#impcrios

[daisyhookumed]

Who: Daisy & Peter @impcriosWhere: St. Mungo's When: Blishwick Wing Grand Opening

Even though Daisy was only a few older than Peter and his friends, she often times felt like she was decades older after everything she had been through and lost. Somehow they seemed so much younger than she had been at their age and she wasn't so sure that she would have willingly joined the Order at twenty-four. They were braver than she was, she was quite sure of that. Daisy didn't think that she would have joined if Jasper was alive. They would have had a family to take care of, they had been talking about settling down and having kids before the accident. But now? Now Daisy was untethered to the mortal world, but she had to fight for Jasper.

"So this is where you spend all your time," Daisy mused, stepping up beside Peter. "They did a nice job with making it look pretty. I bet this place doesn't usually look like this, huh?" She asked curiously.

[bryonyparkinsons]

Who: Bryony & Rodolphus @impcrios Where: St. Mungo's When: Blishwick Wing Grand Opening

The corridors were packed and she had somehow lost sight of Valerian. Well...she had last left him at the bar and when she returned he had been gone, not surprising, really, but it was rather annoying. Just another thing to add to the horrible night. She still couldn't believe that Morcant was getting married. And Arden had known and didn't warn her ahead of time. The two of them were always keeping their damned secrets. That certainly hadn't changed from when they were children. It had been just as irritating then as it was now.

She was growing frustrated that nothing had gone her way tonight, and she nearly snapped at someone who stepped in her way, before she realized it was Rodolphus Lestrange. The last person that she should be snapping at. "Oh, Mr. Lestrange, how lovely to see you!" Bryony forced a smile onto her lips. "It seems that I've lost my husband, you haven't happened to see Valerian anywhere have you?"

[reveliios]

𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚂: closed | 𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽: pumpkin carving contest | 𝚃𝙰𝙶𝚂: @impcrios

❝  you  totally  hexed  my  pumpkin,  didn't  you  ?  ❞  alice  accuses  mary,  playfully  shoving  her  with  her  elbow.  before  completely  giving  up,  she  waves  her  wand  at  the  stubborn  pumpkin,  which  sputters  and  glows  very  faintly  before  spitting  out  an  angry  puff  of  green  smoke.  ❝  it's  supposed  to  be  enchanted  to  glow  with  a  soft  golden  light  —  what's  with  the  green  ?  mary,  help  !  ❞  she  adds,  exasperated.

[eviemacs]

Who: Evie & Peter @impcrios Where: St. Mungo's Break Room When: Early shift, a few days after the event

It had been a long shift, and Evie was exhausted. Things had somehow seemed crazier at the hospital and beyond than it had been last month. She had been called out to deal with an accident in the middle of the night, and it had taken up most of her shift. Now it was getting towards the end, and she was just ready to get home and collapse in her bed and sleep for twelve hours. She had been fantasizing about it for the last two hours. She dragged herself into the break room, relieved that she could leave soon. She spotted Peter already there and offered him a tired smile.

"Coming or going?" She asked curiously. Sometimes, it was hard to tell around here, especially with all the hours that they had been doing lately.

[treachrus]

Closed starter for @impcrios (regulus)

Severus nursed the same flute of champagne all evening. He was less interested in getting drunk at such events and more interested in making connections and digging up secrets. Keen eyes scanned the room, weighing the response to the Minister’s speech. Filing away names, faces, odd reactions. His eyes fell upon a familiar figure in the distance. Regulus made his way through the crowd with the haughty tilt expected of a Black, well dressed and superior, with the newly acquired family ring gleaming in the bright lights. Severus suppressed a smile as he approached. Even from afar, Regulus looked desperately unhappy to be here. 

“ Lord Black, ” Severus greeted. “ So good of you to grace these wretched halls with your presence. We are all ever so grateful to set our unworthy eyes upon your Lordship. How can we express the true depth of our gratitude? An impossible task! ”

[reveliios]

lucius  narrows  his  eyes,  the  flicker  of  a  smirk  playing  on  his  lips,  though  it’s  unclear  whether  it’s  amusement  or  something  more  cutting.  ❝  just  because  you’re  not  unhappy  doesn’t  mean  you  are  happy,  ❞  he  repeats,  letting  the  word  hang  in  the  air  as  though  it  were  foreign,  a  concept  to  be  analyzed  rather  than  felt.  ❝  it  doesn’t  matter  anyway.  happiness  has  never  been  the  goal  for  people  like  us.  ❞ he  steps  closer,  his  posture  still  impossibly  composed,  yet  his  tone  carries  a  weight  that  suggests  he’s  not  one  to  shy  away  from  confrontation,  especially  when  the  stakes  feel  personal.  ❝  you  speak  as  though  you’ve  found  it.  freedom,  joy,  whatever  fleeting  thrill  it  is  you  feel  when  you’re  away  from  this  world.  ❞  he  gestures  subtly  but  pointedly  as  if  to  indicate  the  grand  traditions  and  expectations  they  both  carry.  ❝  and  yet  you’re  here  —  back  where  the  chains  are  heaviest,  pretending  you  can  hold  your  head  high  while  simultaneously  asking  questions  you  already  know  the  answers  to.  ❞ lucius  pauses,  his  gaze  steady  and  probing.  ❝  am  i  happy  ?  ❞  he  echoes,  his  voice  dipping  into  something  quieter.  ❝  happiness  isn’t  a  measure  of  success,  narcissa.  power  is.  legacy  is.  ❞  he  then  tilts  his  head  slightly,  studying  her  expression,  searching  for  any  reaction.  ❝  and  you  ?  you  have  your  dragons,  your  precious  career.  but  don’t  think  for  a  moment  that  they  can  replace  the  name  you  carry  or  the  duties  you’re  bound  to  fulfill.  the  world  doesn’t  care  how  fulfilled  you  feel  when  the  black  name  is  tarnished  or  when  bloodlines  fail.  ❞ lucius  lets  out  a  breath,  the  intensity  of  his  words  softening  just  slightly,  but  his  gaze  remains  piercing.  ❝  so  no,  narcissa,  i  am  not  happy.  i  am  content.  because  i  know  what  i  am  and  what  i  must  do.  and  so  do  you.  ❞  he  straightens,  his  demeanor  cooling,  as  he  thinks  of  the  girl  in  fifth  year  and  what  he  thought  happiness  was.  the  thoughts  don't  last  long  and  there’s  an  unmistakable  note  of  challenge  in  his  voice  as  he  continues.  ❝  the  real  question  isn’t  whether  i’m  happy.  it’s  whether  you’re  prepared  to  stop  chasing  your  fantasies  and  face  what’s  real.  ❞

she can't help but roll her eyes at his first sentence, it sounded condescending in the tone that he said it, but she let it go. they knew when to pick their battles and she wasn't about to go sprouting off on the apprenticeship that she had under her belt or the fact that she had been in her line of work for over six years now. they weren't an idiot when it came to lucius malfoy, they had been in the same house, same year, knew that his father died and ended up being the head of his house, too young for anyone, and at the moment it had happened she had felt bad for him. it would be a loss to lose a parent, a loss to have an empty mansion with ghosts not seen, and a younger sister and mother to care for. she sees it then, the first sign of emotion, the irritation, her mask is composed again, the shift in tone changing once more. her mother had tried to beat her into submission when it came to proper etiquette and decorum, chastising them that they said whatever came to their mind. she takes a deep breath, listening to him, trying to understand, but there's a very deep part of her that just feels doomed. maybe even a bit sad. 'you don't think i couldn't have any girl i wanted,' she raises an eyebrow at that, her arms crossed, clutching her wand, and when he keeps talking and painting the picture of the kind of wife that she should be, she gulps, her jaw slackening at the thought. then lucius goes for the jugular, as any slytherin would. she can't help but the corner of her lip almost turning upward. maybe he had been right, maybe she did want to be different so badly, but there was one thing that she clung onto. "i'm not unhappy, malfoy." at least, in terms of her career life. in fact, she felt like she was finally free. they had a job that they loved, a place to call home in england and in romania. they had dragons that they cared for since they were born, that only knew narcissa as their loyal caretaker. the only thing that truly made her unhappy was the fact that andromeda was gone. 'what  is  it  i'm  working  for,  or  that  you'll  allow  me  to  work  for', before she can even answer she hears it. toujours  pur. she could react in anger, in fact, she wanted to punch him in the face. but they wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "are they?" she asks, are they truly happy? they could name many girls in their year who would speak only ever in the dark about how it felt like being someone's property to be betrothed to someone but no one ever said the quiet part out loud. "are you? aside from gaining the black name and my family? are you happy?" whatever his answer would be, it would always come back to family duty and honour. maybe that's what it would always be between the two of them. it made her sad for the both of them.

[enchantmecnts]

the fall of the house usher ft. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𓂃 *  FRIEND. You must leave this house. USHER. How can I? These walls are my skin. This room is my heart. Besides, I have a sister.

@impcrios , @carnalscreams

[scahrred]

starter for @impcrios ( regulus ) ! | WHERE : ancestor's lantern release.

his problem is that he can recognize regulus anywhere. twin intuition without them even being twins. the only person sirius knows better than himself. at least, he used to. recently, he hasn't seen a hint of regulus anywhere : as if his brother were hiding from him. maybe he deserved that. except for tonight ; he knows that gait and those ridiculous shoes, even from afar. a blessing or a curse, he isn't sure, but he's stalking after the figure, passing by wixen writing messages and releasing lanterns to those that have passed. ' will you slow down ? ' he huffs, lengthening his strides. ' the least you could do is look me in the eye and explain why you've stopped answering my owls. '

[bcrtiesjr]

anonymous asked: what is something or someone you know you can't afford to lose? how far are you willing to go to make sure you don't lose it/them?

“ well, there’s this... mate, i think- ” @impcrios

a particularly sorrowful smile contrasted with the charming gleam in his eyes.

he couldn’t think about it. he couldn’t imagine it. losing him? no. anything else. he was willing to lose anything, but not him. not reg. impossible. he wouldn’t bear it. and barty certainly knew a thing or two about bearing burdens.

september, 1973.

a boy with dark hair, bright eyes, and pale skin stepped into view, lingering for a moment in the doorway of the train compartment. barty, draped in his slytherin robes, let his gaze settle on the stranger.

oh.

he’s cute. why’s he so bloody cute? i reckon i want to know him. think he’d want to be mates?

" who would want to be your mate? " his father’s voice echoed in his mind. a seventeen-year-old barty subtly furrowed his brow.

how long’ve i been staring? pretty sure he said something. what was it? didn’t catch it, but his voice—his voice is nice too. why’s he looking at me? he’s probably waiting for an answer—what did he ask?

ah.

" yeah, go on, have a seat. i’m barty. " he offered a crooked, slightly awkward smile, and from that moment, they were inseparable.

later, barty would learn more about regulus. he wanted to know everything—every little detail. and the thought of having a lifetime to discover it all thrilled him.

barty had never known friendship. his first year at hogwarts had been solitary, though at the time, he hadn’t minded it in the least. raised under the harsh authority of his father, within the confines of their home, his world was limited—narrow, even. he had never known anything beyond it, and without that frame of reference, there was no way to compare.

until he met reggie.

1974.

summers were nothing short of a nightmare. his relationship with his father had only soured since he’d arrived at hogwarts. all he did was study—no time for anything else. he couldn’t go out, couldn’t write. he had grown used to his room in slytherin, to telling regulus about his day. but now, it was just silence. and sometimes, as he lay awake at night, he’d find himself thinking of everything he could write to his friend. but then… what would he say?

" ah, yes. today they let me starve because i couldn’t cast a spell properly. "

no, of course not.

once september arrived and they were back at hogwarts, barty could forget the miserable summer. he could leave it all behind and simply listen to reg talk about his. and that, in its purest form, made him happy.

tell me more. what’s that? how was it? how did it feel? did you travel? that sounds amazing! did you stay up late? i’m sorry i didn’t write. i wanted to. would you have liked to receive one of my letters? did you eat well? tell me everything.

and that was the year he realised he could listen to reg speak for as long as it took, just to escape his own life.

1975.

the summers remained the same, but the thought of returning to hogwarts gave him just enough strength to avoid crumbling under the weight of the unbearable arguments with his father.

" you know, sometimes i feel like my father hates me… "

it was the first time barty ever spoke to regulus about his summer, about his father, about everything. and he had never felt so good talking about something that hurt him so deeply.

he couldn’t quite remember when or how it happened, but before he knew it, he was caught in a whirlwind of endless conversations, each one pulling him further away from the darkness he’d always felt he belonged in.

it was then that regulus became the brightest star in his world.

1976.

i'm going to kill him. i’m going to bloody kill sirius black.

and that was the year barty realised he truly would kill for regulus. he pictured himself in azkaban afterwards, and didn’t care. not if it meant easing some of regulus’s pain. not if it meant somehow paying back all that regulus had done for him without even realising it.

barty couldn’t understand sirius’s decision—he wasn’t the kind of person to feel empathy easily. it wasn’t often that someone could provoke such a reaction from him, but the rage clouded his thoughts. yes, he understood that life in the black household was complicated, but... how complicated could it be? in barty’s eyes, nothing could ever be complicated enough to leave regulus to face it alone. not like that.

and that year, barty realised other things too.

like how beautiful regulus looked while sleeping, for instance. after long nights of talking, they’d sometimes just fall asleep. and barty cherished those moments.

had that freckle always been there? he loved it.

had his eyes always been that colour? he could never stop staring at them.

and his smile…? barty’s stomach twisted every time he saw it.

oh. god. he really fancied regulus black. more than anything in this world.

1977

by the time his last year at hogwarts arrived, barty could no longer hide his feelings. but he couldn’t bring himself to say them out loud. barty was good at keeping his true thoughts to himself, especially when he knew that falling for his best friend was a mistake.

and there was no way regulus could ever feel the same.

how could he?

barty didn’t deserve him; regulus was a kind of perfection barty could never hope for. even though that thought lingered constantly in his mind, his body betrayed his intentions whenever regulus was near.

and then, a kiss.

and another kiss.

and another.

and another, deeper this time. less clothes.

and it repeats.

it happens again in the dormitories, in the bathrooms, in the common room, at parties, in broom closets, during summer, on holidays, in their homes, everywhere they can.

it was a good final year.

and things haven’t changed all that much.

except now, barty understands things differently.

he understands that no matter how many years pass, regulus will never return what barty feels. and that’s okay because they’re still best friends, still the most important person in his life, and barty will take whatever regulus has for him.

he understands that, quite literally, he’d do anything for regulus. kill or die, whatever it takes to keep the brightest star shining.

and he understands that he could never exist in a world where regulus doesn’t exist. _

oh. what was the question again?

[petrificusx]

setting: st mungo’s, blishwick wing opening celebration featuring: ted tonks & peter pettigrew @impcrios

Ted forced another gulp of soda water, grimacing. He hadn’t chosen the drink because he particularly cared for it, he just felt wrong standing there in his nicely pressed healer robes sipping champagne or any other beverage when a few floors below a dear patient was suffering with Fwooper cough, or an uncontrollable rash and boils after a potion misfire. He loved his job. He loved everything about it. From helping people feel better to the challenges of diagnosing a patient and finding the right treatment — there was never a second he regretted the path he’d chosen. From those weekend concurrent study programs at St. Mungo’s his seventh year until now, just over half a decade later, there hadn’t been a doubt in his mind that he was meant to be there helping people. So he really didn’t like being in this new wing, at a fancy schmamcy party, welcoming people in and representing the hospital for the big wigs. He felt like he was on display, a commodity for the investors, prospective donors, and the esteemed guests to gawk at. And being so ridiculously tall and broad already made him look so out of place — the lime green robes only served to make things worse.

At least he wasn’t alone in being paraded about. Healer Pettigrew was also among the unfortunate healers and mediwix asked to make an appearance, outside of their normal long hours. Ted wanted to escape, to stop at that muggle place he loved for a curry and head home to catch the weekly quidditch highlights on the wireless. He figured Peter probably felt a bit similarly about everything, so he’d found himself near his fellow St. Mungo’s staff mate, sighing against his glass as he lowered it onto the table in defeat. “You think they’ll notice if I just slip out?” He asked Peter curiously, giving him a wry smile as he cast a sideways glance in the mediwix’s direction. “I mean, does this mysterious ‘anonymous patron’ really care if I’m not here for their big reveal? We know my pockets don’t run as deep as some of these other guests — and everything about this feels for show… How bad do you think our Chief Healer would berate me if I just… disappeared?” His brows rose, “Think I’ll get stuck with charting as punishment?”

[edgcrmb]

returning to that house stirred up a dangerous mix of emotions. a whirlpool of sensations tightened in the pit of his stomach, so intense it nearly made him feel ill. but he knew his mission there was of the utmost importance. and that, under no circumstances, should anyone in the order find out. his fingers trailed along the dark, familiar walls as he moved through the old corridors, a smile occasionally flickering on his lips whenever a flash of memory surfaced. " i always thought they could’ve done a bit more with the tapestry... never liked this colour, " he remarked, making his presence known, leaning casually against the doorframe. his gaze fell on regulus, and a lump caught in his throat. " alright, reg? " he asked, raising an eyebrow. " kreacher let me in, of course. i suppose i still have some pure-blood privileges around here, " he added with a hint of sarcasm, the words leaving a dry taste in his mouth. he needed to know how regulus was after that disastrous event. although, truth be told, he wasn’t sure if he feared more for his well-being or for the growing reality of his suspicions. " don’t worry, i won’t be here long. "

ft. 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 ( @impcrios ) 📍 GRIMMAULD PLACE

[daisyhookumed]

Who: Daisy & Rodolphus @impcrios Location: Ministry of Magic, Auror offices When: Morning after Samhain

It had been unnerving, seeing that ghastly mark in the sky. There had been whispers of war for a while, but seeing that mark displayed in the sky had been a wake-up call. Daisy had been working her booth, selling her book at the behest of her publishers during the festival, but the moment that that mark appeared she had switched from author to journalist. She had been up all night working on an article, but she just needed one more thing before it could be published. A comment from the Aurors. She was used to being in the Ministry for Prophet business, but she never particularly liked speaking to Rodolphus Lestrange.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. "Mr. Lestrange? Do you have a moment to talk to me? I'm from the Prophet."

[bryonyparkinsons]

Who: Bryony & Mary @impcrios Location: Diagon Alley near Gringotts When: Few days after Samhain

The streets of Diagon Alley were quieter than usual. Bryony supposed that all of that business with the Dark Mark had scared some people, but she knew that she had nothing to be frightened about. Her father had the mark, as did many people in her social circle. Of course, she didn't have one, that would be unseemly, but she could quietly support the cause in her own way. It made her pleased to know that soon, they would return to the rightful way that society should be sooner rather than later had her in a good mood. The money purse filled with galleons certainly helped.

She was in such a good mood that she barely noticed bumping into someone. It was only when she heard their voice that she turned. "Oh. Macdonald. I didn't see you there."

[reveliios]

𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚂: closed | 𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽: ministry lobby | 𝚃𝙰𝙶𝚂: @impcrios

classes  were  cancelled  for  the  day  after  samhain  —  it  made  sense  not  only  because  of  what  each  student  witnessed  towards  sunrise,  but  also  because  they  had  been  up  all  night  until  past  sunrise.  sybill  barely  slept  these  days,  so  finding  herself  at  the  ministry  not  long  after  the  hogsmeade  events  wasn't  too  odd  for  her  already  odd  self.  ❝  sorry  to  bother,  ❞  she  asks  the  first  person  she  sees  once  exiting  the  floo  fireplaces,  ❝  i  don't  quite  remember  which  floor  houses  the  beasts  division.  my  father  works  at  that  one,  you  know,  just  trying  to  see  how  he's  —  ❞  she  pauses  as  soon  as  she  recognizes  the  others  face.  she  knew  him  in  school  —  well,  actually friends  —  but  sybill  was  sure  she  was  no  one  he  recognized anymore.  ❝  rodolphus  lestrange,  ❞  she  says  slowly,  tone  low.  ❝  busy  day.  ❞

[eviemacs]

"Sometimes you need to break the rules, Pettigrew," Evie told him with a grin. "I thought that you would know that, Mr. Gryffindor," she teased with a laugh. This so-called rebellious streak had only recently begun, probably around the time she and Amos started to get serious. She didn't want to attend the night in her robes. "I will gladly cosign anything that you file. I don't understand why they think we have to shine bright in our robes to be effective. Wearing a neutral color for once would be a nice change." Evie knew that they had a point when they were out in the field, but she argued that sometimes it brought them into more danger. "It's been okay so far," she told him. "How about you? Are you having a good night?" She asked him.

"i'm so jealous that you don't stick out like a sore thumb like the rest of us, macmillan," he laughed, shaking his head looking at her outfit. she looked great, but everyone knew that peter worked here with his robes. "i swear to merlin, i'm going to file a complaint on our work outfit, this is ridiculous." he rubs his hands over his face and shakes his head. "are you having a good night at least?" he asks, with a raised eyebrow. being in the order he was constantly watching alastor while also trying to do his job with greeting people.

[nobelandloved]

Elowen and Narcissa - we'll have a good time as long as we're together @impcrios

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟⠀ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟

Elowen wasn't one to complain much about the " burden of a family name". She knew it offered her some privilege in this world that she was in no hurry to give up. At least when she decided to look at her crystal glass as half full that was the thought she was content with. However, tonight was a glass half empty sort of evening and the very last thing Elowen cared to do was play kissy face with a bunch of derelic wixen who considered themselves a gift among the magic folk of the world. It was often insufferable self importance and there was only so much tongue biting Elowen could endure before her mouth filled with blood and her inside thoughts became outside repercussions. It was better for everyone if she stayed home, or better yet in her office or abroad working. But she was a Nott, "That name means something young lady-" in case she forgot, in case she could ever forget. "You will dress appropriately, clean the quill ink from your fingers and show up-" she'd rolled her eyes when the words left her fathers mouth. Were muggle parents like this with their adult children? She'd not had a moment to ponder it entirely before her father added, "and you will be pleasent," as if he had read her mind and knew she would have been dour to be there. In answer Elowen gave her father a sardonic smile and left.

Doing as she was told Elowen arrived in a billowy white gown that hit above her knee, with an exposed back and fabric that folded ornately outward in the appearance of wings. She thought an angel in a medical building fitting and far be it to deny her fathers wishes. She only had so many outright disobdient actions she could take, so she picked them carefuly. However, if she was to be pleasent at all tonight she would need to seek out comfort. As if an answered prayer she drew beside a familiar face, pressing sweet la bise to either side of Narcissa's cheeks before giving them a silent look conveying all her annoyances, "You look every bit the vision this evening, Cissa," complimenting Elowen linked her arm delicately through her friends, "Lucky I found you when I did. I didn't know how I'd have a pleasant evening otherwise."