hanabbott-blog1

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drcsmalfoy‌:

it was the question that catches him off-guard. he had been acutely aware of the festivities in front of him, while the band on stage kept playing a heavy set that had the audience completely under a frantic spell. his fellow slytherin’s had insisted (or, more like, dragged him out), to come along and join them, against his protests of being anywhere near this damned night club somewhere off charing cross road.

 – and though the act of sneaking away without anyone being none the wiser had proved itself difficult, he managed it nonetheless. still, draco had been very careful to arrive fashionably late for the grand opening. he hadn’t even had a chance to mingle with his old acquaintances yet, other than when he had greeted them briefly at the front entrance. they had all but disappeared in the crowd almost half an hour ago, and he had no intentions on finding them. if not now, then eventually. 

but until that happens, draco finds himself against a wall, downing his third glass of whiskey with a violent tilt of the wrist. he refused to enjoy himself, though the girl next to him gave him plenty of other ideas. and he couldn’t help the smirk that spread on his face when their eyes met as she flushed ever so slightly. “  well,  ” he starts, leaning forward, close enough that he could speak aloud over the music.  “  i can’t say i disagree. it’s a bit boring, wouldn’t you say?  ”

beneath the effervescent lights  , one could say that they truly did not know the company they’d kept . that notion in itself could be supported by the fact that hannah had taken note of not one , not two, but three oddities within the bodies mingling mere feet away from her . perched , as if gazing through glass window at a world in which she wasn’t quite sure she’d fit any longer , it’s a breathy sigh that follows as the boys sharp vocals cut through thickened air . throat growing dry with the realization of who it was she’d spoken to . lights flicker , the crowd cheers , and the beat drops heavily around them in mere moments . 

“ never really been one for parties to begin with so –– who am i to judge , i ‘spose. “ careful shrug rolls from slender shoulders as grip tightens upon tumbler in her hand . gaze flickers towards him , draco malfoy . for all she’d read in the papers , the slander that his name was now wrought with , she couldn’t for the life of her find a terrifying thing about him . brow furrows as she studies , perhaps allowing gaze to linger for a moment too long as her own inquisitive nature gets the best of her . “ ‘lthough , boring might not be the word for it . “ beyond melded bodies , there’s frantic hands , sweaty palms , the writhing of desperation if only to lose ones self for a night . something inwhich hannah had found , however , hers was discovered at the bottom of a glass , a bottle . there was no comfort found in her .  shallow laughter escapes her , bodice twisting slightly to face him . 

lips curl slightly , lithe digit pushing loosened lock of honey golden curls behind her ear as attempt to feign amusement crumbles . “ –– ‘m sure you’ve an onslaught lined up and willing to have a go at dancing . “ her assumption seeps from liquor kissed tongue , honest jest lingering within her tone . it’s an uncertain shiver that crawls through her veins , raises hair upon nape of her neck before she continues . “ so what is it that would excite you , may i ask ? “ 

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( ◕‿◕ )♡

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whlivd‌:

it’s funnier when she does it, devoid of the years of loathing for the woman harry has been building up since he was fourteen ( disturbed and dangerous, she had called him ) and her quill scratched out horrible things about harry and his friends. he laughs softly and props his head on his hand, elbow resting on the bar top. harry’s not so sure it will pass, but doesn’t comment as much. “dungbomb pie might be a punishment i wouldn’t wish on any soul living,” there are a few souls dead, though, that he would consider, “-like the yule ball but less filled with teenage angst, yeah? though seems like i’m spending both sitting around, watching the dancing.” it’s a lighthearted jab at himself and the fact he seems doomed to not enjoy a single dance he attends. “how about you? are you worried about who you’ll see and what you’re wearing?”

“ yes well , i ‘spose there are fates much worse. but , if only to do it to defend the likes of a friend and for my own personal satisfaction , it’d be worth it. “ she leaves it at that. her softened exterior hiding something sadder , something filled with a sorrow that ate away at bones and flesh as if disease itself . truth be told , she’d come here only to please those who’d thought her to be too much of a hermit , too much of a loner . hiding away within the rickety hardwood that was the three broomsticks , content with a life of silence . here , however , was anything but . “ the teenage angst has just turned into something much hungrier i’d say .” nose upturned towards the sweaty bodies that writhed upon one another mere meters away. “ nothin’ like watchin’ someone you sat next to in potions wonder who exactly they’re draggin’ back to their flat to wake up hours from now hopin’ they’ll never see the likes of one another again.” she finds a humour in it , the reminiscent moments as they mirror the present . “nothin’ wrong with that if you ask me . so long as you’re not bein’ dragged on the dance floor and forced to waltz , or worse , you should be countin’ yourself lucky.” air fills her lungs , nervous laughter itching at her throat . “ not in the slightest . if you haven’t noticed , i tend to blend in . not much for standing out , never really fancied the idea of it . ‘sides , if i do see anyone else tonight i’m sure they’ll be too drunk to remember.” 

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whlivd‌:

a grimace crosses his features at the mention of the reporter, all-too familiar with the sewage her quill scrawls across tabloid headlines. he does laugh at the thought of hannah abbott absconds with troll! as a headline, though, shaking his head. another sip of the burning alcohol is downed and he hitches one shoulder in a lopsided shrug at the question. why did he come? harry isn’t even really sure. “it’s a perfectly good flat, not a hole,” he responds in faux defense of his current social habits, “i dunno. figured if i wasn’t here people’d think it meant something. boy who lived condemns new muggle-born club! read all about it!” the words lose their jovial tone and take on something more heated for a moment, though harry’s able to shake it off, “and i do think this place is a good idea, even if it’s not my - thing.”

her hands wave through the air with dramatics in place as she reenacts the scene itself. “harry potter , chosen one , saviour of the wizarding world, you won’t believe what he’s up to next.” there’s jest littered within her tone . “ it’d make a perfectly good idea for a tell all . but , you make a fair point i ‘spose , didn’t really take that into account. “ of course she wouldn’t . teeth graze against inside of her cheek , as if to condemn herself for not thinking the obvious . “ you know , ‘m sure it’ll pass , if not say the word and if your name reaches the likes of her mouth i’ll gladly bake her a dungbomb pie of some sort . might take a little too much pride in seein’ the smirk wiped from her face. “ she nods , the feeling of something likened to similarity coming to her . “ yeah well , i think everyone was itchin’ for something , or someone , to tell them that –– that it’s okay, it sounds daft i know but –– i don’t know. i think people like the idea that for a night there’s not much to worry about other than who they’ll see , what they’ll wear –– merlin knows we didn’t , we haven’t , had it in awhile. “ 

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svsansbones‌:

     susan has researched muggle things for years, anything that could help her feel closer to her father. listening as her mother did her best to explain - knowing she would learn of him from the woman who knew him best. it was a never ending tunnel, learning various bits of knowledge that most would see as pointless. but due to this, a dance club is not a completely foreign concept - though it might as well be, with how she feels, attempting to squeeze through the moving bodies. the dark room, flashing lights, loud music, and people crowded together causes her anxiety to prickle at her skin. something that has only gotten worse throughout the years, only emphasized after the war. susan picks up her second drink, a mulled mead, and decides she needs to breathe.      she finally finds solace in in the corner of the club, where her best friend stands alone nursing a drink of her own. it takes a moment for her to capture what hannah says, the music and people making it difficult. but she lets out a laugh, shaking her head, as she joins her at her side. “ no, “ she says, feeling slightly out of breath, even though she hadn’t been dancing. “ thought i’d give it a chance, y’know ? ” it felt odd, dancing and celebrating, when often times susan feels like the war still has a grip on her. she has not felt that light in ages. but her mother promises the first steps of rebuilding often feel forced and unfitting. “ it’s an attempt, at least. ”

RELIEF washes over her at the sight of susan , another lost soul within a crowded room . it’s susan that hannah seeks out in moments such as these , when the world seems too big , when she cannot help but feel as though she herself was drowning . she’d come here in search of something , a moment of weakness that had simply caused her to regret leaving the comfort of her flat . there was something so calming , something so pleasant about being alone within the confides of hogsmeade . to walk the streets freely at night , empty and quiet with nothing but the moon leaking unto her skin to light the way . knockturn alley had been anything but such a solace . perhaps the sun herself had found herself prey to the moon , to the darkness and shadows that covered every corner and crevasse . her smile is genuine , the warmth that fills her a mixture of recognized comfort and the whiskey she’s been downing to stay in place . “ well , i’m glad you’re here to share my misery then . “ free arm links through susans. “ don’t think i could’ve survived the evenin’ if it wasn’t for your efforts . can’t say i would’ve dragged my arse away from my kitchen –– “ 

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lisajadene‌:

It wasn’t often that Jade found herself with a night off from both work and Kayden, but after the month they’d had, she needed it and she was beyond glad that his aunt was taking him for the night despite everything. The bright lights flashing against sweat-filled bodies’ as they swayed to the music blasting through the club. She’d missed it, the scene, living a careless life filled with names she couldn’t remember, faces that blurred into the night. A time where everything was easier. Not that she’d change her current situation for the world, she adored Kayden and couldn’t imagine a life without him in it. So, despite wanting to straight back in and let loose, the girl found herself closer to the walls, watching the crowd from a distance with a vodka soda in her hand. 

“ not anymore, no.” she admitted with a soft smile, glancing over her shoulder at the blonde, eyes filled with curiosity and desire. “ i thought maybe putting on a fancy dress would change that, but seems it takes a lot more these days.” jade chuckled. 

" anymore –– “ word echoes as curiosity washes over her features . shoulders roll into a small shrug as gaze trails towards the girl , her attention unwavering . “ you’ve got one up on me i’d say , i’ve not really been out like this in –– well –– the yule ball perhaps , though really shouldn’t count that now should i ? “  teeth graze against bottom lip , a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she continues . whisky dripped tongue , she fades into the crowd , allows herself to be swallowed by the bodies and voices that echo throughout the club around them . however , her solace had been one in which she could find the heart to share , if only for a moment . to act as a shoulder to cry on , or an ear to remain open for those who’d poured out secrets from liquor laced lips . “ i have a feelin’ you aren’t alone in that . wasn’t even sure i was showin’ up and so i’d have to say i’m a little underdressed. “ she shakes her head , waves of blonde locks mask her features , smile faltering if only for a moment of brevity , if only a moment to breathe before she returns to a guise of pleasantries . “ can’t be hard for the likes of you , a nice dress and a few cocktails bought from admirers –– “ gaze focuses atop her companions shoulder before chin nods towards a sea of glazed hues . “ i myself have noticed at least two , you might just have a line up by the end of the night . “ 

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whlivd‌:

it feels like he’s being ungrateful, when he speaks unkindly about the attention he’s received for years now. after all - he’s still alive. that’s more than so many can say. fingers scrub through his hair and he takes his drink with a grateful smile when it arrives, downing a few large gulps of it in quick succession. if he lingers too hard on that feeling he can hear the echoes of aunt petunia’s voice in the back of his head, ungrateful child, and shivers. he looks at hannah and makes himself more comfortable on the bar stool, deciding in that very moment that this is likely where he’ll be spending a large portion of the night. “with a troll? is that something we should worry about?” a sardonic quirk of his lips punctuates the words. he swivels to look at the crowd as she talks, a mild laugh of his own bubbling through his lips. “good enough reason, i’d say.”

“ i’d like to think that whatever articles rita skeeter is spewing have nothin’ in the slightest to do with me and the would be troll –– “ she takes a moment to laugh at herself , free digits combing through blonde tresses before allowing breathy laughter to slip from her tongue. there’s always been a comfort in harry’s company , that she was certain of . he , himself , had proven to be a friend to her when the world around them had been crumbling , for that , she’d often liked to think she owed him much more . “what about you then , hm ? what drove you out of your hole to show up here this evenin’, don’t tell me it was the music because if you ask me –– not the best. “ 

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[hanabbott-blog1]

U N P R E T T Y . a mix for girls who thrive in solitude , who stumble and fall only to rise . for those who prefer the shadows to the spotlight , who go unseen . who crave the same love they find themselves hiding from . a mix for the girls who sing into their hairbrushes , who drink their coffee black with a splash of honey , who believe in the good in the world and plan to contribute to it. 

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whlivd‌:

the darkness of the club has proven an ally to harry’s attempts to get through the night unbothered by prying eyes and overly enthusiastic questions. the flashes of bright colors illuminate his face and bounce off his glasses in reflective rays as harry ducks towards the bar in an effort to escape a curious wizard who had questions that made harry’s spine itch - he doesn’t feel like telling the guy off on what is supposed to be a fun night. it’s hard to have fun when people keep talking to him about the war. he slumps against the bar and orders a glass of firewhiskey, turning to look at hannah. harry’s expression morphs from a mess of exhaustion and irritation to something lighter at the sight of his friend. “not at all,” he glances back towards the crowd, their pulsing movements under the lights and loud noise of music that radiates through the club, “didn’t expect t’see you here, hannah.”

she wonders , if only for a moment , how hard it must’ve been to be here . for harry , the crowds meant something else entirely . while hannah could fall into the background , fading as if she were a ghost amongst the people. he himself had stuck out like a sore thumb , all eyes following the chosen one , the saviour . to be such a thing , to have such a halo propped atop ones head , was something in which hannah wouldn’t wish upon anyone . it’s after this thought that , though she wears a smile permanently plastered for the man , she feels her heart strings tug ever so gently . he , deeply rooted in a tragedy that had only in turn found himself poster boy for change , for recovery . her vocals are tender , softer than she’d hoped amongst the blur of people , the rapidly changing beat of songs as she speaks . “ yes well , couldn’t very well let everyone think i was avoidin’ or that i’d run off with a troll to live in seclusion, now could i ?” 

elbow jabs his side lightly , a feather light laughter tickling her throat as it escapes from her . “ besides , between you n’ me, i quite like watchin’ others make absolute arses of themselves . reminds me why i don’t leave hogsmeade much.”

[hanabbott-blog1]

location : fiendfire club opening status : open to all

RHYTHM has never been her strong suit ,  so whilst others find themselves drawn to the dance floor , hannah opts for a darker corner . too used to being the shadow , the fly upon t he wall in which her former classmates could hardly suspect . fluorescent lighting seeps through her skin , bodies becoming nothing more than a blur mere feet away from her . there was something about the confined space that had managed to strike an anxious chord within her heart . yet , it remains unbeknownst to those around her . petal pink lips plumped to perfection , lightly blushed cheeks shining if only to mask something likened to sorrow that lay beneath . fingers , nimble and delicate , are gripping rum filled glass that she so carefully consumes . it burns , and for a moment she regrets ordering it , but she’ll take anything that keeps her warm . it’s with a curious brow that hannah’s gaze falls upon her companion , another soul seeking solace from the drown out words that echo throughout the dance floor. 

“ not really your scene either , i’m assumin’ ? “ her vocals are sweet , as if liquid sugar , and louder than usual. another moment to masquerade , to hide her feelings beneath the guise of discomfort . 

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"The Picture of Dorian Gray" sentence starters

❝ There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about. ❞

❝ The ugly and the stupid have the best of it in this world. ❞

❝ We shall all suffer for what the gods have given us, suffer terribly. ❞

❝ I have grown to love secrecy. ❞

❝ Your cynicism is simply a pose. ❞

❝ You know we poor artists have to show ourselves in society from time to time, just to remind the public that we are not savages. ❞

❝ Conscience and cowardice are really the same things. ❞

❝ I choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for their good characters, and my enemies for their good intellects. ❞

❝ A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies. ❞

❝ Is that very vain of me? I think it is rather vain. ❞

❝ None of us can stand other people having the same faults as ourselves. ❞

❝ I like persons better than principles, and I like persons with no principles better than anything else in the world. ❞

❝ There is nothing that art cannot express. ❞

❝ The harmony of soul and body—how much that is! We in our madness have separated the two, and have invented a realism that is vulgar, an ideality that is void. ❞

❝ My heart shall never be put under their microscope. ❞

❝ It is only the intellectually lost who ever argue. ❞

❝ I feel that I have given away my whole soul to someone who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat, a bit of decoration to charm his vanity, an ornament for a summer’s day.” ❞

❝ In the wild struggle for existence, we want to have something that endures, and so we fill our minds with rubbish and facts, in the silly hope of keeping our place. ❞

❝ Those who are faithful know only the trivial side of love: it is the faithless who know love’s tragedies. ❞

❝ People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. ❞

❝ Courage has gone out of our race. Perhaps we never really had it. ❞

❝ Every impulse that we strive to strangle broods in the mind and poisons us. ❞

❝ The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. ❞

❝ Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul. ❞

❝ You know more than you think you know, just as you know less than you want to know. ❞

❝ Wherever you go, you charm the world. Will it always be so? ❞

❝ Time is jealous of you, and wars against your lilies and your roses. ❞

❝ Our limbs fail, our senses rot. We degenerate into hideous puppets, haunted by the memory of the passions of which we were too much afraid, and the exquisite temptations that we had not the courage to yield to. ❞

❝ You like your art better than your friends. ❞

❝ I am jealous of everything whose beauty does not die. ❞

❝ Young people, nowadays, imagine that money is everything. ❞

❝ Credit is the capital of a younger son, and one lives charmingly upon it. ❞

❝ Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic. ❞

❝ The way of paradoxes is the way of truth. ❞

❝ I can sympathize with everything except suffering. ❞

❝ Humanity takes itself too seriously. It is the world’s original sin. If the caveman had known how to laugh, history would have been different. ❞

❝ Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one’s mistakes. ❞

❝ You are quite delightful and dreadfully demoralizing. ❞

❝ I am always late on principle, the principle being that punctuality is the thief of time. ❞

❝ I adore it, but I am afraid of it. It makes me too romantic. ❞

❝ Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing. ❞

❝ Passion is the privilege of people who have nothing to do. ❞

❝ If I ever did a crime, I would come and confess it to you. You would understand me. ❞

❝ When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one’s self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance. ❞

❝ There is always something infinitely mean about other people’s tragedies. ❞

❝ I want to make Romeo jealous. I want the dead lovers of the world to hear our laughter and grow sad. I want a breath of our passion to stir their dust into consciousness, to wake their ashes into pain. ❞

❝ People are very fond of giving away what they need most themselves. It is what I call the depth of generosity. ❞

❝ The only artists I have ever known who are personally delightful are bad artists. ❞

❝ It often happens that when we think we were experimenting on others we are really experimenting on ourselves. ❞

❝ Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge them; sometimes they forgive them. ❞

❝ To be in love is to surpass one’s self. ❞

❝ Poor? What does that matter? When poverty creeps in at the door, love flies in through the window. ❞

❝ Our proverbs want rewriting. They were made in winter, and it is summer now; springtime for me, I think, a very dance of blossoms in blue skies. ❞

❝ I shudder at the thought of being free. ❞

❝ I know you would never harm anyone I love, would you? ❞

❝ Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives. ❞

❝ Of course, it is sudden—all really delightful things are. ❞

❝ The reason we all like to think so well of others is that we are all afraid for ourselves. The basis of optimism is sheer terror. ❞

❝ Unselfish people are colourless. They lack individuality. ❞

❝ You are much better than you pretend to be. ❞

❝ I cannot understand how anyone can wish to shame the thing he loves. ❞

❝ When we are happy, we are always good, but when we are good, we are not always happy. ❞

❝ The real tragedy of the poor is that they can afford nothing but self-denial. Beautiful sins, like beautiful things, are the privilege of the rich. ❞

❝ Being adored is a nuisance. ❞

❝ You are dreadful! I don’t know why I like you so much. ❞

❝ You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you have never had the courage to commit. ❞

❝ Love is a more wonderful thing than art. ❞

❝ There are only two kinds of people who are really fascinating—people who know absolutely everything, and people who know absolutely nothing. ❞

❝ The secret of remaining young is never to have an emotion that is unbecoming. ❞

❝ I knew nothing but shadows, and I thought them real. ❞

❝ You taught me what reality really is. ❞

❝ You used to stir my imagination. Now you don’t even stir my curiosity. ❞

❝ I have grown sick of shadows. ❞

❝ You don’t know what you were to me, once. ❞

❝ You have spoiled the romance of my life. ❞

❝ Without your art, you are nothing. ❞

❝ There is always something ridiculous about the emotions of people whom one has ceased to love. ❞

❝ There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. ❞

❝ I can’t bear the idea of my soul being hideous. ❞

❝ You cut life to pieces with your epigrams. ❞

❝ Things like that make a man fashionable in Paris. But in London people are so prejudiced. ❞

❝ One should never make one’s début with a scandal. One should reserve that to give an interest to one’s old age. ❞

❝ How extraordinarily dramatic life is! ❞

❝ I don’t think I am heartless. Do you? ❞

❝ The moment she touched actual life, she marred it, and it marred her. ❞

❝ Life has everything in store for you, ❞

❝ We live in an age that reads too much to be wise, and that thinks too much to be beautiful. ❞

❝ If one doesn’t talk about a thing, it has never happened. It is simply expression that gives reality to things. ❞

❝ You must not tell me about things. What is done is done. What is past is past. ❞

❝ I don’t want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them. ❞

❝ You talk as if you had no heart, no pity in you. ❞

❝ if I told you, you might like me less than you do, and you would certainly laugh at me. I could not bear your doing either of those two things. ❞

❝ Your friendship is dearer to me than any fame or reputation. ❞

❝ You became to me the visible incarnation of that unseen ideal whose memory haunts us artists like an exquisite dream. ❞

❝ Whatever I have done that is good, I owe to you. ❞

❝ There is something fatal about a portrait. It has a life of its own. ❞

❝ Perhaps one should never put one’s worship into words. ❞

❝ There seems to be something tragic in a friendship so colored by romance. ❞

❝ It has a corruption of its own, worse than the corruption of death itself—something that would breed horrors and yet would never die. ❞

❝ The past can always be annihilated. ❞

❝ How exquisite life had once been! How gorgeous in its pomp and decoration! Even to read of the luxury of the dead was wonderful. ❞

❝ Is insincerity such a terrible thing? I think not. It is merely a method by which we can multiply our personalities. ❞

❝ I am tired of myself tonight. I should like to be somebody else. ❞

❝ I love scandals about other people, but scandals about myself don’t interest me. They have not got the charm of novelty. ❞

❝ You don’t want people to talk of you as something vile and degraded. ❞

❝ You must not say things like that. They are horrible, and they don’t mean anything. ❞

❝ You have had more to do with my life than you think. ❞

❝ Each of us has heaven and hell in him. ❞

❝ Youth smiles without any reason. It is one of its chiefest charms. ❞

❝ Keep your horrible secrets to yourself. They don’t interest me any more. ❞

❝ What is it to me what devil’s work you are up to? ❞

❝ I wish you had a thousandth part of the pity for me that I have for you. ❞

❝ The husbands of very beautiful women belong to the criminal classes. ❞

❝ I am not at all surprised that the world says that you are extremely wicked. ❞

❝ It is perfectly monstrous, the way people go about nowadays saying things against one behind one’s back that are absolutely and entirely true. ❞

❝ Nowadays all the married men live like bachelors, and all the bachelors like married men. ❞

❝ Everybody I know says you are very wicked. ❞

❝ I like men who have a future and women who have a past. ❞

❝ Moderation is a fatal thing. Enough is as bad as a meal. More than enough is as good as a feast. ❞

❝ He atones for being occasionally somewhat overdressed by being always absolutely overeducated. He is a very modern type. ❞

❝ What do you want? Money? Here it is. Don’t ever talk to me again. ❞

❝ Each man lives his own life and pays his own price for living it. ❞

❝ The man who could call a spade a spade should be compelled to use one. It is the only thing he is fit for. ❞

❝ I think that it is better to be beautiful than to be good. But on the other hand, no one is more ready than I am to acknowledge that it is better to be good than to be ugly. ❞

❝ To be popular one must be a mediocrity. ❞

❝ We can have in life but one great experience at best, and the secret of life is to reproduce that experience as often as possible. ❞

❝ I wish I could love, but I seem to have lost the passion and forgotten the desire. ❞

❝ My own personality has become a burden to me. ❞

❝ Death is the only thing that ever terrifies me. ❞

❝ The world has always worshipped you. It always will worship you. ❞

❝ Life has been your art. You have set yourself to music. Your days are your sonnets. ❞

❝ The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame. That is all. ❞

❝ The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history. ❞

[hanabbott-blog1]

ofzabinis‌:

HANDS RUB TOGETHER, trying to fend off the biting cold as he walks through the near-empty streets of hogsmeade. blaise lets out a frustrated groan at having forgotten his gloves that morning —– the warm leather the last thing on his mind as he practically ran out the door of his apartment, almost late for class. and now, as the night grows darker, he’s left with the consequences —– ( and oh, how dramatic he could be. ) 

HE QUICKENS HIS PACE upon reaching a familiar path, the cozy little establishment at the end calling out to him. the bell above the door jingles, announcing his presence as he enters. blaise lets out a relived sigh as he takes up a bar stool —– ears ringing with hannah’s warm voice. ‘ good evening, ’ he greets. he can’t recall when exactly he’s started to frequent the small place —– when he has other, much classier options but.. the three broomstricks seems to be a vague reminder of simpler times. ‘ the usual, miss abbott. ’

“ zabini . “ his name was venomous , a reminder that snakes shed their skin time and time again , wearing faces most interchangeable , as if masks , facades. yet , she’d only ever known him to be something regal , something untouchable . “ ‘course , comin’ right up. “ she doesn’t take long , a glass topped with liquor kept top shelf for this very occasion before she slides it against wooden countertop . it was better than silence , she’d tried to convince herself . no need to tire herself with a parade of pleasantries , nor a sickeningly saccharine voice . not around blaise . for , the less they knew the better . 

“ didn’t catch you in last week –– “ she gives him a moment before prying , before questioning . cloth aimlessly circling the same spot against counter as she raises a brow . september brought reminders to them all , she was sure of it . heads kept down , grief stricken and guilt ridden as students took over the alleys and once secluded nooks and crannies . “ although , ‘spose i can’t really blame you , now can i ? what with the –– what with it bein�� so busy n’ all. “ 

[hanabbott-blog1]

onlyhjgranger‌:

@hanabbott​

Hermione stifled another yawn behind her hand as she squeezed past the flowing crowd of people. She hated that to get to her flat she had to go through Diagon Alley after work. It was always so busy now that people had started to feel safer. Which was a good thing don’t get her wrong but MERLIN if it wasn’t exhausting sometimes!

Shuffling her way past what looking to be an overbearing mother clucking at her gaggle of young children Hermione ducked into Slug & Jiggers and couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. The place was close to empty at this hour and after the day she’d had it felt amazing to be able to just get what she wanted and hopefully leave. 

Walking quickly through the aisle until she reached the new potions weekly magazines, she flipped through until she got to the new discoveries section. Hermione quickly became absorbed in the world of potions and knew the shop keeper probably would understand considering she did this everytime the periodical was published before she’d ask to talk to the brewer so she could debate. Some part of her wished that she actually knew a potions master simply to debate the ingredients and how things had to be made. Was instinct or tried-and-true method better?

to be alone , comfortable in her own company , weaving though bustling cobblestone as she’d manoeuvred into shop after shop , was something in which hannah had excelled at. she herself had learned that , whether she’d grown used to it or not , that everyone had families to return to , significant others to wander the world with , and she had only ever had the static silence within her head . it was easier this way , better this way . a constant reminder of that every person you’d let in , every person who saw past the thickened layer of doubt and dark under eyes , was a person who you could lose . 

it’s the curiosity that bites at her heels that causes her to turn into the apothecary , a morbid wonder as if in another life she’d frequent here more so than anywhere else . fresh scent of brews washes over her senses , and hannah cannot help but allow shoulders to fall , a veil of blonde curls masking her features as she enters . students had come and gone , surely sorted and settled into their houses with their new cauldrons courtesy of slug & jiggers . and she , well , here she was , light footfalls carrying her across the floor before gaze falls upon a familiar face . it’s a small sigh that escapes her , a selfishness within her that yearns to turn around . yet , she perseveres if only to save face , to remain in good graces . 

“hermione –– “  her tone is laced with surprise , honey suckle sweetness dripping as eyes surely sparkle. in an old fashion , she finds herself much more like the hannah the world had once known , the one they’d remained blissfully unaware that had faded like a scar . “ fancy seein’ you here . would’ve thought the ministry was holdin’ you up in your office night n’ day ! ” 

[hanabbott-blog1]

I’m not into convincing people I’m worthy. I’m into people who’ll convince me on my worst days that I’m still worth the world.

Reyna Biddy (via wordsnquotes)