#snakeinthestacks

[julian-wood]

Caution Wet Floor

muggle London 19 November 2021, early evening @snakeinthestacks​ 

Julian’s pockets were lighter now that Gringotts had converted his pocket gold to paper currency. The dementors had gone, but the weather hadn’t much improved. The visibility was improved on the ground, but his scarf was still wound around his neck and his coat zipped tight as he Apparated in a familiar alley. 

He quickly stepped out into the street, hands in his pockets, fingers tapping against his phone; he didn’t anticipate any magical calls this evening. Julian only ever made an excursion when there was something he needed that he couldn’t get from Diagon Alley. There was also a post office box he—checked occasionally, usually full of muggle clippings he usually tossed, save for the subscription to Astronomy Now and Sky & Telescope. 

Unfortunately, the street was a lot slicker than what he had anticipated; one wrong step on some wet newspaper sent him careening forward. He reached forward with the hope of finding something to latch on to—only to find that he had been pulling on someone else’s sleeve to help him regain his balance. 

“Sorry, I just—” Julian caught his breath momentarily, kicked away the newspaper, then clapped the fellow on the shoulder. “Slippery tonight, isn’t it?”

[dierdra-jones]

The Muggle Spectrespect

Madley Magical-Muggle Expo December 5th, 2027 @snakeinthestacks​

Dierdra’s appearance at the Madley Magical-Muggle Expo wasn’t mandatory yet, but it was going to be as soon as news had broken out about the Firebolt Premier. Usually the Harpies were one of the first to preview the new line of brooms for the upcoming season, and Dierdra herself had photos taken for Seeker Weekly as part of the first rollout of publicity. 

Quidditch teams, it seemed, were becoming less relevant when it came to broom sales. It was not going to be Dierdra’s problem, but it was going to be soon.

A small crowd of passerby, held back by a thin rope that levitated in front of the stage, ogled the broom—almost like they were in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies. A man in front offered a boxy pair of glasses to someone up front, touting a virtual experience.

Dierdra scoffed, though only loudly enough that the person beside her could hear. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been disdainful about technology before, but this partnership with Madley Industries was getting ridiculous; people were just making everything more difficult for themselves, finding pretend ways of living.

“What’s the point of putting on a pair of muggle spectrespects? You can’t fake flying on a broom with both feet on the ground.”

[dierdra-jones]

Dressed to Impress

closed starter for @snakeinthestacks​ 24 September 2027, late evening National Museum of Quidditch (Centennial Gala)

Dierdra would be surrounded by familiar faces if not for the masks that hid them. Some people were more easily recognized than others, the event truly showing personalities... or lack thereof.

That didn’t mean that Dierdra didn’t look good! Unoriginal didn’t have to mean tacky, and she hoped that her dress, for as shocking as it was with its deep V down her torso, would be the last detail the Prophet picked up from her for that evening. Few of the photos taken so far had Dierdra by herself, though she had not yet been seen with anyone that someone might consider out of the ordinary. She strayed from the Harpies momentarily to greet players from the other teams, following someone she thought she recognized. The formal setting gave her opportunity to impress, even if she wasn’t completely aware why she was eager to do so.

Dierdra quickly tapped him on the shoulder, then immediately regretted her decision. She wasn’t sure what made her think, upon her first impression from the back, that this was the person she had been looking for. Perhaps she didn’t know the person she was looking for as well as she thought, or these masks made it more difficult to find anyone. “I’m sorry—I thought you were someone else.”

[dierdra-jones]

Clear the Aisle

@snakeinthestacks​

Location: Flourish & Blotts, Diagon Alley, London Time: Mid morning, 5 September 2027

Albus let his fingers trail along the spines of books, tracing their numbers carefully.  He wasn’t in a rush, not this morning.  But he was looking for something specific.  And truth be told, this was hardly the best place to be looking for something fine and rare.  He’d need a proper collector or used book seller to find an original, but a reprint would do for starters.

That was the problem with some legal books in the wizarding world.  To many changes to the language as English evolved.  Which didn’t even begin to cross into the complexities of squaring wix law with Scottish common law when it conflicted with English, but that was another matter entirely.  Here, he was focusing on the specific lexical evolution that…well it didn’t matter to anyone outside of his mind, least of all to the person that he could feel approaching from further down the aisle.  He looked down at his phone as if the glowing screen held all the answers.

“If you insist on bothering me on this wonderful Sunday morn, then I’ll be happy to give you my standard litany of replies,” Albus snapped, his voice sharp and pointed.  “They begin and end with No Comment, and progress to a very detailed explanation of how you could be violating the Writ of Privacy Personal as noted by the Wizarding elect of 1612 after the invention of the sneakoscope.” He selected a heavy tome and pulled it to hand, not bothering to look up.  “So what shall it be?  Lecture or will you bugger off?”

Dierdra didn’t want to admit to being lost in a bookstore, but it was rarely that she really made her way through Flourish and Blotts. It just so happened that her auncle’s memoir had been published, though she wasn’t sure she would have time to read it so much as she just wanted to have a copy of it.

She stepped in between the shelves though and was met with an acerbic tone of voice. Dierdra didn’t wasn’t the type to get in anyone’s way, but she hadn’t done much yet except try to navigate to where the biographies were. Her voice dropped, less because of the fact that they were between the shelves, but more because she didn’t want to be found with someone who attracted more attention than she did by herself.

“Trust me, the last thing that I want is my privacy violated—what makes you think I’d be interested in yours?” She kept an eye on the phone on his hand, though she didn’t call him out on it—he could just as easily turn a camera on her if he wanted, and she entertained tackling him if it turned to that. All she wanted to do, once a phone camera was turned in her direction, was to smash the phone on the ground; it had never escalated that far, because it would just exacerbate a problem that she didn’t have a solution to. “Are people often scared off by legal jargon?”