HJ.

"You are a fugitive, but you don't know what you're running from." Hestia Jones. Herbologist. The Hierophant.

[jones--hestia]

a drink or ten

[mxrymxcdonald]

Mary laughed, her mood immeasurably better. Hestia always managed to make her feel good about herself and tonight was no exception. The girl was definitely an angel in disguise and she could only tighten her hold on the girl, not wanting to let go and absorb her positivity. If there was a time Mary needed it, it was right now. “Oh, those Chinese Chomping Cabbages,” she remarked with a hint of teasing in her voice, “You better make sure it doesn’t chomp up the rest of your plants or else we’ll have to look for another supplier of herbs.” She was joking, of course, knowing full well Hestia knew what she was doing. The older girl has always been quite brilliant, especially when it came to Herbology.

She sighed as the conversation returned back to her. “I knew  being a Healer was going to be difficult,” she answered with a shrug. “I knew what I was getting into and I love helping people, so I can’t complain.” It was the exhaustion Mary wasn’t quite prepared for as she found herself passing out the moment she got home and then waking up just to go to work again the next day, but she figured she’d get used to it eventually. Complaining, however, was never in Mary’s nature and she wasn’t about to start now.

“I’m thinking the Leaky Cauldron?” Mary suggested, turning left to the direction of the pub as it was the closest wizarding pub to them. “Besides, I think Tom fancies you quite a bit.”

[jones--hestia]

As soon as Hestia heard the faint sarcasm and the familiar sparkle in Mary’s eyes, she allowed her eyes to roll, her smile giving away her true emotions. She lifted her free hand towards her chest, faking a gasp as she turned dramatically to Mary. “Why my chomping cabbages are well trained, thank you.” she stated in a serious tone that soon broke to another. She didn’t mind if Mary messed with her. Afterall, she knew Mary acted with good intentions.

Hestia listened to her friend as they walked aimlessly, nodding every once in a while to encourage the girl. It was a hard job, that went without saying, and at times like this, it was even harder. She embraced the girl’s arm tighter against hers, hoping to be somewhat comforting. “That’s why we’re going out tonight. So you can rest and enjoy yourself for once.”

“That would be nice!” Hestia chimed. Despite it’s dimly lighted atmosphere, Hestia had always liked Leaky Cauldron. It was so easily accessible that it was almost impossible not to like it. “No, he does not!” Hestia protested, scrunching up her face. Mary was a master at making her feel odd. Especially when it came to guys. “He’s my friend!”

[dirk-crxsswxll-blog]

“Ah-okay.” he smiled back. “Herbology, interesting. I work for the ministry in the Goblin Liason office.” he was sure she’d probably smile to be polite. Working with Goblins wasn’t the most popular job in the world, nor did he look like the most manly man, but it was his passion and he was quite honest about it. “I um, I’m just wondering- how did you know who I was? I mean- nobody- nobody… really seems to recognize me from school.” he shrugged. He chewed on his lip nervously unsure why he actually asked her this question. 

[jones--hestia]

A long “ooooooh” came in response out of Hestia’s lips, nodding slowly as she tried to imagine that. She had never held a grudge against goblins, but their language was so hard to decipher for her that she thought it would be impossible for her to choose such a path. She was about to part her lips and tell him that before he spoke, catching her off guard.

It was a hard question for her, but only because the answer was so obvious. “Well, I mean, we were in the same house, and around, if not, the same age, so..” she said calmly, her voice getting quieter and quieter towards the end of her sentence. It felt more and more like he was uncomfortable by her mere existence, so she thought it was proper to make a little explanation. “I’m sorry if I bothered you or seemed creepy, it’s just,” she paused, searching for the right words before she went on, “good to see a familiar face, I guess.”

[carrow-metohell]

Amycus heard her stumble, falling backwards into something and smirked. She hadn’t fallen to the ground but that didn’t matter. He’d won. Or so he thought…

Amycus stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of her voice. Standing with his back to her, he tilted his head just enough so that he could hear her voice clearly. The book shop seemed to fall silent as a tense atmosphere overcame the room. Amycus was not renowned for his tranquillity. It was now a question of what he would do next.

“The likes of me will never fall.” He growled, balling his fists. Amycus could feel his nails digging into his palms, he was certain they would draw blood soon but he didn’t care. The rage that threatened to shake him to his core was spreading through his veins like wild fire. What Hestia didn’t know was that Amycus had already fallen. He’d taken a bad hit after the events of King’s Cross and was yet to recover. She was prodding an already raw wound.

Amycus spun on his heel, narrowing his eyes to glare at her. “Why don’t you say that to me outside, instead of hiding amongst these books.” Amycus’ voice rose in volume until he almost shouted the last word. A few books on the surrounding shelves were forced up into the air, blasted by his fraying control. Noting the wand in her hand he spread his arms wide, leaving his chest and torso completely exposed. “Come on then. You want a target, here I am.” Amycus was yelling at her now.

The owner of the book store seemed unsure as to what they could do. “Sir?” They offered in a meek voice. “You’re um. You’re disturbing some of the o-other patrons…” Amycus rounded on him, drawing his own wand in an instant. “Speak to me again and I’ll make sure you regret it worm.” He hissed, brandishing his wand as if it was a live snake.

[jones--hestia]

Hestia tightened her hand around her wand. Though her hand wasn’t in her vision, if she just lifted it to take a glance at it, she would see that her knuckles were bleach white. This was getting more serious by the minute, but she had no intention of backing down. “Yeah?” she asked, wetting her lips with her tongue as she steadied her feet on the ground, just in case he decided to do something stupid. Unaffected by the falling books, her previous word had been muttered in a calm voice, but the more she spoke, the more adamant her voice sounded, even to her own ears. “I’ll come outside. Are you in the mood to have some fun? Torture a Mud-blood? Kill them, maybe?” She spat her last sentence, taking an instinctive step towards him as she continued. “I’ll go outside. And you can do whatever you bloody want, but you’re the one who’s hiding behind the superiority nourished by your fucked up ideals of what “pure” means.”

She felt her blood rush to her head, feeling anger take over every inch of her being. How could he play the martyr, offering himself to her like he wasn’t the one possibly killing witches, wizards and Muggles alike. “Don’t confuse yourself with me. You bunch are the ones who hide behind Unforgivable Curses every time you feel like it.” By this point, she had lifted her wand, not pointing it to him, but rather showing it, holding it up in the air and staring at it for a few moments like she didn’t carry it in her pocket every day, before he turned back to him.  “I’d use it for defense. You would-you do use it to destroy.”

It all happened so fast after that, and “s t o p” was the first word that spilled out of her lips in a cry at the sight of an innocent wizard at wand point. She wouldn't let someone stay in that position because Amycus was pissed at her, and a fucking brat. She felt wrecked, she felt horrible, she felt atrocious. “Let him go.”

[mariaponceilustracion]

[jones--hestia]

Self portrait Hestia Jones - 1978

[thornygazelle-blog]

Dorcas watched her friends head move, and a small laugh escaped her. She figured Hestia would react this way, and it was amusing to watch. “We played cat and mouse, and he kissed me. For a full minute! It was perfect, Hes.”

[jones--hestia]

Hestia watched Dorcas’ face, hearing the excitement in her voice. Boy, was she happy. “It’s good to see you so happy, Dorcas.”

[jones--hestia]

a drink or ten

[mxrymxcdonald]

Hestia’s excitement was infectious and. when she pulled Mary into a hug, the blonde didn’t know how much she needed one until that moment. The exhaustion and worries started fading away and she felt herself feeling better already. Alas, the hug ended sooner than she wanted and she looked up to see the concern in her friend’s eyes. She probably looked a little a zombie, what with her lack of sleep and extra shifts at the hospital. “I’ve seen better days,” she replied with a shrug, not wanting to expand further and cause Hestia unnecessary worry for her.

“Anyway,” she continued, wanting to divert the subject to something lighter, “I haven’t talked to you in so long. I say we must not allow this to happen again.” Hooking her arm with the brunette’s, she directed her to the exit. “So, where to? I want to hear about all that you’ve been up to.”

[jones--hestia]

Hestia kept her eyes timidly on the other girl, taking a note of her successful attempt of keeping it together. How brave, she was. How big of a heart it would require to hold all that agony in? And here she was, making chit chat. Hestia laughed softly as she held embraced the girl’s arm for a few seconds before allowing them to lay limp, linked.

“No, we shall not. I’ve missed your pretty face way too much.” She took light but hurried steps towards the exit, taking a deep breath as they stepped outside. Not because she had been enjoying the fresh air, but because she wasn’t quite sure how to summarize her current life in a way that didn’t sound absolutely mundane. “There’s nothing you’ve missed. I’m just working a lot, spending most of my time by myself. But the Chinese chomping cabbages are coming out so nicely!” She held her breath for a moment in realization she had failed, she was quite mundane especially compared to Mary, who saved lives everyday. And what about you?”

[jones--hestia]

Hestia hadn’t been much of a drinker as she grew up. Sure, she drank it occasionally, and there had been nights which had ended with her not remembering half of it. Yet, alcohol had never been something she sought, up until recently. She liked to think she had all her vices under control, and yet lately she felt she needed alcohol more, and more, and more. 

She would take care of it. Just not tonight.

She made her way inside the pub. Lucky for her, it wasn’t half as full as it could have been, which meant she could relax, and perhaps see the bottom of a few glasses. She headed straight for the bar, slowly stripping her jacket off her shoulders as she got ready to sit down.

“Single bourbon, on ice.”

[dolohovx]

Rows upon rows of shelves— jars containing herbs, powders & parts of all sorts were stacked upon them. Antonin looked up in perusal, glancing over sacks of snake fangs & vials of salamander blood. His fingers brushed past the cold, glass jars and reached for a small box of bezoars. Yet the girl beside him had the same item in mind, and his hand bumped against hers in result.

He turned & faced the other— “Please, ladies first.” 

[jones--hestia]

There was something musky in the air, and Hestia loved that about the apothecary. Shelves upon shelves of discarded limbs and plants, and yet, she somehow felt like it wouldn’t have been complete without that hint of air that filled her lungs. She had been searching for some bezoars for her stock, and as soon as she saw them, she reached for the box. Someone else had the same intention too, and she felt a skin colder than she had ever felt touch against her own. She pulled her hand back instintively, before her eyes found the owner of the hand. Tall, a little brood, yet polite.

She looked at the guy for a few seconds before she reached out for the box. It always bothered her when someone said that, l a d i e s f i r s t. It made her feel like that was the only reason for the gesture, as if her being a naturally born woman was a legitimate reason for someone to show her kindess. Nevertheless, she spoke with her voice bearing no traces of emotion. “Thank you.”

[jones--hestia]

a drink or ten

[mxrymxcdonald]

It had been a long day at St. Mungo’s. It’s been only a few days since the attack on King’s Cross and there was a tenseness in the air since that awful day. They had attacked a muggle station with muggles and wizards murdered and injured at broad daylight. Each employee at the Hospital was holding their breath, preparing themselves for the next attack, because when they could attack a place so public with no fear of being arrested or found out, who knew what could happen next. After doing her last rounds and making sure everything was in place for the Healer or Trainee who was taking over her shift, she gathered her things and headed on her way.

”Bye, Martha.” She flashed the Welcome Witch behind the reception desk a small smile as she looked around the waiting area and finally spotted the familiar face she was searching for. She was glad they had made plans tonight. This way, she didn ’t have to come home to her empty apartment and have the gravity of the recent happenings weigh her down like its done the past few nights.

Hestia has always been someone she had looked up to, even in their Hogwarts years. Though she was only two years older than her, she looked to the girl for advice and felt she could talk to her without fear of being judged or criticized. “Sorry to have kept waiting, Hes. Busy day here at Mungo’s,” she apologised as she approached the brunette. “We picked the perfect night, by the way. I am in need of a drink.”

[jones--hestia]

Hestia had been waiting for a while now, but she couldn’t possibly blame her friend. She knew that with the recent attack, the hospital had double the work in their hands, and Mary was no exception. When she finally saw Mary walk down the hall, Hestia stood up from the seat she had been attached to, a wide smile on her face. She had really missed Mary and she was always happy to see Mary, no matter what the circumstances were.

“It’s been so long,” she barely made out as she enguled the other girl in a hug, pulling her to herself. She quickly let go, still smiling as she observed Mary’s face. She was beautiful as ever, but there were signs of very little sleep and lots of anxiety. Hestia’s giant grin subsided to a smaller one that was still warm, but it radiated sympathy. “Bad day?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed a little against her will. “It’s busier than ever here, isn’t it?”

[fprewetts]

“Of course, I make sense! We do live in a world where so much adventure is to be found. Why read about going off to ride a dragon when you could actually ride a dragon? …Other than, y'know, they could burn you to a bloody crisp.” “Eh.. maybe, but I’ve never been able to sit still for too long.”

[jones--hestia]

“Yes, because the possibility of being burned like a giant bacon is definitely worth the memories you’ll make.”

“I know all about that. Gideon had made that very clear.”

[dirk-crxsswxll-blog]

Dirk was slowly feeling his pulse ease, his heart rate slow. He was still tense at all get out, but it was better for him. It was often hard being so introverted. People didn’t understand why he shied away from the public eye. He rarely went to work parties, hell, he rarely went any where that had a crowd… Social Anxiety really was a pain.

Dirk listened to all the footsteps around him. There were more than what was usually comfortable for him. He could feel his heart start to race again and he tried to calm himself down. He heard words come out of Hestia’s mouth and he was glad he had actually caught them. He was surely embarrassing himself here. He had wished for someone to kill him at that moment.

“Just a check up, How…How about you?”

[jones--hestia]

Hestia watched the young man, and to be frank, he looked a little on edge again, a little nervous. Had she sounded hostile? Had she sounded intrusive? She did not know, but the last thing she wanted to do was to scare him away.

“Well,” she started, a big smile on her face she hoped could show her good intensions and, well, that she was literally as threatening as a pink butterfly on a marshmellow. “I became a Herbologist, and I bring the produce here every once in a while. They pay well and it’s a safe job, so it’s pretty much perfect.” After she had finished talking, she realized she had given way too much information he probably didn’t care about. Nevertheless, she kept her composure, pausing for a second before she spoke again with a small tilt of her head. “What do you do?”

[jones--hestia]

→ ORIGINS & FAMILY:

Name: Hestia Jones Nickname: Hes or Hesty, but she hates the second one because it “sounds like a name for an owl.” Reason for name: Named after the Greek goddess for domesticity and family life. Birthday: 15th of May, 1957 Age: 20, about to be 21 Place of birth: Bristol, United Kingdom  Places lived since: Bristol, Hogwarts, London Parents’ names, backgrounds, occupations: Eileen nee Dowson, witch, previously a curse breaker at Gringotts, house wife. Paul Jones, muggle, businessman. Number of siblings: None Relationship with family: Hestia has no apparent problems with her family, visiting them occasionally. Nevertheless, she could not possibly feel close to them as much as she would like to. The worlds they live in are at complete different states and Hestia especially feels distanced from her mother for choosing to turn her back to the Wizarding World. First sign of magic: Saving a little drowning salamander from a puddle of water by levitating it. Children of his/her own?: Not yet!

→ PHYSICAL

Height: 5’ 7¼" (1.71 m) Weight: 125.628 lbs (57 kg) Build: Slender, fragile looking but straight posture Nationality: English Complexion: Glowing pale skin with faint freckles, mostly visible on her shoulders and around her nose. She has a faint scar on her arm from an unlucky encounter with a Venomous Tentacula in her Sixth Year. Distinguishing facial features: Eyes Usual hair style: Hestia’s hair is usually let down, parted from the side or the middle,  free to move however it pleased. When doing work, she pulls it out of her way with a pony tail or half up-do. Eye color: Hazel, mostly green Hair color: Light brown Style of dress/typical outfit(s): Simple is the keyword. When going out, she mostly wears a plain robe, but when by her own or with close friends, she wears Muggle clothes as a habbit from her childhood. Her mostly worn articles of clothing are jeans, skirts, plain tops, loose knitted sweaters, blouses and flowy dresses on special occasions. Typical style of shoes: Sneakers, brown/black lace up boots, low heeled shoes, sandals for hot days Jewelry? Tattoos? Piercings?: Hestia wears very moderate jewelry, usually only wearing a tiny silver locket. She has no piercings but a salamander tattooed on her foot as an homage to the one she saved as a child. Unique mannerisms/physical habits: Talks with hands and fiddles with her fingers when she’s anxious

→ INTELLECT, RELATIONSHIPS & MORE

Profession: Herbologist Gifts/talents: Herbology and Potions, defense spells. Quick on her feet, good at comforting people, resilient, observant. Shortcomings: Self-disparaging, mostly unable to share her feelings. Hard time producing a Patronus. Makes decisions based mostly on emotions, or on logic?: Mostly on logic but she tends to slip occasionally. Cautious or daring?: Cautious. Extrovert or introvert?: Introvert. Level of comfort with technology: Better than most wizards but not really fantastic. Current marital/relationship status: Single Sexual orientation: Bisexual & panromantic Past relationships: A few short relationships during and after her school years, but nothing very significant. A social person?: Makes few friends but keeps them extremely close. Hobbies: Reading, walking, listening to records Phobias: Fire. Greatest fears: Her family getting hurt. What he/she most wants to change about his/her physical appearance: She wishes she looked more threatening, and less like she could break in half with a single push. Night owl or early bird?: Night owl Coffee or tea?:  Coffee Lefty or righty?: Righty Organised or messy?: Organised.. In her own way. Cusser?: When it’s necessary. Smoker? Drinker? Drug user?: Social drinker, rarely smokes cigarettes, has smoked other things moderately.

[unabridgedwords]

Having a soft heart in a cruel world is courage, not weakness.

Katherine Henson (via kvtes)

[carrow-metohell]

At least the girl seemed somewhat put off now. She’d lost her fiesty glow. Amycus was bordering on thinking that he had won this little exchange.

Amycus watched her pick up the book. Her actions were slow and purposeful. Time was ticking and he had to make a decision fast. What was he going to do? Kings Cross had been a disaster for him. An event his pride was still damaged from. If he was honest, he’d lost more than his pride that day. Clenching his jaw, Amycus saw her return the book to where she had orginially put it.

Tortorous seconds ticked by and he felt his mouth dry. He couldn’t do anthing too bold in such a public setting but- well, that was when she moved to the side. Amycus smirked at the small victory, relief coursing through his body. He stepped forwards, ready to move past her when she spoke again. Amycus clenched his fists, the temptation to strike her crackling through his bones. Amycus growled, lashing out with a flat palm. He shoved her roughly in the chest, hoping to knock her backwards into a display case of books even though she had moved for him. He marched past her, spitting at her feet. “I’m above you.” He stated, the comment seemingly flung in her direction.

Amycus expected it would be best for him to leave the store now. He was sure his mother could do without the book for now. Perhaps he would tell her it was not in stock. He stood a few steps away from Hestia, certain she would not try and follow him or even complain. Amycus truly underestimated his opposition. If that was not to be his downfall, there was an entire list of things that could be.

[jones--hestia]

Startled, Hestia pulled back a little at the sight of his hand moving her way. Luckily, instead of being pushed into something she could knock down, which was obviously the initial purpose of his shove, she only stumbled behind. After the first shock, anger washed over her, slowly, and then all at once. This little blood purist, this spoiled brat thought he ruled the world and whatever the cost, Hestia wasn’t going to let him get with it. The spit was the last straw. The longer he looked at him, the more she felt her initial anger dissipate, turn and shift inside her veins until it was as if she had liquid courage flowing through her body with the blood that had been a burden to her her entire life. Maybe she couldn’t do anything now, maybe she had to let this one get away. It didn’t matter. Not in the long run. That moment, she knew that something had changed inside her. The small part in her that kept her from taking a bold side and forced her to stay neutral had started to wither.

Hestia watched the man walk away, clenching one fist around her own palm and the other around her wand, her chest heaving up and down as she swallowed. No matter how hectic she was inside, she had to be calm. Like a hurricane inside-out. “There will come a time,” she said, in a voice that was serene but loud enough for him to hear. “where the likes of you will fall. There will come a time where you won’t be able to get the things you want by throwing a temper tantrum.” She was staring at the back of his head now, and if looks were as deadly as The Killing Curse, he’d be a corpse. “And I’ll be there to see it.”

[carrow-metohell]

“Anyone to point out the obvious?” Amycus asked, recoiling from the girl as if she had some form of plague. “You’re one of them aren’t you?” His tone registered alarm and disgust. It wouldn’t do for Amycus to be seen fraternising with a muggleborn witch in the middle of diagon alley after what happened at King’s Cross.

In all honesty, he wasn’t entirely sure who this girl was. He recognised her from Hogwarts, but not much more than a faint recollection of passing her along the corridor now and again. What he did know was that he needed to regain control of the situation. Gritting his teeth Amycus stepped towards her, knocking the book she had placed on the shelf to the floor. “Move or be moved.” He spat, glaring at her.

[jones--hestia]

It was hard for Hestia to keep a straight face now, at least, harder. She knew –especially with the recent events– that she wasn't welcomed by everyone in the wizarding community. It had never been so, either way, and she had faced prejudice and sneers for her blood-status. Though she knew how to handle it, or in some cases just shake it off, it seemed that every time this topic was brought up, something tiny tore in her. She remembered her muggle school subjects well enough to know that essentially a Muggle and a wizard were the same species, human, flesh to the bone. So, technically, there was no foundation to blood-supremacy, and yet it was so widespread. She couldn't understand it and that was the most bothering part about it all.

Well, along with the exponentially increasing possibility of being executed by some crazy blood-purist.

Hestia almost smiled at his exaggerated move, taking her sweet time as she knelt down and picked the book up. After placing it where he had knocked it off of, she rose onto her straight posture again, observing the sharp face standing before her, her eyebrows cocked to an angle. Her face read nothing but curiosity and defiance, she was sure. She stood immobile for a few long seconds before slowly pulling towards the side, enough so that he could pass through to – well, wherever the fuck he wanted to move. "Are you sure you want to get this close to me?" she asked with a slightly sarcastic tone, tilting her head towards the side before her voice dropped to a whisper, as if she was sharing her dearest secret with him. "I hear it's contagious."

[astridbergesfrisbeymania]

[carrow-metohell]

Amycus watched Hestia free her arms by placing her book on the side. Her fingers flexed against her pockets, presumably feeling for her wand. Interesting, he thought observing her silently. He rose his eyes from her delicate hands, matching her gaze “delusional?” He questioned, the word tasted foul. Amycus Carrow was certainly not a delusional man. Anyone who believed that must be an utter fool. His nostrils flared as she spoke again.

“Who exactly do you think you are?” He asked simply, stepping forwards. “Because you seem to be the only delusional one here if you think you can speak to me in such a dismissive manner.”

[jones--hestia]

Hestia watched the second shift in the guy's face since they had started speaking, and this one was much more intense, but somehow, instead of feeling on the edge, she felt at ease. There was no possible way this man was going to strike her in the middle of a bloody bookstore. And anything he could do, she wasn't afraid of. A part of her thought he’d have already attacked, and if he hadn’t, there was no danger. It was kind of amusing, the way he seemed to perpetuate the ongoing verbal battle between them. She felt the corners of her lips curl up but surely against her will, before it disappeared as quick as it had appeared across her face.

"I don't have to think I'm anyone to point out the obvious." Hestia had purposely avoided giving her name. For one, this man certainly didn't need to know it, two, she did not know what he could do with it. Pricks like him always had ties to the ministry, and she wasn't keen on having some officers lock her up for whatever reason they could come up with. By now, she could feel the adrenaline rushing in her ears, still not threatened as much as she should be, oddly. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking straight at him.