I am dissonance waiting to be swiftly pulled into tune

Benjy | 25 | Ex-Hufflepuff | Neutral And somehow I’ve fallen in love | With this middle ground at the cost of my soul | Yet I know, if I stepped aside | Released the controls, you would open my eyes | That somehow, all of this mess | Is just my attempt to know the worth of my life...

[puffwick-blog]

disguiiises:

“Possible? Not likely.” She laughed and shook her head, following Benjy as they walked and bumping his shoulder back. Perhaps together, they could manage to make Severus even remotely happy, but that would be a stretch. “I can’t imagine that we’d be able to get a potion into him, anyway. He’s keen with those things.” The change of subject had her smile fade, and Roxanne sighed softly. “I dunno. I’m holding up, I guess. How about you?”

“You’re right about that, I’ve never seen a man that was more aware of his potion’s than Severus. How does he even manage to keep all of them logged in his head that way? It’s rather astounding, actually,” Benjy commented, grinning over at Aurora as they walked along, stopping in front of the bookshelf he believed housed the one she was searching for. “Alright,” he replied before he even thought it through, his head ducking once the word passed his lips. “Not alright, I don’t know why I keep saying that. I’m rather scared, if I’m going to be honest. I’m worried with this whole revolt thing that we’re going to be seeing a whole lot more executions.”

[puffwick-blog]

fletchxr:

“The biggest,” Mundungus replied distractedly, not entirely aware of how much further he was digging himself into his own grave as he scanned the labels of jars and vials with a critical eye, the paper crumpled in his pocket one he didn’t quite dare to bring out into public lest someone get a glimpse of it. His business dealings with certain subsets of the population were better left deep in the shadows where they were still profitable to both of them. “That sounds great,” he continued obliviously, forehead furrowing as he tried to recall precisely what he hadn’t been able to retrieve.

Mugwort; dried, powdered or fresh? Dittany extract or Dittany salve? These were the questions he’d never cared enough to learn back at Hogwarts. “We could all stand to be a little less abrasive these days, couldn’t we? Do you happen to know whether extract of dittany is more potent than a salve?” 

His head craned back, eyes darting hurriedly away in an attempt to avoid making eye contact lest guilt make itself known like the red-haired step child of emotions. “Not in the market for stealth potions today, as luck would have it, just a bit of Mugwort and,” his nose wrinkled in the effort of attempting to remember the last item on his list. He hoped that Appoline appreciated the lengths to which he had gone to retrieve her ingredients. “It’ll come to me.”

Discomfort crawled down his spine at the prospect of a thank you for the kind service he’d offered that day, smile stalling on his face, “Don’t mention it.” Literally.

“Really? You think that talking to Severus sounds great?” Benjy asked, rather confused by the man’s reaction before him. It wasn’t that he was all that surprised, if he did in fact like potions. But Severus had quite the reputation that proceeded him. Whenever he brought the other man up, it always seemed as though people either rolled their eyes or quickly walked the other way. If he could somehow strike up a friendship between the two of them, perhaps he wouldn’t be so grumpy all the time. He felt rather bad for his college, after all, he did have to deal with the cheery natures of Aurora and him. Perhaps if he had someone more mysterious to speak with, he would be less inclined to snark at them. Though some part of him imagined he would rather miss his cynical nature if it ever disappeared entirely.

Bouncing on his toes, he smiled, nodding his head enthusiastically. “Oh yeah, absolutely. It’s like Mum always said, you have to treat those around you how you want to be treated, right? You catch more flies with honey than vinegar!” He replied, shaking his head. “She was always saying those kinds of things. I think they were Muggle sayings. They always amused me when I was little though.” Furrowing his brows, he glanced towards the shelf. “Oh, extract is always more potent than salve. Salves are typically made from the extracts, actually. They just use a substance that is a carrier for it so that it can be applied directly with better results.”

Looking across at Dung, he tilted his head to the side curiously. “Mugwort? Oh! I have some of that. What kind do you need? It comes in all different ways,” he explained as he moved down the shelves towards where it was stocked. “I would recommend fresh if you’re making a potion you are going to drink, otherwise it tastes nasty. If it’s something you need to be extra potent, I would go with dried though. Drying tends to bring out the magical properties of an ingredient.”

Glancing at Mundungus, he sighed. “But I do worry about these things. Sometimes I think I just lose my head, especially lately. I’ve got to watch where I’m going more often. But you’re a good bloke, so I’ll give you a discount, yeah?”

[puffwick-blog]

disguiiises:

She hadn’t expected so actually see someone she knew; she had just seen a body and asked for help. Spotting Benjy, though, brought a grin to her face, and Roxanne clapped her hands together. “Benjy! Fancy seeing you here too.” Her nose wrinkled at the mention of Severus, and she blew some hair out of her face (not that there was much to do that anyway, at least not in this body). “Was he a sourpuss then as well? Don’t answer that, he always is.” She shook her head and smiled again, nodding instead. “I’d like that, thank you so much.”

Releasing a laugh, Benjy, cocked his head to the side, shrugging his shoulder. “Is Sev anything less than a sourpuss at any given time? I’m starting to wonder if we should try brewing a potion to make him more pleasurable to be around. You know, something where he’s cheerful and happy instead of snarky and biting. You think that’s even possible?” He asked, grinning across at her. Walking along, he moved towards the far corner with her, bumping his shoulder into hers. “How are you holding up with everything?”

[puffwick-blog]

fletchxr:

To be entirely fair, Slug and Jiggers was not Mundungus’s first port of call when it came to acquiring the lotions and potions and slimy tails that Apolline Delacour required to run her little countertop chopshop. For one, they were a legitimate place of business. For two, he trusted half their staff about as far as he could kick them. For three, there was Benjy Fenwick.

If guilt took a human form, Mundungus suspected it would look like the nicest former classmate you could possibly imagine with the added bonus of having once stolen his watch. “Just browsing,” he replied hurriedly, hands stuffed deep into his pockets like if he pretended hard enough to be another person Benjy might mysteriously forget who he was, “You know. For fun. I’m a big .. big fan of .. potioning.”

Veering hurriedly down the nearest aisle like if he did it fast enough Benjy might just forget to follow him he wracked his brain for the shortlist of ingredients that Magic Meg had been short on. He suspected the nasty old bint had just wanted to make his life difficult. Keep moving, Mundungus. Maybe if he was lucky Fenwick would get distracted by a passing dog or balloons. 

The sight of Mundungus startled him, he had to admit. He wasn’t exactly the first person he’d expected to come face to face with when he’d turned around, and yet, somehow he wasn’t surprised. If he was honest, he’d always rather looked up to the other man, the way things seemed to go so easily for him, how he was proactive in getting what he wanted. Benjy himself was nothing like that, so admiration for those traits came easy.

He’d always been grateful to Dung for leading him out of Knockturn Alley that day, when he’d been in such a daze. He hadn’t realized what he’d been doing, his brain a clouded fog, and really, anything could have happened if it hadn’t been for the other man’s steadying hand. “You’re a big fan of potioning?” He asked, practically bouncing along behind Mundungus like a stray puppy. “Well, if that’s the case, maybe you should stick around and wait for Sev! Really, he could use a friend that can talk potion. Sometimes I feel so bad for him, you know? He’s like one of those people who is super smart but no one understands him. Though, he could be a bit less abrasive.”

Following him down the aisle, Benjy cocked his head to the side. “What are you looking for in particular? If it’s ingredient you need, we have a whole new fresh batch in the back. Just came in! You more interested in the stuff for healing or some other crazy potion? Oh! A stealth potion? Not that you would need one, I’m sure.” Leaning against the counter, he studied the man before him. “You know, I never got to thank you for that day in Knockturn Alley.”

[puffwick-blog]

moody--swings:

Alastor stepped aside to invite Benjy inside his home; he would later mentally kick himself for not holding his wand to his throat and asking a password question. Had the grief and hopelessness stolen his vigilance from him? “We’re well as we can be, Benjy. Mary and I are both kept so busy with work we don’t see each other much anymore…I was hoping maybe you’d know more about her current state than I do.” The older man frowned and chewed on his inner cheek, shook his head as he replied. “I’m afraid I know very little about this new group, and I prefer to keep it that way for now. You and I know where my loyalties truly lie but I don’t sit in my position by proclaiming vengeance in Dumbledore’s name. Nothing about this world is easy anymore, everything is day by day and frankly, I don’t need this complication.”

He didn’t need it unless the rebels had their shit together at least. Alastor couldn’t abuse his position of power to aid them if they were a clusterfuck.

Stepping into the familiar house, he looked around, a small smile gracing his lips at the sight. So many good memories were held within these walls, a home away from home when he’d always needed it. He could remember the jokes and laughter, but it all seemed so distant with the way the world seemed to be crumbling around them.

“I haven’t seen her yet, honestly, which is rather worrying. I would have thought she would have owled by now about it. Though I know she’s risking a lot by working at the paper, maybe she just hasn’t found the opportunity. I’m sure they are forcing her to cover this... situation,” he murmured, shaking his head, not wanting to say what it truly was lest he fall apart in front of the man he so greatly respected.

“I can understand that, sir, of course. I think that’s the smarter course. Truly, I’m afraid to even think of what’s to come. If people are out there proclaiming vengeance then it’s only a matter of time before there is more blood in the streets. I --- I don’t know how much more of that I can handle seeing. I gave up being a healer so I wouldn’t have to watch people die daily, but it seems like death is knocking on my door regardless.” He tried to ignore the churning in his gut, the way the word choked him. Death was nothing but a reminder of what he’d lost, and it was still hard to think about without feeling like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. “They seem like they are being foolhardy. Yet some part of me... wishes I could help.”

[puffwick-blog]

duplicitiies:

“It is within the realms of possibility.” Severus would not be surprised if there had been developments within the next fifty to one hundred years. “After all, think of how much is already possible with magic. It’s only the next logical step. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already working away on it in the Department of Mysteries.” Although that would be something that only the people within the department would know about, as per the department’s nature. “Torture?” He echoed, his brow furrowing. “That’s not quite the word I would use exactly. Besides, it’s not as if we’d share the knowledge with the muggles.” Distaste was evident in his voice. “I think we’d be just fine. The Wizarding population is quite small, after all.” Severus nodded in agreement. “My grandfather has quite the collection in our library at home, as does the library at Malfoy Manor, from what I can remember.” Severus could only assume that Benjy meant Death Eaters when he mentioned people he didn’t want to have access to those kind of texts. Severus, on the other hand, could only think that it would be far from good for any of Dumbledore’s supporters to get their hands on them - nobody should bring that old coot back to life.

“You expect that would be the case? My, aren’t you the proactive sort.” His eyes rolled. “Just because you gave it up doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t stay abreast of things. Only a moron would give it up completely.” His eyes flicked over Benjy pointedly, his lips pursing. A scoff of a laugh escaped him. “Do I consider myself? I know that I’m one of the best. I’ve been brewing since I was child. I was already at a fourth year standard in potions by the time I started at Hogwarts. How many others can say that? Not many, if at all.” He sneered, his lip curling. “It’s not as if I’d tell you to send them after Slughorn now is it?” An eyebrow raised. “If they need it and have the money then by all means, send them my way. My services aren’t cheap.”

“I can’t say that I agree with your sentiments. I’ve never been much of a wide eyed idealist. Happy endings simply aren’t plausible in the real world. A happy ending for some would be others’ worst nightmares.” And would undoubtedly lead to more problems, of that he was certain. “Well, I for one can’t wait for the day that they get caught and end up in Azkaban. It’s the very least they deserve.” The dementors would certainly have their work cut out for them. “The Ministry needs to step up to the plate and control them.”

“They were too unrealistic for me.” He agreed. “But if you can read it then you can criticise it better. Besides, hasn’t every wizarding child read them? I understand that it’s a given.” He shrugged. “Perhaps I might, perhaps I might not. That is none of your business.”

"A lot is possible with magic, that is true. I have seen it with my own eyes. Bringing someone back from the brink of death when otherwise it shouldn’t be possible. It’s quite impressive, we should be thankful every day that we have that kind of talent,” Benjy said, looking thoughtful, his finger tapping against his bottom lip as he considered Severus’s words. It was a hard thing to wrap his mind around, the idea that one day the might all be able to be brought back to life. He wondered how far they would all go once they figured out that magic. If they would raise the darkest wizards that ever existed, or if they would choose the path of light, and raise all those that they knew could make the world a better place. “I don’t know about that, it all depends on who they decide to bring back once that possibility is within grasp, don’t you think? We have plenty of darkness in our history as wizards. Imagine if someone brought back Salazar Slytherin, Morgana, and a whole host of others? Not that it would necessarily be bad, if they like how things are being done, but if they didn’t?” He shook his head, eyes going wide at the prospect. He didn’t want to know what some of the most powerful wizards and witches of their time might do if given half the chance. If someone like Voldemort was given true immortality. “I’d like to see one of those old libraries some day. It seems like it would be buzzing with information and past lives.”

“What’s the point in staying up on it if I don’t plan to go back to it? You think I want to sit around helplessly, watching people die in my arms and under my care? I can do that enough without being a healer these days, thanks,” Benjy retorted, letting out a sigh. It was frustrating that that was the case, he didn’t want to have to give up the work he loved, but the thought of trying to save someone and failing only brought ghostly images of his mother’s prone form to his mind. “No, I imagine not many can say that, I certainly can’t. But... aren’t the others in your field super old? Doesn’t that mean they have more years on you doing that kind of work and practicing? Just, logically, you would think they would be better because of that.” He shrugged his shoulders, not really knowing much about the craft besides what he needed for his own studies and work. He was decent, but he knew he was nowhere near Severus’s level. “I’ll keep that in mind. Though, why not do some cheaper work? I bet it would be good for you. People can be very grateful when you help them out. Sometimes more-so than those with money.”

“I always thought happy endings were something of a goal, honestly. If you’re not working towards what makes you happy, then what are you doing with your life?” He asked rhetorically, shaking his head to clear it and focus on Sev once more. “How is the Ministry supposed to control a force they have no idea even existed? How are they going to find them? I mean, those pamphlets appears out of nowhere over night! Someone really thought it through to be able to cover that much ground in one evening.”

“I guess so, though it depends on what you mean by every child. Muggleborns most likely haven’t, which is fair, given they don’t even know about our world until they get some letter in the post. Imagine that? Not knowing about this world? Not sure if that would be good or bad at this point,” he murmured, more to himself than to Severus. Glancing across at him, he laughed, raising both brows. “Oh, what, you think I’m going to go around gossiping about you Severus? Trust me, that’s not something I’m really focused on.”

[puffwick-blog]

Slugs and Jiggers

28 January 1979

Open

The store was quiet as he stocked the shelves, his fellow employees both missing in that moment. He knew Aurora would be back soon enough, but he hated being alone with his thoughts. When he had no one else to focus on, they were always morbid, focused on the deaths and destruction that permeated their society. They always got him down, depression tugging at the corners of his mind, trying to tell him just to give up hope.

But he wouldn’t, he couldn’t, so much depended on all this ending that he refused to think their lives were over before they had begun.

The bell tinkled overhead, his head popping up to take in the form that loomed in the doorway.

“Hi there!” He said cheerfully, putting on the best smile he could manage in that moment. “How can I help you today? What ails you?”

[puffwick-blog]

moody--swings:

“What do you want and is it important?”

“Moody,” Benjy said breathlessly as he saw the man before him, the one he’d always considered the father he’d never had. “It’s not really important, but I just wanted to check in with you and Mary, see if you’re alright after --- everything.” With a shake of his head, he tried not to think about the dead bodies of Hagrid and Pomona, the sight still haunting his memory. “This new group that’s formed, have you heard much about it?”

[puffwick-blog]

disguiiises:

Flourish and Blotts

30 January 1979

Open

“Excuse me? Do know if a copy of Book of Potions by Zygmunt Budge is here? I can’t take the copy out of the shop, and mine’s been lost somewhere in my…flat.”

“Aurora?” Benjy asked as he recognized the voice of his fellow co-worker, a smile gracing his lips as he turned. He’d been spending more and more time among the bookshelves, determined to pick up new ones to learn and gain knowledge that might be useful in the future. “Fancy meeting you here of all places! Seems this is the place for me to run into all me coworkers. Ran into Sev here just a few weeks ago,” he admitted, bouncing anxiously on his toes. “I think I saw that book over in the far corner. Here, let me help you find it!”

[vanityxburke-deactivated2026031]

When she’d graduated from Hogwarts, Emma had shut the door close on those seven years of her life and promptly thrown away the key. Granted, from most anyone else’s point of view they’d probably seemed like the glory days… and in some ways they had been. It was where she’d first discovered quidditch, a life-long infatuation that’d quickly skyrocketed her to the very top of the Slytherin hierarchy, regardless of whether or not she’d actually had the desired credentials to justify making such a climb. She’d had friends. She’d made high marks. She’d sat on a golden throne, brilliant and untouchable, and had presided over the dungeons as if she had any right to. As if she were one of them when in truth she’d never been anything but an outlier playing a part. Their ideology was a mask she’d wear interchangeably, slipping it on whenever it was to her benefit and shedding it just as easily when she’d determined it was safe to do so. Her friends, save for a select few, had never really been friends but rather more like stepping-stones towards the path that’d get her the farthest. Even her bloody grades had been a charade, never coming nearly as effortless to her as she’d made it appear.

Hogwarts had been an illusion. From a practical standpoint, she’d been much better off back then than she was now, ousted from her pedestal and teetering over an ever thinning tightrope. Still, Emma knew things weren’t altogether that different anymore – the rules were the same; it was the scenery that’d changed.

When she felt a gentle hand at her shoulder, Emma stiffened at the familiarity; it was as if those seven years had all come rushing back.

“Benjy,” she breathed, his name sounding sounding more like a long forgotten question than an acknowledgment. Dazed, Emma turned to look over at him, eyes both seeing and unseeing. The taste of blood in her mouth was strangely the most comforting sensation in between the grisly sight of her fallen professors and the reemergence of ghosts from the past. After another’s moment’s worth of blank staring, she seemed to regain her bearings, “I’m fine. My day’s looking a lot better than theirs at any rate.”

His words, emphatic and concerned as ever, stirred something within her that she couldn’t be sure was altogether positive. Benjy had been one of the few people to ever catch a glimpse past the mask of her Hogwarts days. He’d been on both sides – treated with grudging fondness and ruthlessly belittled – and for some reason he’d always stuck around. It was a curious phenomena, one she’d never been able to decide if she appreciated or resented him for. “Take that up with Macnair, I hear he’s always up for a bit of constructive criticism.” Her gaze swept over the surrounding area carefully, noting that not many people had eyes for anything that wasn’t currently splayed across a bloodied stage. Still, it was best to not linger. With a cautious tilt of her head she motioned for Benjy to follow her a little ways off from the exhibition. If anyone thought to ask what she was doing with a muggleborn, she’d claim a pressing question about the apothecary business. Emma cleared her throat, “How’s life been treating you, then?”

[puffwick-blog]

While the years at Hogwarts had been fond to him, he knew they hadn’t been to everyone. Emma had always been nice to him in the quiet moments between classes where no one else was around, in the library between the stacks, where no one could hear or see them standing with heads bowed, whispering in turn to one another. It was the small moments that Benjy held onto, the ones where he knew there was a kindness underneath the harsh, sullen mask Emma wore daily. It was one of the few things that kept him grounded and kept him coming back, the abuse of any biting words rolling off like water droplets upon a raincoat. His Mother’s had always taught him to be kind, to not judge an individual by the face they showed the world. What mattered was what was underneath, and some part of him felt as though he knew Emma’s heart was purer than she’d ever admit.

She hadn’t needed to give him those moments of kindness; she hadn’t needed to even acknowledge his existence, but she had, and that was what he took forwards with him on the days where harsh words dripped past her dark red lips.

The sound of his name was like a ghost, hauled forward from the depths of time, from another life. It seemed at times as though Hogwarts was nothing more than a fantasy, a dream they’d all jointly imagined. The horrors that surrounded them now ripping away the sanctuary of peace that had enveloped them within those walls.

“I think everyone’s day is looking better than theirs, unfortunately,” he replied, his gaze steady on the corpses of his beloved professors. “Which is saying something, considering the amount of misery that is hanging in the air around us.” Brown eyes glanced over meeting blue, his chest feeling tight as he stood beside her. He would not cry. A reaction is what they all craved.

Sliding along through the crowd, he moved with her off to the side, not a single person disturbed by them, all of them focused solely on the message the Death Eaters had left behind.

This was what happened when you hoped.

“You know, I would tell him he’s doing a sloppy job, but I would like to keep my own head for the time being,” Benjy retorted, pushing his fingers through his hair, scratching the back of his head. “I’m rather fond of it and I don’t think I could put my mother through that after everything that’s happened.” With a sigh, he glanced back towards the stage, eyes lingering on the prone form of his Head of House. “She’s the one that saw my talents, you know.”

Trying to shake off the growing sickness as it gurgled and grew inside of his gut, he focused his attention on Emma, deciding it was important to move forward.

“Oh, you know. Mum died. Depressing, tragic, gave up healing for a while so I don’t have to see...,” he gestured behind him towards the corpses, letting out a huff of air. “A lot of good that did me.” His teeth pressed hard into his bottom lip, pain shooting through his system, screaming at him to stop, lest he break skin. “Now everyone is going on about those flyers and I just want to live a peaceful existence. Seems like a dream now.” With furrowed brows, he looked across at her, eyes wandering over delicate features. “My real question is, how can you stand it all? How have you been surviving?”

[vanityxburke-deactivated2026031]

January 15th, 1979 Diagon Alley 8:34 a.m @puffwick 

It was difficult to tell which of the two had brought on the shivering first: the frigid cold and biting wind… or the strewn corpses on display, their blood still painting the snow red. 

Emma’s blank gaze remained fixed on a patch of cobbled earth a mere inch or two away from the stage; it was soaked in crimson, the steady pitter-patter of blood dripping from their victim’s severed neck beating against the ground in eerie motion. It was all she could make out – everything else was just white noise. 

Hope is not dead. We fight in Dumbledore’s name; join us.

Right. 

She was distantly aware of her uncle’s presence looming behind her shoulder, but whatever else he might have been trying to say or do, along with others still loitering around the scene of the crime, felt strangely insignificant to her. Sentimentality, it’d been said, had never quite found its way into the Burke family gene pool and sure enough, even standing there, staring at their blood with her stomach feeling as though it’d been weighed down by frozen bricks, Emma’s compassion towards her former professors was sparse. Instead she simply felt… cold. Exhausted. Vindicated in the absolute worst of ways. Hope was nothing but another pipe dream they’d do well to stop chasing.

“Looks like the Alley’s down another man.” Caractacus noted stiffly, and though she didn’t have to spare a glance his way to know his expression would be as inscrutable as ever, Emma suspected the sight of Hagrid’s mutilated body hadn’t been an easy one for him to swallow; the man had been one of them, after all. 

There was a sharp, shooting pain along the side of her mouth and she tasted rust. “… Looks like.”

Caractacus sniffed, kicking off snow from his shoes. “Ah, well…” He turned his back on the bloody scene and stared straight ahead. “Mieux vous mourrez que moi.”

Emma finally raised her eyes from the pool of red, the sound of her uncle’s retreating footsteps growing fainter by the second. They found themselves drawn to the pair of limp bodies on stage and, unaware that she was being approached from behind, she smiled something small and mirthless, tone grim as she translated to herself, “Better you die than I.”

[puffwick-blog]

The day had been long, taxing on the emotions in a way that Benjy had no words to describe.

While he felt numb and hopeless, an anger rested in the far reaches of his body, nestled in firmly against the curve of his bones. It was something he would never acknowledge, the sad ache of loss curling thick over his entire being like an old and worn blanket.

Grief was something he was familiar with, grief was something he could handle.

The forms of his old Professors lingered upon the stage, their corpses still fresh; the metallic scent of blood pouring over the street. He felt helpless in a way that overcame him, making his muscles feel weak inside each limb, legs refusing to pull him away from the scene he despised most.

In his mind’s eye, all he could see was his mother. Her soft hair, cascading over his legs as he held her prone body against his chest. The way her eyes stared blankly, an empty shell that no longer housed one of the women he called home. Life was so fragile, so special. It didn’t deserve this treatment.

The crowds had begun to part, but he didn’t move, couldn’t move, until his gaze landed upon a familiar form a few feet away. Dirty blonde hair cascaded down her back, her shoulders tense, her face turned away --- but he would know her anywhere, familiarity hitting him like a punch to the gut.

Heavy feet brought him closer, each step a weight that dragged him down, pulling his soul towards the earth, trying to rip it out from inside of him. But he held on, tight and unyielding, knowing that giving up was not an option.

With long pale fingers, he reached out, enclosing his hand upon her shoulder, keeping his touch light.

“Emma,” he managed to say, the word caught in the back of his throat, thick like honey. “Hi. Are you okay?” He asked, Benjy’s concern moving to envelop his friend before him. He knew from experience, her ability to bottle her emotions, as if they were tincture she could keep bound tight and locked away in the dark.

“They should really move those bodies. They deserve a funeral. They deserve... more.”

[puffwick-blog]

Benjy: Why is everyone laughing? I can be a badass

Severus: You're raising your hand right now

Benjy: We're in a meeting!

[duplicitiies-blog]

Severus rolled his eyes. Honestly, the reason why there weren’t many breakthroughs of late was due to people like Benjy, in Severus’ opinion. Just because something hadn’t happened yet didn’t mean that it never would. After all, would Damocles have been able to create the Wolfsbane potion if he had that mindset? Severus didn’t think so. “No one has been able to do so yet.” He corrected. He prickled at the use of his nickname. He had only allowed a few people to call him Sev, and Benjy was not one of them. “It’s Severus.” He sniffed. “Neither of us are unspeakables so we cannot say for certain what happens to the soul after death.” Severus had read enough books over the years that had dealt with the darkest forms of magic to know that there were ways to preserve the soul in part, although the books were fairly sparse with the details. He shrugged. “The average person would not be able to attempt the magic in that book to the degree that they would desire. There’s little chance of them succeeding so you don’t have to worry.” It would be entertaining to see someone attempt to follow the instructions in the book, of that Severus was certain.

“In order to stay the best in the field one must stay on top of the latest developments, no matter how ill thought out they may be. Don’t you agree?” Why else would Severus subscribe to all the international potions journals and religiously stalk the new arrivals at the bookshops? Just for the fun of it? No, his curious streak and his need to better himself pushed him to take in as much information as he could. After all, you could not always tell what would come in use further on down the line.

“Happy endings are for children’s books, not for real life.” Nothing was ever as simple as fairy tales made them out to be. The muscles in his jaw twitched at Benjy’s mention of the so-called revolt, his blood on the verge of boiling, the memory of the Dark Lord’s reaction to the flyer incident still fresh in his mind. “Whoever was responsible is foolhardy and has as good as signed their own death warrant once their identity becomes known.” He sniffed, his expression less than impressed. Dumbledore was a fool and clearly his followers fared little better than he did. “It’s moronic.”

Well, that did not have quite the reaction that Severus had been anticipating. “I am familiar with the tales, I read them as a child.” His eyes rolled. “Can’t say that I particularly enjoyed them. The tales are a little too preachy for my tastes. Although I have to admit that I appreciate the darkness of The Warlock’s Hairy Heart - however outlandish it may be.” He shook his head. “That is but the folly of man. The third brother was the only one who had the right idea.”

[puffwick-blog]

His gaze focused intently on Severus’s expression, seeing the way annoyance flickered behind his eyes. With a shrug of his shoulder, his hands curled around the spine of the book, replacing it on the self. “So you’re claiming that one day people will be able to bring back the dead as if they had never died at all in the first place?” It was a curious thought, one he tried not to think on too hopefully. If it could be sooner rather than later, there could be a chance of getting his mother returned to him. However, he knew the risks were far too high for him to be able to do so without absolute certainty. He would never want to do that to her if she couldn’t return as a fully functioning human. It would be no life for her at all if she was merely an animated corpse. “Seems rather far fetched, doesn’t it? If we defeat death, there would be no way the world would be able to survive that torture.” He ignored Severus’s correction to use his full name, tilting his head to the side. “If you say so, but that doesn’t mean people I don’t want to get their hands on it wouldn’t be able to. Though I expect most pureblood families probably have the likes of that stowed away in their expansive libraries. I’ve seen pictures of some of those, they are massive!”

With a shrug of his shoulders, he leaned against the bookshelf, his eyes roaming about the colorful spines. “I expect that would be the case, yes. Though what do I know about it? I gave up healing, for the most part. The only thing I need to know is what potion and salve does what. Not really that complicated, if you ask me,” he commented, lifting one of his feet to scratch at the back of his other leg. “Do you consider yourself one of the best in your field? Should you be the one I recommend people to when they need the strongest potions on the market then?”

With a sigh, he pursed his lips, crinkling up his nose a moment later. “Yeah, expect that’s true the more I live. It’d be nice though, wouldn’t it? If we could all get our happy endings. Though I guess some of them would contradict one another. Would get complicated really fast,” he muttered, finding himself lost in thought as he considered the logistics of how it would be possible. Shaking it off, he blinked across at Sev, chewing down on his bottom lip. “Well, I would expect the feel they have nothing to lose. Why else would they go to such extremes? Think some people already feel dead the way things have been going. That’s when it gets dangerous, doesn’t it? When people feel like they’ve got no other choice, they tend to pace like starved lions. Just hoping no one waves a stake at them to provoke them. We don’t need any more massacres.”

His face lighting up, he let out a laugh as he tried to imagine a little Severus hunched over the tales. “You’ve read them? Wow, that’s unexpected. I would have thought they would be too unrealistic for you, even at that age. You don’t seem the type to stand for that kind of nonsense,” Benjy commented, giving him a smile. “Are you trying to say that you are intending to do as the third brother did? Perhaps we’re not all so clever as to hide from death.”

[carrowtothegallow-blog-deactiva]

amycus & benjy ✗ a dog’s world.

[carrowtothegallow-blog-deactiva]

    ✗ THIS WAS MORE THAN A CHALLENGE. Amycus considered the lie spoken on pale lips. His hallow eyes studied the profile of the man whose age was difficult to discern. He was incapable of guessing, and he noticed long ago that it was even more difficult for him to read ages of people with different ethnic backgrounds. Asians tended to age well; whether from following a different diet, their impeccable genes, or their often times obsessive nature with skin protection, he could not be certain, but he found it fascinating. It would be most ingenious to study skin types and how different pigments reacted to weathering.

      Amycus chose to say nothing.

       False politeness was difficult, but it appeared that Benjy (so that was his name. Interesting) had a genuinely friendly nature (even more interesting).

       Amycus again halted suddenly as one of the pups pulled, keeping the leash tight against his body as he allowed the other to explore. No use in punishing them both for one’s mishap. “Amycus,” he replied calmly. He waited ten count and then moved again, observing the way the puppies caught on to his quiet instruction fairly quickly. Dog was difficult as a puppy. He had a tendency to chew and tug his leash every time Amycus stopped, leading him to purchase two so he could drop one every time the pup decided it was a game. At least these two weren’t as testy.

      Pale green eyes darted to Benjy’s footwear and slacks, noticing his attire in silence.

       “You are a w-wizard.” It was an observation, not a question. His gaze trailed up Benjy’s thin body to land on his face to study his expression.

        Amycus was silent for a moment as they walked along, stopping briefly when he felt a tug against one of the leashes. He wondered, how in Merlin’s name, Benjy would train five at once.

        “It’s ab-bout command. T-t-teaching them respect,” he replied. “You’ve got t-to be calm. Focus on rewarding them. They r-read body language w-w-well.” He could write a book on what he knew, on what he’d learned through training Dog, but vocalizing his knowledge was another matter entirely. Amycus squinted, transferred one leash to his other occupied hand to hold them both together, and took out his cigarettes. He lit one up and puffed before silently offering one to Benjy.

[puffwick-blog]

There was a quiet strength about the man beside him that Benjy couldn’t quite figure out. It wasn’t physical, his pale skin showing purple-blue bags underneath his eyes, a sickly pallor that left him curious to know what ailed him. No, it seemed to be a mental strength, a strength of will and endurance, the ability to carry forth when all else seemed difficult. He’d gotten better at recognizing people’s spirits over the years, the souls inside of them often far more complex than the eager persona first presented. While the man didn’t say much, it didn’t bother him, as he realized it was important to let people be themselves. Everyone warmed up in their own time.

“Amycus? That’s an interesting name. Doesn’t it mean friend or something like that? I remember that it was in one of the books I used to read. It’s Greek, one of the sons of Poseidon or something,” Benjy rambled as he tried to remember the story from long ago. He’d taken a liking to the Greek mythologies before he’d gone to school, the idea of grand adventures and dangerous creatures captivating his imagination. He would often wonder if they were real, if the legends were actual tales of lives that had come before his own. Of course, they had all been tales; once he’d realized he lived in a world with adventure and dangerous creatures, the ideas stopped being so appealing.

Walking along, gripping the three leashes tightly, the dogs tried to pull towards his companion as they stopped walking again. He looked at Amycus curiously, blinking as he confirmed that he was a wizard, glancing down at himself to try and figure out what might have given it away.

“W-what? Oh, well, yes... I expect since you’re not shocked by that you’re probably a wizard yourself? How did you know I was one?” He asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to itch his nose with his finger, his hand jerking to the left, nearly poking himself in the eyes as his pup darted.

“I’m all about respect! I think they respect me. Maybe. I mean, I feed them, I give them everything they need, so why wouldn’t they respect me? I’m certainly calm,” Benjy said, trying to analyze his own behavior compared to that of what Amycus was saying. He couldn’t see where he was handling the dogs incorrectly, he certainly felt in control of himself. He never missed an opportunity to reward the pups for what they were doing right. He imagined it was probably being hindered by having so many, but he figured that just meant it would take them a little longer to settle in to their proper behaviors.

His eyes lingered on the cigarette box as it was offered to him, shaking his head quickly in response. “No thank you, I don’t smoke. Think it’s a habit I kept from being a mediwizard.”

[carrowtothegallow-blog-deactiva]

amycus & benjy ✗ a dog’s world.

[carrowtothegallow-blog-deactiva]

     ✗ PATHETIC WAS THE FIRST WORD to come to Amycus’s overworked mind. Hallow eyes watched almost sympathetically the way long, thin fingers gripped tight leashes of different colors (no doubt in some ridiculous attempt at fitting their personalities or individualizing the mutts) and struggled to maintain control. The beasts showed their owner zero respect and simple observation for less than two minutes confirmed why. He lacked authority. He lacked dominance. He lacked confidence and his pack could read him like an open book. Dogs were known for having a strong sense of smell and Amycus would be unsurprised if they could literally smell the fear emanating from their owner’s skin.

       “It is pretty clear that the only one who didn’t underes-t-timate you was you yourself.” Amycus exhaled a breath of fog and watched as it evaporated into thin air. His ankle lifted to rest against his knee and he relaxed against the hard back of the curved, wooden bench. Foot bobbing, he observed the puppies individually. The sheer variety of their breeds would send even experienced dog trainers to the madhouse. From high-energy to sick-ridden to easily bored to a few that were clearly mixed everything, possessing Merlin knew what kind of dominant traits and personalities, it was the most eclectic group of dogs he’d ever seen. They got along now, as puppies, when they were too naive to start fights when all their brains could focus on was exploration and play. If their owner gained no control over them, they might eventually turn on one another. Some would be no more than fifteen pounds while others would top out at over one hundred. Amycus wondered what in the fuck this strange man was thinking. It was why he’d always considered compassion a weakness; it lead people to make foolish decisions based on emotions rather than logic.

       Pale, almost iridescent skin practically sparkled beneath overcast skies, accentuated by pitch-black hair surrounding his sharp face. Amycus studied his expression, the way heavy lids shielded dark eyes and an undeniable look of hope colored his expression. It was startlingly fascinating, the way he moved as though he was a composition of multiple ideologies. Beneath taut skin, veins rushed with blood. Beneath muscle, a heart twitched with nervous energy. Beneath bones, marrow kept him sturdy and steady. But what else made this man who he was?

      Malnourished fingers wrapped around the two leashes handed to him without second thought. “It-t-t is– not-t a t-trick,” he tried to speak swiftly, but it was always the fucking T’s that tripped him up. Breathless, he rose to his feet. He did not wish to speak again and instead allowed his body language to speak for him. He yanked once on the leashes and began walking tall, unaccustomed to pulling. Dog pulled no longer; his training having long since stopped the bad habit. Amycus immediately stopped, forcing the puppies to halt, whining as they tugged forward. He waited patiently and then started again, stopping the second he felt a yank on his arm. It was much easier to break this habit with just one dog.

[puffwick-blog]

He observed the man before him, his cool and calm demeanor something that Benjy had to admire. He was never one for being able to sit still and relax, the go, go nature of the puppies suiting the energy that bounced around inside of his veins incessantly. He used to channel that energy to help others, to be up all hours, and stitch together grotesque injuries, but now he no longer had that. The idea of staring at dying men and women was something he could no longer fathom. The injuries and memories associated with weak hands and tear-stained faces far too crippling for him to be able to overcome. While he knew he might have taken on too much with getting so many dogs at once, it was at least a challenge he knew he could accept. A positive change in the lives of the animals, if he could not help humans in the same vein.

“I like a challenge,” Benjy replied almost immediately, glancing down at the dogs around his feet. He knew it would be a lot of work to raise them, to be able to get them to behave, but he honestly didn’t mind. It gave him a feeling of purpose along with his work at the apothecary, something to look forward to when he wasn’t on the job to fill the silent hours alone. He’d needed a task, something to focus on, and he’d certainly managed to give himself that in spades. “It’s a good distraction. I used to have a lot harder job than just training dogs for hours on end, so in a way, this is almost like a vacation. I might not be succeeding yet, but I’ll get there with time and practice,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as his gaze moved back up to the man before him. “It sure beats watching people die for hours on end.”

He huddled in on himself, stomping his feet to try and warm himself up better. The chill in the air was biting and he couldn’t fathom how the man before him had his coat open. He expected he might catch a chill later, and the mediwizard in him wanted to comment, but he tried his best to bite it back, knowing that most people didn’t appreciate unsolicited advice. “What’s your name, by the way? I’m Benjy. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he offered, hoping that his forwardness would be welcome, considering they were the only two in that area of the park. He imagined the cold weather had likely driven most people off, though it was usually busier regardless of the temperature.

A smile brightened his face as the man took the leashes from him, accepting his plead for help. He barely registered the stuttering alongside the man’s words, assuming it was either from the cold or something else that didn’t particularly matter. “If it’s not a trick, then what is it? I mean, look at that. It’s like they have known you all their life and are happy to do as you ask,” he commented, shaking his head as he moved forward with the other dogs, feeling them pulling along on the leashes.

Sirius pressed his shoulder tight against a nearby wall, hovering over Benjy’s arm while trying to school his expression into something more reassuring and less manic. The slow grin that was pulling at his mouth couldn’t quite be suppressed and it was stretching his face in odd ways. He furrowed his brow in an attempt to counteract it, but wasn’t convinced it was working.

“Well they,” he paused as if finding the words. “they don’t seem entirely powerless.” One hand gestured grandly to the Alley around them, all but mummified in the Order’s rhetoric. He’d have to track down McGonagall later and pester her for information. Wondering about the who and the when and the how of it all was going to drive him to distraction. “It can’t just be one mad individual, with all of this. There’s got to be something more going on. Something they think can actually be done.”

He turned his eyes from Benjy and back to Frank. He wanted to nudge Frank again, another prod with his elbow that would translate to look at this, look at this, there might be something here! But even Sirius Black was better at subtlety than that. If just barely.

[lxngbxttxmx-deactivated20181030]

What was jarring, in the absolute best way possible, was the fact that Benjy automatically assumed there would be a fight. Considering their side of the war, the ones now being suppressed for their lack of color coded vision, did not judge or categorize or label people, he felt horrid in assuming the waif of a man would be more on the side of talking rather than raising a wand. But, oh! How he was thrilled to hear his wayward assumptions turn out to be so wrong. A genuine smile cracked his face, one arm tossing over his shoulders.

Sirius’ exuberance only heightened the excitement tenfold, almost tempting Frank to launch into battle strategies he’d formulated over a bottle of scotch in the darkness of his flat, but one brief sweep of the alley rendered him more sensible. “I would very much like to discuss who and how and why, boys, but-” one hand swept, lingering pointedly on the growing number of death eaters circling like vultures.

“Shall we take this conversation-” and this evidence, he added silently, all too aware of the pamphlets they all still held. “To a place more secure.” He winked at Sirius, chuckling in a delightful way he hadn’t been able to do in months. “I’d very much like to get to the bottom of this.”

[ @puffwick ]

[puffwick-blog]

His gaze swept from Sirius to Frank, a buzzing excitement just barely contained behind their eyes. The smiles they wore told him that he wasn’t the only one that had begun to hope, and he was curious to find out what they knew, if anything. While the situation began to feel more precarious, he knew it was best to gather as much information as he could and weigh his options carefully. They’d already been careless in chatting on the street corner mindlessly; Frank’s simple reminder causing his gaze to linger on the dark forms of Death Eaters as they tried to clear out the street.

“My apartment is around the corner. Failing that we could go to my work, but my coworkers include some people who might not be so happy about this news,” Benjy murmured, gesturing to the pamphlet between his fingers as he thought of Severus, knowing he’d likely sneer at the idea. He wasn’t there all the time, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to take his chances. “Come on, it will be quiet there and definitely no chance of running into anyone accidentally.” He turned to lead them down the street, folding the pamphlet in hand into a small delicate square before shoving it in his back pocket.

“Fair warning, I have a lot of dogs. Well, puppies,” he said off-hand, knowing it might come as a surprise when they entered and yips filled the air. “But, do you guys know anything about you-know-what? This...whole thing? Are you involved somehow or looking to be?”

@sarciendum

[duplicitiies-blog]

“You know, I’d quite like to see you try.” Necromancy was a notoriously difficult (not to mention taboo) discipline of magic that only a handful of wizards had been able to perform correctly. Even Severus knew that he was nowhere near the level yet to even attempt it - although he would be lying if he said that he hadn’t thought about it over the last few months. Ignoring the barb from the other man, he shrugged. Trying to save someone in that state sounded like a complete waste of time and resources. “It may read as being simple, but necromancy has many intricacies.” He spoke, remembering the things he had read in his grandfather’s books. “Repairing and reanimating the body is one thing. Any skilled wizard worth their salt could create inferi if they wanted to. The real skill is in restoring the mind successfully.” Legilimency and Occlumency took years to master and Severus doubted that there were very few people that had ever been able to master them and necromancy.

Severus waited for the other man to stop with the incessant rambling and questions, a hand reaching into his pocket for his wand. How tempting it was to cast a silencing charm on Benjy, leaving Severus to collect his book in peace and get on with his day. No. He had to resist it. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and relinquished his hold on his wand. He looked back to Benjy with a tight-lipped, if unfriendly, smile. “To answer your questions; yes, it is a potions book. No, I don’t need your help looking for it. If you’re looking for a distraction, perhaps the fiction section might provide you with what you’re looking for.” And it was at the other end of the shop. He scoffed slightly. The binding matching his clothing - what on earth was Benjy going on about. “No, that’s not the book I’m looking for. I picked a copy of that one up last week.”

“Should be enough.” He grumbled, his hand gliding along the polished wood of the shelf. “The book I’m looking for..” He trailed off, his fingers latching onto the dark green leather of the spine. “is this one.” He pulled the book from the shelf, running a hand over the embossed lettering on the cover. “You want a book suggestion?” His eyebrows raised, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Perhaps you’d enjoy this one.” He removed a slim volume from the shelf and held it out towards Benjy. “A new illustrated edition of The Tales of Beedle the Bard.”

[puffwick-blog]

Benjy swallowed as Severus spoke, glancing down at the book in his hands. To be frank, he knew he would never attempt any of the spells in the book, the idea of them startling and unsettling. It made his stomach twist to even imagine the dead, rising back to a living creation, no longer the person they once were but a mindless minion to be used for destruction. Surely there was no other use for Necromancy. “No one has ever been able to reconstruct the mind of a person. The soul is not something that would return to them, Sev,” Benjy said quietly. It would be a lie if he’d said he hadn’t thought of it in the quiet hours when he was alone. That he hadn’t considered what it might take to get his mother back. However, as foolish as he sometimes could be, he wasn’t stupid. He knew fooling around in the darkest magic would lead no where good. She was gone for good and he knew that it was impossible to ever bring her back the way she was before. “I’m more for healing the living than trying to reanimate the dead anyway. I’m more concerned about the fact that this book is just sitting out on the shelf and that any old person could walk up and give it a go. Doesn’t that seem dangerous to you? What if someone is desperate after all the loss that has happened lately?”

Glancing down at the potions book in his hand, he shrugged his shoulder, placing it back on the shelf. “Oh, alright then, I suppose that makes sense. Wow, you’re really fast at picking these up, aren’t you? I guess when you’re dedicated to your craft, it’s important to know all the latest information,” he commented, his eyes scooting over the shelves, looking for any other copies of potions books. “Though, aren’t you always going on about how dumb a lot of them are? I swear I’ve heard you mumbling under your breath about changes that needed to be made to get things to work right. Why do you think that is?” He turned to face Severus again, looking at him curiously, shaking his head as he mentioned fiction. “As much as I love fiction, I’m trying to live more in the real world now. Fairy tales are just that...fairy tales. When’s the last time someone you knew got their happily ever after? Though, this whole revolt thing is rather crazy. I guess some people are trying to be the heroes of their own story. Is that maddening?”

He glanced down at the dark green leather, smiling as he saw the book Severus had been looking for. Reaching out he grazed it with his fingers before waving his hand at the suggested title for him. “No thank you, I already have that one. Got it the week before last,” Benjy commented, cocking a brow at him. “If you think that’s meant to be insulting, it’s not. Though I would suggest you pick it up. There’s a lot you can learn from those tales that perhaps you would find interesting. They are quiet fascinating. Especially the tale of the three brothers. There are many around now that could learn from the story of the brother that desired power.”