#obtstarter

[simply-harrypotter]

Hunter & Hunted | Soirée | Romain + Harry

He'd told Ginny that he was too busy with work to attend Daphne Greengrass' party thing as her date. Not to mention he was never given an invitation. It had been the truth and still is. With the Blood Moon upon them, it's imperative that the risk of uncontrolled werewolves such as the elusive pack of French wolves be apprehended before too many innocent lives fall prey to their vicious pursuits. Harry has been doggedly tracking word of Les Loups de Justes for several days now and despite his claim of not being anywhere near the Greengrass soirée, the former Gryffindor now finds himself on the outskirts of the very family's estate, greatly underdressed and unprepared to mingle with strangers.

But his tracking has lead him here and Harry isn't going to sacrifice the progress he's made simply because a host of his former classmates are in the area. If anything, he is more determined to put a halt to this terrorist pack's plans, whatever they may be, before people he cares for end up harmed in the crossfire.

Harry stands on the lawn, staring at the opulent manor and tugging at the hem of his ill-fitting yet comfortable shirt. He'd already shed his auror robes before entering the property. There's no reason to disturb the rest of the guests by storming in wearing his robes. Besides, there's every chance that his trail to this soirée will all be for naught; the wolves may be nowhere on the premises.

A heavy sigh escapes Harry's lips before he strides around back to find a secondary entrance to Daphne Greengrass' manor. Chances are the front will be attended by servants waiting for him to hand over an invitation he doesn't have. Thankfully the door to the kitchens is accessible and easily freed with a swift spell. The help in the kitchens stare at him as he enters but Harry just casts a small apologetic smile and rushes through until he's out. He's unable to miss how they all begin to whisper his name to one another. He only hopes word doesn't travel too quickly.

Harry stops just before entering the main attraction. He'll stick out like a sore thumb in his current sagging jeans and shirt. Though his proficiency at Transfiguration is lacking, Harry points his wand at his chest and hopes he doesn't accidentally magic himself a second skin instead of a dress shirt.

The resulting attire doesn't quite fit him. tight in too many places. The dress shirt is missing a few buttons and the sleeves are of decidedly different lengths. However, it works well enough so long as no one has time to look at him too closely. The trousers aren't much better but again, he wants to blend in long enough to confirm whether Romain or one of his pack members are in attendance.

With uncertainty wriggling uncomfortably in his bones, Harry steps into the ballroom and makes his way around the edges of the party, avoiding eye contact but feigning a smile for any curious onlookers. Harry hopes that the leader, if he's present, is easily noticeable among the guests. However, he knows that in order to get a good sense of potential werewolves, he'll have to make his presence known eventually. But for right now, Harry sticks to evasion while he gets a sense of the people, noting the potential entrances and exits, the servants slipping between knots of guests deep in conversation or dancing together. Sizing up all the possible ways this could play itself out, if it comes to fruition at all, quickly zip through Harry's Auror brain with every foot fall.

[simply-harrypotter]

The Olive Branch ; Draco + Harry

There's nothing else to it. He simply needs to suck it up and do it. Harry stares at the wand in the tiny mirror cupboard of the ground floor toilet. No one ever uses this toilet, considering there are perfectly good ones for he and his roommates to use upstairs. Even still, Harry had cast a concealment spell on Draco Malfoy's Hawthorne wand in the event someone gets curious as they make an emergency bathroom break. Staring at the simple piece of wood, Harry has to wonder why he's taken over a year to return it to its rightful owner. Thanks to breaking the Elder Wand, Draco's wand is useless as a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands. Given he'd become master of it after wrestling it from the Slytherin's grasp, it may not even work for the other man as it once did. Yet Harry must admit to himself that a large part of him simply didn't want to grand Draco a reprieve. The git doesn't deserve his wand back after all the wrongs he'd done against he and his friends. Surely he can get on just fine without it. So far the blond haired prat hasn't made any attempt to reclaim his possession. He may not even want the thing. Harry knows it's useless to hold on to a petty childish grudge. It was thanks to Draco and his mother, Mrs Malfoy, that Harry was successful at defeating Voldemort. He owes them life debts for it, no matter how he tries to spin it to himself. Even Draco's father assisted in the initial arrests of Death Eaters and active supporters, though Harry doubts Lucius did so with any honest repentance for his crimes. Even if he did do it to save is own arse and try redeeming his family if only marginally, it was something. Harry can't just ignore something. The former Gryffindor snatches the wand from its resting place, gripping it with the determination only one from his house could possess. It's now or never. It's better to be a year too late than never doing right by the Malfoys at all. The trip to Wiltshire is without incident. In the back of Harry's mind he knows he could be doing other things with his time. Like tracking potential leads on the whereabouts of Romain and his pack. Trouble is, he's come up empty so far and considering this is technically a day off for him, Harry needs to do something to make himself feel useful. This plan of his has to suffice. Harry strides through the gates of Malfoy Manor, not without difficulty. The last time he was here, he had to listen to the screams of his best friend as she was tortured by Draco's aunt. No doubt Hermione would be greatly perturbed if she knew of his visit to this particular home but he'd chosen not to inform anyone of his intentions. It wasn't like he'd thought very long about it before leaving. The white peacocks seem to be missing from the lawn. The manor itself feels empty, despondent. Harry finds himself at the front entrance and knocks, half hoping he doesn't get an answer.

[simply-harrypotter]

Dining In ; Ginny + Harry

It's a rare day off for Harry and he does his best to appreciate that. Ginny's at training and that's a safe place for her to be. There's no need to worry himself over it. Yet despite his attempts at fully relaxing, there's an edge of tension lining his muscles. Teddy is cheerful, despite his godfather's tension and as long as Harry doesn't have too long to slip into his thoughts, it's not terrible. The Blood Moon, the werewolves still not accounted for, namely Romain and his French pack remaining too elusive; it all lingers at the back of his thoughts as he engages Teddy in a game of make-believe with his toys.

Harry had nearly forgotten about his agreed upon plans with Ginny for the evening. It's when Molly stops by to pick Teddy up that he's freshly reminded of the alone time he's about to have with his girlfriend.

"Thanks for taking him," Harry says with a gentle smile as he passes Teddy into Molly Weasley's waiting arms.

"It's no trouble at all, Harry. You know that," she admonishes with a wide smile. "You just enjoy your time with Ginny, dear. Thank you for always keeping her safe for us."

Harry nods and smiles. It's what he does. Keeping people safe. Even now with the war behind them, he's committed to it, whether he always enjoys doing so or not. Ginny is another person in his life he needs to protect and he would be letting down more than just himself if he failed to do just that.

With the flat finally vacant of anyone but himself, Harry decides to do some of the dishes that have collected thanks to he and his friends. It's much easier to keep himself busy until Ginny arrives rather than sit and contemplate too much.

[ms-ginnyweasley-blog1]

A Weasley at the Greengrass estate

Ginny had tried to contact Blaise Zabini several times over the past few days, without any luck. It had been several days since their run-in with the werewolf from Les Loupes Justes. Several days since Zabini had been bitten, and had run off before she could get him the help he so desperately needed. Had run off after suffering a werewolf bite that should have been lethal. For almost a full day, Ginny had blamed herself for what had happened, had felt that she was somehow responsible for Zabini's fate. But after playing the events in her head over and over again, she had come to the conclusion that none of it had been her fault. They had simply been at the same place at the same time, and if she had not been there, Zabini might still have been attacked. If anything, she had saved him from dying; she had, after all, apparated him away from a blood-thirsty werewolf. And therefore, she felt like she deserved to know what the hell had happened. 

The invitation the Summer Solstice party at the Greengrass house was something she normally would have scoffed at before tossing it in the garbage. But now, it could not have come at a more convenient time, even with the accompanying note that made it all too clear that, even though she had received an invitation, Ginny was not welcome at the event.  Not that she cared. This was her best chance of cornering Zabini without him being able to avoid her. So that was why she could be found walking up towards the Greengrass estate that night, Not wanting to purchase a new dress for a party she didn't even want to go to, she was wearing a dark green dress she had gotten for the Harpies gala at the beginning of the season, She had however, splurged on a mask, which is something she didn't just have lying around in her closet, unlike the Slytherins attending tonight.  Not that the mask would do her much good, which became obvious to her when she entered the garden. Her red hair (which was styled to fall over her shoulders in soft curls) stood out like a sore thumb.  Looking around the garden, Ginny was already regretting coming here. She barely recognized anyone, and the people she did recognize, she despised. She grabbed a flute of champagne from a floating tray, sipping slowly as her eyes darted over the crowd, trying to spot Zabini amongst them.

[loosenthenott]

Mor -- Morag, I swear, you're not going to regret this. Come with me!

[laurelwreathedserpent]

"Oh -- welcome!"

"I'm a little surprised to see you here, I must admit." 

[weasley-rb]

unwind and rewind ♞ ( percy & ron )

Between long work shifts at the joke shop, watching the ever-energetic Teddy Lupin, and avoiding the one person who would never ever in a thousand years hear an apology tumble from his lips, Ron was looking for more excuses to stay away from Grimmauld Place -- at least until curfew arrived. The chances to be caught by Aurors seemed impossibly low anyway, given the sheer size of the territory of the Ministry's jurisdiction, but his illegal operation begged to err on the side of caution. Besides, Ginny already ruined it with her arrest; it wasn't like Harry could keep bailing them out without reaping the consequences of doing so. Ron had to get creative, at any rate. The Leaky Cauldron was still a sworn off haunt, as well as the rest of the desolate alley, so Muggle London it was. Thinking back to the conversation with Percy, the one where he promised he would show him the anonymity of Muggle pubs with loud banter and hearty laughs, it would be a perfect opportunity to take advantage of this week. Pig was more than happy to deliver the request, so the feathery git could annoy his brother for the time being. If his brother managed to pull himself away from work in a timely fashion, of course. The Ministry seemed like it was in utter chaos, so Ron could let it slide this time -- so long as Percy accepted the offer.

The sun chased away the shadows for now; curfew was plenty of hours away, even with the tardiness of the get-together. The Leaky Cauldron was usually patronized in the mid-to-late afternoon, since an after-work pint did loads to pep him up. Additionally, he was tempted to raid the cabinets for something to eat before going out (Ron was absolutely famished) but filling up on greasy Muggle food was a much more exciting prospect. For this, and the opportunity to loosen up his tightly-wound brother, Ron was sitting on the curb (closer to 13 Grimmauld Place than 11) at the very punctual time that was arranged between the two of them. London's weather was decent, as it was pleasantly warm and not a drop of rain in sight. He donned the appropriate attire, both weather and Muggle-wise: his Muggle garb consisted of blue jeans, a t-shirt with a Union Jack design on it, and black Converse shoes. He blended, he thought, though Percy was the one that stood out. Reserved, prudent, and bookish, he was more like Hermione than he or Ginny -- making Percy a good target when the twins got bored of playing tricks on him. But it was a good sort of different, though it made all the more difficult to extract details of certain subjects.

Once Percy arrived, they would head two blocks north and three blocks east to Rourke's -- Apparating would take longer than walking, with what the many Muggles meandering about.

[laurelwreathedserpent]

in vino veritas | daphne + draco

After she'd gotten Blaise to his place, Daphne had gone home and taken a bath. A long, luxurious bath with perfumed bubbly foam scented with eucalyptus and mint - they were known to relieve stress and with the Zabini heir's latest misadventures the brunette was in dire need of the relief. All those damned letters to the editor weren't written frivolously - the Greengrass girl genuinely believed her words. Werewolves were threats to society; and now it seemed she'd lost her friend to the sickness.

Once the fleshy pads of her fingers had turned wrinkly - nothing proper moisturizing lotion wouldn't fix - the pureblood stepped out of the bath, calling out for her elf and ordering the creature to clean the tub and floor. Her hair was still damp, so while waiting for her tresses to dry, Daphne wore her favorite soft, cotton nightie and situated herself at her desk to pen a note to the only person she trusted with Blaise's rather delicate situation. Then, after brushing her locks and braiding them, she settled herself into her large four poster bed and turned out the lights. The letter would be sent in the morning (though she was mildly annoyed that the turmoil Zabini had caused wasn't allowing her to fall asleep as quickly as she normally did.

When she woke, rolling her shoulders in frustration because it had been a fitful sleep, Daphne knew exactly what to do next. Her motions were mechanic: Send Theo the letter. Inform Pere of the plan to host a party on the Summer Solstice. Slip in a comment about picking up wines from Italy. Sigh and agree to take an appropriate companion to ensure the safety of her pure blood. Dress in a summery, loose fitting dress, those shades she liked so much and a summer hat. And finally apparate the brief distance to Malfoy Manor, trendy purse on her shoulder, and knock on the door.

"I'm here to see Draco Malfoy," Daphne said, blinking as she realized an elf had opened the door. "I'd like him to accompany me to an Italian Winery."