IT'S BLOODY HOT IN HERE (no, really. it's seriously hot.)
it's the summer holidays! a perfect time to travel, relax, spend time with loved ones and bask in the sun. the wizarding world is lively with energy at this time of year. everyone seems to want to make the most of their break before september comes around the corner and life returns to its normal, mundane pace. it has been especially exciting with the sporadic and strange appearances of old and new faces. some claim to be from a different world while others claim to be from a different time. then, there are the ones who have simply found themselves waking up to be remarkably younger or older. just remember to keep to your curfews, half-bloods and muggle-borns! those eerie disappearances are still happening in an increasingly alarming rate...
MINISTRY OF MAGIC
for the ones who don't have the good fortune of going on holiday, you won't have to worry about having nothing to do, especially if you're part of the ministry of magic! with all the anomalies happening, you're going to have your hands full registering, documenting, interviewing and/or helping with a multitude of busywork relating to the newcomers. or maybe your job doesn't have anything to do with that. maybe you're on the opposite end and you've been brought in. or maybe you're just a tourist and you want to see if you can catch a glimpse of the minister for magic. whatever your reason is, welcome and stay out of people's way!
DIAGON ALLEY
everyone loves to go shopping and what better place to do it than diagon alley? you'll find mills of people looking at all the different items on sale or on display in store windows. maybe you're here to purchase materials for the upcoming school year or you're out on a date with your significant other. or maybe you actually own or work at one of the many shops here. whatever your reason is, you better be ready for the crowd and the heat.
KNOCKTURN ALLEY
oh no! what are you doing here? turn back right now! knockturn alley is no place for you to be. well, at least it isn't if you aren't a dark arts practitioner or you're not part of some nefarious secret group. just turn around and go back to diagon alley. it's much nicer there, friendlier and safer. have you not heard about all the disappearances going on? you're only asking for trouble stepping into a place like this, even if it's remarkably cool here.
M.I.A.V.I.
not in the mood to go out? or maybe you're stuck in the waiting room at st. mungo's trying to figure out why you're suddenly 10 years older and you need a distraction. disregarding the reason, it's sure a good thing you've conveniently brought along your m.i.a.v.i. so feel free to browse the public network, create your own post, or private message someone!
OTHER
not interested in any of the options above? feel free to make up your own! the wizarding world is huge, so get creative with it. the setting is the summer of 1980. have fun testing out and shaping your characters, mingle with others, and start getting those crs down!
[ Andromeda has never considered becoming a part of the Ministry of Magic, even before her dissociation from her family. Bureaucracy eludes her, and although she's well trained and well equipped to handle care of herself when thrown in a snake's den, she'd rather live her life in relative peace outside of it, with Ted by her side. Besides, she enjoys her work as a mediwizard; taking care of others has always been one of her more distinct traits, being the second eldest in a group of three girls (sisters) and two boys (the cousins).
They've been lucky, of course, she knows that most of all. With all the disappearances of muggleborns that've happened over the years, on top of being the one to gain the affection of the eldest of the pureblooded Black sisters, Ted is near the top of some anonymous person's list. It's why marriage is out of the question for now — Andromeda may have been considered a disgrace, but the Black name still strikes fear in the hearts of men everywhere, and no Black has ever been considered weak. There's protection, however little, that she can provide using a name she no longer wishes to have.
It's also why, of course, she can walk through the halls of the ministry when needed, head held high — a pureblood with a pure name, safe and privileged.
Although, Andromeda's presence in the ministry doesn't often signal a good thing. Andromeda gained reputation in St. Mungo's by being one of the quickest and most successful mediwizards when answering emergency floo-calls, so she tends to be the one that shows up when something happens. Besides, no one wants to go and stay at St. Mungo's. If she can fix your fuck up without having to magically strap you to a hospital bed, then all the better for everyone. ]
DIAGON ALLEY.
[ Andromeda keeps a quiet life so she doesn't often show herself in public spaces so as not to accidentally encounter people that she doesn't necessarily wish to make small talk with. But when it becomes necessary, she travels to the Alley and grabs all the essentials. Most likely, she'll be in the apothecary, restocking her supplies, gringotts, or the bookstore.
On occasion, she might stop by Fortescue's, especially during a hot summer day and you'll see her sitting outside, reading a book. But blink twice, and she'll be gone, so if you want to talk to her, you better be quick about it. ]
[The days are warm and though Dora should hold a diet of more than just ice cream for lunch and junk food for supper, there's a slight excitement that is had to be in charge of one's self without truly having to check in with anyone. And the whole ice cream for a meal thing hasn't grown old just yet.
Even if she's started to miss the familiarity of home.
That's, perhaps, why she stops- frozen in place- when she spots her mum reading a book outside Fortescue's. Her trademark colourful hair fades and her freckles reappear- she finds herself staring at Andromeda just a couple feet away from the table she's sitting at...]
Mum?
[Would she even recognize her? Believe her? Should she even be speaking to her?]
[ Andromeda is hardly going to assume that the other person is talking to her, seeing as she's not a mother at all. She does, however, lift up her eyes from the book she's reading out of curiosity, and almost chokes on her ice cream when she finds that the young woman is looking at her.
spluttering, ] I beg your pardon?
[ In a minute, she might see the resemblance to a special someone, but right now, she's just a little shock. ]
[Abort mission. Dora stares back at her like a deer in headlights, shocked and frozen when she should just run away. That would be a good enough solution to all of this. Perhaps if this continues to be just as awkward as it is right now.
She'd just have to will her legs to move.]
I... I'm sorry, I must have mistaken you for... [Her mother. Which she is, to be perfectly fair. There was no mistake on Dora's part- she was certain of it. Her hair began to slowly change, the brown getting a light pink hue as though the flustered blush she was keeping from her cheeks chose to appear in her hair instead.]
[ There's too many things going on at once — from the changing hair (she's a metamorphmagus, Andromeda thinks, thoughts running a little wildly) to the fact that she's been called a mother, and for a moment, Andromeda can only stand there with wide eyes and half-open mouth, the innate knowledge of forming and saying words coming a little too slowly for her own liking.
Still, she recovers slightly, raising her free hand in an attempt to calm... well, if not the young woman, then herself, really. ]
[The easiest way out of this mess is to offer a false name and walk away- leaving her mum none the wiser. But loathe as the teenager was to admit it, she missed her. So, she took a deep breath.]
Nymphadora... [She carefully kept herself from making a face at the full name as she pauses a beat before continuing.] Tonks. Nymphadora Tonks.
[ She gasps — Tonks, this girl says, with hair so colorful she can't even check whether she is truly hers, but she should have known. Who else could it be? Andromeda would know anywhere the shape of that face, that nose, that pleasant voice. Right now, she looks nothing like a Black.
She doesn't know, truly, whether to laugh or cry. She reaches out to her — Nymphadora, her daughter — and holds her hand. ]
I — This isn't the place.
[ She tries not to look around, if there's anyone listening to this conversation. ]
[This was all so confusing- but with her mum holding her hand and looking up at her like that... With her insisting to not press the topic any further in public... Dora's brow furrows slightly, but she nods all the same.]
Sure.
[She attempts a little smile, despite all the thoughts running through her mind, and squeezes her hand. The most important thing, however, was making sure she didn't lose control of her hair color again. That would, probably, attract too much attention.]
[There's a lot running through Dora's mind right now- primarily that she apparently doesn't exist in this timeline. And perhaps that should be a bit of a warning for her- given everything that's going on here.
But her mum is her mum and no matter of alternate realities will change that. That smile, though...]
[ well, andromeda, did you expect your patient today to be one of your cousins? no? then perhaps you can match him, because he both did not expect to be a patient at all and did not expect to see just who he sees striding through the doors of the muggleborn registration offices.
regulus pales slightly, swearing and sitting up straighter in the chair he's in. it's not too bad - thankfully - though he's bleeding from his wand hand where it looks a little like a penknife has been jammed into it. normally a quick fix, but it'll need a restorative to make sure the nerves and tendons knit back together properly. ]
'Dromeda. [ the sound of it is a breath - he hasn't even really seen her except in passing glimpses since she became a disgrace but he doesn't comment on that, just instinctively uses the name for her he has since he was a child. the youngest of all of them.
right. people are around. he scowls, shooing his coworkers away with a look. ] They check for cursed objects when people arrive, but nothing so simple as a knife. [ dryly.
[ Her breath hitches at the sight of him, at the sound of her name leaving his lips, but no matter the expression she might've had on her face, she quickly schools it into something more neutral. Professional and benign. A talent that comes to her easily, having been brought up in the kind of world, the kind of family, where the face you show the world must be the face you want them to see.
Once Regulus' coworkers have shuffled away, Andromeda doesn't hesitate to close the door behind her. There will be some petty gossip, surely, but it's a matter of privacy. She's certain that some of them would not have wanted to see a knife being pulled out of someone, doesn't have the stomach for blood the way Andromeda — or, perhaps even Regulus — probably does.
She kneels down right beside him immediately, pulling out her bag of emergency medical potions and other such necessities, examining the damage. His assessment is correct, and she pulls out a potion to hand over to him. ]
Drink this, to ease the pain. It's a quick fix, but it will hurt briefly.
[ With her wand ready, she looks up at him, scanning his other signs and — just looking, really. It's been a while, and Regulus has grown up so well. ]
[ regulus doesn't say anything for a moment, doesn't flinch because of the wound (he's had worse being out on missions), doesn't do a lot of things. he does watch andromeda move, does let his eyes follow her, does meter his breathing. when she reaches to hand him the potion he nods, taking the bottle and uncorking it one-handed easily so that he can tip his head back to drink it. it burns a little and he grimaces but he knows it's better than the alternative, which is letting the unabated pain continue.
he's still holding onto the bottle when he straightens out his arm and nods again, clear grey eyes settling on andromeda again and searching her face like he's looking for something. love, hate, disappointment. it doesn't matter. something. ]
I'm ready.
[ he's silent again a moment but then he speaks again in a rush and he sounds young, almost vulnerable. ] I'm only doing my job. Most people that work here don't care about anyone that comes in here. I want to make sure they get home safe at least.
[ Kind, she would have said, but she bites her lip. ]
— Dutiful.
[ That, if anything, makes her sound a little sadder. Andromeda may not have first-hand experience over what goes on in here, but she knows people that do — visitors that don't really have anything good to say about the experience. The rest of them, the pure-bloods in control, perhaps they are just doing their jobs, but Andromeda is smart enough to know that not all of them are like Regulus.
But she goes and continues her work, knowing that this is not the place, or the person, to speak her mind to. The easy and most painful part first — pulling the knife out of him. Excruciating, but the potion should numb the pain quickly after the initial flash of discomfort. It's all advanced wandwork, after that — knitting everything back together with barely a sound coming from her mouth, eyes trained to critically assess and correct the damage.
When she finally siphons the blood off his hand, all that's left is a very thin scar. ]
( The call had been placed by an assistant within the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, so Andromeda must have known just which particular pit of hell she was going to step into from the beginning. The details were a little vague – a man had been injured on-duty, hex gone wrong, non-fatal, blood-loss – the entire thing sounded a little like someone was busier spewing cool words than actively trying to inform St. Mungo's about the degree of help needed.
Anyway, she'll find herself directed to the office of the head of the department, where the injured man isn't being actively helped as much as he's just found himself at the receiving end of what can colloquially be described as "a royal bollocking". Somehow, Bella seems to have taken his failure quite personal. The worst is over, though – when Andromeda arrives, the door will be leaning open, and she'll hear an all too familiar voice, saying: )
Do bleed on the upholstery, Avery, I dare you.
( When she enters, she'll find one (1x) maliciously glaring sister who absolutely did not expect to see her of all people and one (1x) injured man, bleeding profoundly from a gash across his face. Strangely enough, neither of them seem to have gotten the notification that it is summer, or maybe long sleeves are just a particular trend within the ministry.
And all three people know that Bella, an experienced yet paranoid duelist, knows well and good how to fix this, could at least stop the bleeding, if she only wanted to. )
Of all people.
( She is breathing the words out rather than hissing them, but the effect is much the same. )
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andromeda black.
They've been lucky, of course, she knows that most of all. With all the disappearances of muggleborns that've happened over the years, on top of being the one to gain the affection of the eldest of the pureblooded Black sisters, Ted is near the top of some anonymous person's list. It's why marriage is out of the question for now — Andromeda may have been considered a disgrace, but the Black name still strikes fear in the hearts of men everywhere, and no Black has ever been considered weak. There's protection, however little, that she can provide using a name she no longer wishes to have.
It's also why, of course, she can walk through the halls of the ministry when needed, head held high — a pureblood with a pure name, safe and privileged.
Although, Andromeda's presence in the ministry doesn't often signal a good thing. Andromeda gained reputation in St. Mungo's by being one of the quickest and most successful mediwizards when answering emergency floo-calls, so she tends to be the one that shows up when something happens. Besides, no one wants to go and stay at St. Mungo's. If she can fix your fuck up without having to magically strap you to a hospital bed, then all the better for everyone. ]
DIAGON ALLEY.
On occasion, she might stop by Fortescue's, especially during a hot summer day and you'll see her sitting outside, reading a book. But blink twice, and she'll be gone, so if you want to talk to her, you better be quick about it. ]
WILDCARD.
diagon alley!
Even if she's started to miss the familiarity of home.
That's, perhaps, why she stops- frozen in place- when she spots her mum reading a book outside Fortescue's. Her trademark colourful hair fades and her freckles reappear- she finds herself staring at Andromeda just a couple feet away from the table she's sitting at...]
Mum?
[Would she even recognize her? Believe her? Should she even be speaking to her?]
no subject
spluttering, ] I beg your pardon?
[ In a minute, she might see the resemblance to a special someone, but right now, she's just a little shock. ]
no subject
She'd just have to will her legs to move.]
I... I'm sorry, I must have mistaken you for... [Her mother. Which she is, to be perfectly fair. There was no mistake on Dora's part- she was certain of it. Her hair began to slowly change, the brown getting a light pink hue as though the flustered blush she was keeping from her cheeks chose to appear in her hair instead.]
Well... my mum.
no subject
Still, she recovers slightly, raising her free hand in an attempt to calm... well, if not the young woman, then herself, really. ]
Wait, wait! What's your name?
no subject
Nymphadora... [She carefully kept herself from making a face at the full name as she pauses a beat before continuing.] Tonks. Nymphadora Tonks.
no subject
She doesn't know, truly, whether to laugh or cry. She reaches out to her — Nymphadora, her daughter — and holds her hand. ]
I — This isn't the place.
[ She tries not to look around, if there's anyone listening to this conversation. ]
Would you come — with me? To my home.
no subject
Sure.
[She attempts a little smile, despite all the thoughts running through her mind, and squeezes her hand. The most important thing, however, was making sure she didn't lose control of her hair color again. That would, probably, attract too much attention.]
no subject
[ Andromeda smiles, and it's more than just a little sincere, reveling in the warmth in her hands. This is her child after all, her child with Ted. ]
Have I ever Apparated with you before? It's only a little uncomfortable.
no subject
But her mum is her mum and no matter of alternate realities will change that. That smile, though...]
Yeah, we have. Don't worry, I can handle it.
m.i.a.v.i. un: sblack
Drinks? Dinner? A walk amongst Diagon Alley? I'm bored and I don't know where Potter's run off to. Entertain me?
un: and.black
no subject
and I even cleaned it up afterwards. [Because James' mum made him, but.]
no subject
Time and place?
no subject
no subject
no subject
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Alright, it's a date. :)
Ted mentioned that a friend of his family's own a new restaurant somewhere in downtown London. I could ask him for directions.
no subject
Brill! Let's do it, I'll pop by with Portia and we can be sort of incognito.
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You still have that blasted motorbike? It's a deathtrap, Sirius.
(no subject)
ministry of magic.
regulus pales slightly, swearing and sitting up straighter in the chair he's in. it's not too bad - thankfully - though he's bleeding from his wand hand where it looks a little like a penknife has been jammed into it. normally a quick fix, but it'll need a restorative to make sure the nerves and tendons knit back together properly. ]
'Dromeda. [ the sound of it is a breath - he hasn't even really seen her except in passing glimpses since she became a disgrace but he doesn't comment on that, just instinctively uses the name for her he has since he was a child. the youngest of all of them.
right. people are around. he scowls, shooing his coworkers away with a look. ] They check for cursed objects when people arrive, but nothing so simple as a knife. [ dryly.
it hurts, but seeing her hurts more. ]
i'm already sad
Once Regulus' coworkers have shuffled away, Andromeda doesn't hesitate to close the door behind her. There will be some petty gossip, surely, but it's a matter of privacy. She's certain that some of them would not have wanted to see a knife being pulled out of someone, doesn't have the stomach for blood the way Andromeda — or, perhaps even Regulus — probably does.
She kneels down right beside him immediately, pulling out her bag of emergency medical potions and other such necessities, examining the damage. His assessment is correct, and she pulls out a potion to hand over to him. ]
Drink this, to ease the pain. It's a quick fix, but it will hurt briefly.
[ With her wand ready, she looks up at him, scanning his other signs and — just looking, really. It's been a while, and Regulus has grown up so well. ]
Tell me when you're ready.
i regret nothing
he's still holding onto the bottle when he straightens out his arm and nods again, clear grey eyes settling on andromeda again and searching her face like he's looking for something. love, hate, disappointment. it doesn't matter. something. ]
I'm ready.
[ he's silent again a moment but then he speaks again in a rush and he sounds young, almost vulnerable. ] I'm only doing my job. Most people that work here don't care about anyone that comes in here. I want to make sure they get home safe at least.
no subject
[ Kind, she would have said, but she bites her lip. ]
— Dutiful.
[ That, if anything, makes her sound a little sadder. Andromeda may not have first-hand experience over what goes on in here, but she knows people that do — visitors that don't really have anything good to say about the experience. The rest of them, the pure-bloods in control, perhaps they are just doing their jobs, but Andromeda is smart enough to know that not all of them are like Regulus.
But she goes and continues her work, knowing that this is not the place, or the person, to speak her mind to. The easy and most painful part first — pulling the knife out of him. Excruciating, but the potion should numb the pain quickly after the initial flash of discomfort. It's all advanced wandwork, after that — knitting everything back together with barely a sound coming from her mouth, eyes trained to critically assess and correct the damage.
When she finally siphons the blood off his hand, all that's left is a very thin scar. ]
I'm afraid skin care is out of my expertise.
[ It's a joke, kind of. She's trying? ]
super late ministry family adventures?
Anyway, she'll find herself directed to the office of the head of the department, where the injured man isn't being actively helped as much as he's just found himself at the receiving end of what can colloquially be described as "a royal bollocking". Somehow, Bella seems to have taken his failure quite personal. The worst is over, though – when Andromeda arrives, the door will be leaning open, and she'll hear an all too familiar voice, saying: )
Do bleed on the upholstery, Avery, I dare you.
( When she enters, she'll find one (1x) maliciously glaring sister who absolutely did not expect to see her of all people and one (1x) injured man, bleeding profoundly from a gash across his face. Strangely enough, neither of them seem to have gotten the notification that it is summer, or maybe long sleeves are just a particular trend within the ministry.
And all three people know that Bella, an experienced yet paranoid duelist, knows well and good how to fix this, could at least stop the bleeding, if she only wanted to. )
Of all people.
( She is breathing the words out rather than hissing them, but the effect is much the same. )