karkaroff , a .
the devil is in the details when it comes to the nature of frustration : the minute narrowing of ice - cold hues , the momentary knit between thick brows . years of BALANCING on the edge of this particular emotional razor have taught him 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍 / onlookers , not quite privy to parried syllables and overly tight smiles , simply observe a 𝙲𝙰𝚂𝚄𝙰𝙻 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 in lowly tones between old acquaintances . oh , to be so blithely unaware ! “ hm . ” a noncommittal sound if ever there were one , nothing more than a hum punctuated by a slow sip of madam rosmerta’s finest . “ i suppose that ALL depends on what you find 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 , isn’t it ? different definitions of the word . ” another sip to separate sentences , lethargic smile as cover . “ my government and i are doing the BEST we can , ms . mckinnon , ” a deliberate choice / this is not 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 - 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 - 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐬 territory , “ i’m sure you’ll find something to respect . ” it sounds like a threat , and tastes like one .
“ i’m sure . i would hate to imply you’re not , mr . karkaroff . ” mary takes a pull of her drink , and the words roll off his tongue like the bourbon her aunt would sometimes let her sneak at dinners . his underlying threat is just as bitter . the sweet wine does nothing to chase away the memory of that taste . “ consider me just . . . ” a pause / a shrug of her shoulders . “ a constituent who likes to be involved . ” mary , watch what you say . mary , be careful . mary , what happens if you go too far ? ( she’s always felt so unspeakably young when faced with the men like him who flash smiles like they’re blades . she is just one girl after all , and so long as he’s the minister , antonin is not just one man . but she’s familiar with this balancing act that comes with all of her pushing . pushing her luck . pushing other people . the push back at her . ) nails tap tunelessly against her glass , and she smiles . “ after all , who are we if we don’t hold every minister to the highest standard ? ”
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requested by @absolutelyiris
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JOHN MULANEY
KID GORGEOUS AT RADIO CITY
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potter , h & granger , h .
“why would we read them when we can get YOU to explain the plot to us?” harry’s aiming to tease, voice just a little too guileless to be anything other than prodding. “not that i don’t LOVE the commentary on what’s different in the books and movies,” he pokes hermione’s side and bats lazily at ron’s hand as he takes some of the popcorn - though he won’t ACTUALLY try and stop the theft. “is it going on my list of POP CULTURE CATCH UP, then? i thought we were done with homework.” harry laughs and shakes his head, “RIGHT, finnick odair. cool golden bracelet, yeah?” ( @spelltorn )
“ does skimming the first few pages count ? ” a light elbow at hermione’s side / another crunch of a bite as he leans back into his seat . “ ‘m thinking the new marvel movies are more important than actually reading ‘em anyway . ” the teasing , the dialogue bouncing off of the other two comes out of habit -- easy as hopping on a bike , even after years without practice . “ yeah , him . ” voice shifts to some semblance of an american accent as ron directs a stray piece of popcorn back harry’s way , the lazy aim ricocheting off the opposite arm of the couch . “ want a sugar cube ? ” ( @dolors )
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alecto with narcissa who is 5'5" !!!! ron with antigone who's 5'3" !!!
height difference between @toujovrspurs & alecto carrow / @antigonai & ron weasley !
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mary with merry who is 5'4" & niko who is 6'0" !!
height difference between @vellichvrs , @monstrovs , and mary mckinnon !
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hermione + ron for height meme <333
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avalon is 5'3 <3 lemme see the chaotic duo difference
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ACCEPTING : headcanons , heights !
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granger , h .
warm skin is roughened , familiar , lovely against her own / how long has he been taking her hand , running down a rabbit hole of their 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 ? ( he , eleven and trembling and stuttering in front of enraged professors ; she , tear - streaked and indignant and yet willing to lie , a little �� bit brazen in how BOLDFACED it is . oh , if only she’d known . ) won’t bother to speak as she tugs , gentle , and begins to wind their interlocked frames through corridors that seem to pulse .
“ does the placebo effect apply to quidditch ? ” tone is 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢 as it’s tossed over her shoulder , smiling around the edges . her quips are thrown as easily as his , but admiration is a glossy shine that’s hardly transparent and was never meant to be . it’s difficult to pretend like he doesn’t dazzle her , in the literal sense of the word / there’s something impossibly bright about a killawatt smile , about 𝑙𝑖𝑜𝑛𝘩𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑒 that blinds hermione a little . let it be known she’s ALWAYS enjoyed it , but that’s no secret . whether it’s the drink or the way her fingers press against the tops of his hands , she feels radiant . “ you were pretty good at your next game , though . ”
if the party is cataclysmic in its destruction of the minister’s carefully - curated mansion , hermione can’t be anything but thankful . doors are flung wide open ( except for the ones that aren’t ; she’ll nearly 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐄 in a fit of giggles against ron’s chest when a closed door is nudged open to reveal terry boot’s flushed face and mussed hair , devoid of both shirt and dignity ) ; chaos has gripped the place , turned it inside out . it makes it easier to spot the study , though .
the mahogany has an ungodly sheen , gleaming when hermione latches upon the door handle and if there’s 𝘈𝘕𝘠𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘎 deserving of a reverential gasp under liquor - warm breath , it’s this . dragging ron right into the thick of it , they are SURROUNDED — - bookshelves go all the way to the ceilings stacked with antiquities / it’s the only room in the entire damned place with any personality . “ wish he wasn’t such a prick , ” she’ll breathe , gravitating to a grand desk to which she can anchor a hip , “ 'cos he’s got a fucking stunning study . ”
it’s not easy to navigate , but it’s simple to let her tug him along . there’s this arresting moment of familiarity , some sense that this has been done before ; and maybe it has , time and time again . ( no idea what you could be implying . i’m just naturally talented -- cracked back , only thinking of her her her even when hermione is no longer looking over her shoulder . ) the manor is all wide halls spiderwebbing off of narrow landings on each floor / abandoned rooms , mixed with some not quite so . there’s no telling how long it takes before the right empty room is uncovered .
( he’s more focused on her when they find it . watches the second more in details , like the way her expression brightens as if being lit from the inside out . “ it’s . . . yeah , ” he’ll agree , when he finally drags his attention outward . )
there’s a little more space to breathe here , where tension can bleed from coiled sinew and bone . while less so than previous rooms , the furnishing still feels ostentatious and a bit ornamental . a display of affluence , no matter how useless of one it may be . perhaps he was too much kid in the burrow and not enough sacred purity like surname was historically meant to entail . still , it’s the most interesting room in the place yet .
ron will squeeze her hand once before letting go to let curiosity propel him closer to one of the shelves lining the wall . it lasts just a half - beat too long , lingering in a way that might be as deliberate as it could be an accident . irises skim past titles decorating spines both antiquated and surprisingly new , bounce from object to object . ( a bronze statuette of some historic figure he doesn’t know , gleaming dully with almost lifelike eyes . a silver - veined book cover that he doesn’t bother reading . a gilded box displaying some sort of emerald ring . a small latched box that he wants to make a mental note to come back to . )
“ can’t be anything that good in an unlocked room , right ? ” the light question is tossed over his shoulder when he paces back down the length of the shelves , closer to the back wall the desk paralleled . “ always the locked rooms that are more interesting . ” all that to say , he doesn’t feel quite so bad when attention drifts towards the desk itself . it’s organized , nearly pristine , with muted light winking off of the handles of the drawers . ron’s gaze flicks towards hermione , brows raised only a fraction . “ think there’s anything worth looking at in there ? ”
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weasley , g .
“didn’t i hear something about our new minister approving a huge increase in funding for the aurors office?” his voice carries on the late night breeze, and ginny directs her response over her shoulder, her smile characteristically cheeky. “really makes me wonder why i’m taking such a cut to my fortune, at all.” though, jokes aside : she doesn’t mind. there are several ways a child raised the way the weasley’s were - always feeling the lack of something so essential - could turn out, and ginny had become a cautious giver. she saved more than she had to in her ‘rainy day’ fund, always painfully aware of how much she had aside in event of an imagined DISASTER, but she hasn’t skimped when it comes to her family for as long as she’s had steady income. “in that case, we’re fucked. maybe we should cut our losses & try the hog’s head, instead.”
“ did he ? ” tone carries faux cluelessness and his brows knit together . what if i don’t know if i fit there anymore , anyway ? he wants to say . what if i’m doubting everything i’m doing ? ron can’t quite bring himself to ask . he’ll instead volley back , “ weird . haven’t heard a thing about it . your sources must be off . ” he falls into step with her , the path winter - hardened beneath his feet . when ron grins over at his sister it’s something boyish and youthful and not as oh - so - tired as he feels . “ thinking you’ll have better luck with that crowd ? didn’t realize you were down that bad , gin . ”
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carrow , a .
“ miss meijer , it’s always an honour . ” his tone may grovel but that grin is downright wolfish / feral , ENTIRELY IMPOLITE , worlds away from what should lilt the corners of his mouth . quick flick of his wand towards the door and the sun - faded sign spells 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 , and attention is DRAWN back to the singular figure that graces his company . “ please , you’ve 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 looked good in ruffles . ” casual politesse falls out of favour when they’re left alone , and his nose wrinkles in DISTASTE at her fabric of choice . “ mother always insisted in those disgustingly frilly dresses for you , you know the ones . fucking dreadful , honestly . ”
his own greeting is the culmination of months of observing ; sounds of the malkin boy’s benevolence , while the smile is all carrow . all fanged , vulturine charm . it’s familiar in the way that she’s seen it on herself -- the two of them being reflections meeting at the wrong angles . ( when the sign shifts and the store is otherwise empty , pretenses drop , mannerisms change / the gentle curves of a familiar face become something less painted , like a skin she’s glad to shed . but everything about alecto is conscious , even in this . ) “ lucky you , never having to match . ” her lips could cant in some fleeting , reckless way , but instead she rolls her eyes . “ she always did have the most hideous taste . ” alecto’s hand drops carelessly from the dress . “ but i can’t say this shop is much better , by the looks of it . ” she turns , easy strides eating up the distance between the sales floor and a counter that she lifts herself to sit upon like it’s a pedestal . “ anything worthwhile to share this week ? ”
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ALEXANDRA BRECKENRIDGE as Mel Monroe in V/irgin River 1.01
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balinor , a .
“ D’YOU THINK that the Bloody Baron would move in with me if I asked? I’m just not sure what kinda stories you ‘n I could make up that’d be sufficient. ” She maintained a grin as best she could, but it faltered at the ever dreaded question that followed. Avalon shrugged as best she could from her horizontal position, “ No worse than usual, anyways. Y’don’t have to worry about me, Ronnie, it’s just that time of year, y’know? Well I mean, I know you know but … “ she huffed, “ you know what I mean. ”
“ no harm in asking . ” a look to her companion / a fleeting smile . “ but ‘m thinking cavall is better company . ” �� the dog’s ear twitches at his name , but he makes no further effort to move beyond a bored look directed ron’s way . “ bullshit . ” near - grey irises shift to avalon . ( he does know what this time of year does to people . pitying looks and dancing on eggshells and i’m so sorrys or your brother was so loved . everyone’s got a tombstone of their own to visit . ) “ we both know everything’s just . . . ” he gestures haphazardly with his occupied hand , “ fuck . i don’t know . off . ”
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weasley , g .
the longer she’s living inside her own mind, the more sure she becomes that it isn’t just different, this year, but worse. given that they had lived through the first memorial ( the one where EVERYTHING had been as fresh as a red raw wound & there was nothing anyone could do to change it ), that was a feat that ginny hadn’t thought possible. too much had happened and she wasn’t foolish enough to imagine that there wasn’t so much more to come : there was a lot playing on her this time around, and she desperately needed to do ANYTHING but dwell. “i think i can swing that,” she gives a ghost of a smile & a playful nudge to his side, but darts off ahead before he can reciprocate. jacket is pulled tighter now she’s properly outside & the cold air is already doing a world of good for her. “but you could at least try to sweet talk rosmerta, once we get down there. what good are you if you can’t charm a lonely barmaid, huh?”
“ i’d hope so -- what kind of pro quidditch player are you if you can’t afford a drink for your favorite brother ? ” but then she’s gone , and it’s all but instinct that leaves ron jogging to catch up . the air carries a chill like fresh air on an open wound . there’s an underlying warmth to it , as if hinting at the incoming spring -- he takes a breath in through the nose , out through the mouth . “ rosmerta loves me , i dunno what you’re talking about . ” a sense of ease takes to him , in this space next to ginny several feet down the dusk - dim path . the winding tension doesn’t completely bleed from his limbs , but it’s something . “ all charm is off for the night . leaving it to you and my natural good looks . ”
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karkaroff , n .
“that depends.” and he’s still smiling that crooked smile of his, unperturbed by even the thought that mary could well be playing him. how funny it is really depends on the truth that outs, and though he’d find an equal sum of amusement either way, he knows what he’d prefer. “i’m trying to decide if you’re an idiot-” he says conversationally, seeing no problem in his words, “or whether you’re just overselling the performance.”
either or, it changes nothing. niko is enjoying what he sees, and it isn’t like he’s looking away. bringing meaning to the phrase ‘scared he might miss something’, he doesn’t even look towards the aging barkeep that places his drink before him & proceeds to hobble away. instead he watches her, gaze unnerving in the way it always seems to be, though it doesn’t seem to bother her much. like a game of nerves or a round of roulette where only two players are left standing, the energy around them feels charged in some indescribable way. he enjoys that, too. he lets her question rest for as long as it takes for him to take a deep drink from his dusty pint glass, though the answer’s unsurprising. “i think it might be. i was taught not to disappoint beautiful women… especially when they’re making a request of me.”
“ or maybe , ” she starts , tone delicate , breezy -- “ i’m really good at making questionable friends . ” she almost wants to laugh when he clocks the show , lips nearly twitching as if she was going to smile . ( a little infuriating , really , when she had already decided this was going to be an evening like pulling teeth . ) instead , a sip of her drink follows a light raise of her shoulders . “ then again , some could say that would make me the idiot . so i’ll leave it up to you . ”
mary is the first to look away when a shadow crosses the table . it’s the first time she’ll feel like she’s lost .
what , exactly , she’s losing is uncertain .
a hum rises in the column of her throat . “ are all karkaroffs so giving ? ” she can’t put a name to what crackles at raw nerve endings when she levels her attention to find he’s still watching . there’s something acute about niko’s unwavering focus -- and the easy jabs , like he’s enjoying himself . it ought to suck the fun right out of it , she thinks . it doesn’t . “ consider it a trial run . what’s lesson one ? ”
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