Take It In

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.

[mugglelcver-blog]

"What are you afraid of?"

Arthur hated the times that Rodolphus came by his office just to ask him dumb yet unsettling questions such as this one. “ Not getting all my work done, ” he sighed as he signed something and filed something else. “ How about you? ” Remember: if you don’t give in to the bullying, they will get bored of you.

[mugglelcver-blog]

"Just let me die."

The offer was tempting, but no, Arthur couldn’t willfully allow someone to die, just as he wasn’t going to kill someone. “ No, now come on, and stop whining. ”

[refiningfire]

i’m always fine

11/7/15

[mugglelcver-blog]

"I need a hug."

Arthur extended his arms and let Alice fall against his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut. “ I think we all do. ”

[mugglelcver-blog]

ALASTOR

date: august 20th, 1979 location: the burrow availability: closed to @mugglelcver

There was no mistaking the hint of sorrow that lingered within and all around the Burrow. Upon arriving on his broomstick, Alastor had immediately taken note of the unnatural stillness that surrounded the large house–even the farm animals were quiet. And it was no different once he actually stepped inside the house where they ought to have their upcoming Order meeting; there was no one in the immediate vicinity–although there were people in other areas of the house from what his magical eye could gather–and the only sounds he could hear were those of the dishes washing themselves in the sink and the occasional tick-tocking of the renowned Weasley Clock. Cracking the muscles of his neck in one quick move, Alastor shrugged off the tension, steeled himself against it and proceeded to venture deeper into the house, idly greeting the Order members he came across as he did. Walking into the kitchen, Alastor was surprised to see Arthur there and not Molly like he had expected. He felt absently thankful for that; it would be much easier to offer his condolences to Arthur rather than Molly since the man would probably be a lot less expressive in his grief and would spare Alastor from having to offer emotional support as the situation would warrant. However, there as no way of telling how Arthur was coping. He and his wife had lost one of their children; Alastor couldn’t even begin to imagine what their family was going through. He was mildly surprised that they were still willing to host Order meetings in their house.

Walking up to the kitchen’s bar, the heavy steps of his boots announcing his presence, Alastor placed his elbows atop it and leaned against it, contemplating how he ought to begin.Shit. “Arthur,” He grunted, nodding once the man acknowledged his arrival. Alastor reached up and scratched at the scruff on his cheeks, at a loss for words. “Words don’t mean shit in situations like this but…I offer you and Molly my condolences on your loss.”

Arthur believed that the best way to move on from problems and loss was to continue on. You shouldn’t ignore the problem by any means, but you should always keep going. Whenever you allowed anything to slow you down, the other side has already won, so you had to persist. If he’d learned anything from what was going on, it was that.

He was still insisting on getting everything done, waving his wand to fill glasses and make sure there was enough to eat and cleaning anything that had to be cleaned. He tried to usher the boys to their rooms before the meeting began, but at the moment Bill and Charlie were talking to Edgar and Kingsley, telling them interesting facts about dragons or whatever they were reading at the moment. Now that he saw how hard it was to do all this and keep your head straight, he somehow found that he appreciated Molly even more; if that were possible. He spun around as Alastor made his presence known, and nodded, rubbing his forehead a bit. “ Words mean more that you think, Alastor. Thank you. ” He truly did appreciate the sympathy and support being shown to him and Molly at this time, and knew that while words didn’t technically do anything, that the feeling behind them and way they were expressed meant something. So while Moody being sorry didn’t bring anyone back, the support that the words expressed could be proven when it mattered.

[mugglelcver-blog]

FRANK

date: august 15th, 1979 time: 9:01 AM location: st. mungo’s status: open

♠ ̖́- — These last few weeks have been nothing short of a complete and utter mess. The days they spent trapped in almost complete darkness mingled together. It was hard to try and figure out the days they missed, the time that was spent down there. And honestly, Frank just wanted to get right back into things. He needed to dive into his work, to forget what occurred. But despite his request, he still hasn’t gotten a single paperwork thrown in his direction, and he is certain that it has been piling up since he’s been unavailable. Something about ‘ taking it easy ’ and ‘ not to worry about it ’ and yet, here is Frank. Not taking anything easy and certainly worrying. Okay, his worrying is directed more towards the other hostages and how they were doing… and of Meadowes. Either way, he needed to get something done before he started losing his mind in here. Frank didn’t look up at his visitor as he spoke, “ Please tell me you brought me some work.”  

Arthur could understand Frank’s request. Of course, he couldn’t understand his position entirely, being that he’d never been kidnapped and tortured, but he could understand wanting to dive straight back into work to get your mind off of things, as well as not wanting to get behind on work in fear of being swamped later on. Arthur himself had enough on his hands, not having been at work for almost the entirety of two weeks, and his vacation days were adding up. He did have others in his office sending him some of the more important things by owl, but eventually he would have to return to a desk that would guarantee him more than a handful of late nights. He gave Frank a somewhat apologetic smile as he sat down on a chair next to his bed, and sighed as he shook his head. “ Haven’t been to the office myself in far too long. Next time I’m there, I can pick something up for you too though. ”

[mugglelcver-blog]

EDGAR

date: August 12th location: The Burrow availability: closed to @mugglelcver

Step One: Fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination.

The burrow, the burrow, the burrow… he rehearses the word in his mind over and over; a mantra of desperation.

He remembers the lessons taught long ago. He had been all of seventeen years old, shifting foot to foot, attempting to stay warm enough to pay attention as their professor insisted, once again, that they should never attempt to apparate while distracted, because it could lead to catastrophic results.

Edgar—logical, sensible, responsible Edgar Bones—pays no heed to the consequences as he decides getting to Arthur as quickly as possible is worth any price he has to pay.

Step Two: Focus your determination to occupy the visualized space. Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every participle of your body.

This is where Edgar struggles the most. He doesn’t know how to do this. Doesn’t know how to visualize a version of the burrow where Molly isn’t there. Doesn’t yearn for any version of the reality that they are now living in. He forces himself to do it anyway. He has to. Arthur needs to know.

Step Three: Turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation.

Edgar’s aim is off; he had attempted to appear outside the front door, but he’s instead intrusively ended up within the foyer of the Weasley’s compact home. Though given how high a possibility splinching was, he finds himself very lucky.

The faint pop of Edgar’s entrance brings Arthur wheeling around the corner “Arthur—” Edgar starts immediately, nearly breathless, emotions leaking from every pore, only to sharply cut off his own words as he catches sight of Charlie, just steps behind his father. In the blink of an eye Edgar’s entire demeanor has changed, tucking his nerves carefully away. Arthur is going to have enough to deal with without his children being sent into a frenzy. “I’m so glad I caught you here.” Edgar starts again, twisting a tone of anxiety into eagerness, “I was just with Molly. She was hanging out at my work, and she reminded me how long it’s been since you and I have hung out.” Edgar turned his attention away from Arthur, smiling down at Charlie. “Hello, Charlie. Can I borrow your dad real quick? Then after that maybe you can show me your dragon collection—I hear you finally found a Hungarian horntail.” 

Part of Arthur’s parenting skills were actually developed when he was just growing up. Arthur realized early on that when he seemed sad, it made other people sad too, so he decided that he would try not to really seem sad. Part of it was easy: he was naturally optimistic and lacked a melancholic disposition, so he didn’t normally get that sad. But then the other part of the time, he decided that he would hide it, not let anyone really catch on to how he was feeling. This worked quite well when he was told not to return to the Ministry because people were attacking it and he had to hide the fact that he was terrified for the safety of his boys’ mommy.

He played with them, put Percy down for a nap, and entertained Bill and Charlie with snacks from the cupboard and pulling out a board game that they wouldn’t attack each other over. He waited for updates, and received a few, mostly from Kingsley when he wasn’t busy protecting people, but nothing about Molly. And she was late. 

He left the children to check on the clock every ten minutes or so, and each time it just told him that she was in danger. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t go check where she was going to be without taking the children with him, and he couldn’t take the children out when it was obviously just going to put them all in danger. So he waited, anxiously, to hear something, anything about his wife, and feigned a smile whenever his boys looked at him.

At the sound of a pop, he grabbed his wand. There were protection spells placed on the house, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t be ready for anything. He raised his wand as he turned the corner, then relaxed upon seeing Edgar, his good friend... The one that worked at St. Mungos, the hospital. He stiffened again, then nodded at Charlie, only realizing he was there. “ Yes, go get your toy to show Edgar, okay? ”

He approached his friend and waved his wand, casting a spell to keep the conversation between their ears only. He needed to hear what he needed to hear, but he’d be damned if the kids had to hear it at the same time. He drew his eyebrows together as he exhaled the question, “ What happened to Molly? ”

[mugglelcver-blog]

REMUS

It was said that the most beautiful people were those who had known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss and found their way out of the depths. These people had an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that filled them with compassion, gentleness and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people did not just happen. Though Remus felt little of himself in that regard he knew that many people that he considered beautiful. He knew people that should have portraits, novels, poetry or any artistic medium to convey even the smallest measure of their beauty and kindness. However, there were some whose goodness could never be conveyed by even the most smitten of artists. Art, after all was something special that was often under appreciated, but essential to the soul.

It wasn’t that there were not other wizards and witches with flaming red hair, but it was hard to mistake the Weasley family for anyone else. Ministry of Magic employee Arthur Weasley was a kind wizard, one who like most art seemed under appreciated among his peers. He had been introduced to the man through James Potter on one of his prior visits to the Ministry. If he remembered correctly, which he normally did, Mr. Weasley worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Though people thought that this was the most boring division of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, it did serve an important purpose. It regulated the use of magic on Muggle objects and tried to keep items that had been bewitched away from Muggles.

Arthur found Muggles to be quite fascinating. When he had learned that Remus had grown up as a halfblood with a muggle mother he had had quite a different reaction than may of the other purebloods Remus had met. He had been delighted, shook his hand a little too tightly and then began asking him all sorts of questions. Remus had answered them in stride, though some things could not be explained with simple answers. At the time of their first meeting it had seemed that Arthur was keen on muggle transportation, cars to be more precise. However, Remus had to leave his disappointed on that account, because he did not know much about the inner workings of a motorized vehicles.

It seemed that Mr. Weasley, a man nine years his senior, was having trouble placing him. Remus did not feel offended by this. Considering that Mr. Weasley worked in a position where he met people day in and day out, it was all too certain that he would forget a face he had only met once. Besides the young werewolf did not think that he had a face worth remembering to begin with. When he thanked him for his answer and then left a space open, Remus filled it gladly. “Remus Lupin. I imagine you remember my friend James Potter much better, but I don’t fault you. I have a face worth forgetting.” He added on a laugh.

“But it is quite a pleasure to see you again Mr. Weasley.” He held out his hand so that they could shake on it and forget the slight all together. “You haven’t seen him by chance have you? James, I mean.”

Arthur couldn’t deny that he was now embarrassed. Not only had it been confirmed that he had met the boy before, and actually had been more than just introduced, but Remus remembered his name and even blamed himself before faulting Arthur for the error. Arthur shook his head, folded the newspaper, and decided to give his full attention to Remus. This way, he’d have to be obliviated to forget him.

“ Remus! Of course! ” He touched a hand to his forehead and shook his head again. “Your father works here and your mother is a muggle,” he gave him a soft but stern look, one that he would sometimes give his children. “ Now, now, I did remember you face, just not the name. A lot of things on the mind at the moment, as I’m sure you can relate to. ”

He took Remus’s hand with both of his and gave it a quick shake, the wrinkles around his eyes growing deeper as he smiled; an action he obviously did quite a lot if crows feet were already forming. 

Since he was obviously in a hurry, and since Arthur was in a bit of a hurry himself, he wasn’t going to bore Remus or prod him with questions as he did the last time they met. He supposed he’d have to wait to see if Remus had any update on the cars at a later time, though it was a shame that they couldn’t get to talking now. It was probably for the better though, and Arthur stood after he dropped the boy’s hand. 

“ James? Huh, ” he exhaled to himself and pursed his lips. When was the last time he saw James? He didn’t believe that it was today, but it may have been yesterday or the day before. It seemed like too long since they had an actual conversation, but he knew that he saw him in passing fairly recently. Not that information from a few days ago would help Remus find his friend right now.

Arthur shook his head quickly. “ I haven’t seen James today. But I did see Sirius Black not too long ago! ” His memory did do something good today, at least, and he smiled once more. “ And you know how it is with those two; wherever one is, the other isn’t far behind. ”

[mugglelcver-blog]

After The Storm

[mugglelcver-blog]

MOLLY

 molly had always loathed the feeling of imminent war that spread across the wizarding world. she hated what it meant, she hated the consequences it would eventually bring. she hated how war always took over and over again. it had taken so much already and it seemed as if it would only take more. truth be said, molly hadn’t cared that much about voldemort and his followers until the order got together – and she had to watch her baby brothers and husband getting ready to fight. it only got worse after the attack at the ministry, the one that still kept baby percy up at night. and now? now molly had been on the other side of the wand – the helpless victim who couldn’t take care of herself.

 it all happened so fast. one moment she was kissing arthur and the boys goodbye to have a day to herself – something that hadn’t quite gotten the chance to enjoy in so long and was desperately in need of. but then, the next moment, she was being used as a shield to protect daisy hookum from a masked person. molly had no regrets, she would always rather get hurt herself than watch someone else be in pain. but she felt so weak and useless. yet again she had failed to protect those she loved most. like she failed her brother-in-law, like she failed percy – and now she had failed their baby.

  emerald eyes fell shut at the mere thought of their child, fingers stroking her belly instinctively. molly could barely believe it – their baby was gone. it had been a rough couple of days, to say the least. she had been trying to go back to normal and be there for arthur and their sons, but it was too hard. molly was grateful that her husband had taken time away from work to be at home because she truly didn’t know what she would do without him. the thought of taking care of the boys when her entire body hurt was too much.

 she tried, of course. molly forced herself to smile and play with the boys so they wouldn’t know what was happening. she tried keeping appearances and pretending she was okay so they wouldn’t worry too much. the redhead got out of bed and baked them their favorite sweets so they wouldn’t feel her absence too much and so they would know she still cared about them. but the light in her eyes was gone – anyone could see that. and the woman didn’t quite know how to move on from losing her child.

 it also didn’t help that frank was still a hostage. aside from arthur and her brothers, frank longbottom had been a part of molly’s life – he was her best friend. she could not quite imagine herself moving on without him. more than that, she didn’t know just how she would feel if she lost someone else. as the days went by, the woman grew more and more certain that she had lost him – as well as amelia, remus, gilderoy and dorcas, even andromeda black. voldemort was slowly succeeding in his mission – taking away the light of the world. he and his followers had taken it from molly’s heart, what would be next?

  the woman didn’t move once she heard arthur walking into the room, empty gaze focusing on the wall as she kept on stroking her belly. it was almost automatic now, how she would keep on protecting it – as if there was still something, someone to protect. his words, however, brought her eyes to his figure. “what happened?” molly asked, sitting up so she could face him properly. “is everyone okay? did they make it out? amelia, andromeda, remus, gilderoy, dorcas – frank?” the woman added, her voice cracking at the mention of her dear friend.

Molly had been through too much. Not more than she could handle, because she could handle anything, Arthur was completely sure, but more than anyone should have to handle. And why? For what reason did the kindest, most beautiful, perfect woman on earth have to go through half of what Molly had been through? Arthur didn’t understand, and he didn’t like it, not at all.

Arthur could tell that when she was with the boys now that something was off, that it was painful to even see them when she’d lost what could be another one of them. And he could also tell that it hurt her to be this way. He tried to encourage her, to let her know that it was alright, that it was fine to grieve and be off and it wouldn’t affect the children, that he could convince them that mommy needs her alone time. But it didn’t help, and how could it? He was mourning too, but he couldn’t imagine what it was like for her.

Arthur was a capable man, and Molly knew that, but he also understood that cooking and cleaning and helping the boys was something that she wanted to do in order to feel normal, so he let her do those things, and just offered a helping hand. Sometimes, you have to realize that being there for someone doesn’t mean forcing them not to do any work whatsoever, but it means that you have to let them decide what they are capable of, and let them know when you think that it may be too much.

He could tell that she was off because of Frank, and because of everyone else, but mostly her dear friend, which was understandable, completely. So he began with that, finally looking back at Molly instead of just at the wall. His eyes softened when they met hers, but he had to force himself to stay composed for her. “ Frank made it out. He’s a bit banged up- ” don’t say tortured, “ but he made it out. ”

Now came the hard part. While Molly wasn’t nearly as close with Dorcas as she was with Frank, it was so hard to actually get the words out, to say aloud what happened. He’d soften it, he wouldn’t mention that her body had been mutilated, that they were unable to recognize who it was until they got close. He tried to give her a sanitized version, for her sake, but couldn’t get any words out at all, and looked away.

He folded the letter and put it in his pocket, didn’t want her reading it over his shoulder, and so he took a deep breath and tried to do it again, to say something, to make it better for her. “ It’s just... ” He closed his eyes. He had to do this, and it was better to get it out all at once than to leave her dangling. He looked back at her. “ Honey, Dorcas... She didn’t make it. ”

[mugglelcver-blog]

All the starter sentences I could find, alphabetized.

"Are you crazy?”

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Are you even listening to yourself?"

"Are you sure they won’t find out?”

"Are you sure this is legal?”

"Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

"Are you threatening me?"

"Be mine."

"Do I know you?"

"Do you love me?"

"Do you remember this?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Don’t go."

"Don’t let me die"

"Don’t look at me like that."

"Don’t make me beg.”

"Don’t you dare come near me!"

"Don’t you dare."

"Explain yourself."

"For you, I would _____"

"Give it back."

"Give me another chance."

"Have you ever even done this before?"

"How drunk are you right now?"

"I already regret this."

"I am not wearing that.”

"I can’t believe you missed that."

"I can’t do this anymore."

"I can’t even look at you."

"I could kill you!"

"I dare you." or "I dare you to _____."

"I didn’t do it.""

"I didn’t know you could do that."

"I don’t want to look at you right now.”

"I guess this is goodbye.”

"I hate you."

"I have to go."

"I just want to cuddle."

"I know your secret.”

"I love you, but I really wish I didn’t.”

"I love you."

"I miss you so very much."

"I missed you."

"I need a drink."

"I need a hug."

"I never really loved you."

"I owe you."

"I think I broke it."

"I think I’m falling in love with you. "

"I think I’m forgetting something."

"I think it’s broken.”

"I trust you."

"I want to be yours."

"I want to try this thing I read in a book.”

"I want you. Naked. In my bed. Now."

"I’ll be there in five minutes.”

”This is really inappropriate.”

"I’m all for spicing thing’s up, but isn’t this a bit much?”

"I’m bad for you.”

"I’m dying."

"I’m going to be sick."

"I’m not speaking to you anymore."

"I’m pregnant and it’s yours."

"I’ve never heard that one before."

"If you stay quiet, no one will know.”

"Is that my shirt?"

"It was me"

"It’s so beautiful.”

"It’s time to choose.”

"Just five more minutes."

"Just go."

"Just leave me alone."

"Just let me die."

"Just relax."

"Just what did we do last night?"

"Kiss me you idiot."

"Kiss me."

"Make me."

"Marry me?"

"My Parents don’t know"

"My parents know.""

"Never again."

"Nh, don’t be so rough!"

"No, that can’t be my baby."

"No! You can’t die on me now!"

"Put it away.”

"Put your trousers on!"

"Put. The. Weapon. Down."

"Shut up and listen."

"Take responsibility."

"That isn’t mine."

"That looked easier on TV."

"That sounds painful."

"That was a bad plan."

"That’s mine!”

"That’s the cheesiest pickup line I’ve ever heard."

"They’re coming.”

"This seems familiar."

"This stays between us."

"Truth hurts, don’t it?"

"Want to hear a secret?"

"We need to talk."

"We’re moving too fast.”

"Well that was unexpected."

"What are we doing here?"

"What are you afraid of?"

"What are you touching?"

"What are you?"

"What do you need?"

"What happened to you?"

"What have I done this time?"

"What if someone catches us?”

"What sort of noise was that?”

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

"What were you thinking?"

"Where are my clothes?"

"Where did you find this?"

"Where do you even find this sort of thing?”

"Where were you?"

"Who’d have guessed you could pull such a face?”

"Why are you wearing that?"

"Why yes, I am as think as you drunk I am."

"You could have died!”

"You could have killed someone!"

"You coward."

"You don’t need to be so gentle.”

"You drive me crazy!"

"You have ten minutes, so make it quick.”

"You lied to me!"

"You mean everything to me."

"You owe me."

"You. Come. Snuggle. NOW!"

"You’re all out of ____."

"You’re an idiot.”

"You’re bad for me.”

"You’re dead to me."

"You’re pregnant and It’s mine"

"You’re really good at this…”

"You’re so weird.""

"You’re under arrest."

[mugglelcver-blog]

After The Storm

date: august 12th, 1979 location: the burrow status: closed for @momweasley​

Molly had been attacked.

She wasn’t one of the ones taken, thank God, thank Everything, but she had been used as what was basically a body shield, which wasn’t much better, and wasn’t good at all. But she was here, she was in the next room, she hadn’t been taken, and for that, Arthur had to be at least somewhat thankful.

It wasn’t as though he had very much to be thankful for, however. People actually had been taken, by an organization meant to instill fear on others, by people who had worn masks because they were too cowardly to show themselves. There’d been people taken from the Order, and then there were people who didn’t even have a place in the war, not that anyone did.

If Arthur could find just one of the people responsible, he wouldn’t be sure if he could stop himself from being just as bad as they, but he hadn’t found any of them. He’d been home, taking care of the children as Molly rested, taking care of Molly and making sure she didn’t get up, making sure she didn’t strain herself. There were a lot of “No, Molly”’s and “Please, Molly”’s, and “Trust me, Molly”’s. He just wanted to be there for her, took the majority of two weeks off of work to just be there for her. All he wanted was to know that she was safe, and that she was home.

Arthur wasn’t dumb enough to think that it was his fault. It was the fault of the person that attacked her, obviously. That didn’t stop him from replaying the events prior to her capture over again in his head. Maybe if he had stayed at work and not gone home for his break, not told Molly that he’d watch the kids while she went out, maybe she wouldn’t have been attacked. Maybe he could’ve been at the ministry during the attacks, been able to protect the people there. Maybe that would have been enough to protect the baby. Stopped Molly from... From what happened.

He and Molly had put the boys to bed a few hours ago, and Arthur had practically forced Molly to go and rest when he’d gotten the news. His stomach dropped as he scanned the letter. Hostages returned - good, torture - bad, scars - bad, someone dead - . He saw who it was and yet couldn’t look. He didn’t want to confirm. Anyone would be a tragedy, but somehow, somehow this was like some sort of light turning off completely. Something in Arthur just... shut off. And it was fitting, because without Dorcas Meadowes, the world was a darker place.

Arthur didn’t know what to do. Well, he did know what he had to do, but he still didn’t know how to do it. Molly, how was he going to tell Molly? He couldn’t wait until morning for this, but he didn’t want to wake her up and tell her... Arthur was unfortunately getting used to being the barer of bad news, could be the shoulder to cry on, but... how, how was he going to do this?

He walked into the bedroom, letter still in his hand, and took a seat on his bed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then finally looked to where his wife was lying in their bed. “ Molly, ” his voice was thick, despite the fact that he hadn’t cried. He hadn’t done anything, he’d just come to Molly. Maybe if he just focused on her he could get through this. “ We have news on the hostages. ”

[mugglelcver-blog]

LUCINDA

It wasn’t quite quidditch season if she wasn’t being threatened with sanctions.

The annual trip to the Department of Magical Games and Sports was now more so a social call than a pressing concern for Lucinda, who had come to rather enjoy her visits with Hamish MacFarlan. The former quidditch player turned department head had long since resigned himself to the fact that a Falcon can never be reasoned with, much less convinced to file down their talons. Instead, he’d serenely lecture her for about five minutes on the ‘ethics’ (or lack thereof) of grabbing someone’s broom tail and elbowing them in the nose (in her defense, Roman Davies had the sort of nose that just begged to mutilated one way or another), before settling down for a chat about the World Cup prospects over a crossword puzzle. It was a fortuitous mutual understanding that she suspected wouldn’t have had the same results had the last department head stuck around; the Broadmoor Brother’s numerous suspension records still held a place of pride in the Falmouth Falcons club room to this day.

Lucinda was still poring over her crossword over by one of the Ministry’s lunch trolleys when a voice broke through her thought process. Dark eyes glanced sharply at the newspaper clutched in between the man’s hands, gauging how far he’d gotten through his own crossword before finally answering, apparently satisfied that she remained ahead of him. “Feta. Happen to know the six-letter surname of the inventor of the rubber duck?”

Arthur scribbled the word onto the paper and was about to thank the woman for her kindness when she asked about yet another part of the puzzle he didn’t have complete. His eyes lit up as he looked up at her, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. “ No! I do have a ‘G’ and an ‘E’ at the end though! ”

He dropped his head to look back at the puzzle, then back up again, quill raised. “And now an ‘A’, thanks to you! Hm. ” He pressed his lips together. Of course, the rubber duck was quite a peculiar piece of muggle equipment that Arthur had come across, but that didn’t mean that he knew who invented it. Heck, he didn’t even know what it was invented for! Wow, he should really learn that. He put that in the back of his mind, sure that he’d get to figuring that out sometime, possibly when there wasn’t quite so much to do. He looked back up again, and, happy to see that the woman hadn’t moved on, grinned at her. “ Did you happen to get that one? I really would like to complete this puzzle before my break is up. ”

[mugglelcver-blog]

REMUS

Remus’s tiny little flat near Canary Wharf lay quiet that afternoon. It was a beautiful summer day in London and the only noise besides the noises of passerby was the radio in the kitchen. “A high pressure will be over the British Isles for much of July. There will be several warm days with maximum temperatures around 26 or 27. However, after promising starts to some days, cloud build up will leave disappointingly dull afternoons, but with little or no rain.” Another voice came over the small box thanking Molly Sugarplum for the weather report. The Wizarding Wireless Network, usually abbreviated to WWN, was a popular generalist station featuring music programs and based out of Hogsmeade Village. The young Gryffindor alumni was no where in sight as the radio played on.

Suddenly he appeared from the shower feeling refreshed and brightened by the exercise. There were several scars marring his perfect features as he walked steadily through the small space. He dressed for the day in the clothes he had laid out for himself. Remus always had a way of wearing clothing that didn’t suit him. It was either too baggy or didn’t suit the fashions of today. However, he was a wizard and from what he could tell, the tended to wear whatever suited them best. At least those that weren’t so concerned with appearance. Today he had chosen a pair of light weight slacks, rolled up at the ankle and a t-shirt with a cotton cardigan over the top of it all. To top it all off he’d decided to wear a pair of oxfords he had found hiding at the back of his closet.

A few hours later he found himself at the Ministry of Magic. He and Sirius were mending their relationship. Of course, if anyone asked Remus, they had bathed moved a little quickly that first night. So that was his reason for being at the Ministry today. He wanted to talk to his long time friend about the event that had occurred. He hoped that it would not end like their last tryst in the greenhouses when they were only sixteen. They had never spoken about it again and the encounter had left Remus with a bitter taste in his mouth for love in general. However, his heart still imagined that his friend loved him, in some small measure like Remus loved him. He had been waiting in the atrium cafe, where many of the Ministry of Magic employees took their break mulling this over.

“Huh?” He looked down at the red haired man who seemed to be doing a crossword. He honestly hadn’t been paying much attention and had to have the question repeated before he could answer. “Feta.“

Arthur only looked up when he’d already written in the word, made sure it fit, and then checked if it made sense. He bobbed his head, quill up in his hand as he grinned at the person in front of him. “ Brilliant! Perfect! ”

He squinted a bit, knowing that he knew the voice, and recognized the face, but unsure whether or not he knew the boy in front of him. Arthur was normally so good with this sort of thing, too! What was wrong with him? Was it the appearance? No, that just made him recognize him even more. Aha! And like that, Arthur had it. This was a boy he’s seen with James Potter before. Not often, but every once in a while. And yet, he still couldn’t pin his name down, even though he was sure that he’d asked James before.

This was probably the worst part of it, because now he’d waited too long to ask his name without the boy knowing that he recognized him and forgotten who exactly he was. Of course, it wasn’t as though Arthur was even that close with James, but still, he’d like not to be rude. The silence but tension (at least on Arthur’s end) had gone on too long for his own liking, so he finally lowered his quill, nodded again, and cleared his throat. “ Thank you. Very much...? ” He left this as an invitation for the person in front of him to introduce himself, and if he decided not to, he’d gather that information from James later.

[mugglelcver-blog]

“Do you ever think if people heard our conversations they’d lock us up?”

“ What! No, no, they’d award us. I don’t think that anything we’re talking about would have enough impact to get us arrested. ” He leans in a bit closer and raises his eyebrows. “ Wait, would the muggles arrest us for speaking like this? ”

[mugglelcver-blog]

“It’s not that you’re wrong, exactly, you’re just extremely not right.”

Anger boiled up in Arthur’s chest as he told himself to keep calm, that this fight was not worth it, that in the end, he would win the fight that actually mattered. “ Well. Maybe you believe that my job is worthless, but the people that pay me don’t, so I will be getting back to it, thank you very much. ”

[mugglelcver-blog]

date: july 26, 1979 location: the ministry of magic status: open

Arthur crossed and uncrossed his legs, scrunched his nose, and looked down at the newspaper in his hand, quill ready as he sighed and looked up. While sometimes he apperated home for lunch time, he decided that today, he would take a shorter break, eat quickly, do the crossword, and go back to the office early so he could leave a bit early and surprise Molly by coming home early. Not that he could ever really surprise Molly, what with her clock and killer intuition. But still, it would be a nice change of pace.

However, there was a flaw in his plan, since he was almost done with his coffee, and still he had a few questions left on the crossword. And if he went back to work now, the undone crossword would be the only thing on his mind, and if that were the case, then he wouldn’t be able to work as efficiently, which meant he would get home at the same time or later, which meant that the swiftness of his break would be for naught. So he looked back down, pressed his lips together, and hovered his quill over the clue.

“ Excuse me, ” he asked without looking up as someone passed him. “ Do you happen to know what spanakopita is or what four-letter cheese is in it? ”

[leepace71]