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@flcamont
solitude / ghosts / needles
solitude: name three things your muse couldn’t live without.
his family, his magic, and his 1943 moontrimmer broomstick
ghosts: has your muse ever seen something they couldn’t explain?
he still hasn’t been able to explain how he disappeared. everything around the incident those few months ago is completely black in his memory.
needles: does your muse have a strong stomach?
absolutely not.
Fear-Themed Headcanon Questions
Send one (or a few) to my muse and they’ll answer:
Spiders: Does your muse squish bugs or put them outside? The Dark: Did your muse sleep with a nightlight as a child? Snakes: Would your muse ever keep an unusual/exotic pet? Blood: What’s the worst injury your muse has ever had? Clowns: Does your muse prefer comedy? Or horror? Mirrors: What is your muse’s least favorite thing about their appearance? Tight Space: Does your muse ever feel that they’re not living up to their own potential? Closet Monsters: Does your muse hide any aspects of their personality/life from others? Crowds: What does your muse think of big cities? Death: Name one thing your muse has lost that they wish they could get back. Ghosts: Has your muse ever seen something they couldn’t explain? Needles: Does your muse have a strong stomach? Curses: Does your muse believe in good/bad luck? How about karma? Heights: Is your muse a risk-taker? Solitude: Name 3 things your muse couldn’t live without. Fire: Would your muse rather be very cold, or very hot? Failure: Has your muse ever given up on an important dream? Abandonment: How would your muse win back someone who left them? The Unknown: Is your muse a philosophical person? Boogeyman: What position does your muse sleep in? Falling: What does your muse think about falling in love or commitment? Change: What was a turning point in your muse’s life? Disease: What does your muse do on a sick day? Number 13: Does your muse believe any superstitions? Noise: Name one sound your muse finds absolutely unbearable. Insects: Name something your muse finds gross or annoying. Dolls: Has your muse ever collected something? Getting Old: Would your muse rather live 50 years loved, or 200 years alone? Social Phobia: Does your muse consider themselves an outgoing person?
florencerosier:
//
She arched a single eyebrow, but said nothing in response to his joke, instead letting her gaze flicker to the spine, hoping to catch sight of the title. Florence pressed her lips into a polite smile, mimicking his movements and leaning back into her chair herself. He was right, of course. It wasn’t often she made personal visits to the aurors offices. It never felt like the benefits outweighed the risks, and as she’d gotten older, Florence didn’t often lean into risks. Of course, it felt as if all that was about to go out the window – something violent was brewing, and she had a feeling that this time, she’d be more hands-on than before. “I thought perhaps I would come offer my services,” she replied, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. Florence wasn’t one for small talk – not with Aurors, especially – and she didn’t want to waste any time. “I imagine it’s a bit unorthodox, but I can’t imagine much progress has been made in hunting down the suspect or figuring out how he did what he did.” She paused, examining his face for a moment. “I think I could help.”
///
Monty tilted his head to the side, thoughtful for a moment. He pressed his fingertips together lightly in his lap, considering her offer. They certainly weren’t on the best of terms—he had heard plenty of rumors about Florence and her potential involvement with a darker side of their community, though nothing had been verified—and it made him wonder why she would want to put forth any sort of effort towards making the disaster from the previous week less of a mess. Then again, he supposed any threat to magic would be a threat to them all, regardless of which side of the war they were on. “There are some strange metal things from around the arena,” he said. “The muggle artefacts office calls them ‘antenna,’ but I wonder if someone with your expertise would be better equipped to say if they were involved in what happened.” He paused. “I’ll have to talk to the Head Auror, but it might be useful to have you take a look at them.”
florencerosier:
Florence smiled, reaching out and shaking his proffered hand. She sank into the chair opposite him, her eyes flickering over his desk, taking note of a few of the headings on the papers spread out in front of him. Old habit. She wasn’t here on Riddle’s request, and she planned on keeping any information she learned today to herself. She was beginning to have her doubts about Riddle. He was afraid - rightfully so - but his fear was making him consider making alliances with those who would normally disagree with the Knights and their methods. Florence thought it was weakness, similar to what led Grindelwald to his defeat. All this, of course, she kept to herself. No need to include others on her doubts. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting you.” She said, tilting her head towards Fleamont’s desk. “Were you working on something important?”
///
He tapped the large tome next to him. “Just a bit of light reading,” he joked casually before leaning back in his seat. “Now, tell me. What brings you to the Auror Office this afternoon? I’ve rarely seen you stray from your work in other departments.” He was certain it had something to do with the rally, and it was going to be somewhat humiliating to have to admit that they didn’t have anything yet, but he figured he would have to get used to it. People assumed that just because he was an auror, he would have the answers to everything, but Fleamont was often left with more questions than answers after something like what happened just a few days ago and he would just have to get used to saying that to people. It would suck, but he just had to bite the bullet and get it done. Besides, he was certain they would have something soon. He didn’t know what he’d do if they didn’t.
effiexpotter:
-
Effie shook her head silently, taking in a moment that she thought for a second she’d never get to have again. “We could send James with my parents.” Effie said after some silence. She decided not to join the Order fully because she wanted to stay home and care for James. However, after the events of the day, Effie wanted to protect her husband to ensure their little family would survive the war. Effie was a stubborn, stubborn woman– she knew Fleamont would fight her on it, but she knew that he knew Effie wouldn’t budge. “I can help you, I have the experience under my belt from the last war…”
///
Monty tilted his head thoughtfully. “Do you really want to fight again?” He remembered how much it had taken from her before, the fear that both of them had of never seeing each other again. Fleamont didn’t want to stop her if this was what she needed to do—he never wanted to be that kind of husband—but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about their son if both of them were fighting. “We’d have to figure out what would happen to James. If something happens. And—” He paused. “If you fight, I wouldn’t.” He shrugged once. “I wouldn’t want to leave James an orphan.” Was it a dark conversation to have? Yes, but it was a necessary one. They’d lost enough people in the last war to know that much.
florencerosier:
[ @flcamont ]
It had been awhile since Florence had walked through the halls of the Ministry. As a young woman, she’d spent most of her time here, making small metal charms alongside a handful of other bright young women. She had, of course, been using the time to gather information for Grindelwald, but there was no reason for anyone to suspect her of that. She’d been very careful. She’d left the Ministry a few years after Grindelwald had fallen to Dumbledore and had tried her best to maintain a professional working relationship with the people inside the building. It was those professional working relationships that got her inside today. The Ministry was busy, as she’d anticipated. A lot of people milling about trying to solve the same mystery she was. It was what had brought her here.
She arrived in front of the Auror’s office, his name neatly embossed on the wood. Fleamont Potter. He’d been one of the Aurors assigned to the event - one of a few, if Florence’s intel was correct. The rumors about Auror Lupin left him less than desirable to interact with, so Florence was here, hoping she could get some more information from a source that wasn’t as close to her. She knocked twice. “Auror Potter? I was hoping to ask you a few questions.”
///
Fleamont had been swamped with work ever since the rally. He hadn’t been sleeping very much, oftentimes bringing files home from work and working late into the night, sitting up in bed with a light shining from his wand and illuminating the parchments in front of him. That day, he had been poring over research on the origins and energy behind magic, the place where magic came from and the place where it would go. It was all about transformation of energy, Fleamont was finding out, but as he got more into the nitty gritty of the science behind magic, he was starting to feel like his brain was oozing out of his ears. He closed the book in front of him and sighed, rubbing his forehead once and looking out at the bullpen outside of his office. He and Lyall, being senior aurors, had their own offices, but the junior aurors all made do with desks in the large area of the office outside.
He watched as Florence approached across the bullpen, his curiosity piqued the instant he saw her. It wasn’t necessarily unusual to see a metal-charmer of her caliber around the Ministry, as the Ministry often hired some of their more complicated spellwork out to private contractors such as Florence, but she rarely made an appearance in the Auror Office. “Yes, Madam Rosier, please take a seat,” he said, standing up and reaching a hand out to shake.
[ @lyallslvpin reacted for a starter! ]
Once they had gotten through taking statements from everyone at the rally, Fleamont was about ready to just bang his against the wall over and over. It felt more useful than anything they did that day, the events of the rally having drained Fleamont of what he was used to always relying on. Being a pureblood meant that he had never even considered a life without magic—he didn’t know what he was going to do if he was stuck without his magic in a situation like that again. He looked over at Lyall where they were sitting near the arena where the rally took place. “Are you all right, mate?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly. Lyall had been affected more than Fleamont by the loss of his magic, and he still looked a little green.
effiexpotter:
@flcamont xo
She sat next to him in their bed, silently tracing random shapes into the crease of his elbow. She’d been oddly quiet since bringing him home after the rally, too consumed with all the thoughts going through her mind. Effie couldn’t believe that she allowed herself to let him go alone. And of course he wasn’t truly alone, he had Lyall with him– but he didn’t have her there. Effie was viciously loyal to her husband, and she stubbornly believed that no one would protect him as well as she would. That no one would put everything on the line for him like she would. Effie was so angry with herself that evening, and she just held onto Fleamont a little tighter. “When do you think he’ll return?” She asked softly.
///
Fleamont had been exhausted after the rally, almost immediately falling into bed once they got home and crawling under the covers. The entire day had been far too much for Fleamont to handle, even with his auror training and the years of experience under his belt. He didn’t know how he was supposed to protect people without his magic. He didn’t know how he was supposed to protect himself. Fleamont had his arms wrapped around Effie, his lips pressed against her temple as he just kept thanking god, over and over, that he had made it home that day. “I don’t know,” he said. “But we have to be ready.”
hopeh:
under normal circumstances, she’d never hesitate to let fleamont through the door . but as soon she hears his enthusiastic timbre through the other side of the door, she can’t help but think about lyall’s hesitation — his fervent insistence that they separate themselves from everything, and everyone they know . but then she thinks about remus’ sad, questioning eyes, and it urges her to, at the very least, open the door . to face the interruption her husband’s so afraid of .
she smiles at their ( adorable ) appearance, but doesn’t dare open the door any further . yet . more than anything, she’d like to let them in — to shake remus from his nap and see him enjoy his day . to think that everything’s normal and is going to be alright . but it’s not — and she still can’t even begin to comprehend everything that’s happened in such a short amount of time . “ i’d love to join you, fleamont . but remus — ” she sighs, looking at her shoes . “ he’s just gone down for a nap . ” she looks back up, apologetically, hoping he’ll accept her fib without argument . “ … another time, perhaps . ”
///
fleamont put a hand out to stop the door. “hey. listen. i...” he paused, unsure of how to continue what he was saying but not wanting to stop talking to hope yet. he felt bad about just barging in like this—it used to be that whenever he showed up, they were always ready to go on a walk or take the boys down to the park or even just sit and have a cup of tea when the boys were playing. everything seemed like it had changed and fleamont didn’t know how to make things go back to the way they used to be.
“lyall isn’t talking to me. and i don’t know if something happened, you don’t have to say anything about it if you don’t want to, but...” fleamont felt stupid saying this, especially since he saw lyall everyday at work, but he didn’t know how else to put what he was feeling into words. “i miss you. all three of you. so, please—i don’t even need to see remus or come inside or anything. but i just want to talk.”
aybiges:
not one to put her faith in the hands of law enforcement, aybige could only hum in noncommittal response to his reassurance, fingers patting down the front of her jeans where the chestnut wand laid concealed in a tight pocket ─ but it is not the auror that draws her attention next, but the sound of someone seemingly apparating onto the stage, though she did not remember the magical method of transportation to sound so loud or appear so smoky. frowning slightly, the apprehensive sinking in her belly grows further at the stranger’s words and then, at the sound of the doors locking noisily. ( too loud. were the english truly so obvious in their magic or was this man just unskilled at subtlety ? ) yet she cannot focus on his words or the lost of an escape route when her head spins, bile rising up the slender column of her throat. the quiet humming of her wand, always thrumming with interwoven magic, fades against her thigh as she gags, grateful that her stomach was empty. ❝ what … ? ❞ her gaze locks on the closed doors and then at the tented arena ─ there was no escape. panic rises in her chest, burning and she shakes her head vehemently, fingers reaching to grasp his arm. ❝ what happened … you … you too ? ❞ ( a plea ─ please tell me i am not alone in this. so much for not putting her faith in the law. ) ❝ shit … looks like the fighting started earlier than expected. ❞ around them, chaos. bodies pushing towards the exits, one of which she happened to be near. ❝ we should get to the stage … elevated. ❞ height meant freedom, after all, and if she did not get out of the crowd, she may just lose consciousness.
///
fleamont reached over as she reached out for him, instinctively taking her hand and placing it on his forearm. “hold on, all right? i’m going to get you to the stage.” he started to push his way through the crowd. “auror, auror, i’m a bloody auror, let me through!” he yelled, through it was to no avail. he managed to squeeze them through the crowd for some time, but upon seeing fights breaking out near the stage, he turned to the woman next to him. “what’s your name?” he asked, and when he got his response, he gestured up towards the stands. “miss shafiq, i’m going to take you up to the top, okay? it might not feel much safer, but it’s much less crowded, and you’ll be all right up there until we figure out what’s going on.” he started to go back the way they came from, pulling her through the crowd until they made it to the stairs. he pulled out his wand to try and hex people out of the way, but he realized that it would be pointless and stowed it back in his robes. “come on. stay close to me, all right? i’ll make sure you’re okay.”
lyallslvpin:
“He’d be in his right mind if he left.” Lyall shook his head when there was no sign of Alphard meeting them. He had debated coming himself, but if Fleamont was going then Lyall had to be there. Not only because they were partners and Lyall needed to have his back, but because Monty was his best friend and Lyall wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened here. Once the doors closed, Lyall felt a cold sweat wash over him accompanied by a pounding headache. “Mont– Mont, I’m not feeling so great right now.”
///
“Oi...Lyall, mate, come on,” Fleamont said, taking Lyall’s arm and slinging it over his shoulder. Thankfully, Fleamont’s side effects of losing his magic were slight, just some nausea and cold sweats, but Lyall seemed to be much worse off. “Come on, let’s get you down somewhere.” Monty furrowed his brow as he tried to find a place where they could go off to the side quietly in the panic, and, upon seeing that there was nowhere, he just helped Lyall down to the ground right where they were. “That’s it, mate, that’s it.”
aybiges:
startled, her gaze is drawn to the sound of a muffled disagreement, ears pricking with attention to discern the topic of contention as the volume of the voices steadily rises ─ predictably, it is founded on the very rally that they had all gathered to attend and the thought that such arguments were already being had before the damned speaker had taken to the podium did not sit easily in her stomach. dragging the ivory of her teeth against the flesh of her bottom lip until the dried skin begun to throb with sensitivity, she watches as a man in a brown trench coat interrupts the conversation, effectively ending the quarrel before it could blow to even bigger proportions. humming lightly, partially to ease her own nerves and to fill the stilted silence that followed the dispersing of the two other figures, she calls out to the auror in question, a tight smile playing at her mouth. ❝ i doubt that will be the last pair you will have to break apart … are there enough aurors to handle damage control when this eventually backfires on all of us ? ❞ she did not mean to sound like a sceptic, unaware of how her words may paint her as someone opposing the rally and all it stood for.
///
“i assure you, miss, we will be able to handle anything that comes our way,” fleamont replied with a reassuring nod. he pressed his lips together as he surveyed the crowd and looked back at the woman in front of him. “you better—” he started before someone appeared on stage behind him with a sound like a whip cracking. he flinched and turned, and upon realizing what was happening, he turned back to aybige. “you should leave,” he said, looking around for an exit and finding that they were all sealed. “just, uh—” he was starting to panic, and he was feeling lightheaded and somewhat dizzy from the loss of his magic. thankfully, he was just as good with his fists as he was with a wand. “stay close to me, all right? we’re going to figure this out.”
lyallslvpin:
Lyall escorted the instigator out of the arena before making his way back to Fleamont where they were keeping an eye on everything. Unlike his partner, civilian security was one of Lyall’s least favorite things because he hated most people. He’d been hired on as an auror for his expertise in boggarts and poltergeists, not to deal with the not so occasional street scuffle. “This is ridiculous if you ask me.” He shook his head, “We got next to no back up if something wrong does happen. Did they really think all these bloody people were going to listen to just you and me?” Lyall scoffed.
///
“I dunno, mate, Alph is supposed to be here, but I don’t see him yet,” Fleamont said, looking around the arena for any sign of their third teammate. “We just gotta bloody figure it out, I guess.” He was about to say something else when someone appeared on the stage and Fleamont was completely distracted. He furrowed his brow, and as he realized what was happening, he started moving to the door. “We have to get these people—” Before he could finish his thought, the doors slammed shut and he felt the drain on his magic. He stumbled slightly, sticking a hand out to steady himself. “What the hell?”
“Please, everyone, just go to your seats in an orderly fashion,” Fleamont said as two people started to get into a heated discussion on the stairs up the side of the arena. He stepped easily between them as they started to raise their voices, turning to the person arguing against blood equality and warning them quietly. “Go, now, before you say something that you’ll regret,” he said, pointing up the rows of seats until they left. He let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head to himself. Civilian security was one of his favorite assignments, mostly because he liked people, but that day, Fleamont’d had a bad feeling creeping up the back of his neck. He had long since learned to trust his gut, and that day was no different. He needed to keep an eye out.
kmckinnxn:
。·:✧:· AFTER HER SHIFT, Kenzie couldn’t help herself. She had to know what was happening. But her biggest worry was her parents. They were the kind of people that would go and investigate something like this, just to see what was happening. Clenching her fists together, she walked through the streets, trying to find them. But the healer was having no luck, whatsoever. Her heart raced as she continued walking through the streets, hoping to find someone that could give her some insight into what would happen. Upon seeing someone off in the distance, she headed toward them. Lifting her head, she bit the corner of her lip, sighing softly. “Do you know what’s happening here exactly? Or why? I have a feeling my parents will get themselves into a right pickle as a result of this.”
Fleamont looked up, pursing his lips lightly and looking back down at the flyer. “For all intents and purposes, this looks like what it is,” he replied. “I don’t anticipate anything entirely out of hand happening.” He paused, pursing his lips again as he got caught deep in thought for a moment before he looked back up at her. “I think that you should probably tell your parents to stay home, though. Even if it’s just a rally for blood equality, it could still get pretty nasty.” Even if it remained what it was advertised to be, blood equality was a hot button issue, then and always. It was easy to forget for him, as someone who spent his time around people who weren’t purists, just how intense they could get about this, even if they weren’t a knight.
lyallslvpin:
Lyall seemed to waltz into the office just as he did into any other room– with the utmost confidence. All that was missing was his smile that could’ve sent Prince Charming packing. That smile hadn’t been seen for nearly half a year now since Fenrir Greyback targeted and attacked his two year old. While his stride was easy going and confident, Lyall’s face seemed to lack emotion these days. He quietly made his way to his desk with his hands stuffed into his tan wool trenchcoat.
He pulled out a crumpled flyer from his pocket and let it drop onto Fleamont’s desk. “They popped up on my bloody walk to work.” Lyall grumbled as he dropped his work bag underneath his desk. He took off his coat so that we was left in his black turtleneck and slacks before collapsing into his chair. Lyall let out a sigh as he looked over all the paperwork he’d left from the weekend. He hated taking it home, and he knew Hope hated him taking it home too– but he hated it a little more when it sat untouched for days.
“I’ll have it under control..” Lyall spoke quietly. Normally, he would’ve engaged in some friendly banter with Fleamont but his mind had been more occupied. That weekend, he and Hope took Remus to a healer in Barbados that could supposedly treat lycanthropgy. And once again, they’d been conned out of their money and Remus was still unchanged.
Fleamont felt his smile falter when Lyall spoke to him, picking up the flier to look at it. He cocked his head to the side, turning the paper over in his hands and feeling it between his fingers. “Something about this seems off,” he said, his brow furrowed as he looked at the images. They were almost too perfect. They were almost too much like something that he would expect to see. When Fleamont wasn’t surprised, he was worried that there was a surprise in store further down the line, and now was no exception.
He pursed his lips lightly, looking back down at his desk and tapping a pen against it for a moment. “Hey, mate, James has really been up my arse about seeing Remus. He has a present for him, apparently, though I’m pretty sure it’s dirt that he put in a shoebox under his bed.” Fleamont gave Lyall an encouraging smile. “Think we can get them together to eat dirt or whatever it is they do?” He paused. “We can spend some time planning out security for the rally, too.”
[ @lyallslvpin ]
