#𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: the burren !

[beansidhes]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  the lion & the snitch booth, the burren  !

"the answer's still no, honey," sounding very much as if she wanted to call him something a whole lot worse, mary stood her ground behind the counter, hands on hips, until the wizard turned on his heel and stalked off again. she was sure he'd be back before the game kicked off to try his arm again, just as he had already, but it didn't matter how many times he asked - none of the booths were allowed to serve alcohol until five, and mary wasn't going to be the one to get ned's license revoked for the sake of ONE man. her mood had been sour to start with, a wicked combination of the nervous energy she had nowhere to store and the fact that she'd been answering the exact same question since they'd opened up the shutters. now she was barely holding the customer service persona together, evidenced in the way that the smile she flashes her next customer doesn't quite reach her eyes. "i hope you heard that, love. it's just food and non alcoholics for the minute. still want anything ?"

[iustitiias]

catching the tail end of roshana's rather one sided conversation, he doesn't take any offense when she proceeds to shoulder jostle him. it's his own fault for reaching down for that enraging piece of rubbish in the same moment as her but without making his presence known, and when he pulls back - rubbing his shoulder where the pain lies, but only to smooth it out - he does so with enough of a friendly smile in place to communicate that all is well with them. " bad day, " it's not really a question. she seems to be struggling and he knows what that's like, even if he doesn't have to go through the same troubles as usual by virtue of being on one of the charity teams. " you've got a lot more coming to you before the day's done, my friend. if you took to drinking on the job, i'd get it. "

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:    the  burren  quidditch  campgrounds,  pre-game.

＂    sir,  no.  that  is  not  where  that    …    sir!  you  need  to  pick  that  up.    ＂      stern  tone  appears  to  fall  on  deaf    (  or  ignorant  )    ears,  because  the  person  roshana  is  attempting  to  reach  only  continues  to  walk  further  away,  refusing  to  spare  the  litter  they’ve  just  carelessly  discarded  on  the  floor  a  second  glance.  jaw  clenches  tight,  teeth  grinding  together    &    she  opts  to  let  this  one  go.  it  isn’t  even  five  yet.  the  night  is  still  young;    best  to  save  that  energy  for  the  chaos  that’s  bound  to  start  once  game  finishes.      ＂    the  bin  was  right  there.    ＂      exasperated  words  are  spoken  more  to  herself  this  time,  casting  a  sigh  in  the  direction  of  the  trashcan  mere  inches  from  where  offender  had  been  standing.  it  was  going  to  be  a  long  weekend.  her  own  fault,  if  she  thinks  about  it,  for  volunteering  to  work,  but  what  else  was  hana  going  to  do?  events  like  this  drip  in  everything  dirk  would’ve  adored    &    it  leaves  too  bitter  a  taste  in  her  mouth  for  her  to  truly  enjoy.  reaching  down,  she  all  but  snatches  up  rubbish.  in  her  haste,  shoulder  bumps  into  another  person.      ＂    shit.  sorry.      —      don’t  blame  me.  blame  the    …    ＂      long,  deep  breath  in.  don’t  be  rude,  be  professional.      ＂    …    people  who  were  apparently  never  taught  to  tidy  up  after  themselves.    ＂

[hoggleswart]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓:        oh,  i  did  it  wrong? 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:    the  burren  quidditch  campgrounds,  pre-game. 𝐅𝐎𝐑:        closed  to  minette  merrythought    (    @hcldmybroom    )

＂    there’s  nothing  wrong  with  recognising  when  you  need  some  self  -  improvement,  darling.    ＂      truthfully,  whether  they’ve  done  whatever  it  is  they’re  doing  correctly  or  not  is  entirely  lost  on  millie.  they’re  far  more  invested  in  charming  the  colour  of  their  nails  to  suit  the  theme  of  the  day;    green,  or  red,  set  to  change  depending  on  which  team  is  in  the  current  lead.  thumb  brushes  imaginary  dust  off  knuckles,  barely  even  sparing  minette  a  second  glance  until  another  thought  strikes  them.  one  they  find  far  more  interesting.      ＂    hey,  didn’t  you    &    flint  used  to  be  a  thing?  i  feel  like  i  read  that  in  a  tabloid  somewhere.    ＂      gaze  finally  turns  then,  curiosity  blending  in  with  wicked  glint.      ＂    between  us  two,  how  much  did  ya  bet  on  them  falling  off  their  broom  before  sunset?    ＂

[hoggleswart]

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:    the  burren  quidditch  campgrounds,  pre-game. 𝐅𝐎𝐑:        closed  to  viktor  krum    (    @viiktorious    )

＂    you’re  a  life  -  saver.      —      or  at  the  least,  a  tent  saver.  i  was  five  seconds  from  setting  fire  to  the  whole  thing  and  i’m  normally  a  pretty  patient  person.    ＂      kinda  had  to  be;    it  was  the  mom  in  her,  but  sometimes,  even  she  found  herself  slipping.  camping  wasn’t  an  exercise  mother    &    son  got  to  indulge  in  too  often.  between  working  any  shift  available  and  a  low  income,  the  most  she  could  offer  were  late  nights  in  their  backyard,  wrapped  in  blankets  while  perched  on  deckchairs.  today  was  a  much  -  overdue  adventure  for  them.  she  just  wished  she’d  been  able  to  afford  one  of  those  self  -  assembling  tents  rather  than  the  old  -  fashioned  muggle  version,  borrowed  from  a  colleague.  sleeves  are  rolled  up  to  elbows  and  the  back  of  her  hand  swipes  over  brow,  pushing  hair  outta  eyes  to  offer  viktor  a  relieved  smile.  of  all  the  people  to  save  her,  naturally  it  had  to  be  a  world  famouss  quidditch  player.      ＂    if  you  weren’t  already  his  hero,  you  definitely  are  now.    ＂      comment  is  added  on,  fond  gaze  spared  for  the  little  boy  now  happily  playing  with  toy  snitch  in  front  of  their  assembled  camp.      ＂    i’m  andie,    by  the  way.    ＂      arm  extends  towards  him  to  aid  introduction,  realising  while  she  knew  exactly  who  he  was,  she  remained  nameless.

[hoggleswart]

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:    the  burren  quidditch  campgrounds,  pre-game.

＂    and  who  will  you  be  cheering  on  today?    ＂      question  is  asked  in  high  spirits,  warmth  in  his  smile  that  hopefully  reassures  there’s  no  wrong  answer  here.  charitable  causes  aren’t  something  arthur  weasley  has  found  himself  able  to  participate  a  whole  lot  in  before.  attempts  have  been  made,  here    &    there    /    light  donations  made  anonymously  when  he  can,  but  such  generosity  wasn’t  always  doable  when  personal  funds  could  barely  put  school  supplies  on  the  table.  oh,  how  times  have  changed.  pocket  isn’t  quite  so  empty  anymore  and  though  he’s  no  rich  man,  humble  beginnings  remaining  humble  presents,�� his  current  life  has  seen  him  find  something  he  never  had  before;    comfortability.  the  chance  to  engage  without  guilt  or  concern.  tie  that  in  with  the  fact  he  stands  as  a  proud  father    &    sibling  to  two  teammates  due  to  play  later,  and  good  mood  is  evident,  eyes  alight  with  excitement.  not  even  the  fact  he’s  part  on  -  duty  has  dampened  buoyancy,  cheerfully  starting  conversation  with  another  as  they  all  await  the  start  of  the  match.      ＂    i  fear  family  loyalty  has  been  brought  into  questioning  when  it  comes  to  my  support.  my  daughter,  ginny,  is  on  one  team  and  her  uncle,  my  brother,  is  on  the  other.    ＂      and  if  it  sounds  like  a  shameless  brag,  that’s  because  that’s  absolutely  what  it  is,  unable  to  resist.

[lifefuls]

"ohhh, okay !" astoria trills, absolutely delighted to be drawn itno minette's orbit, even if it's only for a moment. unsteady on her heels ( thanks to copious amounts of alcohol AND her own inability to walk well in them sober ), she holds tight to the others hands for the sole purpose of keeping herself upright as she dances to the music blaring from the nearest speaker. "you look really pretty-" she tells her, shouting as loud as she can over the noise, a slight stumble over her own feet prompting the next words out of her mouth, "oops, sorry, i have two left feet."

𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: the campground, post game !! 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: open !!

celebrations and commiserations alike were spread out after the game, whether privately or around the campgrounds, and minette was never one to turn down a good party. her throat was already hoarse from the screaming and hollering she had done during the match, but who needed a voice when your skills on the dancefloor spoke for themselves (not great, but having a good time). in the moment, minette grabs the hands of the nearest person and pulls them to her, bringing them into the throng of the makeshift dancefloor. "come on! get movin' will you!"

[hoggleswart]

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:    the  burren  quidditch  campgrounds,  pre-game. 𝐅𝐎𝐑:        closed  to  marietta  edgecombe    (    @judvs    )

and  it’s  not  as  if  lavender  overly  cares  about  highschool  betrayals  many  years  ago.      —      mocking  voice  in  her  head  reminds  her  she’d  be  a  damn  hypocrite  if  she  did.  she  isn’t  even  sure  if  she  cared  much  back  then  either;    loyalty  to  dumbledore’s  army  running  only  skin  deep,  until  that  final  year  cemented  it  further.  no,  that  isn’t  why  gaze  is  awkwardly  eyeing  tentmate  over  the  flames  of  a  day  time  campfire.  the  real  problem  is,  it’s  just  been  so  long  since  they  came  face  to  face  with  one  another  that  they  might  as  well  be  strangers  and  social  communication  is  no  longer  a  talent  wolf  possesses.  another  quiet  moment  passes  between  them  before  she  finally  clears  throat,  picks  the  first  topic  that  springs  to  mind.      ＂    i  might  be  tattooing  viktor  krum  soon.    ＂      already  half  -  empty    (  she  started  early    /    had  to,  unenthused  with  all  the  quidditch  talk  surrounding  them  )    bottle  of  firewhiskey  is  extending,  offering  it  to  the  other.      ＂    do  you  think  someone  that  famous  can,  like,  sue  me  if  he  wakes  up    &    regrets  it?    ＂

[hoggleswart]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓:        only  rich  people  can  afford  to  be  this  filthy. 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:    the  burren  quidditch  campgrounds,  post-game. 𝐅𝐎𝐑:        closed  to  luca  moltisanti    (    @woesbegone    )

hum  of  agreement  comes  almost  instantly,  eyes  that  are  admittedly  more  envious  than  judgemental  lingering  on  the  extravagant  tent  they’ve  walked  by.      ＂    it’s    …    obscene.    ＂      but  merlrin,  does  a  part  of  her  wish  she  could  see  the  inside;    just  to  catch  a  quick  glimpse  at  how  the  other  half  live.      —      call  it  glutton  for  punishment.  hands  stay  resting  on  marco’s  shoulders,  keeping  him  close  in  front  of  her  to  stop  little  boy  from  running  towards  something  she  absolutely  could  not  afford  to  compensate  if  curious  hands  broke.      ＂    do  you  ever  wonder  what  kinda  problems  rich  people  have?    ＂      it’s  a  whole  other  world  to  her.  the  macnairs  had  never  been  well  -  off  as  much  as  well  -  looked  after.  until  they  weren’t.      ＂    or  do  they  pay  people  to  worry  for  them  too?    ＂

[hoggleswart]

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:    the  burren  quidditch  pitch,  during  game. 𝐅𝐎𝐑:        closed  to  astoria  greengrass    (    @lifefuls    )

it  takes  him  a  hot  minute    (  or  five  )    to  get  back  to  seat.  crowd  around  them  is  going  wild  as  game  continues  and  every  time  a  bouncing  body  jostles  against  him,  the  tray  of  drinks  justin  is  attempting  to  hold  just  above  his  head  wobbles,  liquid  spilling  over  onto  him.  there’s  even  a  moment  when  he  suddenly  thinks  game  over;    shoulder  jutting  into  his.  he  loses  balance,  half  -  falling    /    half  -  hopping  to  the  side,  but  by  sheer  dumb  luck,  footing  settles.  shaky  breath  is  released  and  journey  continues.  finally,  somehow,  former  hufflepuff  makes  it  back.      ＂    hey.    ＂      the  smile  he  offers  astoria  is  still  bright,  even  if  slightly  frazzled.  drinks  lower,  cups  still  impressively  full  given  the  chaotic  circumstances,  and  offers  first  dibs  of  the  various  choices  to  her.      ＂    i  have  a  small  confession.  the  queue  was  so  long  that  by  the  time  i  got  there?      —      i  forgot  what  you  asked  for    &    i  didn’t  wanna  bring  the  wrong  one,  so.  i  got  one  of  each.  just  in  case.    ＂

[antigonai]

"... yeah, alright-" honestly, she only pretends to think about it. antigone could've stayed in her van when she went back to let argos out to stretch his legs and to give him a bit of later dinner, but she'd been tempted by the early stage partying she'd had to walk through to get back there. she wanted to enjoy it and so far, so good, though cho's quieter tent and only having to field questions from one person, for a minute, was a welcome break after a few hours of total chaos. she takes a sip of the firewhiskey, unaffected by the taste at this point in the night, then holds it back out to the other - it did belong to her, after all. "too much magic, i'd wager," she doesn't know that for sure ( and the burren itself is probably the kind of isolated that leads to poor reception ), but it sounds about right, "are you hanging out here on your own? or did you lose everyone?"

location: the campground with: open

"want some?" she's offering a half empty bottle of firewhisky, curly straw sticking out of the top, as she tries once again to call literally any of the other people in their tent. cho has lost her friends to the crush of partying that is taking place around the campground. it's times like these that she's kicking herself for drinking once again. she's easily distracted enough as it is, add at least half a bottle of firewhisky and a few fireworks and cho has absolutely no chance of keeping track of where her pack of similarly inebriated friends have taken themselves off too. "how are we outside with absolutely no signal?" she's practically whining to the first person to stop and give her even the slightest ounce of attention.

[hoggleswart]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓:        change  the  subject. 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:    the  burren  quidditch  campgrounds,  pre-game. 𝐅𝐎𝐑:        closed  to  tempest  clearwater    (    @rebuildeds    )

＂    …    uh,  right.  sure.  subject.  i  can  do  that.  i  can  change  the  subject,  no  problem.    ＂      head  nods  in  slow  enthusiasm,  though  no  further  words  follow  because  what  even  are  words  anymore?  as  confident  as  justin  might’ve  been  about  a  new  topic,  mind  draws  completely  blank  when  he  actually  starts  to  search  for  one.  boy  has  never  coped  well  under  pressure.  it’s  not  as  if  tempest  is  being  unreasonable,  mind.  their  request  is  fair,  having  already  been  forced  to  endure  former  hufflepuff  prattling  on  about  dragons  the  last  few  minutes.  fingers  drum  a  silent,  thoughtful  beat  against  thighs,  shifting  in  seated  position  while  eyes  drink  in  their  surroundings,  searching  for  another  conversation  starter  when    (  finally  )    the  most  obvious  one  reveals  itself.      ＂    the  game!    ＂      exclamation  comes  out  a  little  louder  than  planned;    half  -  suggesting    /    half  -  shouting,  and  throat  clears  right  after  to  repeat  it  at  a  lower  octave.      ＂    i  mean,  the  game.  we  can  talk  about  the  game.  are  you  nervous?    ＂      merlin,  justin,  talking  to  people  really  doesn’t  have  to  be  this  difficult.

[hoggleswart]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓:        you  should  let  yourself  go  once  in  a  while. 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:    a  fancy  hotel  near  the  burren,  post-game. 𝐅𝐎𝐑:        closed  to  luca  moltisanti    (    @woesbegone    )

＂    i  let  myself  go  as  much  as  i  need  to.  anything  more  than  that,  and  people  might  get  hurt.    ＂      it’s  all  a  matter  of  discipline,  or  at  least  that’s  what  he  tells  himself    &    other  people.  the  real  truth  is  ezekiel’s  manner  has  become  so  deeply  ingrained  in  him  that  he  doesn’t  know  how  to  be  anything  or  anyone  else.  can’t  teach  an  old  dog  new  tricks.      —      isn’t  that  the  popular  assumption?  actions  speak  louder  than  old  -  fashioned  theories  though  and  there  certainly  seems  to  be  a  softer  approach  in  tonight’s  attitude  as  hands  pull  hotel  room  duvet  up  to  cover  luca  further,  a  hint  of  concern  for  another  person’s  well  -  being  seeping  through  an  otherwise  usually  cold  demeanour.  it  isn’t  the  night  he  envisioned  for  himself,  but  if  anyone  was  going  to  interrupt  plans,  there’s  relief  to  be  found  in  the  fact  it’s  someone  zeke  doesn’t  find  completely  intolerable.      ＂      besides,  you’re  clearly  more  than  capable  of  having  enough  fun  for  the  BOTH  of  us.    ＂      own  body  drops  down  into  nearby  armchair  with  a  hefty  sigh,  reaching  to  untie  boot  laces.      ＂    do  i  even  want  to  know  what  you  did  to  end  up  in  that  tent?    ＂

[hoggleswart]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓:        i  don't  like  to  be  manhandled! 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:    near  the  minister’s  box,  the  burren  quidditch  field,  pre-game. 𝐅𝐎𝐑:        closed  to  nikolai  karkaroff    (    @monstrovs    )

＂    you  seem  to  be  mistaking  me  for  somebody  who  actually  cares.    ＂      gruff  response  is  short,  sweet.  just  enough  to  the  point,  grip  barely  loosening  from  niko’s  upper  arm  as  he  guides    (  or  more  accurately,  forcibly  re  -  directs  )    them  back  towards  the  minister’s  box.  it’s  an  all  -  too  -  familiar  battle  between  elder  burke  and  young  karkaroff;    a  repetitive  cycle  they  always  appear  to  find  themselves  in,  especially  at  grand  events  like  this.      ＂    you’re  due  on  the  pitch  in  an  hour.  could  you  at  least  attempt  to  behave  until  then?  it’s  for  charity.    …    save  all  that  aggression  for  the  pitch.  i’ve  got  money  riding  on  you.  maybe  i  can  actually  profit  outta  you  being  a  constant  pain  in  my  ass.    ＂

[sibylliine]

the usual discomfort at being perceived does NOT come when he's recognized, instead he offers a gentle smile. "yeah, that's my name... yours?" he's already walking towards them, one hand outstretched for them to take if they wish to do so, just in case there was a need for an equally drunk but steadier hand. he can hear the cheers from other people in the background, and he can guess it's almost time to head back down and continue giving his liver a hard time. "wanna come with? i have my wallet now, can invite you a drink or two if you haven't tapped out yet."

"damaris," they tell him, misreading the offer of a steadying hand as a formal greeting and gripping it more as a handshake than anything else, "you're, like... really important. i didn't think that important people got drunk with riff raff." not that they consider themself to BE riff raff, per se, but there's a definite wage gap between them both that in damaris' mind dictates viktor be sipping on expensive whiskey's from equally expensive tumblers while they down a solo cup of jungle juice. there's just a novelty to all this that they can't ignore. "you know what, viktor ?" they delight in his name, or more accurately the feeling that they could be on a first name basis, and smile widely back at him, "i'd really like that. and just between you and me, i've got half a joint in my back pocket that you're more than welcome to share, so..."

[hoggleswart]

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:    the  burren  quidditch  campgrounds,  pre-game.

＂    sir,  no.  that  is  not  where  that    …    sir!  you  need  to  pick  that  up.    ＂      stern  tone  appears  to  fall  on  deaf    (  or  ignorant  )    ears,  because  the  person  roshana  is  attempting  to  reach  only  continues  to  walk  further  away,  refusing  to  spare  the  litter  they’ve  just  carelessly  discarded  on  the  floor  a  second  glance.  jaw  clenches  tight,  teeth  grinding  together    &    she  opts  to  let  this  one  go.  it  isn’t  even  five  yet.  the  night  is  still  young;    best  to  save  that  energy  for  the  chaos  that’s  bound  to  start  once  game  finishes.      ＂    the  bin  was  right  there.    ＂      exasperated  words  are  spoken  more  to  herself  this  time,  casting  a  sigh  in  the  direction  of  the  trashcan  mere  inches  from  where  offender  had  been  standing.  it  was  going  to  be  a  long  weekend.  her  own  fault,  if  she  thinks  about  it,  for  volunteering  to  work,  but  what  else  was  hana  going  to  do?  events  like  this  drip  in  everything  dirk  would’ve  adored    &    it  leaves  too  bitter  a  taste  in  her  mouth  for  her  to  truly  enjoy.  reaching  down,  she  all  but  snatches  up  rubbish.  in  her  haste,  shoulder  bumps  into  another  person.      ＂    shit.  sorry.      —      don’t  blame  me.  blame  the    …    ＂      long,  deep  breath  in.  don’t  be  rude,  be  professional.      ＂    …    people  who  were  apparently  never  taught  to  tidy  up  after  themselves.    ＂

[hoggleswart]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓:        daddy  always  said  that  i'd  end  up  at  the  bottom  of  the  thames. 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:    the  burren  quidditch  campgrounds,  pre-game. 𝐅𝐎𝐑:        closed  to  astoria  greengrass    (    @lifefuls    )

the  silence  that  follows  her  declaration  is  one  of  both  bemusement    &    surprise.  rendering  oskar  catchlove  temporarily  silent  is  no  easy  feat.  from  a  young  age,  charming  tongue  always    (  even  when  he  shouldn’t  )    appeared  to  have  a  smart  answer  for  everything,  but  somehow?      —      astoria  has  succeeded  where  many  others  previously  failed.  the  stunned  silence  thankfully  doesn’t  linger  long,  however,  features  soon  easing  into  a  laugh  that  manages  to  sound  only  slightly  uneasy.      ＂    well,  y’know    …    my  mom  used  to  tell  me  i’d  go  blind  if  i  didn’t  eat  my  carrots    &    here  i  am.  twenty  -  twenty  vision  still.    ＂      it  isn’t  the  same  by  any  standards,  but  metaphorical  ice  at  least  shatters,  his  shoulders  relaxing  as  initial  stumble  passes.  just  because  comment  caught  him  off  guard,  it  still  didn’t  come  close  to  being  the  strangest  confession  anyone  has  ever  told  him.      ＂    if  we  listened  to  everything  our  parents  told  us,  we’d  never  leave  the  house,  right?    ＂