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[dierdra-jones]

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Saoirse Finnigan - September 2, 2027 Scorpius Malfoy - September 3, 2027 James Potter - September 6, 2027

Dierdra didn’t used to mind shopping in August. After leaving Hogwarts, it was almost a force of habit, even if she didn’t have any lists of books to purchase. It didn’t feel like anyone had been in her way, at first—no one cared so much when she left school, and a lot of the recent graduates milled around anyway to spend the last of their summer with their younger friends.

But August had become the season where she stuck out like a sore thumb, and not because of her height (though she was taller for a seeker). She didn’t mind autographs and a picture with a kid or two was fine… until families were lining up along the street when she had only come around to pick up ingredients from the apothecary.

September heralded cooler weather, anyway. But that didn’t stop her from coming out with a cone of ice cream from Fortescue’s, the scoops above still solid in spite of the heat. There were a few seats on the patio, though someone else had the same idea she did and reached for the same seat. Dierdra pulled the seat back but quickly pulled her hand away to acquiesce it. “Sorry—did you—?”

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[snakeinthestacks]

Date: 6 November 2027 

Starter: Open

Location: Diagon Alley

Albus groaned as he stepped out of his favorite coffee shop in the Alley, looking up at the beginnings of a November rain shower.  He'd not even made it home yet and already England was welcoming him back in proper fashion.  Fingers curled around his cup as he debated how best to proceed, an exceedingly slow process after the last seventy-two hours traveling like a muggle.

He'd been ensconced out in a dank old manor house, rendered unplottable and wrapped in anti-apparation charms to better obscure it's function.  He'd not even had mobile signal while he'd been out there in the middle of no where in Snowdonia.  At least he'd read a lot, though very little of it was for pleasure.  Sensitive Ministry documents, old intelligence documents from the muggle government, dispatches from old warriors and older sources.  A comb through old things trying to see if they could shake out anything new.  

Honestly, the most interesting part were his counterparts from His Majesty's government.  Spooks or whatever, though they shared little in common with actual ghosts.  

He'd done so little magic over his two week sabbatical.  Only when safely on the manor grounds had it been advisable.  He'd even traveled like a muggle, and if he never had to take the train from Cardiff to London again, Albus would be very happy indeed.  

“At least it's English rain,” he grumbled, pulling at his collar and turning it up against the beginnings of the storm.  He stepped to the side, letting someone join him under the awning.  “Just felt a little odd in Wales.  All open.  And woolen.”

[rockylittleone]

Time: September 24, 10pm

Location: Museum Lobby

Status: Open

A few sweet, shimmering cocktails deep and Roxanne lost her grip on her inhibitions. The company was great so far. She’d danced with a whole host of strange wix, enough so that her decision not to suffer heels was paying off big time. Unfortunately her stamina wasn’t anywhere near what it ought to have been, a break necessary to recoup before her legs turned to jelly. 

Clearly she wasn’t the only one with that idea, the lobby was more packed out than she’d anticipated. Roxanne grabbed the first spare seat she could find. Determined to be social, she turned to the person beside her. “Helluva party, right?”

[qvidditchstar]

Madley Magical-Muggle Expo status : open

Rose Weasley was not against the integration of muggle technology with magic, no it had always been the idea to abolish the Statute of Secrecy that she had reservations about. In fact she thought technology was a delight – how could she not, having a muggleborn for a mother. Texting was far more convenient than using an owl, a pen was much more convenient and less messy than a quill, and she hated books on principle, so having information right at her fingertips – she would have liked to have the convenience while she was studying to be the next Minister for Magic. Back when she had a timeline for everything in life.

Back then her whole life was planned.  Graduate from Hogwarts, Intern for the Wizengamot, become a member of the Wizengamot, have kids – and so on until she replaced her mother for Minister. But that plan had caught in flames and now she found herself waiting to be revealed as one of the new faces of Firebolt. It should have been a seeker, after all they were better known for their speed. However, Rose was also known to zip and zap all throughout the pitch, the fastest chaser in the league. 

She smiled as she admired the broom, truly a thing of beauty, as she signed it – increasing it’s value immensely for the auction that would be held for it later. The auction profits would go into teaching children how to fly and the thought of being responsible for the happiness that came along with that made her smile. It seemed nothing could get her down today (a rarity as her demeanor has been sour as of late), but perhaps she spoke too soon as she didn’t even look to see who had invaded her space when she spoke, expecting it to be a Spudmore employee.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m in love. I’m in love with this broom – an inanimate object. Perhaps I really have lost my mind,” she chuckles, before lifting her head to look them in the eye.

[julian-wood]

Quality Quidditch Supplies 21-27 November 2021 open starter

Julian had theories about broom magic that extended beyond the purposes of being a good Quidditch broom. There was speed, maneuverability, stability, and most importantly, malleability—and maybe the limit to all of those factors was less about the player’s abilities and more about bad design. Still, that didn’t stop him from admiring the latest Firebolt model from the window like a second year with big dreams of making the house Quidditch team. 

“See, you can’t just order these online,” Julian mused. There were a lot of magical items—or local shops for that matter—that had started using online ordering. He was so close to pulling his hair out the next time someone said the words owl order. “You actually have to see them for yourself—anyway.”

He sounded wistful, pursing his lip slightly before finally coming to the reality that he was trying to avoid, even with all the mental calculation of how much gold he had to save for Quality Quidditch Supplies to take him seriously. At that point, they may as well have come out with a new model that was better and more expensive. 

“This is out of my price range—it’s terribly bad marketing really, if the only people who can afford something like this are professional Quidditch teams.”

[rose-ginevra]

Date: September 4th, 2027

Location: Diagon Alley

Starter: Open

“Don’t know the schedule, I have no interest in your need to speak with her, and I am certainly not her secretary,” Rose did her level best to push off another request for her to get a bear complete stranger in to see her mother. More than once she’d caught herself wondering if Hermione Granger had known the trouble she’d be getting her children into with her chosen career. Rose hadn’t heard from Hugo since all of this began but she didn’t doubt that he’d be just as buried in it and probably not enjoying that, either.

Why did anyone think they could get into the minister’s office simply because her children were involved? Most days they couldn’t even get in to see her if they wanted to, and especially not since Mum’s big policy changes. Rose would very much have liked the tell the multitude of people who had already stopped her on her way to lunch to bugger off but no doubt that would make the papers and then she’d have to deal with her mother, too.

As she felt another hand come down on her shoulder she whipped around, not seeing who it was before she opened her mouth. “Kindly leave me be so I can acquire food before my lunch break is over. I can’t get you or anyone else into the minister’s office!” She reach up to push her stray curls back out of her face, sighing when she recognized the person who had reached out to her. “Bloody... sorry. I just assumed you were someone else. I’ve been stopped three times between the bank and here already.”

[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-jones]

Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor 2-8 November 2027 open starter

Dierdra had no idea how phones worked. On the day she and Matilda had been surrounded, her phone pointed them out on a map with perfect clarity—that for once in her life, it had actually managed to become something useful. Now as she tried to scroll through the news, the screen was jumpy and took longer to load. Instead, she clicked at the screen, hoping that the weather forecast wasn’t miserable with a chance of getting your soul sucked out of you. 

She was quickly shuffling through the screen when she stepped to the counter, instead turning to the next person in line. “You can go next, if you want—I haven’t decided what I wanted.”

It was a bit of a lie; she knew what flavor she wanted already, but she was more distracted by the notifications. The reason she was getting ice cream was in part a thank you to Florean Fortescue for giving her a memory strong enough to fight off dementors. She desperately wanted to ask: did you see what I did a few days ago? 

But in truth, the only witness to her patronus is Matilda Nott. Maybe that was something that Dierdra just had to be okay with until the next time she was being haunted by a dementor.

[dierdra-jones]

open starter 24 September 2027, late evening National Museum of Quidditch (Centennial Gala)

There was no lack of friends around the party; there was no player in the league who wasn’t present. Dierdra watched her drinks and huddled close to the right people; one toe out of line meant the next day’s front page. 

But there was something about a new dress, sparking heels, and a mask that elevated her mood—regardless of how unoriginal the ensemble may be. That didn’t mean that others didn’t dress close to their team uniforms, though Dierdra was lucky that her team didn’t have some unfortunate combination of colors. 

Still, for all her cautiousness, it didn’t prevent her from accidentally elbowing someone as she turned to leave the Harpies group photo in front of the Wall of Fame. She had spotted Gwenog’s name, though she hadn’t seen him yet—though whatever dread she felt was soon pulled away as she tried to make eye contact with the person behind the mask. 

“I—“ She wasn’t really sure what she had done; her elbow had collided with something but it wasn’t as if she had enough strength to knock anyone over. She was no beater after all, but she had been cautioned against apologizing for what isn’t her fault—that was the referee’s job to figure it out. “—did you need help with something?”

[julian-wood]

Madley Magical-Muggle Expo - a choose your own booth adventure! — (1) the Madley Industries Scholarship — (2) the Appstronomer — (3) the JulyAugust WixTube Channel 2-12 December 2027 open starter

This was not the first time Julian had worked overtime, though there was no cause less worthy than any of the booths he had prepared over the last several weeks. His excitement kept him going; the morning coffee doing little to keep him awake, instead keeping his hands warm. 

Julian waved over the passerby, putting his drink on the spindly table that held stacks of pamphlets before moving around to where he had a poster levitating in his booth. “Let’s chat for a bit before it gets too busy, yeah?” 

He didn’t need to rehearse his elevator pitch, and there hadn’t exactly been a point in time he hadn’t found a way to shoehorn his work into a casual conversation. Was he becoming the douchebag who was constantly trying to network? 

Probably. But he didn’t see it that way; his own friends were so few and far between, and the naysayers towards integration were plenty. Any connections he could make wasn’t going to hurt.