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⎯ ✴︎ “ I’m not saying that book is rubbish. No books are rubbish, but I am saying I’m not about to recommend it to anyone and that includes you. ”

#rebellion: starter #ooc: probably anywhere like his shop #or anywhere pretty neutral or diagon #anyone can answer

sifwinter

▵ — Sif crossed her arms as he spoke, letting her smile fall and feigning complete and total seriousness. She stared right back at him, straight through his sharp nod and lingering smile, her eyebrows raised in accusation. “ Court? You’re making a joke about a lawsuit? That’s not funny, John. You know how I feel about courtrooms. ” She kept her voice stern and her smile turned downwards. “ You are an awful, terrible person, Johnathan Compton, and I cannot believe that you would ever say such a thing to me. ”

Sif watched from the corner of her eye as he walked until he stood only two feet away from her, scooped up what was left of the crumbs that hadn’t made their way to the floor yet, and almost smiled when he lobbed them at her. She kept her arms crossed and stayed facing away from him, staying silent for a moment longer. Finally, she shrugged. “ I suppose so, ” she said, making her voice sound light and grudging.

⎯ ✴︎ John let out an easy laugh before he shook his head. He knew all of this conversation was teasing and joking around and honestly it was a lot of how it always was when they were alone. If they weren’t teasing, they were supporting each other through something, and if not either of those, talking about their day or a new book they’d read. It was easiness amid the chaos elsewhere. “I was only stating that in case you should want to take it further, nothing more,” he said, raising his hands in defense. “It was only to save you time.”

“Now you’re mad at me, aren’t you?” He said, knowing it was only playing, but he figured he’d play right along like she was. “I did as you asked. Continue the battle. Or is this about the court bit?” He closed the space between them a little bit more to less that a foot. “What if I asked to dance with you? Would you give me that honor?”

#☆ 〉〉sif winter ;#☆ 〉〉paras ;

sif winter

▵ — Sif crossed her arms as John spoke, raising a skeptical eyebrow as he did, looking as though she were hardly paying attention. It was an old tactic, and one that John was probably used to. But she used it anyway, partially because it was what she did, and partially because he would see right through it. “ Just because you’re also dancing doesn’t mean I’m not going to see through that facade of yours, ” she said slowly, teasingly. “ I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me turn this into a full out battle, aren’t you? ”

She put down her broom and lifted her arms at her side, presenting herself as an open target. “ Well, you’re not going to win that easy. I’m not going to give in to this charade. Finish the battle, Johnathan Compton. Show me what you can do, heathen. ”

⎯ ✴︎ John knew what that look was for and what she was doing. She was pretending to not hear him or pay attention. She’d used it before on him and she’d used it around him. An amused smile spread across his lips before he shrugged a bit. “You’re still the one that started it, I was minding my own business.” He nose laughed a little. “It’s merely fact. Should this be brought to court the charges would be dropped instantly.” He crossed his arms and gave a sharp nod, but still had the smile on his face.

He let it fall though in fake seriousness and he set down the towel on the table. He rounded it in even steps and approached her until he was a little less than two feet in front of her. He then eye-d the crumbs on a nearby table before he reached out to them.

His eyes turned back up to look at her before he lightly tossed the crumbs in his hand at her. “Is that finished enough for you? Or will you need to return fire?”

#☆ 〉〉sif winter ;#☆ 〉〉paras ;

t-edtonks

Ted beamed when he received positive answer from the other man. “Right! I’m sure there’s plenty of books your dad might enjoy.” Scratching on his head, Ted walked over to one side of the room, scanning the shelves with his eyes before reaching out to fetch two books. “That sounds like something she could like,” he agreed, grinning at John over his shoulder. “And that shouldn’t be a problem. Actually…” He looked around to make sure nobody else was in the shop or even lurking through the window. “I think your dad might like some muggle books also. There’s nothing quite like real gardening, my dad says.” Pulling out his wand, Ted tapped a number of books in a specific order before one of the bookcases moved forward and shifted to the side, revealing another set of shelves full of prohibited books. He believed he could trust John.

⎯ ✴︎ An easy smile crossed John’s face as he watched Ted look over the shelves. Honestly it was nice to focus on something other than the war for once and actually focus on a way to help his parents not think about it. “I’ll bring it around later, then,” he said with a nod. He’d left it behind because he wasn’t sure if Ted would want to be seen with it around. Then Ted offered up muggle books of his own for John to give to his father. He watched as he revealed the hidden set of shelves before he approached. “This would also make it easier for my mother to participate as well.”

#☆ 〉〉ted tonks ;#☆ 〉〉paras ;

sifwinter

▵ — Sif didn’t have to wonder where she’d be without John Compton - she knew. She’d be in the ground next to her brother, long forgotten, helping nobody. Or she’d still be at that podium, struggling through the words she’d written through tears and no sleep, speech shaking in her hands, knees weak, dizzy. She’d felt strongly about John since she was young - what teenager didn’t have a crush on her older brother’s best friend? - but she never loved him more than she did in that moment.

She thought about that now, as she watched him weave his way through her café tables, still by her side. Always by her side. Sif smiled at him as she mindlessly swept the floor. “ My threat is simple. I’ll never let you forget it. You know how grudging I am. ” She made the mistake of letting her guard down after throwing the crumbs at his front, using the broom as a sort of dancing partner as she swayed to the music, a mischievous smile on her lips. “ Too tired to fight, who said anything about too tired to fight? I thought I said I was too tired to clean. But a chance to fight with you, now that I simply can’t miss. ”

Sif laughed and turned her back for half a moment, spinning mindlessly with the music, but when she was facing him once more, she flinched at the sudden movement and laughed in surprise. “ So this is what you want to do now? You want to start a full blown crumb war? Think long and hard before you answer. ”

⎯ ✴︎ A wide grin crossed John’s face at the answer to his question about the threats. “Well, if I’m never to forget that I helped you clean more than asked of me, I could hardly feel sorry for it,” he said with a light nod before he went back to wiping tables. He glanced at her as she danced with the broom. His grin turned to just a smile in the peacefulness of the action. He thought to join her, tapping the broom out and dancing with her. “You actually did say you were too tired to fight with me over helping you clean or not. Unless that was really just a way to get me distracted for your crumb attack.”

John half-smirked before his face relaxed and he shrugged non-chalantly. “It wasn’t me who started anything. You threw them first.” He went back to wiping the second to last table. “It was merely a defensive counterattack.”

#☆ 〉〉sif winter ;#☆ 〉〉paras ;

t-edtonks

Sometimes Ted was glad his parents and their relatives were all Muggles, he felt that somehow - no matter how ironic it was - it put them in less of a danger than families of 'blood traitors’. If his own wife and child couldn’t be completely safe, he wanted at least his parents to be. “Maybe it will do him good,” he smiled encouragingly. “He could pick up gardening or something. I can send him some books, if you want?”

⎯ ✴︎ John smiled at the offer. Honestly kindness like this was so rare that he was almost surprised by it when it came up. Not that it surprised him that it came from Ted. He was a good man with a big heart. “That would be lovely actually,” he said with a smile before he glanced behind himself then back to Ted. “I got my hands on a book that Dora would like... maybe. It’s called Half Magic. Four siblings find a coin that grants only half-wishes. Though it is banned for being muggle produced.”

#☆ 〉〉ted tonks ;#☆ 〉〉paras ;

t-edtonks

Ted ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know man,” he said, blowing air out through his half opened mouth. “It’s been hanging in the air for a while now, I feel, but none of us actually has the guts to bring it up. I’m not sure if Andromeda would be willing to move abroad.” He threw his hands in the air before sighing. “And I couldn’t do that to my folks, my mum already complains she doesn’t see Dora enough, imagine if we went away.” Noticing one book that’s been forgotten on the desk, Ted reached out to grab it and examined its cover for a second to determine its new place. “I’m sorry to hear about your dad,” he glanced up to give John a sympathetic look. “But retirement might be good for him, right? How old is he anyway?”

⎯ ✴︎ John nodded with what Ted said. Honestly the whole situation was a double edged sword. On one hand, you got out of this mess and maybe saved time before it caught up with you again. On the other, it would put you away from your family and friends who were left behind. “I understand that,” he said, the corner of his mouth pulling back a little flatly. “Mostly stuff like that’s what’s keeping me here too.” His eyes followed Ted putting the book away as his thoughts wandered. He wished it was as simple as leaving to get away from it. “He’s fifty-six. The retirement is a bit early... earlier than he’d wanted. Still it is good for mum and him for now.”

#☆ 〉〉ted tonks ;#☆ 〉〉paras ;

sifwinter

i just want to catch you if i can, i just want to be there when the morning light explodes on your face it radiates

[ aesthetics. ]

#☆ 〉〉sif winter ;#☆ 〉〉musings ;#☆ 〉〉aesthetics ;

character aesthetics { 1 / ? }

#☆ 〉〉aesthetics ;#☆ 〉〉musings ;

mayainks

“It’s been alright,” Ted said as he climbed the small steps by the wall to put some new books on the shelves. “You know, with Hogwarts being closed it kind of complicates things a bit, but I’m gonna be honest with you, it was hard for me when Dora left in September so I’m actually glad to have her home.” He was talking with his back to the other person, reaching from the steps to the far left until almost falling down. He could’ve sent the books to their places with his wand, sure, but sometimes he preferred to do things the Muggle way. “But I’m not gonna lie, she is a handful, although I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Regaining his balance on the steps, the shop owner climbed down and brushed his hands on each other. “So, how’s your family been?” he asked, finally turning around to see the other person, realising that up until this point he had no idea who he was actually talking to.

johnathancompton-blog

⎯ ✴︎ John watched Ted go about his work while talking about matters with his daughter. He couldn’t imagine the exact feelings he had over his daughter being out of school. Hogwarts closing was devastating. Yes there was a promise of it opening again, but he knew just as well as most that meant there would be cuts. Who knew where they drew the line. “Have Andromeda and you discussed Ilvermorny or Beauxbatons? They say Hogwarts will open again, but... even I have thought quite frequently about leaving the country.” He knew deep down he couldn’t leave. He was there to help the Rebellion, but he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t entertain the idea once in a while. “The Comptons are alright. Brilliant, probably. They fit quite comfortably in this ‘New Order.’ My father, however, seen as a bloodtraitor has been forced into retirement. Which is just as well so he can be there for my mother. She knows what happening, but pretends she doesn’t so both my father and I pretend as well. They’ve moved out of London now though.”

#☆ 〉〉ted tonks ;#☆ 〉〉paras ;#ooc: john's mother's a muggle and his father was a pureblood

sifwinter

▵ — Sif knew how lucky she was to have John next door - luckier still that his shop adjoined her coffee shop. It wasn’t often that you become sort-of business partners with someone who also happened to be an excellent friend. One of the best. He was kinder than most, and smart - and didn’t deserve any of the cruelty that this world threw at him. The fire had been unbearable. Johns helplessness had been worse. There weren’t a lot of reasons to smile nowadays, but John always managed to be one for her, so she always made sure to do the same for him. She loved when he smiled - really smiled. It was like you could see every single happy thought he’s ever had, and that was something not many people had.

“I hope you know that the only reason I’m not telling you to stop from cleaning is because I’m too tired to start a fight,“ Sif teased, walking around the counter and tossing him a towel. “For now just push all the crumbs to the floor and I’ll sweep it up, and don’t you dare try to do any other work,” she instructed with a smirk, weaving back around the counter with a broom in hand. She glanced over her shoulder and waved her wand, and the dishes neatly floated to the backroom, where they would wash themselves in the sink. “How do you feel about some off the cob music?” she asked, and waved her wand again towards the radio in the corner. Nothing. “Oh, wanker,” she mumbled, tapping her wand against her leg as if that would change anything. She waved it again, and the radio reluctantly started up.

Sif grinned towards John, laughing. “Now that’s more like it.” She twirled the broomstick in her hands as if it were a toy before actually putting it to use, humming with the music as John spoke. Not a lot of people are eager to discuss books these days. Her smile faltered when he said this and she looked down, remembering the smell of the flames and the feeling of dread that had built up in her chest that day. The sadness. “Well, you know I’ll always love discussing books. Nothing better,” she said slowly, putting on her everything-is-fine-and-I’m-perfectly-wonderful voice. As she did so, she paused beside one of the tables, where someone had broken up a tea cake into a hundred pieces and simply let it there. Barbarians, she thought, but the minute the negativity came to her mind, it was replaced with a much better idea.

“Hey, John?” Sif called, quickly scooping the crumbs into her hand. “Think fast.”

⎯ ✴︎ John sometimes wondered what he’d do without Sif next door. He certainly would’ve become some sort of recluse. He knew that was a lie. John Compton could never become a recluse, but he had to admit he wouldn’t be himself. The smiles would be fake and obviously so at that. Everything he said would be half-committed. He’d probably not still be John. He’d be a shadow of him. But Sif was there and she’d been there for when it mattered. She was there to remind him that if he didn’t keep himself, they’d win. Oh how he didn’t want them to win. They could do what they’d done to him, claim they’d won the war, but they’d still haven’t won.

“I’m glad you admitted that because that’s why I didn’t protest the tips,” he teased back with a shrug. “We know each other too well for our own good.” He then laughed at her warning as he went to pick up a towel before going to the first table. “Now why should I not dare? You must have some threat.” He laughed again before he started wiping one of the tables down. When she asked about the music, he hummed a “yes” and moved onto the next table. He let a smiled cross his face in understanding as he heard her struggles with the music.

Once the music started, an easy smile stayed on his face and he tapped his foot a little when he wasn’t moving between tables. The smile disappeared when he heard her tone. He knew that tone well and knew what she was doing. He hadn’t meant to bring back the memories with what he said. It had been a terrible day for anyone involved and to him emphasized what the New Order was all about. They would destroy anything that didn’t fit their perfect. It was starting with the muggleborns, he was sure it would continue to those with just a muggle parent next. Books really should be the last of anyone’s worries in the end even with the symbolism. “I know. I’ll have to remember to visit in the middle of the day when I need someone to speak at.”

When she called out to him though, he looked up and turned, confused until he was suddenly pelted with some crumbs.

He laughed, brushing the crumbs from the front of his shirt. “Oh? I thought you were too tired to fight.” He set down the towel before he quickly swept up the crumbs into his hand that were left on the table before throwing them at her.

#☆ 〉〉sif winter ;#☆ 〉〉paras ;

alicelongbottomrebel

Alice was slightly proud of herself for coming up with such a reasonable excuse for her to be at the store without her buying a daily prophet, which had been the actual reason she was there in the first place. Although, it probably was a good idea for her to get a book for Neville since he hadn’t had much a chance at an education while they’d been on the run.

Alice followed closely behind him with a small smile. “Four. He is four years old.” She began to think about how it seemed like only yesterday that Neville had turned one year old. He grew up too fast. “Thank you by the way. It’s been awhile since he has gotten a proper bed time story. His father is running out of ideas to base his made up ones on.”

⎯ ✴︎ John nodded. Four. That was easy. He wanted to be suggesting from a long list of muggle books that neither her nor her son had possibly read before. But he had enough to give her for suggestions that would make her son happy. “There’s this new one,” he said pulling a green book from the shelf. “It’s about this man with a funny name, but has an even more funny hobby.” He then turned to pick up another one. This one had a red cover. “The woman in this one collects wands and they tell her stories about their previous owner’s adventures.” And finally, he pulled one out with a brown cover. “This one is about a dragon who becomes friends with a hippogryph.”

#☆ 〉〉alice longbottom ;#☆ 〉〉paras ;

amosdiggoryhq

Johnny Camper—Amos didn’t know who the man was but he hoped for his sake he wasn’t seriously going to hunt down werewolves. There was no way that would end well for him and it would likely be Amos who had to go and clean up the mess. He couldn’t contain the dramatic eye roll as the man in front of him in line gushed about the “hero” to the clerk. “He’ll end up in St. Mungo’s… if he’s lucky,” Amos muttered darkly under his breath. It wasn’t like him to argue with a complete stranger but honestly he was unable to help himself here. The whole thing was entirely idiotic.

“Hi,” he said with a slightly flatter smile than usual. His entire department was full of people demanding answers and a response so Amos was treating himself to an extra long lunch and had decided to pick up a book for Cedric after passing a bookstore. “I was wondering if you had anything for kids, maybe something by Beetle the Bard with animated drawings?” Those stories were classics and him and Gabrielle would have fun tucking their son into bed with them.

⎯ ✴︎ John had managed to catch Amos’s remark and was quite frankly relieved to know someone other than him was thinking the same way. He recognized him as head of the Department for Magical Creatures so it made perfect sense, but he wouldn’t have been surprised with how things had been with everyone else lately, especially with the Ministry trying to cover things up.

So with this in mind, he felt refreshed to be handling his question. “Yes, I do have something like that,” he moved from behind the desk and over to a shelf near the back. The decorations surrounding the shelf, which was much shorter than others for children to reach, were very animal centered and admittedly a couple weren’t only magical beasts. He pulled out a book from the shelf. “There’s one that reads itself, but I assume that isn’t quite what you’re looking for.” He held out the book to him. “This one, however, not only moves but the images pop up from the page.”

#☆ 〉〉amos diggory ;#☆ 〉〉paras ;

shesrottentothecore

— cissa nodded, “ yeah. you’re welcome. it’s going to be lossed out anyways, so rather it gets eaten than thrown out. ” she hated throwing out the breads at the end of the night, and she usually stopped baking early enough where there wasn’t leftover, but there were sometimes a few and she hated just throwing it out, and she had put muffins aside for dobby and tippy. “ everyone has their own methods. sometimes being nicer is better, ” narcissa replied. she’d never been particularly patient with customers. it was the main reason she didn’t like working the retail end of the bakery. she liked to play music in the back and bake. “ exactly. and i was always dreadful at divination anyways. ”

⎯ ✴︎ There was a thought that crossed John’s mind about suggesting she could start giving them to places he knew were involved in the rebellion, but he reminded himself it was few and far between to find supporters of it. And he was sure he remembered her being at least married to someone who was sided with the New Order. “Nevertheless, it’s still thoughtful.” He nodded at what she said next. Honestly, that had been his philosophy and truly still was for the most part. He’d just started to realize how cynical he was becoming and Sif knew him well enough to notice. “It’s certainly better. Makes you feel better to some extent anyway.” He wished things were back to the way they were in the end. Everyone was their best self then. “Truthfully, I don’t know too many that are good at Divination.”

#☆〉〉narcissa malfoy ;#☆ 〉〉paras ;

emiliexvanity

“With all the people like that around? I feel like I do.” Emma shrugged, watching as the man packaged it up for her. “You might not. But, quite fair, I’m tired of hearing it over an over. I can only but imagine that you are, too.” She laughed, lightly, then. “It is. The topic’s serious, but the way they’re making it to be- it’s too much.”

Nodding, the brunette pulled her wallet out of her purse, counting out the coins. “Here you go.” She spoke, handing it over to the man. “Though, I feel like you deserve more for having to deal with it. Personally, I just go to the pub at the end of my day.”

⎯ ✴︎ “I suppose if someone has to apologize since they’re certainly not going to, but I feel as though I should apologize to you for having to hear that since this is my store.” Honestly, it’s really nothing anyone should apologize for, but it helped to feel the solidarity in the situation. Especially one difficult and annoying like this. “I am. I’m sure those mentioned in it feel even more tired. Hopefully people have the decency to leave them alone though, unfortunately, I doubt it.” He laughed lightly at his own pessimism. He usually liked to think the best of people, but with the article and the reaction to it, he was doubting more than usual. “It’s serious. Very. But you’re right, it’s too much.” He wanted to say something about it seeming to be distracting or covering up the real problem, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Thank you,” he said, accepting the coins she handed him. He then smiled a bit with her suggestion. “That does sound nice. I should start trying that on difficult days like these.”

#☆ 〉〉emma vanity ;#☆ 〉〉paras ;

alicelongbottomrebel

It wasn’t too often that Alice had gotten the chance to the read the daily prophet. It was a slight guilty pleasure for her before the war had started. Especially when it came to the writings of Rita Skeeter. She had somehow gotten her hands on the newest edition that had been released. She had been, just as everyone else, interested by the story of Johnny Camper.

She had over heard the conversation the shop owner had had with a customer. She heard the sarcasm in his voice and quickly put the daily prophet in her hands down. She moved grabbing another book off a shelf as a distraction for herself.

Alice quickly scanned the book not really paying attention to what it said. She was about to buy it, but she wasn’t willing to spend anything on a book she wasn’t interested in. She walked up to the counter to speak with the guy. “Um… Do you have any good books that I could read with my son?”

⎯ ✴︎ Were this question asked before the New Order had instilled their new codes and laws and rid him of his former book inventory, John would have had lists upon lists to offer the woman. But as it was and with the muggle books hidden in his own apartment and in the back for those he was certain were rebels who wouldn’t turn him in. He had to rein in the suggestions he’d normally been so keen to give.

“Yes, I have several.” He pursed his lips together before he motioned for her to follow him over to another bookshelf. He had a couple books in mind, but turned to her first. “How old is your son by chance?”

#☆ 〉〉alice longbottom ;#☆ 〉〉paras ;

emiliexvanity

As terrible as it was, it was rare for Emma to actually get to visit the other stores. Yet, when she got a chance, she tried to use it as best as she could, knowing that another time would take forever to come. She knew she was pushing herself too much to work, but, then again, if she didn’t, her mind was constantly occupied with the what ifs. And it was something she couldn’t tolerate anymore.

Another way to push her inner demons aside, it seemed, was reading. So Emma wasn’t even all too surprised when she found herself picking out a book; and the heavier, the more complicated, the better. She was just going over to the counter when she heard another customer so passionately talk about something so ridiculous, and her eyebrows rose the slightest. People were all too gullible- and all too stupid at times.

“Oh no. Sorry about that.” She nodded at the customer that had just left. “Those talks are like a virus. Carried by the most gullible people.” Emma spoke, placing the book on the counter. Realizing that it was probably not something the man wanted to hear, she smiled a little, shaking her head. “Sorry. Again. I’ll just take this, please.”

⎯ ✴︎ John recognized Emma for more reasons than one he felt, but the major one and the one that struck him first was that she owned a shop in Diagon as well. He had an easy smile that crossed his face even as she apologized for the other customer. He figured she was probably just as tired over hearing about that article too. He was still just baffled that there wasn’t something everyone could find that was better to talk about.

“It’s alright and not really anything you have to apologize for,” he said, taking the book from her to package. “And it’s not that I truly have any right to be upset by any of it. The article certainly wasn’t about me nor was it an attack on me.” Which was sort of a lie, but he was sure no one knew Johnny Camper was him. “It’s only tiresome as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” He handed her her book back again. “A galleon and three sickles.”

#☆ 〉〉emma vanity ;#☆ 〉〉paras ;

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