buaidh no bas

grounds of flint castle, 26 july, evening

Tue, 31 Jul 2007 02:49:19 GMT

*hates to admit, even to herself, that she's relieved to step outside into the night air* *the Castle, after Hermione's and Harry's speeches, had felt too tense to her, and she's glad to be outside*

*she pauses to light a cigarette--her first in weeks--and promises herself she'll run an extra mile tomorrow to make up for it* *her hands aren't quite steady, it seems to her that the stakes have gone up exponentially (how in hells would you find a horcrux, let alone recognise it for what it was, let alone get it when it's bound to be so well-guarded, let alone...) and she's at an utter loss as to how she could be even remotely helpful to the Order under the circumstances*

*she starts walking slowly toward the gates and looks back when she hears footsteps behind her* *her smile is genuine, if a bit distracted* Angie.

[complete]

Sat, 24 Mar 2007 05:34:08 GMT

*she opens the door and all her nerves evaporate as Ethan walks in, picks her up and swings her round, hugging her hard* *it's just like it used to be, before she went crazy; he finally dumps her on the sofa and makes a beeline for the drinks cupboard and they have a cocktail (regular for him, all but alcohol-free for her), then another, then another, and they talk*

*they talk about the match tomorrow and they talk about Braga--what brooms they fly, their strengths, their weaknesses* *at one point, he conjures a tablet of paper and a marker and starts drawing diagrams* *she wonders, in the middle of waves of enormous relief, whether that's where Wood picked it up as Ethan makes the X's and O's start to move across the paper*

*they argue strategy, debate one play over the other* *he stops halfway through a discussion of Puddlemere's last match to get her broom off its rack and inspect it thoroughly* *there's a point at which she thinks he might actually get on it and zoom round her living room before he finally puts it back, clearly satisfied she's been taking proper care of it*

*they manage to stop their debate about prospects for the Scottish side long enough to get themselves to the restaurant--a wizarding one, and one of their favourites--before it resumes again in full force* *they argue through soup and salad and get distracted halfway through dinner in contemplating the English side, and the Welsh, and the Irish, before getting back on track* *dessert passes in what seems like seconds as they argue the merits of one manager over another*

*they walk home discussing it in fragmented whispers, and narrowly avoid startling her Muggle neighbours waiting for the lift when a disagreement over Scotland's best Cup strategy gets out of hand* *they argue it some more over more drinks, and they switch back to Puddlemere and Braga as he heads into the spare bedroom and she heads into hers*

*she hears him call out 'Madrilena has a mean bat' just before his door shuts* *it makes her laugh*

*they eat breakfast at nine, as he bugs her about Wood's strategies* *she won't tell him what they are, because she thinks even if she only told her brother, Wood would kill her dead* *they laugh over one of his new clients, who wanted a miniature Firebolt for his four-year old son, and she interrogates him about her sister-in-law, his new accounts, his latest trip*

*he mocks her inability to keep from collecting cats as he washes the dishes (he always washes, because she always cooks)* *she pouts, then mocks him when she catches him petting the new cat when he thinks she's busy putting plates away* *he makes fun of her lucky socks, which have admittedly seen better days* *she makes fun of his haircut* *he tugs her day-of-the-match braids, and they laugh*

*they leave for the stadium together and part ways at the locker room door* *she heads to her locker, her lucky hair ribbons safe in her pocket, and smiles* *she feels like they could beat Braga in ten minutes today*

*she was obviously just under too much pressure*

*she'd have to be crazy to suspect Ethan of anything at all*

[complete]

Tue, 06 Mar 2007 00:35:57 GMT

*she gets home from practice really late, and rushes into the shower, then rushes out of the shower and into her closet, then rushes into the kitchen and roots through the refrigerator for something to eat and settles on the takeaway Chinese left from the night before* *she eats it standing up at the counter, then grabs her purse and heads out the door, already lighting a cigarette because she's a little nervous but Katie's back and that's the best news she's had since Katie's owl about Butch, which seems like it came years ago*

*she said she was all right* *it's the only thought that she can hold onto, so she does as she walks to the bar and in through the doors* *the music is so loud it's almost a physical assault, and it makes her relax, a bit, as she winds her way through the crowd and up to the bar, ordering a pint and looking round for Katie*

early evening. [complete]

Thu, 22 Feb 2007 03:33:45 GMT

*has spent the last half-hour in Quality Quidditch Supplies bad-temperedly sorting through quidditch gauntlets; her spare pair seems to have disappeared, which makes no sense as she only just saw them a day or two ago on their shelf in her wardrobe*

*between not hearing from Katie in over a week after that odd (Sparky?) owl, and Angie, and the really bad practice just over--she's got bruises on top of bruises to speak to that--and now her favourite pair of gloves completely destroyed and her unprecedented losing of her second-favourite pair, she's in a terrible mood* *she had to remind herself to be polite to the shopkeeper* *as she walks out the door, she really really hopes she managed it, and turns toward the apparition point*

*and comes face to face with Angie*

*her face, if possible, tightens more, and she says, flatly* Oh. It's you.

afternoon. [complete]

Mon, 05 Feb 2007 01:02:20 GMT

*has made sure the cats are closed up in her bedroom, with all their toys, all their food and water, their box, and a bunch of treats put in afterward by way of apology* *she's been torn between lying round doing nothing but moping, and between bursts of activity--as she has been ever since she'd seen Ethan on Wednesday--and now she's lying on the sofa, the apartment sparkling clean and organised within an inch of its life*

*she hasn't been sleeping very well and it shows, a little* *she's debating between getting up and lighting a smoke and can't seem to decide which to do when she hears the knock on the door*

my eyes only

Sat, 03 Feb 2007 23:16:49 GMT

Sparky?

owl post: angie

Sat, 03 Feb 2007 23:12:07 GMT

Angie,

If you're free at all any time in the next week or so, can we get together? Something's come up, and I sort of need a sounding board.

Hope everything's okay where you are!

Thanks,
Ally

[complete]

Fri, 02 Feb 2007 03:14:03 GMT

*she Apparates, then checks her watch and realises she's too early* *Ethan won't be home from work yet; she's forgot the time change once again, and she's got an hour to kill before she can expect him home* *sighing, she heads to a coffee shop, tries out her kindergarten-level Hungarian to order a specialty coffee and figures it serves her right when she gets hot chocolate and an amused look*

*she spends a relaxing hour talking in broken Hungarian and English to a crowd of university students* *then she heads to Ethan's townhouse and knocks on the door* *he pulls her in, grinning from ear to ear, and whirls her round the foyer with a laugh*

Christ, Ethan. Married life seems to agree with you. *she beams, excited for her brother, and follows him into the kitchen--not as though she has any choice; he's tugging her along the hallway like a kid on Christmas--and he sits her down and pours them both tea* *they talk about the honeymoon, about his promotion, about London, about quidditch, as though they haven't spoken for years instead of a month*

*and then the light seems to go out of her day as he cycles round to it, as she'd feared he would*

*she laughs, though it costs her* Don't be a prat, Ethan, that's silly. The Weasleys are about as far from radical as you can get. Two of them work for the Ministry, for Merlin's sake. One works for Gringotts. They're hardly risky people to be round. *she pauses, listening, then grins and shakes her head* You're off your nut, Ethan. Maybe when Dumbledore was around. But he's been dead years now, and now the Ministry believes You-Know-Who's back. What do they have to protest now?

*after another question, gives another answer* Angelina? She wrote about imaginary animals in the Quibbler, Ethan. D'you really think anyone who used to write about sports, and now writes about crumple-snacked horncracks, or whatever... *is relieved when he laughs, squashing down the feelings of disloyalty* Exactly. I told you, you great prat.

*laughs, then shakes her head* Honestly, Ethan...I don't know who your sources are...Yes, she had another attack...No, she's not dangerous 99 percent of the time...No, she's not a Death Eater, don't be stupid...Yes, I promise to be careful...Yes, I swear to Circe she's not working with the Ministry...she works in a pub...No, she's not part of some secret society...No, I guess I wouldn't know if she was, if it was really secret...No, she's not political at all, she's never been interested in all that...No...I don't know, she's never said...

Why are you being like this?

*she imagines she looks more distressed than she wants to, because he shifts subjects smoothly* *she finds a smile and pastes it on as he tells her about his latest broomstick contract, to the Swedish national team* *she stays for dinner, because she'd promised to, but she leaves soon after, claiming weariness and an early start to practice tomorrow morning*

*she arrives home, lays down on her bed, and goes over it all again and again, and when dawn comes, she's more worried than she was before*

owl post

Wed, 03 Jan 2007 02:58:06 GMT

To: Roger Davies
From: Alicia Spinnet

Roger,

I'm sorry to be bothering you with this, but really, there's no one else to ask.

Is there anything I can do to help? I know you're busy and you've all been working hard on Katie's case, but if there's anything I can do, or should avoid doing, could you please let me know? Her recovery is the most important thing in the world just now, and though I doubt you've got a brochure to flip through, I'm not sure whether I'm inadvertently doing something to make things worse. ~~Do you think asking her to Hungary made everything worse for her?~~

Thanks,
Alicia Spinnet

Tue, 02 Jan 2007 05:18:04 GMT

Who? Oliver and Alicia
When? New Year's Eve, before midnight
What? A little dancing between friends

( I get the feeling you got her something cheeky and you don't want to tell me. I'm not your Dad, Ally. )

i mixed up my holidays. so here's two-in-one.

Mon, 01 Jan 2007 06:34:12 GMT

Who? Alicia and her big brother
When? Christmas morning, and Ethan's wedding day
Why? Because war does strange things to your mind
note? special thanks to Res for Ethan-ing me out of writer's block

( How're you doing, little bit? Seriously -- everything all right? )

***

Who? Alicia and Katie
When? Oliver's New Year's Eve party
Why? Need you ask?

( I reckon this year's going to be a bit better, don't you? )

nye, before midnight [complete]

Fri, 29 Dec 2006 05:51:28 GMT

*laughing, drags Oliver onto the dance floor, ignoring his protests about 'talking to this one' and 'need to see that one' and 'need to check on that'* *for the benefit of the person she pried him away from* It's a party, not a training session, Ollie. Have some fun.

*she thought he hadn't looked entirely excited about talking to whoever the tall dark-haired man was in any event, so she simply kidnapped him, because girls at parties can get away with that sometimes, whereas guys never seem to be able to do it without irritating the other person involved* Who was that? Was it that bloke from Appleby, the seedy one? *cranes her head round Oliver to get a glimpse of the man* He looks seedy anyway.

So, great party! As always.

[complete]

Tue, 26 Dec 2006 05:47:41 GMT

*she's dancing with Katie to a Weird Sisters cover, and when the song stops, there's just silence for a long moment* *she automatically looks down at her watch; it's nearly midnight*

*grins at Katie, letting the man beside her jostle her closer, making it fairly obvious that she was going to move closer anyway and this is just a convenient excuse* *excited and laughing and perhaps a tad pissed and definitely more than a tad wanting, she stands very close to Katie and leans in to say in her ear* Almost time!

owl to remus lupin, heavily warded.

Tue, 12 Dec 2006 22:37:15 GMT

Remus,

About the matter we discussed earlier? Lunchtimes would be best.

Thanks,

Ally

monday, lunchtime [complete]

Tue, 12 Dec 2006 02:27:18 GMT

*is relieved this isn't pre-Falmouth week, as she'd never have been able to squeeze this meeting in, as she passes through security at the gates and up the path to the front doors of Hogwarts*

*checking her watch, she hurries through the castle, waving at Professor Flitwick, who waves back and pipes 'Hello, Miss Spinnet!' as she walks by, making her grin*

*she finds Remus' office without too much trouble and checks her watch again before knocking on the door, quelling the feeling she's showing up to detention as she waits*

monday evening [complete. again.]

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 23:40:40 GMT

*the bottle of wine is sitting open on the kitchen counter, the salad's made, the ravioli's just waiting to be boiled, and she's sneaking a cigarette by the window in the living room when she hears the knock on the door*

*she hurries over to the door, looks through the peep, and uses her wand to undo the locks before pulling the door open, grinning* Come on in. *gives Angie a hug*

*then immediately concerned* You look exhausted. And *considers a little, then remembers Angie's earlier owl* ...as though you've seen your Mum.

written at lunchtime

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 17:39:11 GMT

Angie,

Can you pop over tonight? I'm sorry I yelled at you, I didn't meam to yell, really, but I'm so worried about you! Did Fred look at your wards? I can look at them if you didn't.

If it makes you feel any better, I almost got taken off by broom by a bludger right off the bat this morning.

I'm sorry again, but this is a really big deal, Ange, you can't treat that necklace like it makes you totally safe, I know Fred's good, but could we talk for a bit? Without the yelling?

Ally

owl post

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 05:44:30 GMT

WHY THE HELL ARE YOU NOT CARRYING YOUR WAND? AND AFTER ALL WE TALKED ABOUT LAST NIGHT, WHY DO I HAVE TO HEAR THIS FROM SOMEONE WHO'S NOT YOU?

ANGELINA JOHNSON, YOU HAVE A LOT OF EXPLAINING TO DO. I'LL KILL YOU MYSELF, YOU BLOODY EFFING EEJIT!

owls: fred, and remus

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 04:27:17 GMT

Fred,

Ange says she talked to you.

So, is there anything you have in the shop that's like those Muggle phones--you know, like touch it and help's on the way?

Ally

***

Remus,

I was wondering, you being the former-but-still-great Defence professor and all, d'you have any suggestions as to how best to teach someone to cast a Patronus? I mean, the casting part is simple, if not easy. It's the Dementor bit that's tough to do without inviting disaster, you know?

Alicia Spinnet

sunday afternoon [complete]

Mon, 11 Dec 2006 03:27:53 GMT

*hurrying back from a busy but fruitful morning of shoe-shopping, she checks her watch, cursing herself for stopping to look at that little pair of bronze-coloured heels, because then she had to try them on, and then she had to buy them, and now she's running late, and she hates to run late*

*hurries up to Leanne's building, cheats and uses her wand to let herself in the front door, because she's late and she doesn't do well with buzzers and intercoms and whatever that button in the wall is for, and she walks quickly through the building to Leanne's door and knocks*

*when Leanne opens the door, she grins and says, slightly out of breath* Sorry I'm late! Shoes! *jiggles the bag* I'm an idiot. But they're perfect for the wedding and all. Sorry!

Fri, 08 Dec 2006 06:04:03 GMT

Who? Katie and Alicia
When? Thursday night
Where? Alicia's flat
Why? Why not?

( Is it okay if this is a date thing? If you don't want it to be, that's fine, too. I mean, no pressure. I mean...I mean, I didn't want to assume if you'd rather it not be, that's all. )

thursday evening [complete]

Wed, 06 Dec 2006 23:27:36 GMT

*flops down on the sofa, the wireless on loud, playing something by the Weird Sisters, eating takeaway chicken curry and staring at the wall* *last week she'd been complaining all over the place at not having any spare time to breathe what with too much practice* *now she's got too much spare time, it seems, and having nothing to do seems to bother her equally*

*she quickly banishes that thought, afraid Oliver might somehow hear it and change things, and goes back to considering whether to have a New Years' party at her Mum's old house*

owl post

Wed, 06 Dec 2006 21:30:58 GMT

Katie-girl,

D'you want to go to Ethan's wedding? With me, I mean? It's Christmas Eve, so if you don't want to go or have other stuff to do that's fine. I just figured I'd ask because it would be great--I'd like it--if you could go, but if not that's okay too.

Ally

Angie,

Sorry, still recovering after Falmouth. Bastards. I should have owled you ages ago, I'm sorry.

Did you talk to him? How did it go?

Ally

Sat, 02 Dec 2006 03:17:09 GMT

Your Character
Name: Alicia Rose Black Spinnet
Nicknames (if any): Ally (friends and family only), 'Lis (Fred)
Birth date: 31 August, 1978
Ethnicity: Scots/Irish/French
Height: 5'3"
Weight: 110#
Bloodline (pure-blood, half-blood, muggle-born): half-blood

Family, Friends, and Current Status
Parents: Douglas Ethan Spinnet (Muggleborn; d.1981) and Lavinia Black Spinnet (nee Downes) (pureblood d.1998)
Siblings: Ethan Douglas Spinnet (b.1971)
Marital status: single
Spouse or significant other: none
Children (if any): none
Occupation: Chaser, Puddlemere United
Current residence: Soho, London
Pets (if any): 2 Abyssinian cats, Merry and Pippin
Circle of friends: Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, Fred and George Weasley, Oliver Wood, Lee Jordan, Marcus Flint (from quidditch)
Enemies: none, personally
Misc. connections: DA, Order of the Phoenix

Magic
Wand: 13", holly and dragon heartstring
Most competent area of Magic: Charms, Defence
Least competent area of Magic: Care of Magical Creatures
Other magical oddities/abilities: can Apparate intercontinentally

History, War, and Misc Facts
Birth place: Inverness, Scotland
Hogwarts House (or school, if non-Hogwarts Student): Gryffindor
Significant traumas, injuries (if any): normal minor quidditch and Weasley-twins-friend injuries
Role in the war thus far (if any): member of the Order of the Phoenix; gets information through quidditch/Ministry contacts
Member of the Order? If so, what role: Yes. (see above)
Losses due to war: father (killed by DEs, 1981); mother (killed by DEs, 1998)
Misc information: Appearance: Pale, delicately built. Surprisingly strong for her size. Has one magical tattoo round her upper right arm (courtesy of a drunken pub crawl with her Puddlemere teammates), six earrings in her left ear and four in her right (courtesy of a drunken pub crawl with her Muggle cousins), and tends to dress in Muggle clothes under open robes.

Personality: Is generally happy-go-lucky and "sunny", though she can get very nervous (and seems a bit flaky) when stressed, and can be very impatient. Does everything at a run. Is always late, about to be late, just done being late, or very nearly late, and never seems to have enough time every day to fit in everything she's planned.

Other notable behaviors (if any): Has a very low tolerance for alcohol. Is excessively affectionate and most often gets herself into trouble when she's drunk.

chasing a dream

Sun, 26 Nov 2006 02:06:06 GMT

*she walks out onto the pitch beside Calloway, the only other woman on Puddlemere's starting team, and the only other player who doesn't tower over her* *when she'd started playing for Puddlemere, she used to walk out beside Oliver, but as he was nearly a foot taller than she, it always made her feel like a dwarf in quidditch robes, like she ought to be carrying an axe and wearing a beard* *Calloway, their seeker, was barely taller than she was, and walking beside her always made Ally miss Angie and Katie just a little bit less in the moments before a match*

*her whole quidditch career, it seems, is one match after another that never feels quite right; no matter how well she flies, no matter how well the team does, she never quite feels that same connection, it's never quite right somehow* *at Hogwarts, Chasing with Angie and Katie, she never felt short, never felt tired, never wondered what her teammates would do* *she'd been part of them then, and she'd always just known where to be, who to pass to, what came next, like she knew how to breathe*

*she didn't know, when she started at Montrose, that it would be different, hadn't understood how special they'd been till it was gone, Angie at University, Katie still back at school, till she was playing with people who played for money as much as for love of the game* *she'd been looking for it ever since, first at Montrose, now at Puddlemere* *she loved Chasing with Zack Tremayne, with his laughing green eyes and his confident hands, and Michael Campbell, all long brown dreadlocks and rare grin; she loved them like brothers after two years flying with them, but it wasn't the same*

*some part of her has been waiting, since her first professional match, to find that connection again* *it's part of what drives her to play--the search, and her love of the game*

*as they near the centre of the pitch, Campbell catches them up, and rests an elbow on Ally's head* *she swats him away teasingly and he gives her one of his few-and-far-between grins, his teeth showing brilliant against his exotic dark face* *Tremayne catches them up halfway to the centre, tugging first at her braids, then at Calloway's* *they all laugh, then pretend to sober at Wood's impatient scowl; he doesn't like it when his team doesn't show the proper sobriety on the pitch--it shows that they're taking it all too lightly* *once he passes them by, muttering last-minute advice and orders, to meet the Grodzisk captain at the centre of the circle, they laugh some more, though more quietly*

*they reach the circle at the centre of the pitch and as one, take their brooms off their shoulders*

*she takes her position in the centre of the Puddlemere semicircle, and notices, while she's still willing to bother with insignificant details, that the Grodzisk side might as well be made up of giants* *there isn't a single one who's under six-foot tall, not even the women* *it makes her grin*

*she's always loved a challenge*

*they wait, some shifting nervously, others coughing, some grinning* *from left to right in their half-circle, it's Drummond, his beater's bat marking the time against his thigh; Tremayne, flexing his fingers and grinning easily round at everyone; Calloway, her eyes already seeking for a Snitch that hasn't been released yet; herself; Wood, stiff and very much in charge; Campbell, standing still and ready; and Urquhart, like a solemn-faced mountain, his beater's bat like a toy in his enormous hand*

*as they wait, hands are shaken, broomsticks gripped and mounted, equipment adjusted* *she can hear someone laugh on the other side of the circle, she thinks it's Grodzisk's keeper, a musclebound tree-trunk of a man who looms over even Oliver--but she can't be certain, because she's not looking at him, she's only looking at the trunk of balls, yet to be kicked open*

*someone nearby shifts nervously* *the crowd's chant is hynotic, and she has to fight against getting sucked into it, against losing focus*

*the referee steps into the middle of the circle, beside the trunk*

*just like that, it's all gone, like a switch being flipped, it disappears* *the crowd, the players beside her, the opposing team; they all might as well be in a parallel universe, because she can't hear any of them, they're not important anymore* *all she notices, all she cares about, is the trunk*

*the foot moving toward it*

*the latch-click*

*the musical sound of the balls as the trunk springs open and they escape: the quick trumpet-blast of iron zipping past her ears as the bludgers shoot up and swerve away from each other; the slower, cello-deep sound of the quaffle whooshing upward; the flute-trill of the Snitch, winging away, light and barely visible in the bright afternoon light*

*the whistle, shrill and daring--the challenge*

*the wind whips her braids back as she shoots up, straight and quick, into the crush of chasers and beaters, straight toward the quaffle*

*the quaffle smacks solidly, satisfyingly, against her hand and she pulls it in, rolls out of the pack and shoots away, her first pass to Tremayne sure and clean* *Campbell comes in and they start weaving, swerving, ducking and rolling to avoid bludgers, heading downpitch*

*she hears Urquhart laughing as he deflects a bludger into a mass of green-robed players, senses the Grodzisk chasers scattering in the wake of his opening salvo, and grins, speeding toward the goal-hoops* *takes the pass from Campbell, dives* *shoots* *laughs as she sees the quaffle outreach massive arms, and sail through the hoop*

*Tremayne's victorious shout makes her laugh again, climb high, wait for a chance to steal* *the quaffle flies from keeper to chaser, and they're off*

*six hours later, bruised from flying elbows and boots, she's zooming up the pitch, zipping between two opposing chasers then off again with the quaffle, heading toward Grodzisk's goal hoops* *she passes to Tremayne, he to Campbell* *she sees a bright-green blur approaching, a bludger whirring in toward her at manic speed, catches the quaffle in close against her chest and rolls tightly to avoid both chaser and bludger, darts off again, diving low so the other bludger misses*

*she passes to Campbell, and they're off, weaving, twisting, throwing the quaffle, dodging bludgers and chasers and for a moment she's found it, for a moment the old sense of belonging is back*

*Tremayne shoots* *scores*

*the whistle blows*

*and that quickly, it's over, and even as she's grinning, even as Campbell nearly sends her off her broom with a victorious backslap, part of her's lost*

*Wood, grinning like a madman just escaped from Bedlam, reaches them and it's all hugs and cheers and backslaps as Calloway, the snitch still struggling in her gloved hand, nudges into the circle*

*she laughs--she's happy they've won, against the gigantic Grodzisk team--but part of her, the part that needs that connection, wishes the match could have gone on forever*

*she walks with them toward the changing rooms as the crowd, most of it sullenly silent, starts to dissipate, leaving empty spaces in the stands* *she participates fully, as she always does, in the post-game celebration, the recapping, the cheerful debates, the autograph-signing (which always shocked her on some level, as she simply couldn't figure why anyone would want hers), the laughing as they walked out* *she walks with Calloway and Tremayne and Urquhart to the Apparition point, the others heading for the Portkey*

*and when she makes it home, finally, she sits down in the armchair near the fire, pulls her legs up to her chest, and hates herself for wanting more*