WHO : Daphne Avery & Anyone. WHERE : The Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley. WHEN : Around Lunch Time.

"A mother's hopes and wishes, all in the gutter," Daphne replied in the same humorous tone. Pureblood households and their dedication to etiquette was unwavering, she remembered the gruelling lessons of her own — Merlin forbid they forgot which fork to stab themselves with. Cleaning the handkerchief as well, she neatly folded it on the table next to her.

"Then I'd say you have a golden business opportunity on your hands — I know plenty Ministry colleagues willing to pay a fortune for a prescribed vacation," Daphne replied. "Ah, dinner with your parents — wedding preparations I assume?"

"I fear that is something my mother has been trying for years and look where it has landed me." He teased. Manners was something he prided himself on, used in the right context. There was a concern for Daphne. "You can keep it." He had more of them at home.

"And if I do?" It wasn't hard to pay the right person to give him what he wanted, or bribe them, there was always something available at the tip of his fingers. He sits down beside her. "I am free for now. Dinner with my parents later, but I don't mind keeping them waiting."

If there was one virtue Daphne luckily possessed, it was that of patience. Years of tip-toeing around the Avery estate, needing to pick the exact moment when to move and when to stay silent — she had never been rustled easily, and today was not when she was about to start, not when she needed a drink. Still, that didn't mean she was going to give in easily — especially not when someone wanted her to.

"I don't care to fix what is your problem, not mine. If you wanted to sit somewhere by yourself undisturbed, you should have chosen a less busy pub," Daphne spoke in a matter-of-fact way, little indication of emotion in the words, However, at the sight of the cigarettes and smoke blown directly towards her, she couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her.

Picking a slim menthol cigarette from her purse, she demonstratively put it to her lips. Though she did not intend to be very petty about this situation — showing that she was the mature one in this conversation — Daphne felt something take over about half way through her smoke. Head tilted to the other side, she 'accidentally' dropped her cigarette into the witch's drink to extinguish. Doe-eyed and innocent looking, she turned back, feigning an apologetic expression. "Oops."

The witch was going to be a pain in Georgette's ass. It was obvious from the first words out of her mouth. Not that she would expect anything less. It was an example of why she never wanted to interact with other people. She may have had an attitude but that didn't give others license to have one, no matter how hypocritical that sounded. If approached the right way then maybe Georgette wouldn't be such a bitch but that's not how anyone greeted her.

"I'll close my eyes where I please," she said looking at Daphne, a witch she didn't even know. Obviously a no one. "Sounds like a problem you need to fix. Has nothing to do with me." Georgette rubbed her temples as Daphne didn't speak. At least wasn't speaking for a moment but of course her annoying voice perked up again.

Georgette took out her cigarettes. Maybe the smoke would make her go away. She lit the cigarette, inhaled and exhaled, making sure smoke went in Daphne's direction without blowing it directly in her face.

fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s ‘i am tired of making a religion out of my suffering’.

[text id: i am too little, and too much, and never enough.]

WHO : amos diggory & anyone. WHERE : sugarplum's sweet shop, diagon alley. WHEN : late afternoon.

With Cedric momentarily distracted by a kid floating around after chewing on some Fizzing Whizzbees, Amos was taking his chances by loading his Sugarplum's basket full of treats. The kids on the Little League team he coached had reached the semi-finals today — and they were expecting a reward. While he wondered how much of this could be put down under 'equipment costs budget', Amos spotted the gold mine — a bowl full of discounted Sugar Quills. "Dibs!" He called, just as he grabbed the bowl right before the next person trying to reach for it, looking (and feeling) particularly childish. "Sorry, it's a Sugar Quill emergency — if you want any, you're going to have to fight me for them."

otp meme ≡ [2/7] scenes

davika hoorne for elle 

MICHAEL EVANS BEHLING @ Giorgio Armani

Do you ever just go wow I have a lot of repressed anger

"Never been to a Sugarplum's sale before?" Amos asked at the sight of furrowed brows, followed by a pardon. He knew he must look ridiculous, but when half the customers were on a sugar high most the time, he managed to blend in decently well. "These things get brutal, I'm talking multiple Healers needing to be called in kind of brutal," He knew that it would likely not explain his behavior much, but at the very least, he noticed the old employee stocking shelves nodding along with him.

"Diggory. Amos. Amos Diggory." If anything, Amos was just making himself look worse by repeating his name, as if the other man wasn't aware how names worked. "Are you sure? These are 50% off, you know." Unable to shut himself up, Amos held up the bowl with it's large discount sticker as evidence.

"Sorry, it's been a long day, 'm feeling a bit frazzled, like the seams are coming off," Amos figured an apology wasn't going to save him from this disaster of a show, but he figured that before he had to dart off again to save Cedric from the bad flavors of Bertie Bott's, he might as well make an attempt at it.

Corban was shopping for his younger sisters. It wasn't the most fun chore, but the two had been demanding more snacks, and it was his duty as an elder of the three to provide. The cart was almost full, filled with sweets and sours he knew those little menaces would enjoy and leave him be for a week, if lucky. He wasn't truly planning on buying the discount Sugar Quills, or maybe he would have if he deemed them decent enough. He was just curious as to what could have been the reason for said discount. The man was about to reach for it when someone else snatched it up. In a rather quick manner, it somewhat reminded him of a hawk. However, as he looked at the man and his somewhat, barely-held-together attire, he felt quipped by his imagination. There was no hawk in front of him. Just a tired but still rather handsome man.

He wasn't planning on caring until the comment had been made by the man, a rather silly one at that, childish even. Corban's brows furrowed slightly. He eyed the man up again, now studying him a bit closer.

"Pardon?" Then he paused. "I do not plan to fight you for it. They are all yours, Mister...?" he trailed off unsure what the name of the stranger was, although he could swear their face was familiar.