( ana de armas | cis-female | she/her ) — was that daisy hookum passing through diagon alley? those close to them say they remind them of ink stained hands, untethering yourself from everything you recognize, an empty bird’s nest and a broken wing, the quiet in losing loved ones, knowing the danger of a pen and paper in your hand, long hours hunched over a typewriter as you pour your heart and soul into your book, which i suppose seems to fit that hufflepuff alumnus. they’re actually pretty loyal, creative, and compassionate for a thirty year old, but i wonder if it serves them well when working as a author and journalist at the daily prophet. rumor has it that the half-blood is aligning with the order now i wouldn’t have guessed… but this is a conversation we should be having somewhere else.
Character name: Daisy Hookum
Age & Birthday: 30 & February 25th
Zodiac Sign: Pisces
Gender & Pronouns: Cisfemale & she/her
Occupation: Author & Journalist for the Prophet
Marriage Status: Widowed
Blood Status: Halfblood
Previous House: Hufflepuff
Affiliation: Order
Wand: English Oak, Dragon Heartstring, and 12 inches
Boggart: Jasper as an Inferius
part two
Headcanons (death TW, car accident tw, death by car accident tw)
Growing up, Daisy lived with her mother Ottilie, and grandmother in a small flat in Diagon Alley. Her mother had her when she was nineteen, after a summer fling with a muggle. When Ottilie Hookum told Wesley Bingham that she was pregnant, he promised that he would help out with the baby, that even though they didn’t know each other that well, they would figure out a way to make it work. But after they parted from that day, Ottilie never heard from him again, leaving her to raise Daisy on her own. Despite not having a father, Daisy had a good childhood. Ottilie worked long hours as a nurse in St. Mungo’s, so she spent a lot of time with her grandmother.
She can’t remember when she realized that her family was different than the other kids, but at some point, she realized that she didn’t have a dad. The one and only time she asked her mother about that, her mom got this…sad look on her face, and Daisy made it her mission to never make her mom look that sad again. Even though she didn’t ask her mom about her dad, it didn’t stop her from wondering about him. Who was he? What did he look like? Did he know about her? Daisy had no way of answering these questions so she learned to bottle them down over time.
When it was time for Daisy to go to Hogwarts, she didn’t sleep at all the night before. She was so excited to finally go to Hogwarts, but she was also afraid of leaving her mom and grandmother. She worried about making friends, what house she would be sorted in, and how homesick she might get being away for a long time. But when she finally got to Hogwarts she was sorted into Hufflepuff, and she couldn’t have been happier.
Daisy met fellow first year Jasper Ellis on the train going to Hogwarts their first year. He was a muggleborn student, but that never mattered to her–in fact, he opened her eyes to muggle culture and broadened her horizons. Choosing to sit in the same compartment as Jasper determined the rest of her life. Jasper became her best friend, and then her first love. He was her soulmate and her everything. He helped her through the death of her grandmother when she was twenty, and through getting her first job at the Daily Prophet as a journalist. He was the only one to know about her secret ambition of publishing a book. They were married when they turned twenty-five, and Daisy was so sure that they were going to spend the rest of their lives together–until Jasper’s life was tragically cut short three years later. It had been senseless, the car accident that took his life. He had gone back to visit his family for a long weekend. Daisy was planning on joining them later that night after she finished a big story for work. When the phone rang, she had answered it completely unaware that her life was going to change completely. When she heard her mother-in-law’s voice on the line, she knew instantly that something was very wrong. In just a few words, her entire world shattered.
The days and months after Jasper’s funeral are hazy. She stopped going to work, stopped doing all of her normal routines, and it wasn’t until her mother sat her down and told her something needed to change that Daisy ‘woke up’. She took her mother’s words to heart and told her that she needed to get away for a little while. She decided she didn’t want anything to do with magic since it had been unable to save Jasper, and put in for a leave of absence at the Prophet, and went to spend some time living with her in-laws. During that year away she didn’t use any magic, lived completely as a muggle, and gained some perspective of how Jasper had lived before going to Hogwarts.
To distract herself from her grief, she started to write a book about her experience living without magic. It was never anything very serious, her book, but somehow…when she returned back to the wizarding world and back to the Prophet, she mentioned what she had been working on and someone wanted to read it. One thing led to another, and Daisy has recently become a published author. Her book My Year as a Muggle has created quite the stir in wizarding England, especially with tensions being how they are.
regulus had an early start to the morning, he liked being about a half hour early to work to give himself a couple of moments to debrief what he was currently researching. he had his enchanted book bag with him filled to the brim of things that needed on a current case, but it weighed like a feather. by the time it hit mid-afternoon into his lunch he needed something more than the break room coffee and tea he decided to grab one on his way back to the ministry and he stood outside of the cafe and watched as daisy hookum tried to get any sort of response from someone. he leaned casually against the wall, watching her and smirking as the many people didn't seem to give her the time of day and pursued his lips, before her eyes seemed to track his. he sighs internally, no longer slouching. he knew of daisy hookum of course, the one that decided to live as a muggle for a year, everyone had been talking about her book, but he could care less about it. "against the code of ethics?" he questions, an eyebrow raised. not that everyone follows that, he couldn't help but smirk again. "i already did my interview, what questions do you have that are different from the aurors?" he couldn't imagine it was much different, they'd been drilling people for hours.
Daisy wasn't proud of it, but she had been writing for the Prophet so long that she recognized the younger Black brother even though she didn't think that they had ever really crossed paths. Growing up she hadn't known about the wealthiest families in their world, their lives and the way that they grew up was as foreign to Daisy as her choice to live as a muggle had been to them. It was just how it was, but working in this field, Daisy had to know who they were. It was unfortunate, the way that society always looked upon people like Regulus Black, born with more privilege than anyone rightfully needed. But he was privileged, and perhaps...if she could get him to talk to her, she could get something interesting out of him. Maybe he would have something of interest to say. "Sure, I'm a journalist, so we have a code of ethics," she responded. "There are certain things that we shouldn't do, bribery being one of the big ones." She knew that there were journalists at the Prophet that didn't care, they would do whatever they had to to get a story, but Daisy refused to count herself amongst them. "I'm not an auror. I'm working on a story that's going to detail what really happened the other night. I know that the aurors are working on it, I'm sure they already have a pretty good idea of what happened. But I'm looking to tell individual stories from what happened. Think of it like a human interest story."
dirk watches as yet another person walks right past her, ignoring her completely. when she finally glances his way, he meets her eyes with a lazy tilt of his head, considering her words. ❝ you know, hookum, ❞ he drawls, ❝ you might have better luck if you did offer ice cream. ethics be damned. ❞ his smirk tugs at the corner of his lips before he gestures for daisy to come closer to him. ❝ but lucky for you, i don’t need bribing. ❞ he leans forward slightly. ❝ i’ll talk — on the record, even. though, i can’t promise i’ll give you anything groundbreaking. just a well-informed, devastatingly handsome wizard’s perspective on all the doom and gloom. ❞ he pauses, then adds with a wink, ❝ and maybe, just maybe, i’ll let you buy me that ice cream after all. purely off the record, of course. ❞
Maybe everyone was right and Daisy should just throw her ethics to the wind. Her bosses at the Prophet clearly didn't care about ethics, considering all that Rita did. But Daisy couldn't do it. Her integrity mattered far too much to her. "You're probably right, Cresswell, but would I be me if I threw ethics away?" She countered, raising an eyebrow. What had their world come to? However, it was a relief when Dirk agreed to talk to her. "Thank you," she replied, offering him a smile. "Maybe if you give me something good to go with I'll consider it," she teased with a shake of her head. "Where you at the opening event?" She asked him, figuring that that was the best place to start with her interview.
Open starter!
Setting: Middle of the week at Hogsmeade
Since he assumed his new position at the school, Emílio had been swamped with work, taking it over on short notice as an emergency wasn't on his cards. He couldn't have ever expected the sheer volume his predecessor had left behind without his knowledge. And maybe he had been mad that he had to miss out on the hospital party, but now, he couldn't help but feel relief that he wasn't the one having to waste an afternoon of not answering any auror's questioning "I've never been happier to miss out on free drinks in my life. Talking to cops is not my thing, and it will never be."
Daisy had had to talk to the Aurors, but she hadn't quite minded it. She got a good idea of what they were thinking simply by listening to their questions. She supposed it helped, that she had spoken with Rodolphus as well. But she couldn't stop feeling so terrible for the family after what had happened. She knew what it was like to lose someone you loved. Daisy glanced up from her spot when she heard a voice, and she had to smile. She supposed that was one way to make a positive out of something tragic. "I think that a lot of people didn't think that a night of free drinks would lead to an afternoon in the Auror's offices," she agreed. "I'm not sure anyone enjoys talking to them. Except me, maybe. But I do it for work, so maybe I'm just immune to it" she laughed.
“ we all know you’re the best in our field, daisy.” andromeda wasn’t the type to give out meaningless compliments ( she barely grew up on them ), and she meant it when she smiled at daisy. people probably preferred reading rita’s stories. as exciting as they were, they lacked everything andromeda appreciated about journalism. however, daisy was different. everything she’d published, felt real, exciting without the poor guise of meaningless dramatics. a skill, andromeda could only hope to acquire as time would pass.
“ there’s no need for those mind games. don’t hate me for this but the best thing he could probably do is to pair you both up, so rita could learn a little from you.” she half-jested, knowing that daisy would probably hate that.
“ no it really is beautiful, perhaps it might offer some comfort. maybe it’s nice to see that place looking different for once. distract them a little … i haven’t thought about it in this way.” luckily, her visits to the hospital had always meant to be brief. it could’ve been different for daisy, but she wasn’t sure if she could ask her about it.
“ i just feel bad for the people working here. it must be a strange feeling.” andromeda wondered if she only felt that way because of ted. that her compassion wasn’t as real as she would like it to be.
“ you’re right. if i think about it, i’m not quite sure if i do want to know what she’s up to. we’ll probably get to know about it tomorrow.” she sighed.
“ oh…” a slight moment of hesitation passed over her, as if she’d been caught off guard. realizing she hadn’t thought about how she really felt in a while. most of the time, her mind was clouded by worry, so much that any other emotion trying to push past it, disappeared within it.
“ i’m fine, i think. i think, i just need a break. ” andromeda didn’t know from what. but there had been a weight pressing on her chest for a while, as though she needed to breath. “ i mean just like everyone else. but what about you ? how are you feeling ? especially with your book being published and causing quite a stir. i really enjoyed it, by the way. maybe, i should try it as well. living like a muggle...”
Daisy liked to think that she wasn't one to be swayed by praise, but there was certainly something...nice about Andromeda saying she was the best in their field. She certainly didn't feel like it lately, but she did try. Daisy truly cared about what they did. She thought that it was important that they tell the truth, that they inform the public about things happening in their world. Especially now. "You are very kind to say that. I know that I don't pull the numbers that Rita does these days, but I'm okay with that. When I write I want to write something meaningful."
"Please! Don't give them any ideas, Andromeda," she laughed, shaking her head. She could only imagine if such a terrible thing happened. She didn't think that she could handle it, quite frankly.
"You certainly have a point. I think that there is something...nice about it looking a little different. It's not as intimidating as it usually is." Daisy hated hospitals. She had lost Jasper in one, and she didn't think that she would ever be over that. She didn't know how she could ever enjoy spending time in a hospital. "I wonder what the healers think about all of this," she mused, gesturing to the room. "I just imagine how I would feel if all these strangers attended a party in the Prophet office. We would probably feel pretty put out," she laughed. But their offices were small, certainly not up to the standards of this new wing. That was for sure.
"A break?" Daisy asked, looking at Andromeda with concern. "Is there anything that I can do to help?" She asked, figuring that it didn't hurt to offer. "I'm doing okay. I try to keep busy." At the mention of her book, she couldn't help but smile. "It feels strange to have it out in the universe. But I'm proud of it, and I stand by it. I think more witches and wizards could do with spending some time with our muggle counterparts. If you ever want to take me up on that, I could set you up," she teased. How would Jasper's mom feel about having someone like Andromeda Black staying with her?
And you know; understanding hung between them like a weighted veil they both had chosen to step through. Del could only nod. She wanted to ask Daisy what had been her deciding factor into this life. What influenced her...made her want to do this? Surely there was some variation of the greater good for all of them. For all wix kind. For the world they all hold near a dear. Integrity and so on and so forth. She knew this, but what really pushed a wix into something that could in truth be the end of the start? Del liked to imagine that things would never progress beyond this very point. But she knew better. History muggle and wix wasn't so different. Even tho certain magical folks liked to try and pretend they were some how greater than the no-mag people or the magical ones born from them. It was far too complex a question to answer quickly. And far too dangerous a one to ask here. Still the unsaid parts hung between them, Del's features furrowing with the weight of it all storming through her. "I know," was all she could manage to say.
She gave a wistful sigh, "You could be mad. I wouldn't blame you". Del circled back, an impish smile burying all the turmoil she felt. "You have a hook you feel could make headlines?" she asked happy to accept the forgiveness, even if she didn't exactly feel she earned it. She wanted it anyway.
Losing Jasper had taught Daisy to forgive more easily. She thought of all the times that they had fought, all the time that had been wasted over their relationship because they were in some dumb argument. If she could go back and do it over, she would make sure that she didn't waste so much time being angry with him, so much time fighting over things that didn't matter in retrospect. So now, she was trying to bring that energy into her relationships. And she knew that things were tense, that eventually...lives could be lost. Daisy didn't want to have regrets for that, too. It would be too much for her to bear.
"I think that you just want me to be mad at you," she teased with a laugh, rolling her eyes. She nodded her head. "I have a few different ones, but they all seem...boring. I don't know, it's good that tonight has been rather tame, but I'm not sure it's going to sell the Prophet the way that they want it to."
Who: Daisy & Open
Where: Diagon Alley
When: Mid-afternoon
"Hi, I'm Daisy Hookum, I'm with the Daily Prophet. I'm looking to interview people on the growing tensions and the tragedies that have recently been hitting our community so hard. If I could just have a moment of your time I would really...appreciate it," Daisy sighed as the person she had been attempting to speak to walked right past her. She knew that it wasn't always popular talking to a journalist, but it was important. She wanted to document what was happening in their country, to their people, and she couldn't do that if nobody spoke to her. Feeling eyes on her, she glanced up. "I don't suppose you want to talk to me, do you? I promise you can stay anonymous if you want. I'd offer to buy you ice cream or something but that's against the code of ethics. Not that everyone follows that," she muttered, more to herself.
rodolphus needed a break, which was why he chosen a coffee shop instead of his office. what was even more puzzling was that he chose a muggle coffee shop where they could talk, because he knew that daisy would have questions, and he didn't want the whole of the bloody wixen community listening in. but even still when she showed up he had thrown a silencing charm around them as he smiled at her briefly. it was true, that he was beginning to like daisy, she was a fair reporter, but there was something about her and her humanity that he clung to. he didn't have a word for it, but the closest thing he could think of was, fond. "thank you for meeting me here. i've done about a dozen interviews with our own aurors last night, it seems to still be going." poor frank, he thought, he was the only one that he truly trusted in this whole mess. "how have you been doing, daisy?" he questions, raising an eyebrow.
It had certainly been a surprise when she realized that he wanted to meet at a muggle shop. Perhaps she had been wrong about Rodolphus Lestrange. Maybe she had been unfair, judging him for his last name. Their last conversation had left an impact on her, as much as she hadn't wanted to admit it. He had been kind about her book and her writing, and that was more than she could say for some of the other so called Pureblood families. Daisy nodded her head. "I'm always glad to get out of the Prophet office," she mused. It was chaos there right now after the murder. It was awful, what had happened, and she couldn't stop the sinking feeling of guilt that they hadn't been able to stop it. How had this happened? How could it have happened with so much security? "Has anything important come up yet?" She asked, glancing at him from across the table. "Me? I'm okay. A little shaken up," she admitted. "It's awful what happened." She paused. "And how about you? This must be...stressful."
"sleeping at your desk, daisy?" he says with a teasing smile. "that's rough." then again, there were times when peter had slept in one of the break rooms when it came to some kind of curse damage that needed multiple healers on rotation and peter was on that rotation but been tapped out for a few hours until it was his turn to relieve someone. "i think working here takes some thick skin and a lack of sleep." he says with a smile, laughing and shaking his head. "i'm okay. mostly just tired and anxious what this night could bring from some people." he says trying to keep it light.
"Sure, haven't we all done it?" She asked with a laugh. "There's a stereotype out there, journalists and doing everything they can to get the story," she mused. Sometimes, it was just easier to sleep there instead of going home to an empty flat without anyone waiting for her. Maybe she needed to get a pet. "Oh, I can only imagine the things that you have to deal with. I hate hospitals; they always make me so tense." Daisy nodded in agreement. "I know. I can't wait for tonight to be over so we can all go home. I'm just...it feels tense, you know?"
It was her greatest skill, the ability to blatantly ignore the fact that she was, a lot of the time, very unlikeable. Rita was a bitter pill to swallow, yet moved through the world as if she was universally beloved.
Rita gestured at her now torn pants, the seam split from ankle to knee. "Perhaps ripping the other one will be easier than trying to fix it?" Rita asked, playing with the flap, "Make it look like some quirky, intentional look? Oh but I love these pants..."
Daisy couldn't imagine how Rita had gotten into this predicament, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know what she had done. If she were a worse person, she would have just walked away, but Daisy cared and that was entirely her problem.
Sighing, she looked at the rather large split in the seam and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure that anyone would willingly buy pants like that. Come here, let me see what I can do," she gestured for Rita to come closer. "What did you do, anyways?"
Del paced small steps as the urge to pull out her wand and demand some sort of answers. It was ridiculous in a logical way, but the part of her that searched for satisfaction and peace wanted to barrel head first into all of this until she had answers and a resolve. Daisy's voice penetrated the cacophony of noise roaring between her ears. The I know made her take pause, her feet stumbling over one another. Her brows knitted together, apology shadowing her face, "Daisy-" she winced realizing how rude she had been to her friend, "I'm sorry, you're not-" Del shook her head and took a decided step towards Daisy, "You're never in my way. I didn't mean that. I was just- I'm just," she fumbled searching for the words. Her voice shrank feeling small for how she had forgotten herself with someone she care for.
"It usually wouldn't...this is so much bigger than me. It's bigger than any of us-" Del sunk against the wall, turning her face to Daisy, "I want a doner kebab and this night to be over... but I don't want to ruin it for you."
Daisy knew that these were trying times, that tensions were at an all-time high, especially for them. It felt like they had so much more at stake than all of the other partygoers, the ones that had no idea that a war was coming. And Moody's lecture...well, maybe he had some hint of truth to it. But none of them really wanted to admit that he was right. It was easier to react in anger; it was easier to get mad at him instead of rethinking things. And it hadn't been fair; Daisy saw that. There were some of them that had been doing their job tonight. She had always hated it when higher-ups blamed everyone instead of taking up the issue with the person or people involved. "It's okay," Daisy said firmly. "I know you didn't mean it. Don't worry about it, okay? I'm not mad."
"I know, I feel it too," she told Del, softly. "I do. It's just...everything, you know?" She sighed. She nodded her head, but then she laughed. "Please, like I want to be here? You know this isn't really my thing. I'm just here for the prophet. And you know."
Who: Daisy & Rodolphus
Where: Coffee shop, Diagon Alley
When: A few days after the tragedy
Daisy had reached out to Rodolphus the morning after the tragedy that had happened at the grand opening. She still couldn't shake the guilt of what had happened. They had been there to prevent anything like that happening...and yet, there had been a murder. Daisy was trying not to focus on it, and instead focus on moving forward. She wanted to focus on figuring out who had been behind it, and she wanted to know if Rodolphus had any ideas. She had expected to meet with him at his office, so she had been surprised when he had countered with a coffee shop. But never one to shy away from something, she had agreed and arrived promptly at their agreed upon time.
He wasn't hard to miss, so she immediately went towards his table. "Thanks for meeting with me," she smiled but it didn't reach her eyes the way it usually did. "I wish it could be under less...tragic circumstances, though."
"That is true." She'd noticed almost immediately once she walked into the hospital how many aurors were here, far more than she'd ever deem necessary at something like this. But they had to be careful. "At this point, I'd wager there may be more aurors here than guests." And yet, that didn't put Melis entirely at ease. They had a better chance of being ahead of the game when compared to Samhain but still, people could be unpredictable. Especially ones who were as caustic and abhorrent as their enemy currently was. Basic decency said this would be off limits to attack at a hospital but that was assuming any of them cared about decency and Melis doubted that. "Well, that's good. All you have to do is suffer through droll conversation but at least you might get a promotion out of it."
It was sad that it was necessary to have such a heavy Auror presence, but after everything that happened, she thought that it was for the best. "If that was the Ministry's goal then we can say that they succeeded," she agreed at the mention of just how many Aurors were there today. "I'm sure there are even more that are just...undercover as well. That's what I would do if I were in charge," she mused. Daisy thought that it was important that they have a presence, but she wasn't sure that it would deter the other side. If they wanted to cause chaos, she was sure that they would do it. "Maybe. They don't give promotions very often, but it would be a nice reward," Daisy laughed. "How has work been for you? I know you can't talk about it much, but it's been going okay?"
Del didn't much enjoy the reprimand, her green eyes glowered a bit at Moody, a man she had an immense respect for and felt he overlooked her and perhaps all of them a bit. Maybe she would have a word with him, maybe more than a few words. It felt like flames were licking her fingers as she practically pouted to the sidelines. The uneasiness she had felt before the night even began had unfolded ten fold making her feel sick to her stomach. Del tersely denied an offered flute of champagne and pushed off the wall with purpose.
A woman with a mission she had every intention of giving Moody a passionate speech about how all in she was. How all in they all were. Sometimes she worried the man was determined to martyr himself, maybe they all were in their own ways. It didn't mean she didn't have a few suggestions for the man. She could ignite on the spot, twisting through the crowds for the familiar face. She was single minded in her pursuit. So much so that she was knocking into others on her way. Her shoulders pushing past walls of people only to have someone seem to create a wall directly in her sight causing her to lose sights.
Her nostrils flared and Del huffed, "You're in the way," she exclaimed her shoulders tight as she turned quickly trying to look over the heads of those nearby, "The party feels over does it not?" She asked her shoulders not dropping as her face fell into a frown.
Daisy Hookum wore many hats. Metaphorical hats, of course, but many hats nonetheless. As the two Fudge's had stepped up, Daisy was surprised by the reveal, but what was even more surprising was the state of Mortimor Fudge. Had he had too much to drink? She couldn't be sure, but something had felt off. So it hadn't been a surprise when they had all been called over by Moody and had been chewed out. It had been hard to go from her journalist brain to her Order brain, but she had managed it well. She didn't quite appreciate the harsh words, but she didn't fault the man. Some of them had probably been having a bit too much fun today.
She was used to being chewed out by superiors, her bosses at the Prophet didn't hesitate to yell and tell them all off on the regular, so she had just let his critiques roll off of her back and went back to being more attentive to the event and the quests. But she had noticed the way that Del had reacted, and she made it her job to go and find her friend.
"I know," she retorted when Del told her that she was in her way. "Don't do something you're going to regret," she told her friend in a hushed voice. "Let's just go back to enjoying the night. Or we can leave, your choice. But don't let it get to you."
“And?” He urged politely, eyes bright and curious, “Did you get any interesting quotes? Or, wait, wait — I’m assuming it’s a lot of the same.” He cleared his throat and stood straighter, trying to think how any of the society elite would respond to being asked questions on the event, on how they found the evening. “‘Yes I think it’s a lovely party, quite indeed. Whoever is responsible is surely obscenely wealthy and I’m only jealous I hadn’t thought to do it first.’” His shoulders relaxed and his stance changed, his usual more easy going demeanor returning to him instantly. “Perhaps more vague but surely along those lines?” His nose wrinkled, once more letting his eyes look over the crowd of party goers. “I hope people have been more interesting in conversations with you… I’ve lost track of every conversation I’ve had. They’ve been so mundane.” A thought then crossed Cary’s mind and he quirked a curious brow at Daisy. “You wouldn’t happen to know who the guest of honor for tonight is, hm? Press privilege or something like that?”
Cary tipped his head back with a laugh. “Yes, exactly that! They must think that ‘poor’ is contagious. No, no, we simply can’t have that. Let’s give them a gilded hall, all sparkly and shiny and new, just for them. But who knows — maybe St. Mungo’s is doubling as an event hall after tonight. Could be the best new combination. Just think — you get to party and if something happens, you’re just a short elevator ride from a comfy hospital bed and some healing potions.” His brows rose, “Perhaps they’re onto something here.” He winced at the thought of the fairies and what they thought while floating as a light source above them. “Maybe they’re gossiping about all of us below them. I hope they’re at least having some semblance of fun up there.” Working with goblins, Cary had a soft side for all sentient beings. He wasn’t like some other wizards who couldn’t see other creatures as equals. He wondered how in control of their faculties the fairies employed as lighting fixtures were — a thought that only caused him to frown more. He shook his head at her words, “Come now, Daisy — you’re an excellent writer. The Prophet wouldn’t employ you otherwise. And your book being published is surely sign of that, too.” His smile softened, “I will admit it made me a bit homesick. I wanted to whisk off home immediately, spend some time with my dad.” His voice dropped as he added, “He’s a muggle. Your book reminded me a lot of my own upbringing. I almost miss how uncomplicated the non-magical life can be… At least, by comparison.” Muggle life wasn’t without complications, naturally. They had their own problems, some that mirrored the situation they found themselves in today. It just was a different kind of complication, that was all. “Do you mind my asking why you chose to live a muggle life, even if for a small amount of time?” It was a curious thought he suspected for anyone who grew up in a magically saturated world. He couldn’t help his curiosity.
Daisy laughed and nodded her head. "That is almost exactly how every conversation has gone tonight. Especially amongst the ones that think that their money allows them to do whatever they would like," she rolled her eyes. There were plenty of them in the building today. "I have had exactly four people insist that they are the anonymous donor, which is interesting considering they said that there is one, so I'm not entirely sure how all four of them are the donor. Unless St. Mungo's has tricked multiple people into thinking that they are the donor," she laughed, shaking her head. "I am doubtful though, they usually do things rather by the book. It would make quite the story though, but unless I can prove it I think that I am going to put those quotes aside." She shook her head. "Unfortunately they didn't brief us before we got here. They really want this to be a surprise for everyone. I'm curious, though, what the purpose is. Did the donor want to be anonymous? Or was this St. Mungo's idea?"
"You joke, but I think some of them really do think that way," She smirked, shaking her head. Daisy was quite certain that she would rather be poor than live with the expectations that those with money seemed to have to live with. It seemed rather miserable, and she thought that life was far too short to be miserable. "I think that you are certainly onto something with that. They clearly spent a lot of money on this wing and making it all nice and fancy. Who's to say that this is a one-time-only thing." It was strange, really, that St. Mungo's was so willing to put out all this money for a new wing only to throw a party in it. What was the purpose? She had to wonder. Daisy wasn't entirely sure how she felt about them having actual fairies up there. How had they done it? And what was in it for the fairies? Did they get compensation for tonight? And did they want to be there? Daisy had no idea. "I agree. I hope that they are being compensated fairly as well. It can't be fun being up there," she shook her head. "Thank you, Cary." Even after being published, Daisy still worried that her writing wasn't as good as she hoped it was. Perhaps that was just the curse of being an artist--you always wondered if you truly had talent or if people were just being kind. It tugged at her heart, the way that Cary's voice lowered when he shared that his father was a muggle. It shouldn't be like this. People shouldn't be afraid to share that kind of information. "Do you get to visit him often?" She asked curiously. Since returning back to their world, she hadn't spent nearly as much time with Jasper's family as she should. She needed to make a point to go and visit them again. "I don't mind at all. It's a sad story. My late husband was muggleborn and after his accident, I just...wanted to understand where he was from. I wanted to feel connected to him again, so I went and stayed with his family. It was a beautiful experience, seeing what it was like for him growing up, and just...being where he had spent so much of his life. Writing the book was healing, it helped me to deal with my grief. And I hoped...maybe I could open some eyes, and broaden some minds in the process. Then maybe his death wouldn't be for nothing, you know?"
her eyes moved through the hall, sometimes stopping and lingering a little bit longer on a crowd she once belonged to. it was odd, the relief of being an outsider and not knowing what to do with the names sitting on the tip of her tongue. names that once meant something, names that she grew up with and had echoed through so many of her childhood memories. now, she could only watch, uncertain of what to write about when she no longer wanted to get too close.
“ daisy . ” a smile spread on her earlier frozen expression. “so, have you been forced to be here for work as well, or was it just curiosity?” a known face she didn’t dread. andromeda had known daisy for a while, though, for the longest time, knowing her had mostly consisted of occasional glimpses. a beautiful face like hers was hardly to be missed, even among the sea of hufflepuffs. yet it was through their shared work which drew them closer, silent admiration for her courage of writing a book that she wouldn’t even have dared to pick up back then, blossoming into a friendship.
“ they’re … beautiful” she nodded toward the glowing lights, only now noticing them. “ although, i prefer the normal setting. it feels …” warmer. or maybe she just missed the familiarity of it . “ more natural.” she cleared her throat.
“ i’m sure, she’ll find a way to write something interesting .” a sigh escaped her, accompanied by small laughter. usually, she tried to refrain from talking badly about her colleagues, but rita surely was special, to put it politely.
“ maybe we should keep an eye on her ? watch her, so she won’t cause any trouble, simply to have something to talk about because it doesn’t look like something interesting is going to happen tonight.”
It had certainly taken courage for Andromeda to do what she had done. Daisy wasn't sure that she would have been able to leave her family behind, but she had been lucky to grow up with a mother that loved her and wanted what was best for her. She wasn't so sure that Andromeda (or any of the so called elitist purebloods) could say that. Why else were they all so miserable? But Daisy could only imagine how Andromeda felt being here tonight, she was sure that her family was in attendance--it seemed like all of wizarding London was.
"You know I'm here for work," she rolled her eyes. "I'm not sure why he thought that it was a good idea to send everyone. I think he just wants a competition to see what gets the best numbers," she sighed, shaking her head. Their boss and his decisions were often...questionable. But who was Daisy to question him? "I can almost forget that we're in a hospital. I've never been a fan, so this is a little bit...nicer. But I can see your point," she smiled. "I think that that's a good idea. Who knows what she's up to tonight," Daisy sighed. A part of her thought that she would reap what she sowed, but Daisy didn't want her own reputation to be harmed by Rita's bad decisions, either. "Let's hope nothing happens, we could use a calm event, don't you think?" She asked with a sigh. "How are you doing, though, I feel like we haven't talked in a while. Everything okay?"
the fact of the matter was, peter wouldn't have joined if the rest of the marauders didn't. it often seemed like come one, come all. but sometimes, there's a very tiny part of him, that wondered what would they would have done if peter had decided to stay neutral? it wasn't that he was cowardly, he just had to look at it differently. perhaps that selfish part of him wanted to stay out of it because he had a mother to live for. to stay alive for. then, he thought, if no one fights for people like his muggleborn mother then who will? so he joined the order, and he would be the healer that they needed when shit starts to actually go south. "this is where i spend all my time." he says smiling at daisy. "sometimes i feel like i eat, sleep, breathe this place and repeat. merlin knows the last time i hung out with all my friends at once." not that they asked, but he couldn't blame them for having lives.
Daisy often wished that things were different. That Jasper was still alive, that a war wasn't bearing down on them, and that people weren't going to have to make hard choices in the coming years. But Daisy couldn't change that, the only thing that she could control was her actions, and that was why she made the choice to join the Order. She had thought that she couldn't be proud of herself if she sat by and did nothing, so she had joined. She just hoped that it made a difference in the end. "I know the feeling," Daisy nodded with an understanding smile. "There have been times when I've actually slept at the Prophet office. I don't recommend it, but it's happened. I bet sleeping here wouldn't be so awful, though." Daisy hated hospitals, but she could stand to be in them without too much drama. "How are you doing?"
