Benjy Fenwick

“Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens.” // Muggleborn // Writer for the Daily Prophet

[thrillh0us]

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Miss You - The Rolling Stones

[fennyben-blog]

Number one song on August 8, 1978

[donotknowwhatsawbutsawsomething]

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🎹 Andy Gibb - Shadow Dancing

[fennyben-blog]

Number 1 Song on July 31, 1978

[fennyben-blog]

July 1978

Puddletown, Dorset

Despite the cheers and jeers from the crowd and the high-pitched whistling of fireworks and noise-makers around him, Benjy was able to tune it all out and finish his column piece. He knew a lot of other writers were among the crowd, and he hoped that if his piece made it back to the prophet first, he would have the better chance of it being published. He knew that his work would be overshadowed about the actual quidditch match itself, but his actual name being on the paper would make him feel better.

He had being secretly using the name Tim Kinder for most of his pieces, hoping that his enemies would be searching for the fake half-blood instead of Benjy himself, but going by a different name also made him feel incomplete as an artist. Nevertheless, he signed Tim Kinder on the bottom edge of his piece, and he tapped his wand on the parchment, watching it as it disappeared to a submission box in London. He had chosen to use his pseudonym, hoping that whatever dark wizard or witch was out there knew that they always had eyes on them. Tim Kinder was known to be expressive over the dark side of the war, and despite not having his own name recognized, he enjoyed the double life. It almost made him feel like James Bond.

He ordered another drink but was given the wrong order, and he sipped the dirty martini in distaste. Running his hand through his hair, he turned to the person next to him. “I really hate the taste of olives, but alcohol is alcohol. And I plan on being quite drunk by the end of this night.” 

[rxgulusarcturus-blog]

Cheer For The Victors!

Event: Puddlemere United’s victory party

Location: Puddletown, Dorset

When: July 1978

It had been a match to remember. Puddlemere took the cup in one final swoop and the crowd came to life in a deafening roar. Being a fan of. So much so that when the seeker caught the snitch he broke poise and yelled out.

Not one for after parties unless it was absolutely necessary, Regulus lingered at the sidelines. He watched in awe as people mingled with smiles painted on their faces. It was like the war had just ceased to exist. An ill-placed step had him backing into someone as he turned to find the drinks table.

“My apologies, I didn’t think to check behind me.”

[fennyben-blog]

Benjy had arrived too the match toward the end, and the cheering of the crowd meant that they much favored the winning team. Not that Benjy cared. He was here for the after party, and he had immediately jumped first in line to one of the many carts supplying alcohol. He had only gotten two sips in when another person had bumped into him, causing him to drop his drink. He stared at it for a moment before turning to the dark-haired man behind him. He should’ve known. Drunk people don’t usually have the best spacial awareness.

“No matter,” Benjy replied curtly and bent down to pick up the empty glass. “You just owe me another drink, now.”

[lxrd-lucius-blog]

July 1978 // Puddletown, Dorset // Puddlemere United’s Victory Party.

There was something so incredulously fun about dealing with drunken people. He liked being able to manipulate them into doing something for him - usually something as silly as impersonating a chicken - but he also liked to fish for information. Subtle bullying was, perhaps, his favourite pastime. So Lucius drew his mouth back, bright white stakes contrasting against his lips, and leaned forward. 

“Please,” he drawled, “tell me more.”

[fennyben-blog]

Benjy was taken aback some from Lucius’ smile. Something wicked was hiding beneath that charming smile, and Benjy analyzed the man’s pale face, hoping to find whatever was lurking behind the muddy waters of his expression. After a slight moment, he turned back to the bar, gripping the glass of his whisky in contemplation. He wondered why Lucius was so interested in muggle technology, unless he needed a reason to either make fun of or doing something much worse to Benjy, considering he was a muggleborn. Nevertheless, he grinned to hide the nervousness he felt. “Well... that was pretty much it. They record their songs using things called microphones, and they etch it on vinyl records. I’m not quite sure exactly how it works, but music has become much more popular in muggle households.”

[prxngspxtter-blog]

James grabbed a glass of fire whiskey and looked around, grin on his face.  Puddlemere United winning again?  Well, he certainly wasn’t missing the celebratory party!  His own team, perhaps the greatest team in the UK, nay the bloody world, they’d gone and done it.  

“Did you see that pass?  You know they used the arrowhead formation, passing through almost the whole team before the Kestrels could even react!  I mean, they stood absolutely no chance!”  James was almost bouncing with glee as he detailed play by play of how Puddlemere United had managed to cinch it from the Kestrels.  His arms gesticulated wildly, and whoosh…there was a puddle of fire whiskey all over an unsuspecting witch or wizard.

“Oh, shit..sorry.”

[fennyben-blog]

Benjy narrowed his eyes for a bit but laughed it off. James was a very exuberant man, and this was not the first time Benjy had seen his comrade gesture brashly in his excitement. He took a few bar napkins and dabbed at the wet spot on his white shirt. The red stain was pretty noticeable. “You might as well be speaking Russian to me, Potter. You know I don’t know anything about Quidditch.”

He chuckled and tossed the napkins on the bar top, taking another sip of his old fashioned. He pulled the wand from his back pocket, recited an incantation, and the stain disappeared from his clothes. “Too bad that spell doesn’t rid me of the smell. Help me name this new cologne of mine since you put in most of the work.”

[mollsweaslxy]

WHEN: July, 1978 WHERE: Puddletown, Dorset EVENT: Puddlemere United’s Victory Celebration Party

Molly had found herself in a pub, following her boys. They figured since it was the busiest, it would better their chances of meeting someone they deemed to be of importance. She sat down at an empty seat at the bar, turned at an angle so she was sitting sideways to the counter, and watched her kids, making sure they never left her vision. She quickly looked back as the voice of the young bar tender started hitting on her. She rolled her eyes and looked away, deciding just to ignore it.

By now she was used to it. Ever since her later years at Hogwarts, she had lost count of how many guys had hit on her solely for her figure. She had always been big breasted, that much was always apparent, but with kids, the most recent being twins, pregnancy had altered it significantly. “It’s not hard to match the redheaded kids with the one redhead in the entire pub,” she said to herself.

[fennyben-blog]

The bar smelled of cigarette smoke and victory, as most of the Puddlemere fans had shown themselves to exacerbate their happiness and rowdiness with alcohol. Benjy, himself, had down a few shots of firewhisky, but not because the team had won. He could care less about Quidditch, and his drinking was a reward for writing three sentences for his column piece.

He watched as the red-head sat down beside him, and he gave her a flashy smile before turning back to order another drink from the bar. But, the bartender was a bit distracted by the woman, and the look of annoyance on her face was apparent. Although Benjy was no knight in shining armor, he believed it would be right to let this man grossly distract himself. “Oi, there. This is my wife, and it’d be quite nice of you if you’d leave her alone and get us a drink.”

When the bartender left, he looked over to see that her eyes were more focused on the horizon outside the door, and he followed her gaze to see two little boys with fiery hair like hers playing in the dirt. He chuckled, wondering if she had even heard his noble deed. “Well, if we were married, you apparently have the stronger genetics.”

[evan-rosixr]

WHEN: July 1978 WHERE: Puddletown, Dorset, England EVENT: Puddlemere United’s Victory Celebrations

“I always preferred the Wimbourne Wasps,” Evan stated, his nose slightly curling up at the sight of all the Puddlemere colours: navy blue and gold seemed to be covering every inch of the environment. The theming reminded him heavily of Hogwarts and the ‘banding together’ that the professors seemed to force down their throats.  Even if it wasn’t Evan’s team, he was here for the booze, the likely hood of meeting a ‘friend’ for the evening, and maybe finding out some information that would be useful at a later date. “Do you even support Puddlemere?”

[fennyben-blog]

"Not really. Sports were never my thing,” Benjy replied with a soft laugh and a shrug. He had arrived in Puddletown for work, and though there was already a witch who wrote for the sports sectional of the Daily Prophet, Benjy was more interested in writing about the after party. A flood of witches and wizards in the Puddlemere’s colors reminded him of a painting by Vincent Van Gogh, and aesthetically, he found the colors to be very appealing and complimentary to the clear night sky. 

He had been jotting down random tidbits of his experiences when the man came up to him. Benjy had recognized him almost immediately, as they went to school together, but he never had officially talked to other man. He wondered if the other recognized him as well. The two had been a few years apart and had been in different houses. Nevertheless... “I’m just here for the festivities, if you want me to be honest. Drinking is my game.”

[victorious-make-it-shine]