#far-from-wilted

[atwistedoldfriend]

Let’s Spend the Night Together ||Lily & Old Friend

Location: Potter Home, Richmond Date: April 2nd, 1980 Time: Around 9:00 PM

As much as he used his connection with the Death Eaters as a cover, Evan sometimes avoided the association. He was more than a mere follower of Voldemort, and he wanted to be certain that his victim understood that as well. The idea that everything scary and dark could be attributed to that lone wizard was ridiculous. Unfortunately, he wasn’t ready to unveil his mushroom garden. He wanted to let MacDonald start to relax again before he gave her another show. It always drove the spike of fear higher when someone thought they’d escaped something sinister only to discover it had been there all along.

Which meant he needed to find something else to fill his time and ease his growing tension. As it turned out, the solution to his dilemma presented itself in the form of Lily Potter. He’d almost forgot about the chit, though he felt the lapse could be forgiven when one considered all that had happened in the last few months. He’d watched her exit the lift one day at the ministry, little hand resting protectively on her swelling middle and a bright smile on her lips as she chatted with the auror beside her, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

First, he’d indulged himself with a foray into his memory collection, reliving the night he’d broken into her pathetic little flat and tortured her. Her silent screams had been surprisingly invigorating, but now he knew exactly what he wanted, and so he’d started following her—a necessity since she had moved. However, after almost a week of trailing, he was no closer to figuring out where she lived. He was starting to think he’d just have to kidnap her (which wasn’t unappealing) when he happened across Potter, Black, and Pettigrew. He’d forgotten that the sniveling little worm that was forever babbling pedantic praise when with the Dark Lord was friends with the Potters.

That had been almost a week ago. Now he stood in the shadows of a neighboring townhouse watching the house where he’d seen more than a few familiar faces pass by. Most important, he’d watched Lily Potter enter shortly before James Potter had exited. She was alone, and the sun had disappeared almost half an hour before. He’d watched the sky’s brilliant hues dim, the brilliant wash of blues, golds, and pinks fading into a bruised purple until at last, darkness had claimed dominance.  

Gut churning with eagerness, Evan checked his time piece. James had been out to all hours, no doubt patrolling or whatever nonsense the order told themselves they were pursuing to protect one another from the Death Eaters. It had been almost five before the young man had arrived the night before, so he was confident that he’d have at least a few hours of entertainment before he needed to worry about vacating the premise.

Pulling out the mask that was a cross between a Venetian mask and his death eater mask, he slid the rose adorned skull over his features, and smiled. He’d debated the roses, but ultimately, he’d been unable to resist that little claim. It was a taunt in and of itself, and since most of his victims ended up dead, it didn’t really matter what connections they made. Cloaked, and protected by the deepening shadows, he finally apparated to the side of the house. There was not so much as a whisper of noise—a fact that he was even more proud of. Silent apparition took effort, and it had literally taken him years to manage it.

Sneaking around to the back, he sidled along the house, pressing in close and then lifting his wand to amplify the sound within the house. He listened as Lily rustled about within and smiled, anticipation making his blood rush with excitement. Forcing himself to pause, he focused on wrapping a few wards around the house. One to warn him of someone else’s arrival, and a second to muffle sound. He’d put another sound cancelling spell up around whatever room their activities ended up taking place in, but he was nothing if not cautious. Finally, he crept to the window by the door to peer in, trying to gage where Lily had disappeared to into the house so that he could plan his final approach…

[vermiculus-incipiens]

VI Quote of the Week:

There were some things Lily liked to keep separate when it came to her Muggle and Magical lives. Although she was a strong advocate of supporting and mixing the two - especially under the growing scrutiny and hostility on such a combination that bubbled from the times - she often sought to abandon magical abilities to keep herself grounded. Surprised. Humbled.                -- far-from-wilted, Of Nursery Rhymes and Jumping to Conclusions

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“I don’t know that confused old ladies would want to write to me for advice,” Mary shook her head, laughing. The amusement on Edgar’s face showed that he had a specific idea in mind, though that clearly made the idea more humorous than it was to her. “I’d probably have to pretend to be a wise old lady myself just to get people to listen to me.” Otherwise who would take her seriously?                                                                                -- imarymac, Researchable

“Well, I hope your business went well, then. I do hope Professor Dumbledore isn’t in trouble,” she laughed. Then regretted it. Why on Earth would Professor Dumbledore be in trouble? And who would laugh at that! She really needed to get herself under control, if Alastor Moody had business with Dumbledore that would bring him to Hogwarts often, she’d have to get over her nerves at being near him.                                                          -- charity-h-burbage, Sort-Of Acquainted

Before she could ask, though, Sirius had shifted the subject to exercising, of all things. There was a smirk on his face that she didn’t really understand, but she was relieved enough that he seemed to be in a better mood that she didn’t question it. “Um, no jumping jacks, no,” she told him a little uncertainly. “I’ve, er, really just been studying mostly. Exams are coming up quick, and all.”                                                                         -- perennialgrace, On the Case

[vermiculus-incipiens]

VI Quote of the Week:

A troop of excuses paraded across his brain. I got into a fight. I wrestled with a tiger. I fell down the stairs. It’s make-up, for a play I’m part of. I was drunk. I was high. This isn’t me, it’s my evil twin. Each more bizarre and unlikely than the last. He knew there was no way around the redhead, and had to turn into his classic, old resource: vague lying.                                                            -- the-wolf-within, These Aching Bones

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”Are we used to wands at our throats, or should I be offended at your blasé response?” she mused back, allowing her wand to fall a few inches but no more. Normal people flinched when a wand was too close for comfort. Decent people would be aghast. Manners were the first thing to go in situations like this.                                                   -- hostilegazelle, Last Dance With Mary Jane

“What, like you don’t like Hephaestus? I’m really offended! Perhaps Sagittarius, keep the Divination teacher blubbering about bright futures. Set him up to get great grades already with a name like that.” She huffed, struggling to keep a straight face. “S’just Mum who loved floral names. She’d have begged our kid to be named Violet or even Peony or Rosie to keep a garden growing of her relatives.” She tilted her head, grinning nostalgically at that. Her parents would’ve been thrilled they were having a boy. It was a shame the Evanses would never meet her child, nor Petunia’s- she was expecting, so Lily had heard.                -- far-from-wilted, Of Nursery Rhymes and Jumping to Conclusions

There was more to be done though, including checking the plants she hadn’t yet. It was mid-afternoon now but, having spent a good part of the evening back at St Mungus, it made some sense her day started just now. Eventually she went through the right rooms of the little apartment, mostly enlarged through the use of spells. Her face was the last thing she took care of, washing it twice and tying her hair up. “Plants, check. Silver, check. Eggs… half-checked. Sending those letters, to be done. What am I missing?“ Clicking her tongue rather than saying all of it out loud, Emmeline went through the mental list before sighing at the sight of the burned eggs. Not at all a bad cook, but rather distracted that afternoon, she wasn’t at all surprised - at least it didn’t take much to throw it away as it did to try cooking. Finally she resorted to magic, making a tea and walking with the cup to her sofa.                                                                    -- emmelinevrp, Pride of Hufflepuff

[vermiculus-incipiens]

VI Quote of the Week:

It followed Padfoot across the forest. The earth felt wonderful under Its powerful paws, Its claws digging into the pebbles. A million scents reached Its snout, sending a shock of information to Its brain. It could hear the conversations between the wind and the trees, the lullaby a mother rabbit sang to her babies under the ground. It could also see as clear as Remus did during the day, but It did not need the sun. It had Its grey wolf eyes and the Mother Moon to guide It. With a yelp of joy, It raised Its face to the skies and sang Its song, the song of the wolf, the Howling.                                                           -- the-wolf-within, Running With Wolves

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Lily was pregnant. The positive test concealed in her sock drawer confirmed it. Far from being able to feel the energy of another human kicking inside of her - the thing wasn’t any larger than a bean, she surmised, but she wondered if this little seed was already observant of its mother’s behaviour. Was the baby laughing at this situation, already? Coming into the world with a mum who spent her days and nights burning the candle at both ends, pouring over frantic news reports, chasing after the wicked so they could be carried away and locked in the shadows. And a father with a stubborn tenacity, with the laugh that shook their small townhouse, who tried to find his old immortal mentality despite the world shrinking and crumbling around them.                                                                              -- far-from-wilted, Big News

When we perceive the world around us, take in experiences through our five senses, that information is translated and interpreted by our brains. Now who’s to say what you perceive and how your brain interprets your experiences are the same thing? The world will continue to spin and things will continue to change, but our brains are very slow at keeping up.                                                                              -- strikes-goyle, Tea Leaves

Alecto’s responses were full of carefully measured words, a quiet politeness about her that spoke volumes.  In many ways, she was as Narcissa had been - told what to do and when, how to behave and react, how to speak and when to nod politely.  It was what they were all taught, from when they were old enough to sit at a table. Showing off how well-behaved and educated one’s child was was practically a sport in Pureblooded society, one in which Narcissa had certainly been a participant.                                                          -- forever-toujourspur, Five O’Clock Tea

[notlibatiusborage]

The Field Between Wrongdoing and Rightdoing||Lily and Severus||Between battles(April 1980)

Hogsmeade was a nice enough village.boring now that he was used to wizarding London, but nice enough all the same.

He wasn't here to admire the thatched houses though. He needed to get into that castle, looming in the hills like some ancient prison. He had access for his interview now but he needed to make sure he got the job. That was why he had been very careful about what he applied for. The open positions had thankfully suited him well. If Professor Sprout been planning to retire he would have been buggered. He had always had issues in practical herbology, and women named for plants seemed to hate him eventually if not at first sight too.

Speaking of which…He stopped and nearly had a young witch on a kiddy broom fly into the back of him. Her parents grumbled and her father shouted something about people stopping on the pavement, but Severus no longer had the vim left to retort. He was staring at a shade of red hair that he knew far too well on a witch no more that ten feet in front of him.

Perhaps it wasn’t too late to turn back and walk into the safe-ish shadows of a side street and then to run back to his rooms at the Hogs head. He looked at the reflection in the window display, just for a glimpse of her green eyes. He got a full beam. Direct eye contact. And though she was far from  Medusa, Severus was now standing still as a stone statue.

Say something, Stupid. You stick out, you’re suspicious, she’s going to think you’re stalking her.

 “ah…Lil- Lily. It’s been some time…what are you doing in Hogsmeade?"