#potter starter

[goldensnidgets]

𝚑𝚘𝚐𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑. 𝟸𝟶:𝟶𝟶 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜. 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟽, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟿. 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜: 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗

The last thing he remembered seeing was his father’s face imposed on unfurling banners.

With a sudden jolt Jamie came to, eyes bursting open onto the dark sky overhead. Lungs burned in desperation for air, and he took a swift gulp. His tongue tasted like smoke and dust, burning his sinuses as he began to slowly register what was going on around him. He couldn’t quite remember where he was, until he had managed to turn his head and take a look around. Was this… the Hogwarts pitch? At the realization, it had slowly came back to him. One second ago he was sitting comfortably in the stands, only mildly paying attention to the debate before him. Now he was… Well, he wasn’t sure where he was, his vision obscured by something. A blink and that obstacle became clear — a spiderweb like crack splintering across his glasses. Nothing a quick repairing charm can’t fix. Even he couldn’t mess that up.

“No matter,” he croaked out to himself, suddenly realizing just how winded he was. “Just grab your wand and fix it.” Easier said than done it would seem. As his brain registered his limbs again, Jamie attempted to lift up his right hand only for a jolt of searing pain to catapult up his arm. He hissed miserably before letting his hand fall pathetically back to his side. “Shite,” he moaned, turning his head to try and get a view of the affected area to little success. I really hope that’s not broken. It was the last thing a professional athlete needed, much less a person in his precarious situation.

Slowly, and with mighty effort, Jamie began to sit up, now registering the blurry landscape around him. He was still in the stands, and a throbbing at the back of his head seemed to signify that he’d fallen over and hit his head on the seat. Must have been after the demonstrations… Duh, he thought. The memories began to come back to him in quick spurts. The debate. The student stepping up. The banners bearing Kingsley and his father’s faces. That maniacal voice. Was it some kind of terrorist attack? He wasn’t sure, but he remembered the frenzy that filled the stands as everyone began running for the closest exits. That’s when I must have been knocked over.

Whatever was going on, Jamie needed to get out of there, rather quickly, and so far it felt like most of his other bones were intact. He could make it to safety on foot, of that he was certain. “Get up, Jamie boy, c’mon now,” he grunted, “You need to get to… to the castle, of course!” What place was safer than Hogwarts (or really, in a comfortable proximity to the pitch)? He couldn’t just apparate, and Hogsmeade was a bit far… Surely everyone was regrouping at the school and it was a safe point in all this mayhem. Yes, Jamie Potter was sure of it, and he was determined to make his way there and hopefully find a healer to tend to his wounded wrist. All will be just fine.

A stupidly optimistic thought.

As he slowly began to sit up, he heard a sound coming from the darkness just a few feet away. Oh no! Instantly Jamie fell into a panic, his heart wildly thumping against his chest. Without a thought, he flopped down and tried to roll between the benches in the stands, squeezing his eyes shut as he attempted to slow his breathing. Play dead! Dear lord, look unconscious! A simple thought, but in that harrowing moment it felt his safest bet. His wand hand was hurt, and he was already poor at magic when it was perfectly fine. If danger lurked in the shadows, then he would be a goner. Harry Potter’s eldest son, alone and wounded, the perfect victim. He swallowed and attempted to bury the thought. You can’t see me! I’m dead, you won’t notice me! He kept repeating the thoughts in his head as he willed his body to be incredibly still, hoping and praying that whoever was about to stumble upon him either had good intentions or would believe him not worth injuring further.

[fauvehoof]

Where: Order Headquarters Date: October 1st Time: 7:40 PM Status: Open to Order members

If it hadn’t been for the full moon, Remus would have done this earlier. As soon as he had learned of Kingsley and Harry’s killings, he’d wanted to organize, to fully commit himself to something for the order. More than wanted- it felt like the only thing that was bearable.

Surviving his mates had been a pain far worse than any full moon. Surviving one of their children? The anguish Remus felt was unquantifiable. Though he was doing his best to be there for others, to contribute, internally Remus felt untethered to all comforts, all senses of himself, and angry. Very angry. If the order hadn’t prevented the death of Harry Potter, no matter how peaceful the world seemed, what was the function of it? They had failed and Remus needed to do something, anything, to mitigate the malicious pit burning him from the inside out.

Clearly, death eaters were alive and well. Clearly, there was enough force and organization behind them to have committed two murders and upset a community event. Had this really all flown under the order’s nose, or were there traitors? Why hadn’t any of this been investigated? Remus felt a terrible, suffocating sense of urgency the more he thought about it- how could he have allowed this to happen? How could any of them?

Maybe Remus had been in shock when the order had decided to use the likenesses of Kingsley and Harry to make martyrs of them for the debate, maybe that’s why he didn’t ask questions and went along with it. Remus had not liked the idea at all, unsure of why the order would focus on candidates, when death eaters needed to be found and brought to justice. He would have come here, and sought to do as he planned as soon as he’d finished helping secure Hogwarts, as soon as he had been done ushering students back into the castle- but the moon had only been a few days away. Now he sat at the Order’s headquarters, alone and anxious.

Lycanthrophy hadn’t been generous in Lupin’s old age. The transformation left him stiffer and duller than ever. Fresh scratches ran along the bridge of his nose, as bright as if he’d just received them. He looked pale and flushed all at once, with hazy, bloodshot eyes... but it didn’t matter- Remus just needed someone, anyone, to come by so he could let them know where he’d be going.

[strvngemagic]

where: edge of the forbidden forest when: september 17th, post-death eater attack (around 9:30pm) who: eden + open to any death eater

“just what.” eden clawed frantically at her face to dismiss the glamour holding her grey mask in place. it fell to the muddy ground with a soft ‘plop’! “the bloody fuck.” summoned the mask back into her hands and twisted the terrifying visage once, twice, three times in her hands. a small part of her wanted to hurl it at the whomping willow. “was that?!” 

she was accustomed to instruction - her grandfather, her teacher of dark magic since her youth, was very particular. thorough. bellatrix could be those things when she wanted to be, but tonight was chaos — and not the good kind. she’d been yearning for the chance to show off her skills in public for years now, not just in sporadic missions directed from the shadows. if she was to be a death eater in the fullest sense of the term, she wanted the assured destruction and rush of power that came with it. instead, she got a last-minute summons to a trite debate and no directive as to whom she should target. oh, she’d slung spells like she was born for it, of course, slashed the common folk down where they stood. she hoped they hurt, she hoped they feared her. but eden couldn’t rightly say she’d accomplished anything tonight, and that fact annoyed her to no end. 

she grasped the robes of the nearest black-clad colleague she could find. anger seeped into her every word: “did she tell you that she was going to pull that stunt?!” 

[silvertngue]

amadeus didn’t think it was a secret,  that he wasn’t the most interested in politics or family.   hell,  he’d fucked off to sweden as soon as he was able half because he really loved the job waiting for him there,  and half to get away from his family and their politics.                 but he was back now,  and appearances were important.   when your cousin runs for minister,  amadeus had thought,  the least you could do was show up and watch the debate. 

well,  fuck him.   next time he’d see about doing even less than that.   

    he didn’t have any skin in this game   ━   he wasn’t going to whip out his wand and add even more chaos to a event that was already sending people running,  startled & scared.   running himself wouldn’t help,  either,  not in the mad crush of the crowd.   he ducked under an unidentifiable blast of magic,  grabbing at someone else’s arm to bring them down with him,  away from whatever unknown fate might’ve waited for them if he hadn’t.   

“ hey, “  he said,  voice strained and words sharp,  quick.  “ stay down.   are you alright? “ 

[florcarrow]

“ don’t leave. “ her stubbornness made her wait until the very last moment, just as the other had their hand on the door to exit madam marlkin’s. her consciousness, however, got the best of her, and so the words were rushed out in a sharp tone. “ there’s trouble next door, “ she revealed, her eyes moving at last from the rack of cloaks to the other. flora had seen a potential conflict, or attack just as she was walking in, and in current times, especially in public laces like diagon alley, one could never be too careful.

[finchfletchleyj]

He wasn’t unaware of the tension in the wizarding world—you’d have to be completely oblivious to miss it—but Justin didn’t want to act scared. Even his mother had noticed the wary looks on his face when he tried to hide the Daily Prophet’s stories from her. He only scanned it for information and hadn’t yet bothered to cancel it. There was still a year of school left, and that’s what he was trying to remain focused on. Preparation for the next school year—and whatever else the D.A. needed him to do during the school year. But he tried to keep the worry off his face and the target on his back as small as possible. Justin carefully walked through the streets, careful not to draw attention to himself, a feat he could barely manage half the time. He needed to exchange money though, so he could get a few supplies he wanted to stock up on before they were sold out. Gringotts was hardly Justin’s favorite place to go; he was practically begging for a distraction as he walked towards the bank, when he saw something out of the corner of his eye moving in his direction. Before he could even think, he drew his wand—then realized it was just a bird. “Merlin, get a grip.” Not the distraction he wanted. 

[pxrkinson]

“You’ve returned, small girl,” a wheezing voice says, thin as parchment. Pansy smiles to hear it, turning to look old Aloysius in the eyes. He looks as dour as ever, the Borgin & Burke’s attendant, his back ramrod straight and expression almost sour.

“Always a pleasure, Aloysius,” she says, her gloved fingers stroking ornamental candles (poisonous, likely). The door opens with a heavy creak, and with it brings a familiar face. Pansy crooks her head slightly, facing the newcomer with a smirk.

[wittychasers]

Location: The Quidditch Stadium Date: September 17th  Time : 21:42 Status: Open to anyone!

There was a searing pain shooting through her head. Horrified spectors thundered past her after another explosion of spells and curses erupted around them. God, where was her wand? She’d been knocked to the ground from the sheer force, and something had struck her in the head. Stretched an arm out, she felt the handle of her precious blackthorn wand against her fingertips. A tight grasp wrapped around it as she worked to bring herself to her feet. She managed to get to her hands and knees. Her vision was blurred from whatever hit her. A hand came up to only come back with spots of blood on her fingertips. “Shit!” she muttered.

Eyes focused on the ground in hopes that maybe the ground would stop spinning. The footsteps approaching forced her to pull herself together. Flipping to her back and pushing herself into a sitting position, she pointed her wand in a panic at the noise. “Get back!” She could only hope the fear she felt was not reflected in her expression.