#al:starter

[ritawritesitall]

Honestly. Why where people around here so boring. Rita could honestly do with some good drama. It really did help when writing her gossip column in the Daily Prophet. Whilst she was a senior journalist, she did quite like her gossip column. It of course was not the only column she wrote, but it would for sure one of her favourites. But she couldn’t write a drama filled gossip column if there was nobody doing anything interesting.

“It’s like everyone got boring over the last five years” The blonde murmured, rolling her eyes a little. “Since when did everyone get so boring. Really.”  

[alice-inaurorland]

Location: Nott Estate Ballroom

Date: October 18, 1986

Starter: Open

Once upon a time Alice had loved gala’s like this. She’d loved nothing more than dressing up, putting on expensive and jewellery. To be honest, a big part of that Alice still loved. She loved being able to dress up, but big galas like this weren’t something she enjoyed that much anymore. Alice much preferred more informal, and cosy gatherings. To be honest the only time she really dressed up these days was when she went on date nights with Frank, and even then she preferred to be cuddled up on the couch with him.

She hadn’t really wanted to come to the Gala tonight. She still struggled with the whole celebration thing, especially when she knew Frank had lost his mother in all of this. Sure, it was great that they weren’t at war anymore, but it has cost a lot. But she was here, mostly because it was expected of them. Luckily Frank’s father was babysitting Neville. There weren’t a lot of people she trusted to babysit her little boy.

The brunette smiled at the familiar face as she took a sip of her champagne. “Beautiful Gala isn’t it?” Kind of anyway. But she could pretend right?

[elizabeth-nott]

date: 5 october 1986 location: diagon alley status: open starter

“Stay close, Liza,” commanded Elizabeth in a soft voice, her fingers reaching out to caress her daughter’s hair. The four year old took after mother in almost every way appearance wise, except for the ice blue eyes that were all her father. Those blue eyes in question were wide as she took in the unfamiliar sights that had been set up in diagon alley, and Elizabeth couldn’t help but chuckle to herself, despite her disdain for the makeup of the crowd. If she had her way, she wouldn’t have brought her daughter to a place where she would surely be mingling with filth, but Draco had let gushed about the upcoming event on the Malfoys’ last visit, and Elizabeth couldn’t distract her daughter from the event. 

Ah, well. There was sure to be some of those that Elizabeth would want her daughter to consort with, as well, and it never hurt to appear in public with her fatherless daughter. It was always good to drum up sympathy for the poor Notts. Fixing a diplomatic smile on her face, Elizabeth turned her attention away from her daughter (but still kept her hand where it was to keep Liza close) and joined the girl in taking in the sights. 

The Ministry really had outdone themselves on the event, and Elizabeth knew that there would be more to come in the rest of the month’s celebratory events. Of course, Elizabeth would rather don a mourning attitude for anniversary of the fall of her master, but that wouldn’t do as far as keeping the public’s sympathy, so she would have to show her face at these events and pretend to be just as delighted as the rest of them at the last five years of peace. If only she could figure out a way to have her master return sooner. What poetic justice for him to reveal himself on the five year anniversary of his defeat. The thought brought a smile to her lips, one that someone passing her in the crowd seemed to take as a greeting. Elizabeth was pulled from her thoughts as the passing person spoke her name, and she forced herself to return the greeting.

[poppys-pomfrey]

Location: Nott Estate Ballroom Date: 18 October 1986 Starter: Open

It felt ridiculous to be here. Not just because of how insensitive the choice of venue seemed to be, but to be here. Celebrating, as if there truly was anything to celebrate. Poppy had intended to spend the night like most others- in her study with a glass of wine and a fat book to keep her company, but Poppy was sure that Minerva would’ve had her guts for garters if she sat another event out. 

She stood in the corner, a glass of wine in her hand as she looked around the ornately decorated room. Ridiculous. She resolved to finish her drink, make a donation to St Mungo’s, and leave. To kill two birds with one stone, Poppy wandered over to the adjoining room where all of the silent auction pieces were held, and folded her arms as she perused them. She eventually found herself rather taken with a handsomely framed portrait of Janus Thickey, the wizard for whom the ward was named. She picked up the ornate quill next to the portrait and signed her bid on a piece of parchment, noticing another wix doing similar to the next item on the auction. She squinted at it, picking up her wine glass again and having another sip. “That’s definitely a fake,” She commented on the item in question, “I mean, all in the spirit of fundraising, sure. But it’s a fake.”

[pop-pomfrey]

Date: October 5, 1986

Location: Diagon Alley

Starter: Open

Argus, the old fool, had reminded Poppy of the date. Though a semi-regular topic of conversation, the festival in particular had ostensibly, unfortunately, left her radar. As she stepped from the Leaky Cauldron into the street itself, a tad dishevelled from the Floo journey, she surveyed the joyous scene with the slightest roll of her eyes. There was music, and laughter, and pockets of dancing; and she felt like the grumpy maiden aunt in the corner, eternally disapproving. Maybe, after her business had been dealt with, she would find time for a drink and a smile with an old patient or two.

The idea didn’t remain for long. Her nose wrinkled in disdain as she passed a boisterous group of young men — already drunk, no doubt. There was a naivety to this event that her anxiety failed to ignore, however pleasant the contented bustle might be in isolation, which was aided by an innate hesitancy towards anything remotely fun when there was work to be done elsewhere. With a glance at ‘Quality Quidditch Supplies’, she conceded that her one saving grace was that it was not a Quidditch weekend.

Were it not for a hideous error by a medical supplier (Sleeping Draught instead of Calming Draught), she would still be blissfully locked up in Hogwarts, preparing for the week ahead. Tomorrow was first year Potions, followed by Charms; neither boded well for her beds. It wouldn’t do to dwell on it. As it was, she was stuck lugging along a box that would respond unfavourably to the feather-light charm. If no one noticed her, even ever swathed in burgundy, that was surely all to the good.

[mcvttermole]

WHO: Mary & Open WHERE: Diagon Alley WHEN: October 5th, 1986, approx. 3:30pm

Mary wasn’t normally one for big celebrations. She used to quite enjoy them, when she was younger. She enjoyed the bright lights and loud music that parties and festivals offered -- probably because they were so far removed from the day to day life she was used to with her parents, one which, while pleasant, was frightfully dull. She’d attended a few parties and such through her time at Hogwarts, and while she’d loved them at the time, it was difficult for her to find the same enthusiasm for such events as she once had. Nowadays, large gatherings did nothing other than set Mary on edge. She didn’t like being surrounded by people, and even less by strangers, and her overactive imagination had a tendency to run rampant with worst case scenarios in situations like this.

Why was she here, then? Good question.

While Mary didn’t like large gatherings like this one, the same could not be said for her husband and daughters. Much like Mary had once been, Ellie and Maisie were awestruck by the festivities, the bright lights blinking in their irises and enchanting them in a way that only seemed to work on children. Reggie had insisted on only going if Mary was comfortable, and, though she wasn’t, she could tell that this was something he wanted, too, and he’d made enough sacrifices for Mary in their relatively short life together. She could suck it up and attend a damned street festival for him, even if it killed her ( though she really hoped it wouldn’t ).

Reggie had taken the girls to the designated child area, where a number of fun activities had been set up. As soon as her daughters had heard about the sorts of things that had up for offer over there, they’d been tugging on their father’s sleeves to try and beckon him over there ( it seemed that Reggie had naturally fallen into the role of fun parent, much to Mary’s feigned annoyance ). Mary had insisted that he take the girls and see what was going on, while she tried to get a little shopping done ( if she was here, she might as well try and get some bargains ), and had smiled as she watched her family run off in the opposite direction while she entered one of the nearby shops.

Mary had found what she was looking for, and emerged triumphant from the little store with a bag full of goods. Unfortunately, she didn’t think to look where she was going as she did so, and stumbled out onto the crowded street, colliding head first right into another person. She grimaces instinctively, every muscle in her body tensing as she looks up at the person she’d unintentionally assailed, mumbling an apology before she’s even made eye contact -- “I’m so sorry,” She says, “Are you alright?”

[alectocarrw]

WHO: Alecto & Open WHERE: Ministry of Magic, Ground Floor WHEN: October 7th, 2020

In all honesty, Alecto had never envisioned herself working for the Ministry -- at least, not in the capacity that she was. Being an obliviator was something she had almost... fallen into. After the fall of the Dark Lord and her brother’s subsequent incarceration in Azkaban, Alecto had needed to reevaluate her life strategy and align herself with a respectable career, lest people start calling for her head on a stick, too. She had managed to make it this far with plausible deniability -- yes, her brother was a Death Eater, but there was little evidence to suggest that she had been, too, nor that she knew of her brother’s involvement. Sure, it was all bullshit, but it seemed to appease the people well enough. The Carrows came from money, after all, it would be unwise to see them all behind bars.

She didn’t agree with this Ministry even in the slightest. They protected muggles and muggleborns as though they were equal to people of her own status ( in Alecto’s opinion, they didn’t even deserve the right to exist among wizarding kind, but she’s learnt to keep this to herself in recent years, these opinions had, unfortunately, fallen out of favour ), and they’d gone on a wild manhunt at the end of the war, rounding up Death Eaters to make an example of, her brother, unfortunately, being among the casualties. No, she didn’t agree with the values of this Ministry, but she’d managed to worm her way into it. Her mother had always suggested she marry a Ministry man ( lots of benefits to be had from a man in power ), so she figured inserting herself into the same position would reap the same benefits.

She didn’t find her job particularly thrilling. She’d always been very skilled at charms ( though often her skills weren’t put to quite so pleasant a use ), and it had seemed like a natural enough fit. She despised the muggles she had to encounter, but she had to admit that she did enjoy being the one to rob them of their memories. In her opinion, they shouldn’t have had them in the first place. Today was an unfortunately slow day. Part of her job was filling reports on every bloody thing she did -- which frustrated her to no end. As long as nobody complained, she didn’t see why the higher-ups needed to keep tabs on her every move. She’d been onto her third report of the morning when she’d become far too bored and frustrated to continue, storming out of her office and down to the Ministry lobby in the hopes of finding something to eat or drink, or some other form of distraction.

Perhaps, were she a bigger person, Alecto would acknowledge her own role in the collision that would take place. She’d been practically storming through the lobby, a scowl decorating her features and metaphorical smoke billowing from her ears when she’d smacked shoulders with someone coming from the other direction. “Watch it,” She hisses, turning on her heel to look back at the person she’d run into, “Did nobody teach you to look where you’re going?”

[alice-inaurorland]

Date: October 5, 1986 Location: Diagon Alley Starter: Open

Alice did have to admit to herself that she was enjoying this little celebration. Sure, she hadn’t really wanted to be here, and if anyone asked she would much rather be cuddled up at home on the couch with Frank as they watched their little boy play. But she would admit that she was actually enjoying herself. Frank and Neville were a few feet in front of her, looking at the stalls, and the shops, and Alice just found herself smiling. She knew she didn’t get out much, and events like this really did make her wonder why. She knew why really. The anxiety she had felt in the run up to this event had nearly been enough to stop her coming. It was only because of Frank that she had come. She made a mental note to thank him for yet again helping her to over come her anxiety and actually do something that she ended up enjoying.

She paused for a minute, the smile on her face as she looked around. It was nice to see friendly and familiar faces. The good feeling she had wouldn’t last, she knew the guilty and anxiety would come back, but maybe for a little while it would be enough. “Hi!” She murmured, recognising the person that was coming up to her. “Lovely afternoon isn’t it?”