#sanctusstarter

[thcrnedflowers-blog]

It is one swift and graceful movement, grabbing the man but the collar of his shirt and flattening him onto his back between bites of her cream cheese bagel. Fleur glanced up at the person who’d been shouting after him with a long exhale. “I believe he took something from you, yes?” 

[daughtercfadog-blog]

“Twenty galleons an hour, starting price.” Alice said from behind her cup, the truth wasn’t cheap and neither was she. “I’m good at what I do.”

[wright-ophelia-blog]

Ophelia wandered the cluttered streets of Diagon Alley, face pale and cheeks clammy. “Ex-Excuse me,” she meekly asked the group blocking her escpae to quieter areas.

[thcrnedflowers-blog]

“I’m fairly sure you just called his father a goat, but the words were so jumbled even I’m not sure.” Fleur said with her tea in hand, milk already turning it a lovely shade of beige as she dropped in her second sugar cube. Internally she was embracing the small victory of using jumbled correctly in a sentence. Externally, she might have been judging just a little bit. 

[winestaincd-blog]

“Actually I was just heading out,” Daphne said as she threw her coat over her arm. “If you don’t mind walking and talking, I’ll be happy to continue this conversation.”  

[daughtercfadog-blog]

                   “I’m afraid you can’t do that.” Alice objected with a simple wave of her hand. The official she’d been engaged in conversation with was keeping her from her job, so in return she thought she’d have a little fun keeping him from his. It was the same few questions repeated over and over, and each time they were met with a vague response that was meant to be grating. “It’s not actually illegal to be an asshole.” The brunette stated with dry sarcasm. “You seem shocked.”  

[bdotzab-blog]

Blaise was annoyed. Because even after all his efforts, in the end he was still Slytherin, he was still from a dark family, he was still a suspect. He had went along with no panic, with no struggle. He went along with the brash arrogance of someone who was confidently innocent. (Even though he knew it didn’t matter how innocent you were. In that case, there was no point to the struggle, either.) He had no bad blood for the people who had captured him and his friends. These aurors were people he knew. People he was friends with, who he drank with - who he greeted along the corridors and asked about their families. Still, here they were. It stung, but it was their jobs. There was nothing they nor Blaise could do. They were just following orders.

So, Blaise, treated the thing with entirely prepared indifference, as he always did - remaining pleasant, smiley, if a bit tired, exhausted, irritated from all the previous happenings of the night. He didn’t snap, as much as he wanted to. He didn’t repeat, “I want a solicitor,” over and over again, as much as he really wanted to. He was cooperative, civil, and upon being returned to the table, told that he would have to be questioned again later, he resisted the irritated scowl that was only one twitch away. He nodded, sat down, and crossed his arms. He looked at the person beside him. 

“Are you okay?”

[wright-ophelia-blog]

“This is a first,” she slowly sighed. “I never thought I’d go to one of the things.”