#rita 001

[rxmxslxpin]

Festival of Lights @ritxskeeter​

Normally Remus wouldn't dare leave his bed so soon after the full moon, but he couldn't resist an excuse to go out with his friends. He had layered up in multiple jumpers, a couple of scarves and a beanie on his head, both to keep him warm and to hide the obvious wounds on his body. He had spent some time with the Marauders, but they understood when he opted out of skating to relax on a bench for awhile. Finishing off his sixth cup of hot cocoa, (everyone knew it was best to keep chocolate in his hands to keep his complaining to a minimum) Remus leaned back on the bench and closed his eyes for a moment.

Opening his eyes at the feeling of something poking his cheek, he glanced around in confusion. Clearly he had fallen asleep, for quite some time as the sun was now setting. Looking to his left, he chuckled softly as he saw Rita Skeeter standing over him. "Don't worry, I'm not dead." He assured her as he sat up straight, "And I'm not passed out because I'm drunk, although I wouldn't be surprised if Sirius spiked my drink." Remus patted the bench beside him as an invitation for her to sit, his smile widening slightly, "Honestly, I'm glad you found me. I'm sure if it was one of the boys I'd have marker or something all over my face."

[orionselwyn]

who: @ofrita​ when: afternoon where: some cute outdoor cafe

Orion had far too many secrets to ever be able to let himself relax around Rita. There was absolutely no reason anyone would ever suspect the Selwyns of anything but Orion understood that for someone like Rita it was probably just fuel to actually find (or invent) something. It was why when she took a seat next to him at the outside cafe he had stopped by at for lunch he tensed momentarily before turning to look at her, a smile already in place. “Rita,” he greeted her politely. “It’s nice to see you’re well and safe.”

[stasyabelov-blog]

date: december 21 location: the balcony availability: closed to @ritajakov​

Despite wanting to leave, Stasya knew they could never allow themself to--at least, not yet. If they left this early, guilt would find them in the silent hours of night. Or, perhaps, curiosity would eat at them for the rest of the week. They hated to think they might miss something, and though there was rarely anything to miss at fetes, the fear was enough to keep them circulating the ball room despite their escalating sickness. They could feel the cold sweat building up on the back of their neck, the aching of their feet, the knots in their stomach begging for relief.

Instead of leaving, though, they retreated to the balcony. A bit of cool air always went a long way, and the snowflakes that melted on their warm cheeks were enough to momentarily put them at ease. It was a pleasant break, too, from the endless chatter of the night--the words that meant so little to everyone who spoke them. On the balcony, the prattling was so muffled that it was almost comforting. Stasya loved people and all their foolish ways, but sometimes they were much more tolerable--much less exhausting--from afar.

When the door opened behind them, Stasya immediately tensed. It wasn’t so much that they were trying to ward off conversation--such a task would be foolish to undertake on a night when conversation was so abundant--but rather, they weren’t in a mood to be taken off-guard. Their stomach was still churning, and they would much rather be in full control of who they were talking to and when. Upon glancing over their shoulder, however, Stasya’s posture relaxed. Rita, their mind sighed. Rita had always been a sight for sore eyes--even as they grew apart, and even when Rita developed into someone they didn’t quite recognize.

Stasya allowed an easy smile to settle on their lips. “Come to stargaze?”

[cresswelld]

Where: Ravenclaw House table, Great Hall When: 9th January 1978, breakfast Who: Dirk && @qvickquill​

Where around him were classmates catching up on work or studying they had forgotten about over the holidays, Dirk had finished all of his homework and done a reasonable amount of extra reading. Others were yawning, the first morning back to classes after the Christmas holidays always a difficult one for many to wake up for, after so many late nights and busy days. Again, Dirk’s holidays had been quiet. Low-key. He hadn’t even taken up his usual job position at his dad’s workplace and his only late night had been New Year’s Eve, when he had gone to bed at twenty minutes past midnight. He glanced around the table looking for something to do or somebody willing to strike up a conversation and saw a copy of the Daily Prophet folded up on the table near one of the seventh years. “Any chance I could borrow that paper?”