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belated solstices and sheganigans and stuff
Every year. Every year, he somehow forgot what summer actually felt like ( Read more... ) -
closed: so many gingers
Molly had gotten incessant about requesting some proper quality time with her family in the past few weeks (had gone as far as to send a Howler, actually, a bloody Howler, exploding right in the middle of late afternoon rush hour at the Hogsmeade shop), and while George had some bones to pick with her methods of persuasion (a very thin annoyance ( Read more... ) -
closed: half of a whole of a half
He’d forgotten how many days it had been.
That’s how it started, that morning. He’d been holding his infant daughter against his chest, lips muttering soothing nonsense against the top of her head as she finally dozed back to sleep after hours of untimely squirming and jabbering (boy, that little girl could talk), and he’d suddenly remembered. He ( Read more... ) -
flashback: he did what now?
If it hadn't been for the fact that the streets were all but deserted at this usually busy time of year leading up to holidays when Hogwarts students, recently freed from the chains of studying and exams for a quick reprieve, and that half a dozen stores down their end of Diagon Alley alone had their doors boarded up and layers of dust collecting ( Read more... ) -
flashback: celebrations are in order
Years of aspiration and experimentation, months of intense planning and construction, and a lifetime of ambition and wishful thinking later, they had finally done it. The moving top-hat had gone up, the shelves had been stocked, their first handful of employees had been meticulously hired and trained, and, finally, for better or worse, the doors ( Read more... ) -
closed: a drink, or twelve, and maybe some company
It had been two weeks ( Read more... ) -
closed: not the most ideal situation
Molly Weasley was not a woman that was easily phased. She had survived two wars, birthed and raised seven children, and seen the world go crazy a dozen times over ( Read more... ) -
closed: fucking azkaban
Azkaban.
Fucking AzkabanIf there was one place he had never in a million years expected to find himself lining up to visit, this was most definitely it. Even with the Dementors gone, there was a lingering eeriness about the place, a soul-crushing sort of dampness that sank right into your bones and chilled your very soul, as if the prison's ( Read more... ) -
closed: a casual valentine's
Timekeeping had hardly ever been one of George's most prominent skills. From showing up late to class to missing pre-planned engagements of all kinds to being shocked to find specific holidays, birthdays, and other notable days creeping up on him at the last minute, he mostly gaged what day it was based on how busy the shop was, tracked the passing ( Read more... ) -
closed: ronald fuckin' weasley
The past few days had most certainly been, well, eventful. The Burning Man ('Men', rather) had been rounded up and charged without the courtesy of Muggle relations being able to intervene, the Burns ward at St-Mungo's had become a proper feeding ground for journalists of a more unsavory nature, and Harry Potter had taken a proper beating (both ( Read more... )