Lumosstarter - Blog Posts

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."

WHO : daphne avery & anyone. WHERE : the leaky cauldron, diagon alley. WHEN : around lunch time.

Daphne's internship was connected to the British envoy to the ICW, and since he was usually busy or out of the country, she ended up doing a significant amount of work — however, with no one to directly supervise her, there were very few rules and even less oversight. Though there were more malicious purposes for that, Daphne most often used it to work outside of the office — currently ending up at the Leaky Cauldron. Buried in the enormous pile of work, she didn't even notice the drops of blood until they landed on the part she was reading. Nosebleed. Hastily grabbing napkins, she furiously dabbed against it before it could ruin more of the documents, until she felt eyes on her back. Instantly, she swivelled around on her chair, a glare on her face. "Staring is considered rude, you know."

status: open for everyone location: Borgin Manor, Serra's birthday bash

While she had always loved being the center of attention and considered herself a natural in it, tonight was special. It was her 21st birthday, a date of great significance. There were tons of guest in attendance, more than she remembered inviting but her parents insisted on making it a huge event. She was making her rounds, her tone polite. "Welcome, thank you for coming."

status: open for everyone location: anywhere

"I assure you, I am not back in London by my own free will." Serra pouted, clearly annoyed that she couldn't have stayed in Paris. She'd liked it there, even going so far as attending that fashion design course recommended to her by Leta. Her parents had wanted her to return to England in January after the whole embarrassment that was Alara running away and being blown off the family tree. The compromise that had been reached meant that as soon as her course was completed she'd return. They were adamant about being back before her birthday, while she had no idea why that was so important. "It is all Alara's fault. Obviously. Couldn't help but turn out a traitor."

location: flint and vanity wedding status: open for everyone

"Have you seen some of the dresses people came in here with? it is a shame that taste is not something that everyone's been born with." Serra grimaced, her tone pitiying letting her eyes glance over a woman in a black feathered dress. It looked like she wanted to emulate a raven and failed terribly.

status: open to anyone

Ever since Raffaella had taken over for her father there had been questions directed at her asking when it her turn to join and work in the shop as well. It was called Borgin's & Burke's after all. What was the polite way to say absolutely not? She was way too pretty to work at a place with bad lighting, adding onto the fact of how stuffy it was. Even if the shop was fully renovated, it would have been a firm no. She was too pretty to work in general if you asked her. "Oh Salazar, no. My dad is not making me take over the shop. It's too dusty for me. I couldn't risk my hair to loose its shine and appear dull. It's one of my best features."

The streets of Hogsmeade would always make Cassandra feel warm and nostalgic, no matter how many years passed since she had left Hogwarts. She'd spent a small fortune in Honeydukes before heading into the Three Broomsticks where she'd settled herself in a corner near the fire with a butterbeer. Her nose was buried into a book detailing the latest in runic magic when she spotted someone approaching her from the corner of her eye. "I'm not working at the moment. If you need healing, could you speak to someone else please?" she asked without looking up.

"Table three want to talk to the chef," had been yelled in Fenrir's general direction amongst the rest of the hustle and bustle of the kitchen by the bartender who disappeared almost as quickly as they'd appeared. "Fuck's sake...what now," he'd muttered to himself, wiping his hands against his chef's whites to make himself a little more presentable. Making his way out into the main room of The White Wyvern, Fenrir quirked an eyebrow at the person sat at table three. "I heard you wanted to speak to me, what can I help with?"

Regulus had tried to pick a quiet time to visit Diagon Alley, but it seemed that no time these days was ever truly quiet. Even with the ongoing war, people still didn't seem to shy away from large crowds or bustling busy areas. Drawing his coat tighter around himself, Regulus tried to shrink into himself so as to not draw attention. If his parents were with him, they would chastise him for not holding himself in a manner befitting the Black heir. Slipping quietly into the Apothecary, Regulus didn't take stock of any other customers in the store as he began browsing the various bottles. At the sound of footsteps and someone clearing their throat directly behind him, Regulus straightened his spine and turned slightly. "I'm browsing this shelf at the moment, you'll have to wait."