potions which although they didn’t say outloud was fairly obvious. ALICIA AVERY-JONES was her favourite. She was a busy woman but would always find time to chat to Alice, telling her of the wonders that lay beyond Diagon Alley, inspiring her to work hard and stick in at school when she got her letter. The day Alice was sorted into Gryffindor was the happiest day of her life, although the hat did remark she would have been a lovely fit in both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had she not been so determined to be with her fellow lions. It was a secret dream of Alice’s to become an Auror, appeasing her family by taking all of the necessary subjects such as Alchemy, Potions and Herbology, whilst also working hard in Charms, Defence Against The Dark Arts and Transfiguration in order to qualify for Auror training upon graduation. 

Everyone who taught Alice during her time at Hogwarts was incredibly fond of her. A hard worker and a kind witch, Alice was a model student who rarely got into trouble, though when she did it was always for the right reasons and had something to do with her best friends CHARITY BURBAGE and KINGSLEY SHACKLEBOLT. Both a Prefect and Head Girl in her final year, Alice’s legacy at Hogwarts was best shown through her compassion for others as she attempted to control the cruel behaviour of some of the younger students, including BELLATRIX BLACK a slightly junior witch she recalled giving detention to on numerous occasions for bullying the Muggle-Born students. Alongside her friends, Alice made it her mission to give a safe space to students in need of her protection and was known to be the person to go to if you needed protection or advice. Alice’s time at Hogwarts had solidified to her what her calling in life was. The actions she’d seen taking place at Hogwarts were deplorable and Alice knew that although she loved her family shop she wanted to make a bigger difference in the world and quietly applied to become an Auror as soon as she left school, with the intention if she made it past the training to tell her family. 

Training was difficult, but Alice was a very talented witch and alongside Kingsley the two graduated with flying colours, leaving Alice to tell her parents. Her grandfather took it the worst, fearing their family legacy may be lost alongside his granddaughter due to the dangers of the job. It was Alice’s father who believed in her the most, she was talented, clever and brilliant enough to succeed and had decided to help out where she could which helped sway him. Having worked in the Auror’s office for a number of years now, Alice’s position is almost unchallenged. Her talent in brewing potions and duelling has established her amongst her department as someone to get to know, meaning she is very popular at work, especially to one her fellow Aurors in particular. FRANK LONGBOTTOM was a year younger than Alice at Hogwarts and a fellow Gryffindor she knew well enough to call a close friend of hers. Someone Alice would argue is more level-headed than he is passionate, something which sometimes gets in the way of Alice’s work, the two make quite a brilliant team and enjoy working together and flirting with one another. Focused on her work, Alice rarely entertains romantic feelings, despite being someone who is very much in love with the idea of love, unless she believes it is something with longevity. 

Currently, she simply considers Frank a good friend, although their most recent work for The Order of The Phoenix has brought them even closer together. With members of the magical community going missing, Alice alongside a few other Aurors have been hand selected by PROFESSOR ALBUS DUMBLEDORE to find and train people who they hope will stand alongside them in what Alice fears will be a war greater than anything they’ve seen before. Alice keeps herself very busy at the moment between her work at The Ministry, The Order and working in her parents shop that keeps her snowed under most days, though she does try her best to have fun. A good friend of MOLLY PREWETT and POPPY POMFREY, Alice can often be find trying to let loose alongside them and the other people in her department who are doing their best to live live their lives and have fun despite the current state of the wizarding world. Despite this, Alice’s work always comes first and she has recently been entrusted with a very important job by Albus Dumbledore himself. Alice has been tracking the movements of her old school nemesis Bellatrix Black, for around a month now, although she is often a difficult witch to find. Dumbledore believes she is somehow connected to the recent string of disappearances and it’s Alice’s job to figure out exactly how she is involved and why without getting caught. 

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Blood Status → Pure-Blood

Pronouns → She/Her

Identification → Cis Female 

Sexuality  →  Up to Roleplayer 

Relationship Status → Single 

Previous Education → Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Gryffindor)

Societies → Sorcerers for Equality 

Family → Henry Yen (father), Mai Yen (mother)

Connections  → Charity Burbage (best friend/housemate), Benjy Fenwick (friend/housemate), Kingsley Shacklebolt (best friend/colleague), Frank Longbottom (close friend/colleague), Hestia Jones (close friend/colleague), Emmeline Vance (close friend/colleague), Molly Prewett (close friend), Poppy Pomfrey (close friend), Arthur Weasley (friend), Dorcas Meadowes (mentee), Alastor Moody (boss), Alicia Avery-Jones (boss/mentor), Bellatrix Black (adversary)  

Future Information → Wife of Frank Longbottom, Mother of Neville Longbottom

ALICE YEN IS A LEVEL 8 WITCH.  

[risingphoenixrp]

John Dawlish | 29 | Slytherin | Pure-Blood | Neutral | FC: Brett Dier

Date of Birth: 1949, England

Occupation: Auror

Ship: No Set Ship

Biography:

John Dawlish always knew he was a good and capable wizard and it was, consequently, no surprise to him that he was sorted into Slytherin - the house of ambition. The only problem?Nobody else seemed to realize the extent of his potential. With the children of sacred houses and those damn attention-grabbing do-gooders-the Longbottoms and the Weasleys and the Prewetts of the world, nobody paid the correct amount of attention to John Dawlish. Those types were always getting into trouble, while John adhered to all the rules and expectations and yet they were favored above him. It wasn’t fair. John thought perhaps it had something to do with looks, so summer between fifth and sixth year, John started working out. While this did win him some attention from the opposite sex, it didn’t have the desired effect-abs didn’t make John the golden boy.

But, school wasn’t the end of all things and John was sure those show offs had peaked during Hogwarts. He worked hard to get the scores to become an auror, deciding law enforcement was where he could finally show his worth and get the recognition he deserved. Through hard work, John knew he could move on to bigger and better departments, on to an advisor to the minister…and then on to minister itself. John put in the time (and the over-time), and though he was lacking in actual arrests, his administrative skills are  excellent. Never a point out of place.

The day Alastor Moody beat him to the position of head-auror is one he counts as one of the darkest of his life. Sure, Moody’s one of the, if not the best auror the department has ever seen, but he doesn’t even believe in the current structure of the Ministry. Moody is  his total and exact opposite, and his loyalty seems to lie with Dumbledore more than with the Minister. John just can’t  understand that, and he’d always privately thought that this would be Moody’s downfall.  But John was wrong. Other than show offs, the one thing John hates the most is being wrong. Now, the person in charge seems to gain personal pleasure in pointing out Dawlish’s flaws, magnifying each of his missteps whenever the opportunity arises. Consequently, John rarely goes on cases anymore, preferring to stick to files and paper work-correcting the things that his supposed colleagues are too disorganized and stupid to do themselves.

In a way, he understands what the so-called Dark Lord is after, and if pressed John will say he doesn’t disagree with all of Voldemort’s ideals per say, just the way his actions are carried out. There are definitely those who are superior to others, his time at the auror department has taught him nothing if not that. John has thought from time to time about joining up with the side he's supposed to be against, but he doesn’t know if he has it in him to work his way through the ranks of another structure, kiss all the same ass all over again. No he's' decided that until there is a finite winner and this war is over,  he’s going to stay out of it. Well as out of it as Crouch and Moody will allow him to stay. He’s lowered his expectations towards his job, now aspiring to perhaps become the Minister’s own bodyguard. If the rest of the auror office wants to get themselves killed or become bigger, more obnoxious targets than they already are, that’s their own choice. Less people for him to climb over on his eventual rise to the top.

Connections:

Alastor Moody

Benjy Fenwick

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Amelia Bones

Frank Longbottom

Alice Prewett-Fortescue

Andromeda Tonks

Arthur Weasley

Molly Weasley

Status: Open