#gravedirector

[childstolen]

@gravedirector

“Percival...”

Her eyes were so red from all the tears she had cried for a day straight now and dark circles revealed to anyone who saw her that she had had no sleep whatsoever. In thismoment she was running on nothing, her appetite was completely gone and all she could think about was getting her son back.

Evelyn wouldn’t have come to him unless it was an absolute emergency and from the distressed and despereate expression on her face, one could say that it was exactly that. 

“I didn’t know where else to go, please you must help me! She took my four year old son, a no maj took my son and I can’t find them! I can’t find my son, please help me, Percival, I beg you! I will do anything but please find my boy, I can’t lose him, I won’t be able to survive losing him!”

Her son was her everything, she had always one everything in her power to ensure that her son had everything a small boy needed, had always strived to make him as happy as her somewhat meager means allowed it.  He was the only person she had left, she had no one else and she wouldn’t be able to bear losing him after already losing so many people.

[childstolen]

“Impressive duelling, Graves, makes one wonder how on earth people still dare to challenge you.”

Evelyn would do it, if she had the chance. If she was allowed. But she wasn’t. No, she was to keep her head down and to pretend to be nearly a squib when in fact she could do so much more than her peers. Of course she excelled academically, in theoretical work, which didn’t go unnoticed. It was when practice came around that she had to pretend to have the magical ability of doorknob. 

“What is this, your one thousandth victory?”

@gravedirector liked for an ilvvermorny starter

[childstolen]

@gravedirector liked for a starter

“Are you Mr. Graves? I was told to come here for the kidnapping of my son.”

Evelyn was highly skeptical of working with MACUSA She was in fact skeptical of all government institutions because they had all promised to find her son and no one had ever kept that promise. In the end it was she herself to ended up tracing every single lead she had, no matter how small. She would die first before she would give up on finding her son, she would continue her search until she had drawn her very last breath.

“I have been looking for my child for over a decade, if you cannot help me, please tell me straight away so that I can continue searching myself.”

She wouldn’t let any precious time be wasted, every second she was here, she could be running into her child. Her time truly was more precious than anyone else’s.

[immcvable]

@gravedirector

Magnus can’t really remember what happened, it’s all a blur, but when he does wake up from the strange blurry dream, he feels a deep ache in his bones. He’s so very tired. But why? Is him being tired the reason he’s in a hospital? Because it’s definitely the hospital.

His blue eyes soon find his uncle at his bedside and his whole face practically lights up. 

“Uncle...” His voice is weak and raspy, and he ends up coughing despite trying to continue.

[madamgraves-blog]

“I already told you. My name is    Percy Graves.” she was growing    more and more frustrated by the    minute. @gravedirector

[madamgraves-blog]

These starters have been saved and will be posted accordingly! @grxndrexper @gravedirector @henryxjekyll @bowtiesysouffles @aconstantvigilance @musicidesquad @doyouthinkimafreak

[ofgrcves-blog]

@gravedirector

He’d be lying if he said the sound of the door slamming open hadn’t startled him. Dark brown eyes turned up from the paper work on his desk, to meet the near identical gaze of his older brother. “I could’ve sworn mother taught us to knock before entering an occupied room. Clearly it didn’t stick with you.” 

Leaning back in his seat, Pelias raised a dark brow at the older man. “Any reason you decided to slam the door open or were you aiming to give me a minor heart attack?”

[trudieollivander-blog]

gravedirector liked this starter call!

"Yes, I know it's Christmas Eve, and I know it's snowing heavily, but I have a boggart loose in my apartment and...” Trudie fell silent for a moment, trying to recompose herself; asking for help was always difficult for her, mortifying, actually. “Could you please...? I’d do it myself but... For a squib it’s not... Just that easy.”