#lovelinesstarter

[tedblack-soulmate-blog]

Little Teapots || Ted & Open

Ted didn’t pretend he lived an easy life, he didn’t pretend anyone lived an easy life. The act of simply breathing and getting out of bed and facing the harsh, cruel reality of living - especially living in a war torn community - took a great deal of strength. The one thing that made things better, well, the thing that made things better most of all was smoking, but he had kicked that habit when Andromeda had gotten pregnant and, despite his recent relapse, he wasn’t about to start again. He valued his daughter’s lungs more than his own stress levels. But other than cigarettes was tea. A nice cup of strong black tea never failed to ease his breathing and calm his mind. It was doubly nice because it was a treat he could share with his whole family. At just five little Dora had already decided that tea was undoubtedly her favorite drink in the world. Unfortunately this also meant that she took the initiave to make her own tea. Often. Resulting in the smashing of no fewer than four teapots beyond magical repair in the past week. Sometimes he truly wondered how she could be so clumsy.

It was this need to for new teapots that led him to Diagon Alley today. He had the morning free from appointments and Andromeda had had a breakfast with some friends so Ted had taken Dora on a field trip. Their mission was clear: find the largest, most unbreakable teapot in the little shop and buy eight. At Dora’s insistence another condition was added to the mission: the teapot had to be beautiful. Ted was looking at a steel pot with a homey, almost sloppy, painting of flowers on the side when he heard someone sniff as though they were offended. He ignored it. Someone had probably just seen Dora rub her nose against a glass display case and wondered why children were legally allowed in public. As an older brother and now a father he was used to people disapproving of children for being children and he made a point to ignore it. She wasn’t causing anyone harm.

“Hey nighean, what do you think of this one?” He asked looking behind him where he had left Dora staring at a display of teacups only to find the toddler gone. Shrugging a bit, not too worried, he began to look around the little shop for his small daughter. Glancing down one of the wider aisles he winced as he watched Dora turn a cartwheel, too late to stop her. Heaving a sigh of relief that she didn’t manage to break anything he approached her only to see she had landed her cartwheel right at the feet of someone. 

“Think you might want to apologize, dear?” Ted hissed at her with a chuckle, squeezing her shoulder. “And in English, yeah?”

He looked up with an apologetic half-smile. “Sorry, you know how kids get, I’m sure.”

[inamatus-black]

Take Five | Sirius + ?

Sirius had stayed quiet for a few days. it wouldn't have been his first choice of plan but he had no wish to be accosted in the street by someone who had been present at that Malfoy dinner. He didn't know how much Emmeline or Mary had told their hosts and a few days hanging around his apartment seemed a small price to pay for not being attacked or something equally ridiculous, like being arrested. Still, confinement wasn't easy for Sirius and it was with a gleeful kind of joy that he returned to the real world. Icecream from Diagon Alley seemed a childish first stop but who was going to stop him?

Two chocolate scoops later and he was standing outside Fortescue's place. It may have seemed like he was totally engrossed in his treat but Sirius knew he couldn't afford to let his guard down especially now, and even here.

[boxed-in-black-blog]

Ursa Minor | Open

There was a fullness to his lip, hot and over sensitive that Regulus realized he should probably charm away but it was late and he couldn't be bothered. Hours ago Regulus had stepped into an unmarked townhouse in Knockturn. Now he stepped right back out with a fat lip he'd almost bitten through himself. He walked a few feet, and then lingered by the doorway of The Starry Prophesier.

Further down there were still signs up that said mind your step from the explosion weeks before. It wasn't like he was curse shy, of course, but the closer he stepped the sharper he tasted smoke and felt a memory of many people jostling one another--looking for loved ones or just searching out what had happened.

For the first time in weeks he felt clear-headed, wired and relaxed--but even still he couldn’t quite make out what the point was. There was no pattern, no rhyme or reason--not for the explosion, not for the attack on Malfoy Manor--and Regulus knew there had to be both. 

Which meant he had to check out what was left of the rubble--which he did, lighting a wand and lifting it above his head with little enthusiasm. 

[magnificentmeadowes]

Books are a uniquely portable magic | Dorcas & Open

Dorcas stepped out of the bright light of Diagon Alley, and into the cooler, darker interior of Flourish and Blotts. She took a deep breath, inhaling the musky smells of a room full of books. As long as you didn't go into the shop in the last few weeks before the students returned to school, there was an almost reverent hush amongst the shelves.. It was as though people automatically whispered when in the presence of books.

She took a few steps forwards, reaching her hand to run her fingers gently along the spines on the shelf nearest to the door. The shop always reminded her of times at Hogwarts, when she would just stay in the library, hidden amongst the shelves, breathing in the smells of the hundreds and hundreds of old books. The library was one of the things she missed most about Hogwarts.. Having that many books within reach.

Dorcas’ eyes were on the shelves as she wandered up the shop, examining the titles for something that jumped out at her.. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, exactly, just that she wanted something new.. Something she hadn't read before.

The door behind her opened, startling her slightly. She had been focused on the books in front of her.. She glanced over her shoulder at the person who had entered the shop.

[inamatus-black]

Gotta Get Away | Sirius + ??

Sirius was sore and exhausted but he needed to get out of Malfoy manor. The nausea from whatever spell Emmeline had hit him with had mostly worn off but he still couldn't move very fast. Apparating wasn't an option even if the wards permitted. which he doubted very much given that if the manor wasn't already on high alert, they probably would be soon.

Emmeline was no doubt on her way to tell all the Death Eaters about the intruders (mainly: Sirius, but possibly also Remus) and if she didn't alert them to a presence inside the manor, the guest that Sirius had stunned would probably tip somebody off. The poor fellow had had the misfortune of hearing the racket that Sirius and Emmeline had made, and had stupidly come to investigate. He had also been unlucky in the fact that Sirius had been able to point a wand by the time the door had opened and well -- now he was lying stunned on the floor upstairs.

Sirius had made it to the bottom of the staircase before he had to stop and throw up. He didn't feel too bad about it; no doubt the Malfoys wouldn't even have to clean the floor themselves. Then he pushed himself forward and back down the hallway that he and Remus had taken from the kitchen. He hoped that Remus was alright. He hoped that James didn't have another reason to punch him when this was all over.

He tried not to think about how he'd failed as he shuffled down the hallway, one hand sliding along the wall to keep him upright and centred. All that effort and he hadn't even managed to kill Emmeline in the end. This whole thing had been a waste of time -- but at least he'd made it to the kitchen now, which meant that the exit was close. Sirius was so focused on that thought that he didn't bother to check if anyone was in the kitchen before he opened the door and stumbled in.

[boxed-in-black-blog]

Hide and Seek | Regulus + Open

You have got to be kidding, Regulus thought as he took the second floor. Its like some sort of messed up game. Peek-a-boo.

These things, Reuglus believed, never happened when Peter was around. Of course, that was more because no one really considered breaking into an occupied Death Eater home a good idea. Narcissa's manor (because it was hers, by this point, no matter whose last name was attached) wasn't even a good strategic choice. Peter Pettigrew: had nothing to do with anything before death and possibly everything to do with it after.

Still, at least it got them out of the drawing room and small talk. Regulus turned a corner and kicked open a door. It was probably a false alarm anyway.

[sweetgentlemary]

Every breath seems far too loud || Mary/Open

He’d been keeping her close all night. Which wasn’t necessarily what she was used to, recently. Julius in a good mood was becoming a rarer and rarer sight. Tonight, though, he had her by his side, an arm thrown over her shoulder, a hand resting possessively on her thigh, fingers running idly through her hair. He wasn’t really paying attention to her. He didn’t speak to her, and everyone else at the gathering followed suit, ignoring her like she was just some accessory of his, barely sparing her a second glance. The most she’d gotten was the ghost of a smile from Severus Snape, gone as soon as she’d recognized it, and a few moments of empty conversation from Narcissa while Julius and Lucius talked of their 

She should be pleased. She should be glad that he wanted her with him instead of leaving her at home or banishing her out into the hallway to wait for things to be over. But all Mary was feeling was suffocated. She hated this type of meeting; all it ended up being was a stark reminder of what exactly it was that her Soulmate did. The other Death Eaters weren’t being at all considerate of her presence. They were talking about their exploits as if she wasn’t there. She hated it, hated hearing about all the pain that they caused. As soon as she could, she slipped out into the hall, taking a moment to breathe, wandering quietly away from the festivities far enough that she could pretend, just for a minute, that the man she was in love with wasn’t talking about all the people he’d hurt, tortured, killed. 

[boxed-in-black-blog]

It Isn’t Tea | Regulus + Open

Regulus hate dinner meetings. They dragged. teetering and tittering on about thing without any resolution: he had a hard time understanding the use of circling around the same topic without doing anything. There was no climax to them--dinner went into quiet conversations and drinking. Drinking moved towards louder talking.

Sometimes it finally came to a head--someone demanded entertainment, someone demanded fun. Somewhere in the countryside a muggle house would be targeted or, more rarely, a muggleborn. These Regulus almost thought were better because afterwards he could safely leave the party without any concern of causing a stir. 

The other parties were quieter affairs and leaving too early implied a great deal of things that Regulus had never been able to navigate successfully. He most often attempted to claim flu after too many circular conversations. 

He never saw the irony of his own distaste for having the same conversation over and over again.

This time it seemed to be the latter so after dinner Regulus resigned himself to being trapped and settled to the side of a heavy leather bound chair to pretend to consider different types of tobacco. Regulus never tried it, didn’t think he would now, but it was easier to settle his hands by twisting open tins of fine shag tobacco. 

While muggles in England were still forced to have only English Blend without additives, the magical world had long since begun splicing their tobacco with anything from dittany to Niffler's fancy. Orion, Regulus remembered vaguely, had preferred tobacco laced with Valerian and something else. In the evenings, sometimes during the day, he’d smoke and for a while the lines in his face would ease.

Regulus opened one tin and sniffed. He put it down and opened the next, then the next. Each was very much high quality. Each one slightly different. A hint of lavender here, something nutty and orange in the other. He opened and set down one after another--seven in all.