Different from Song and Story

Albus Severus Potter.  21.  He/Him.  Potioneer and Chemist.  Slytherin alumni, current student of St. John's College.  Never caffeinated enough.

[roxannexxolivia]

Creepin’ On The Down-Low | Al

[alchemicalpotter]

roxannexxolivia‌:

Roxanne excused herself from another boring conversation, having spent a majority of the first hour or so of the Gala making the necessary appearances that were expected of her and holding her tongue whenever someone praised Percy’s success. Their beloved Minister had made her department practically useless, with his own handpicked crew assigned to security for the event. Not only was it a slap in the face to the DMLE–what did it say to the general public when you made law enforcement look like they weren’t even trusted to do their own job? She certainly wasn’t going to take the fall for anyone’s incompetence. 

However, the lull in duties did give her the perfect opportunity to go sticking her nose around where it didn’t belong. With her obligatory formalities sufficiently completed, she had the perfect window to disappear into castle unnoticed, excusing herself to the bathroom as she had discussed with Phoebe prior to the execution of the great information heist. Roxanne slipped into the hallway leading away from the Gala, walking with purpose as if she were supposed to be there so as not to raise suspicion.

After a few minutes, she heard footsteps coming from around the corner. She had prepared plenty of excuses for her wandering (something forgotten in her old office, the noise was simply too much to bear, even the dreaded fear of the public loo) and had brushed up on her memory charms, but she had been hoping not to run into anyone too early in her endeavors. As far as she was concerned, the less people she had to tiptoe around, the better. She took a steadying breath and prepared to put her best well-behaved Ministry employee face on, but was relieved (albeit, quite shocked) to come across a familiar face.

“Merlin, Al– give a girl a warning if you’re gonna slink around back here, aye? I thought I was going to have to give some Unspeakable ass-kisser a taste of my right hook!”

Albus had slipped inside of Hogwarts for a respite.  The castle wasn’t exactly a comfort, not like for some..  His Father had told stories about how it was his favorite place on earth, his first home and the place he returned to more oft than not.  He tried not to think of him now, standing on the lawn in a baleful symbolic post: the Hero in civilian robes, the last sign of a stripped DMLE.  He shook his head and cleared his mind. 

No, Hogwarts hadn’t always been a comfort, but it was someplace that had tested him and challenged him.  To that, he owed it quite a lot.  He’d come to pay homage to the potion masters who trained him, the professors who had given their time and knowledge to the school.  The small alcove of portraits around the corner from the classroom that held great potioneers and alchemists, who had talked with him when others did not have the time or scope.  

They deserved a hello.

Albus was returning to the party, knowing that any absence of his would be noted with a degree of attention that was certainly telling, when he all but collided with someone.  Thankfully, he was used to running into family.  At least it was someone he was on speaking terms with.  

“Warning defeats the purpose of slinking.  And rather against the Slytherin house code of conduct.  Page 4, section two, under annoying the lions,” he replied without missing a beat, his smile spreading as he talked.  He gave Rox a look and arched an eyebrow.  “So why particularly would you be clobbering a comrade in arms?” He paused, blinked, and narrowed his eyes.  “And why are you sneaking about then?”  Feels like he’d buried the lead there, but no matter.  

Damn but his wits were fried. 

[alchemicalpotter]

Gate Crushed - Albus & Danny

[alchemicalpotter]

daniel--molina‌:

Danny was pretty severely underdressed for the occasion. The only time he really did manage to pull something off that wasn’t just a borrowed sweatshirt and jeans was when he borrowed a whole ass suit for a party in February. But upon his arrival he had seen someone he actually recognized–even though the crowd of stuffy ass real adults.

“Nah, fam, this is like—the last stop before I really—y’know—go.” Danny had plans to finally leave the UK, but not before he found the Loch Ness Monster. “Nessie’s waiting for me—then after that I’m on the next train to what, France?”

But even the gusto was lacking when he said his unplanned plans out loud. As much as he didn’t want to admit it out loud, Danny was getting tired—and he missed his own mother, much so that he was spending more time with Mama Naomi than he really should be.

“Besides, y’all have a lake right here—I hear y’all had merpeople here—I’m sure they’ll like, give me directions or whatever. But I also heard that there’s a party up in here, and where else to get lit than a huge ass castle in the middle of nowhere?”

Albus gave a little huff of laughter and rolled his eyes.  Loch Ness and it’s legend were something he’d never quite understood.  Pretty environs to be sure, but little else.  He hummed, giving a look towards the lake.

“We do, yes.  And a giant squid, though they don’t care for people much.  Either of them.  Some of the mer would tap on the window in the dungeons though,” he replied with a wistful little smile.  Memories of when life had been easier.  

“Muggle transit out?  I suppose that’s quicker and more assured to be a direct route rather than something more tracked like an international portkey,” he mused, flashing Danny a concerned look.  His friend was skirting some of the more dangerous aspects of the current administration.  And there was sure to be someone looking for points.  “Not sure if getting lit is the best thing for this party, mate.  Lot of eyes and a lot of people on the prowl today.” He winced.  He was getting suspicious in his old age.  

Didn’t make him wrong though.  

“You magicing over to Loch Ness or going to drive?”

[alchemicalpotter]

Gate Crushed - Albus & Danny

@daniel--molina

Albus could not begin to express how much he detested formal wizarding fashion.  The robes and the uncomfortable fabrics and the just tons of horridly colored organza were all enough to drive him spare.  But here he was, with his best “I’m a good loser yes I am” face on.  

That, much like his formal robes, was not an option.  

Weasley family meeting had made that clear enough.  They were all to line up behind the new Minister.  There’d been more than one whispered conversation that ended when he drew near.  His mum looked at him with fear evident in her eyes.  First her husband, then her middle child.  Potters were flouting the Ministry.  Well, no more.  They were to fall in line.

Which is why Albus was wearing a bloody ascot.  Ridiculous.  

He let his eyes wander, toying with the stem of the glass that held the sparkling pumpkin juice.  He’d been axed by the Ministry bar tenders tonight.  Uncle’s orders.  So a sober Potter was looking for something to catch his eyes. 

And there it was in Big D himself.  

It was a dangerous place for the American really.  He presumed security was going to be tighter than this, more scrutiny placed on the people attending.  He shifted, taking a slow and curving amble into the other man’s space.  

“Surprised to see you here, Danny,” he murmured, a little curious smile flickering across his lips.  “Doesn’t much seem like your affair at all.”  He raised his glass, trying to look as innocuous as possible.  

[alchemicalpotter]

On The Backburner

Albus waved as he walked out of the apothecary, a bright smile on his face and his bag filled with ingredients too precious to shrink.  Bulk purchases of good, wholesome ingredients that were perfect for making good, wholesome potions the traditional way: calming draughts and Pepper-Up, cures dragonpox and the common cold.  All the things a traditional potioneer needed.  He was licensed after all.

And all of it was for show.  Right down to the smile and the bloody uncomfortable robes he was wearing.

Albus Potter was no fool.  He knew there was a Ministry goon watching him whenever he was on Diagon Alley or the Hogsmeade high street or any of the few little wixen communities he could go into freely.  Travel between the magical and muggle worlds was restricted to the point of insanity, though how the hell they thought they could manage London was beyond him.  It was too easy to slip between the two, especially if you could be inconspicuous and keep your head down.

And damn if Al wasn’t studied in that fine art.

Things had been changing since his Uncle Percy won the election.  The restrictions placed on moving between the magical and the mundane were tightened.  He was thankful he’d at least managed to sit his exams before those rules went in place; he’d worked hard for that chemistry degree along with his potioneering license.  Before they’d snapped the jaws of traditionalism tight, restricting all these outside influences that were “polluting” the magical community these days.  Traditional magical business got tax breaks, were pushed to prominence.  Which was probably a back handed benefit to his own brother’s business, but the support Uncle Percy had now was enough to quiet dissention.

Needless to say, it had put this young Potter into an awkward place.

His outspoken campaigning for his Aunt Hermione, his very enrollment at Oxford, and his choice of dress and lifestyle had painted a large target on his back.  He was practically the poster child for everything that Percy and his new government stood against.  Plus there was the whole dead-boyfriend thing, which really wasn’t good press though it did make him somewhat sympathetic.  Except in the circles saying it was his fault.  Which was enough for the rumor to have traction.

So here was Albus, dressed in robes, walking back towards the apparation point to go to his parent’s home.  Like the good little wizard he was.  Or he pretended to be.  Buried in the bags were ingredients more sinister, things for dreamless sleep and wolfsbane potions, for Elixir’s of defense and Polyjuice.  Things to continue his research too.  And things to experiment with.  He’d package them up and send them out by the Royal Mail once he could slip away, posting the packages to an alias and picking them up in a small village in Scotland.

A small muggle town in which he owned a cottage.

Albus couldn’t disappear.  He couldn’t drain his Gringotts account and just vanish.  But he could syphon off bits and pieces from his expenses at Oxford.  Could transfer what had been in the muggle account under his name.  He’d built a small shell identity, with enough capital to purchase property north of Glasgow in the middle of bloody nowhere.

And then dump spell after spell into the property to make it Unplottable.  To make it discrete.  To keep people from noticing, or asking questions.  Or well, that was the intention.  But who the hell knew if it worked.  No one was looking for it yet.

It was his escape, his option should the need arise.

He nodded to Old Hob, a friendly veteran of the Aurors who was standing watch over the point today.  Hob was one of the good ones, one of the people who smiled and tipped his head with the young Potter needed to slip by.  There were folks in the world who still held to the Potter name; old Aurors who didn’t like the changes, members of Aunt Hermione’s reform party, shopkeepers and folks who new the great Harry Potter as a child.  And his own connections too.  He had a string of apothecaries, magical botanists and herbalists, and potions masters who knew him, respected him.  They slipped him things if he asked discretely.

Albus had options.  And he was using them to put things in motion.  He wasn’t sure where they’d end up, but he knew the direction.  And he knew it was better than the one his world was going now.

[marius--lestrange]

The Limits of Criminal Justice: [ Albus | Marius ]

[alchemicalpotter]

marius--lestrange‌:

“Who the hell is Goldstein?”

Marius repeated his question again, not that the new messenger or Albus was really listening—nor did either really have time to explain what was going on. Everyone was just shouting over everyone else, though it didn’t take long for Albus to grab Marius by the arm.

Well, at least he was about to find out who Goldstein was. Marius was more dumbfounded by the fact that he was basically thrown into a fireplace and out another one. Marius coughed wildly as ash and soot devoured him and Albus; he was used to Floo now that it was his basic means of transportation without a wand, but not when someone else was at the helm.

He was hacking as the two of them tumbled into the lobby of the hospital. Marius has never been here before; most of his medical needs were taken care of by a hired physician who came to the manor, and never serious enough to warrant a real hospital visit. Marius shook Albus off his arm and dusted himself off before trying to look composed despite all the yelling and being pulled into another location against his will.

“Excuse me,” Marius started towards the receptionist. “We’re here to see Goldstein?”

Albus had truly acted without thinking on this one.  Jumping them through the Floo and straight to the hospital like Aloma would even want to see him.  He clicked his tongue, looking about and trying to get his bearings.  He was familiar enough with reception, with where the wards were and how to get from here to his friend to...well that would come later.  He nodded and turned towards the desk, following after Marius.  Time for a bit of stagecraft really.

One of the first things he’d learned how to do when he left the shelter of his childhood home was to hide.  The second was to look like a hapless Potter.  It was amazing how often that worked to his favor. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know where she is, would you?” he asked, voice holding just a bit of a waiver.  Large eyes through his fringe, worry his lower lip.  Hand fiddle with the sleeves of his robe, all to give the illusion of someone lost.  “I know someone said they brought her here.  And I just...” The shuddering breath.

And he had a room number.  

He thanked the receptionist profusely, not at all sure if there was a policy that said he couldn’t or if he was just deluding himself into thinking he’d snuck into the place.  And he all but dragged Marius after him, leaning on the other man as if he was the supportive friend. 

“Merlin, you’d think they’d have better security here,” he muttered once they were out of earshot.  He turned a corner, straightened up, and dropped any pretense of being upset.  “Right.  Think we can find a lab?  I have an idea.”  He paused.  “Probably a bad idea.  Lite crime, you know?”

[goldentaube]

After the Fall || Open

[alchemicalpotter]

goldentaube‌:

Falling. That was all Aloma really processed before she woke up in a bed at St. Mungo’s. She wasn’t sure if it had been the broom or her skill that had caused her to lose her balance, but she didn’t remember hitting the ground. She groaned a little as she tried moving, reasonably sore all over. She couldn’t really feel the fingers on her right hand, and she definitely couldn’t see that well out of her swollen eye but she was still alive so she couldn’t have fallen that hard. She looked around a little, trying to get a bearing of her surroundings when she winced a little, moving to rub her neck gently,

“What happened?”

Albus had been hovering around the door, eyes flitting between the prone form of us friend and the hallway.  There were nefarious acts up and about beyond the door, but whatever was happening there, he felt he had to stop in here.  Guilt was one hell of a motivator.  The sound of Aloma’s voice had his fidgeting stopping and his eyes snapping to the bed.  He sucked in a breath.  

“That, my dear, is a question for the ages,” he murmured, stepping closer.  “Something about a broom and a thunk on the head seems to be the general consensus.” He flashed what he hoped was a supportive smile.  “Can I get you anything?  Fetch a nurse or a healer?”  

[alchemicalpotter]

The Limits of Social Grace - Open

[alchemicalpotter]

dommi-weasley‌:

“Risque?” With an eyebrow raised and a smile on her face she questioned her cousin. “Are we looking to pull tonight? You know I’m seeing this quidditch player? Well not seeing, but seeing. I think you’d like him Al, if he swung your way. We’ll have to find one for you.” While she was idly talking about finding Albus a hot quidditch player to talk home with him, they approached the large shop her cousin had been leading her towards and pushed open the glass door to be greeted with the smell of expensive perfume and leather. 

Dominique took them straight towards the designer section, “I need to get a dress first and then find shoes to match,” she told him, sorting through a large rack of pristinely hung clothes. By the time she had pulled them aside to see each dress better they were not quite so neat, but at least she had an armful of hangers and dresses to try on. 

“Can we get one of those big private changing rooms please?” She asked as soon as the shop assistant approached them. “I believe we’re on the Potter accound?” She gestured towards Albus, he was sure to sort it out. 

“Well my boyfriend-” Albus started and choked on the words.  Could he joke about this yet?  To Dom of all people?  He swallowed.  “A-anyway, let’s just say the stand ins for another person get old after a while.” Get shagged and forget about the man missing from his life for the past few weeks.  Sounded like a good plan.  “I hope he’s seeing you properly at least.  Never liked with a friend didn’t live up to the hype, you know?” He waggled his eyebrows.  Nothing worse than a dick appointment that didn’t end with feeling boneless. 

Al couldn’t help the smile that spread over his lips as he watched his cousin attack the rack.  Yep, this was a good way to get someone’s attention.  He nodded along, agreeing with a few choices and loudly decrying one or two of the frocks she tried to put into her arms.  But there was plenty there by the time an assistant approached.  

“Potter, that’s correct,” he murmured, flashing his ID.  The assistant nodded and suddenly was far more chipper.  They were lead to a plush room, comfortable seats and a screen for privacy.  A large swath of mirrors and a platform from which to see every angle.  Al threw himself gracefully into one of the armchairs and smirked.  

“A bottle of Krug while you’re on the get, would you?  And send up the head of mensware and someone to show my cousin the new line of ladies boots.” He adopted the tone he’d taken in Slytherin, the little drawl and the silky sweet words that promised calm seas if you just obeyed.  He flashed a wink Dom’s way.  “Talk about service yeah?  Now!” He clapped and eyed the bundle of dresses.  “Just how electric do you want to look tonight Dommy?”

[alchemicalpotter]

Of Reactive Qualities - Albus & Aidan

“I’d apologize for things not being more interesting, but you know what potioneering can be like,” Albus quipped from his lab stool, eyes flicking up to his acquaintance with a rueful grin.  He remembered more than a few times sitting with Aidan in the library at Hogwarts and pouring over potions work.  And he was glad to find that passion still existed in the middle Wood.  Might even be a respite what with the broom grounding.  “You caught me in the wonderful wait and observe phase.”  The sarcasm was dripping from his tongue as he turned his eyes to the simmering cauldrons on the far wall.  

Bastarding spells needed hours before he could test them.  Hence why he was currently adding another coat of colour to his nails.  Dashing Slytherin green of course.  

“Were you looking to launch into a project or just brew something for fun?” he asked, eyes focused on his painting and not on his friend moving about the lab space.  The blood samples were all carefully hidden under a warded flagstone in the ground, really only giving themselves away by being colder than the rest of the room given the stabilizing charms on the space.  And there wasn’t anything else too dodgy in here.  He blinked.  Well maybe.  “Because I’ve never turned away from brewing as foreplay you know,” he teased, flashing a smirk in the other man’s direction and waiting to see if he took the bait.

@itsaidanwood

[marius--lestrange]

The Limits of Criminal Justice: [ Albus | Marius ]

[alchemicalpotter]

marius--lestrange‌:

“I mean… takes a shitstain to know a shitstain, huh?” Marius exhaled, a little unsure he was being sarcastic or if he was just trying to diffuse the tension. He blinked and took a moment to dust the soot from his pant leg—a minor inconvenience about being unwanded.

He took a deep breath, a little frustrated. “I don’t want to hear about the whole—“ And Marius waved his hands around, though he was unsure he was really actually aware of what this study had been intended to do. “—never mind! You—you’re literally related to Harry /fucking/ Potter and you couldn’t convince someone you didn’t have to blackmail to let you stab them with a needle?”

God, he was working for—/with/—an idiot. Marius paced back and forth along the line of fireplaces, before pausing to stare into the flames. He shouldn’t /care/ about the results—but he shouldn’t really be offering to help Albus either—and yet here he was, doing what he shouldn’t be doing—

Someone leaped out of the fireplace, throwing himself at the pair and gasping for breath. “Goldstein–I need Goldstein! His daughter–is–at the hospital–” 

Marius blinked. Who the fuck was Goldstein?

Albus would have melted Marius if he could.  The infuriating little bastard had ticked every box that send the Potter boy mad.  And he couldn’t decide just which mad he was going when around his unwilling accomplice these days.  Which, bad signs really.  

The Lestrange boy was sounding less and less horridly wrong.  Further bad signs.  

“I convinced plenty!  But it’s sort of idiotic to only be looking at your relatives!” he hissed back.  The ones that wouldn’t run to their grandmother, or worse his mother, and blab that little Alby was playing with blood.  God only know what rumors would run the family circuit then.  He groaned and rolled his eyes skyward.  Now he was being reminded of why Marius as an absolute shit.

The flash of heat and the screaming shook him from whatever snappy retort was coming.  He pointed the man towards the checkpoint and the Aurors.  They’d get the message to-

“Goldstein!” he hissed, eyes wide.  Flashes of his classmate ran through his mind and he reached out, grabbing at the other man’s sleeve.  “Fuck me I know her!” It was never exactly an easy feeling.  He knew too many of the missing. Or injured.  Or dead.  His grip tightened, clearly forgetting the incident in the bank.  “Hospital.  I...hum.  We need to go.  Now.”

He should probably feel bad that his reason for stepping towards the fireplace was in no way altruistic.  This though?  Well it might be an opening.

[alchemicalpotter]

OPHELIA, CRESSIDA, BEATRICE, BENVOLIO

OPHELIA: Is there anything you regret not doing?

Yeah a bit.  People I regret not knowing better.  People I regret not doing.  Classes untaken, books unread.  Gettin the fuck outta England before the gates snapped shut.

CRESSIDA: What makes you feel trapped?

People asking for a Potter, with that name said like a prayer.

BEATRICE: What is the achievement you’re most proud of?

Odgen’s Hall.  I got into this one on my own merits, my marks in potions.  Blind practical results.  That is all me.  

BENVOLIO: What comes to mind when you think of peace?

Rainy mornings and coffee.  The smell of a cigarette and the warm press of a bare thigh.  Fuck I’m a little poetic ain’t I?

[alchemicalpotter]

MALCOLM, MERCUTIO, MIRANDA, OBERON, PARIS, PORTIA

MALCOLM: What does honor mean to you?

The right thing, even when it hurts.  And a piss poor way to fight a war.

MERCUTIO: Is there anyone you would die for?

Yeah.  There is.

MIRANDA: Is happiness a choice?

No.  Happiness is an offer.  Limited time, marked down, special one of a kind sale.  And if you’re not in the right place or don’t have the coin, then you’re fucked.  Might catch the sale again, but who knows.  No fucking way it’s a choice.  It’s a luxury brand smirking that you ain’t got it.

OBERON: Does reputation matter to you?

Sometimes yeah.  Sometimes, unfortunately.

PARIS: If you had the chance to rule the world, would you?

Fuck no.  Way too much paperwork.

PORTIA: When did you lose your innocence?

About the world?  Probably when I was fifteen.  Biblically?  Eh, about then too.

[alchemicalpotter]

ROSALIND, SEBASTIAN, TYBALT, VIOLA, VOLUMNIA

ROSALIND: What does your ideal day entail?

Lazy shag, late breakfast.  Good coffee and a stroll.  Quiet.  Comfort in a person or two, lovers or friends cause really who says they’re separate yeah?  Bein by m’self, but not really alone.

SEBASTIAN: Is violence ever the answer?

Only if there’s not a more subtle approach than some git loosin’ a pint of blood.

TYBALT: If you could kill one person without consequences, who would it be?

Oy, ain’t answering that.  Ministry fucker, I know my civil rights.

VIOLA: How skilled of a liar are you?

Well enough to do it often.

VOLUMNIA: Describe the biggest sacrifice you’ve made.

I’m not sure I could.  I don’t know that I have.  Fuckin spoiled, and I know it.  Glass house and a gilded life, me.  Makes me part of the problem, don’t it?

[alchemicalpotter]

HIPPOLYTA, JULIET, LADY MACBETH, MACBETH

HIPPOLYTA: What is your biggest regret?

Not telling the first person I fell for.  Bloke deserved to know.  Still does I guess.

JULIET: What is your favorite luxury?

Essh...hard to narrow that one down...but I think it’d have ta be a quiet drink, premium shite too, and a smoke on the roof by m’self.  Bite of the wine, burn of the drink, spark of the smoke?  Mate, I’m half mast just thinking bout it.

LADY MACBETH: What is your favorite thing about yourself?

I like my hands.  They’re steady.  Even when I’m not, when I’m pissed or ragin’ or even scared, ain’t shaking.  Steady hand.  Good for potions.  Good for teasing too.

MACBETH: Have you ever killed anyone? Would you?

No.  And yes, if it were the proper thing.  No question.

[alchemicalpotter]

ANTONY, BIANCA, CELIA, CIRCE, CLAUDIUS, CORDELIA, EDMUND

ANTONY: What bad habits do you need to break?

Well that’s not fair.  Like...all of them?  Smoking.  Drinking too much.  Not sleeping.  Being a bit of a slag when I’m feeling out of sorts?  Pick one.  

BIANCA: What do you want most in life?

To earn the thing on my own merit I guess.  To have people come into my potion shop because I make the best, not because of my surname. 

CELIA: Do you want to fall in love?

Sometimes, yeah.  What bloke doesn’t?

CIRCE: Would you rather be loved or feared?

False question dude.  Why can’t I be ignored?

CLAUDIUS: What is the worst thing you’ve ever done?

Uh...blackmailing a grief-stricken widower to use him for unlicensed medical tests that might violate some sort of moratorium on blood magic in England?  Oh.  I mean.  Totally stole a lolly.

CORDELIA: Do you consider yourself a good person?

Not really mate.  But I don’t think I’m bad...

EDMUND: Do you ever wish you’d been born someone else? If so, who?

All the bloody time.  Someone normal would be nice...

[alchemicalpotter]

The Limits of Social Grace - Open

[alchemicalpotter]

dommi-weasley‌:

Dominique had just been running through her finances in her head. It didn’t take long because she knew she had almost nothing to her name and had run out of the money Vivienne had given her. Not that she needed to worry. She could always go back to her cousin for more - she’d been exceptionally generous that way and it really was a weight off her shoulders considering how little she’d been working at the Leaky Cauldron recently. Even so, she’d run through her latest allowance and was considering dropping by the Lestrange-Shacklebolt home to ask for more, but Albus’ offer had been too good to even consider doing that. An all expenses paid shopping trip? Of course she was in. 

“You do?!” She squealed in excitement. While her own parents were well off, the Potter side of the family were rolling in money and she did not feel bad taking from them. Especially when it was offered to her. “Maybe I’ll buy a designer handbag, or shoes… or both!” She hadn’t even had that glass of champagne yet and she was feeling giddy.

“Get a leather jacket, and some designer jeans - those skin tight ones that muggles wear with cuts all up the leg.” She tugged her cousin closer, their arms linked together.

Previously her and Albus’ relationship had been on-and-off. She found his work dull and he stood his ground against her when he disagreed. Sometimes they fought, sometimes she adored him, but recently everything had fallen into place where the two just wanted the same thing; to forget the awfulness of the world and take comfort in all the wrong things. She was thankful, and although she didn’t always have the manners or thought to thank other people for what they did for her, on this occasion she wanted him to know. “Thank you Al, this is exactly what I needed.”

“Hell yes.  Whole big charge account just waiting to be abused,” Albus purred, eyes bright as he steered them towards the store.  He knew the way well enough, and thanked the small mercies he was so used to walking the line between muggle and magical that his ID was in his wallet.  “Definitely both.  And a matching wallet for the handbag,” he encouraged.  They could take it out of his trust for all he cared.  It wasn’t like anyone else was touching the fucking ridiculous pile of gold.  

“Dommy dear, I like the way you think,” he replied, eyes bright.  “I also think I might look at things a little more...risque?  I mean, if we have enough money, they’re paid not to pay attention right?”  There were visions dancing through his head that...well they were maybe a bit scandalous.  And fuck if Albus didn’t want to feel that way right now.  

“Then I’m very glad I can help,” he replied easily, flashing his cousin a smile.  He didn’t always click with other members of their clan.  He was bookish and snappish and god he did not look good in crimson and gold.  But once in a while, he could come through when they needed him.  

“I suppose the biggest question is, really,” he said, pausing dramatically, “what on earth should we start with?  Shoes or dresses?” His grin only widened as he turned them around a corner, the building in view.

[alchemicalpotter]

goldentaube‌:

archivesdiveronaevents‌:

Shakespearean Character Ask Meme

ANTONY: What bad habits do you need to break? BEATRICE: What is the achievement you’re most proud of? BENVOLIO: What comes to mind when you think of peace? BIANCA: What do you want most in life? CELIA: Do you want to fall in love? CIRCE: Would you rather be loved or feared? CLAUDIUS: What is the worst thing you’ve ever done? CORDELIA: Do you consider yourself a good person? CRESSIDA: What makes you feel trapped? DESDEMONA: Do you believe that the truth will set you free? EDGAR: Do you want to make your family proud? EDMUND: Do you ever wish you’d been born someone else? If so, who? GERTRUDE: Would you (or have you) ever cheated on a significant other? HAMLET: Do you prefer to think things through thoroughly or act on impulse? HECATE: Do you consider yourself an introvert or an extrovert? HELENUS: Do you believe in God? HIPPOLYTA: What is your biggest regret? HORATIO: Who do you love most? JULIET: What is your favorite luxury? LADY MACBETH: What is your favorite thing about yourself? MACBETH: Have you ever killed anyone? Would you? MALCOLM: What does honor mean to you? MEDEA: Do you have any quirks? MERCUTIO: Is there anyone you would die for? MIRANDA: Is happiness a choice? OBERON: Does reputation matter to you? OPHELIA: Is there anything you regret not doing? ORSINO: If you could have any material thing in the world, what would it be? PARIS: If you had the chance to rule the world, would you? PORTIA: When did you lose your innocence? PUCK: Do you consider yourself a mischievous person?  ROMEO: How far would you go for love? ROSALIND: What does your ideal day entail? ROSALINE: Which people from your past haunt you? SEBASTIAN: Is violence ever the answer? TITANIA: Do you believe in magic? TYBALT: If you could kill one person without consequences, who would it be? VIOLA: How skilled of a liar are you? VOLUMNIA: Describe the biggest sacrifice you’ve made.

[alchemicalpotter]

The Limits of Social Grace - Open

[alchemicalpotter]

dommi-weasley‌:

Albus was clearly on the same page as her, and it was a breath of fresh air. Her parents had told her she needed to get her life together and if they knew she was using partying as an outlet for her frustrations and upset they’d be less than happy. But they didn’t know. And it didn’t matter. She didn’t have to think about them right now. 

“Yes!” Shopping was what she needed. The endorphin rush of getting something new, something that made her look and feel good, was the boost that would get her through the hangover she was bound to have tomorrow. “I want a new dress. Skin tight, and sexy.” Dominique usually went for pink and frilly but for their little adventure she wanted something different. Something Roxanne might wear - cool and sleek with a plunging neckline. Black or red, rather than pink. 

“We could get you a suit! Oh wait! - I want new shoes too.” The idea of a shopping spree had wiped any thought of the ministry from her mind. “I think you’d look so good in a dark blue.” Her thoughts were getting all muddled up about who would be wearing what and where they were going to go first but she just let the excitement carry her along.

Albus was practically thrumming with excitement.  This was going to be a blast.  It was everything he shouldn’t do, from being in public and having his inhibitions lowered and risky activity right down to spending money when he should be making stable choices for his future.  Well sod all of that prudent advice.  He was going to get fancy, get drunk, and...well he’d see about getting fucked.  

The pendant on his chest was a bit heavy, but he pushed that thought aside.  

“Sounds like we need full makeovers then my dear cousin,” he replied with a grin.  He clicked his tongue, looking about and letting his grin almost turn feral.  “I really think, what we need, is a splurge.  And I happen to know someone with a charge account at Harrod’s.” His dad had set one up ages ago should they need anything muggle.  And when he forgot anniversary presents.  Or birthdays.  It mostly just collected dust and was cleared by the Gringotts folks.  Or maybe the magical group at Barclays.  Who knew.  

What was important was it was there.  With his name on it.  And no fucking limit. 

“Let’s go.  They’ll even bring us lunch and champagne if we get up there and start looking at the designer labels,” he said with a grin, giving Dom’s arm a tug.  “Should I go suit?  Or something more down spun and clubby?  I’m thinking I need a new leather jacket you know.  Something...that might make Granny Molly freak.”