#antem:start

[frvnklongbcttom]

@antemortemstarters​​

“sure it’s getting colder but the fortescue chocolate swirl is something that i could eat even in the winter months,” frank was on a quick lunch break, he had to come down here anyway to question someone on a case that he was working on but there hadn’t been much progress and if frank was being honest he was a little restless lately given the political climate that they were in. 

[mcllyprcwett]

“how about The Tales of Beedle the Bard, then?” she asked, as if she was going to get an answer from bill who sat perched on her hip, rather content with the lolly she had pacified him with, “that should keep us entertained, yeah?”. bundled up for the fall bustle of diagon alley, they had slipped right into flourish and blotts after their quick stop at sugarplum’s sweet shop. 

“now we just need to find something for mummy” she sighed, fingers tracings the spines of the books - too many options, she hadn’t realize that she had company. 

@antemortemstarters​

[constantmoody]

It  was  a  map  before  him,  points  lighting  up  like  little  sentinels  across  the  least  protected  wixen  villages.  The  gold  light,  that  was  a  good  one  -  calming.  Those  red  lights,  however,  gave  a  leap  in  his  heart.  It  had  been  a  few  months  since  he  last  ‘caught’  a  red  light  on  his  map.  And  in  the  silence  of  his  office,  his  face  drew  closer,  and  closer  to  the  glow  where  he  stared  long  enough  to  no  longer  be  sure  of  the  color  where  the  tan  parchment,  black  lines,  and  golden  shimmer  bonded  into  a  grey-ish  mode.  

Leanly  he  had  swiveled  behind  his  own  chair,  one  hand  pressed  to  the  desk  with  the  other  already  holding  his  wand  out  to  the  door.  Not  even  a  freaking  knock,  rude  bastards.  That’s  what  he  had  convinced  himself  of  by  now.    “I  told  ye  to  introduce  yourself  when  coming  into  a  room.”  He’d  make  it  a  freaking  law  if  he  could,  but  even  as  his  shoulders  were  lax  the  wand  stayed  pointed  outwards.  “Do  ye  think  I’m  holding  office  hours  or  something?”  The  edge  was  gone,  and  he  quickly  flicked  his  wand  downwards  rolling  the  map  and  enchanting  it’s  space  back  to  the  drawer.  “Come  back  later,  please.” @antemortemstarters​

[lovencharity]

open to anyone

a quick contract signing for her first flat at a cafe` in diagon alley

It  was  a  little  place,  nestled  into  a  corner  in  East  London.  Through  the  glamour  there  were  a  few  more  buildings  and  flats  that  would  meet  the  muggle  eye.  It  was  a  find  beyond  anything  else  and  all  she  could  think  was  showing  it  to  her  mum,  her  dad,  to  Alice,  to  Emmeline  -  but  she  wanted  it  to  be  ready  first.  “There’s  only  a  few  weeks  left  in  the  semester.”  She  signed  off  on  the  parchment,  making  the  third  floor  second  door  on  the  right  her  own  space  -  speaking  to  the  little  notary  who  would  send  it  off  with  an  owl.  Something  less  nomadic  settled  in  her,  but  made  her  wonder  how  long  she  could  last  like  that.  Silence  settled  over  while  the  clerk  went  back  to  work  and  she  was  aware  of  someone  behind  her.  “It’s  usually  impolite  to  listen  in  on  property  developments.”  And  of  course,  she  didn’t  want  any  old  person  knowing  she’d  finally  chosen  somewhere  solid  for  her  time  outside  of  Hogwarts. “But  it’s  usually  a congratulatory  moment.” @antemortemstarters​

[nottspells]

@antemortemstarters​

“what? don’t look at me like that,” the witch grumbled, wiping the dust off her hands after placing a crate full of what looked like some creatures’ manure, she hadn’t bothered to ask. it definitely smelled foul but pandora had blocked the senses in her nose with a quick flick of her wand at the beginning of the shift. she was helping out at dogweed and deathcap for the day, in exchange for some galleons, another measly gig. labour work, something her mother would screech at, she had smiled amusedly at the thought.

“it’s good pay, really,” she justified as she kicked the crate into its designated slot. spellcrafting, or spell innovating as pandora liked to call it, was a slow process. she hasn’t been successful in her attempts but she will be, soon, she can feel it!

[mctavishy]

@antemortemstarters​

tarquin had made the dumb decision of picking up two consecutive shifts at the three broomsticks ; he needed the money, but the lack of sleep was getting to him. and for some reason, the pub was as packed in the early morning as it was last night. “ mate, can you order something.. i don’t know, today? “ man, were people picky when it came to breakfast. 

[peterparlak]

@antemortemstarters​

where: ​the leaky cauldron.

peter had finished his shift and found himself wondering around london before he finally settled on the leaky cauldron, things have been... bad lately, and he didn’t know where his mind was half of the time. if he wasn’t at work then he found himself at the ministry eavesdropping on conversations just to get any tiny hint of sirius and where he could possibly be, it was like looking for a needle in a haystack at this point, unsure of where his best friend was, and why he wouldn’t say anything to his best friends? peter knew that he couldn’t fault him for it, merlin knew that he had his own secrets but he was worried and the only way he knew how to show it was by doing his own research but all the questions he tried to answer came up to nothing. “can i just get a pint, please?” he asks the bartender, he hadn’t eaten much today, his worry eating him alive more than anything. he had looked around the pub as if by some hope sirius would just show up, that this had all been some misunderstanding. he can see the person sitting next to him reading the daily prophet, regulus black’s face plastered over the front cover, he hadn’t realized how long he had been staring at the patron until they had made a snide comment, “easy mate,” peter says with a scoff, “bunch of rubbish anyway,” grabbing his beer and taking a long drink of it.