valesco ; a harry potter rpg

♥ ♥ HELLO?! ♥ ♥

“I’ll leave you three alone.”

Willa only looked up to acknowledge and smile at the nurse because it was her instinct to be polite, but there was no real regard or recognition in her eyes. Her gaze instantly dropped back down to the bundle in her arms who’d captured her sole attention since she’d burst into the world.

She, Violet, this was Violet. Willa’s eyes were wide with stunned and exhausted disbelief, unsure how it could be real that she was holding her daughter. The past few hours felt like they had blurred past and moved in slow motion at the same time. Tears, there had been so many tears; of excitement and of fear, and now that the dust had settled her new reality seemed perfectly in place and absolutely surreal at the same time.

How was that possible? How did she feel like she knew exactly what to do and nothing at all?

Willa pressed her back against Ollie’s chest, unsure of when he’d joined her on the hospital bed. She turned and looked up at him with the same wide eyes, her breaths heavy as she pressed her forehead against him. She’d cried and cried to him, certain that she couldn’t do this, that she wasn’t strong enough, and Ollie had made her believe she could. And now, here they were. They, them, their family, with their daughter.

“She looks like you,” Willa whispered, the notion swelling up her heart. She curled against Ollie and shifted Violet in her arms to bring her closer to him. One hand went to the baby’s dark hair and Willa’s breath hitched. She was so beautiful, and small, and she had fingers and toes and a tiny nose---

Willa blinked rapidly, unable to control the tidal wave of emotions coursing through her.

They should stay in Hawaii. What would be so wrong with that? Warm sun all day, fresh island breeze to lull you to sleep at night, the ocean, the beach, fresh food everywhere. Was there anything more anyone could want?

Ollie shifted onto his side, resting his chin and a good part of the side of his face in his palm. As the hammock swayed back and forth from his sudden movement, he watched Willa tucked beside him, thinking lazily about the things back home that would make moving to an American island unappealing. Leaving behind their friends, family. Their home in Scotland, which every day made him feel warmer inside than the last. No, they couldn't leave that. Willa's budding stage career couldn't be pushed aside either; it brought her great happiness.

So, with a heavy heart, Ollie came to the conclusion that a permanent move to a far-away island wasn't the best idea for them. Maybe later, when they were old and retired and had nothing better to do. But now? He eased forward, careful to not put any weight on Willa as he pressed his lips to her temple for a quick kiss.

"Are you excited for your party Saturday?" Ollie asked, moving his gaze to join her, once again, at looking out at the beach just a short walk from where they lay. The sun would set soon, maybe in an hour or so, and it had become something of a ritual for them to watch the sun dip under the water before heading inside for dinner.

His hand, beginning to hurt from holding up his own head, fell to curl above her head on the hammock. A little smile appeared on his lips as Ollie played with some of Willa's hair close to her forehead.

Opening night and afterparty for Anneliese Jugson's stage adapation of her wildly popular book Fountainhead!
Tickets sold out fast and the afterparty is invite-only, but anyone can have a reason to be involved lbr

Open to all and any party! Home celebrations, the Ministry's Black-Robe Gala...

Happy, he was the happiest he'd ever been in his life, and boy, had he had some happy days. Beau wasn't sure if he was going to be able to focus on just one thing tonight as there were bright lights, great smelling food, music, fire!, family that he hadn't seen in ages, friends he had hadn't seen smile in what felt like forever and---it just---he was so happy! And grown up, he definitely felt grown up; when was the last time his brother had a whole conversation with him without grabbing him around the neck and rubbing his knuckles in his skull? Uh, never! But that had happened tonight, and Bibi hadn't whacked him (yet), and his mother cried, and his dad was doing that thing with his eyebrows that showed he approved without saying of things and--- "Aw, babe," Beau let out, stopping in his tracks at the sight of the reason for this wonderful gathering. "Don't move!" He whipped up his camera to capture the shot of his amazingly brilliant and brave and awesome and beautiful fiancée by a rather blazing campfire. Althea could make a fertilizer sack look like a Liddie Lynch gown, but the sight of her by the fire and looking just as happy as he was, well--he had to get that on film to keep the memory forever. Because Beau was the excitable bloke he was, the camera was one of those new fangled automatic ones, and the print slipped out immediately (he'd placed a bunch of these around the venue tonight, for guests to capture these sort of moments, too) and he bounced over to Althea to show her. "Okay, tell me that's not a great shot," he said with a bragging waggle of his eyebrows.

WHO: Ollie Comstock and Willa Montague
WHAT: Too many feels
WHERE: Dorset
WHEN: Sometime

( He was unhealthy. He wasn’t good for her. She needed stability, support, things he couldn’t offer.  )

For the first time in what could possibly be her life, Willa felt clear-headed. There were no clouds to block out what she didn’t want to think about, or feel, or see. Maybe great humility had washed over her, that knowing she could not go any deeper into her soul or spirit than she had in the attic left her only looking upwards…

She sounded silly and poetic, and that brought a little smile to her lips. She hadn’t felt like that in ages.

Willa blinked down at the notebook in her lap that her father had bought her from the gift shop in his state of worry. She wasn’t entirely sure what he had told the healers, they didn’t seem too concerned by her admittance, but...she knew she’d scared her parents, she’d scared herself, and even though she was now feeling something that might actually feel like relief it had come from a place of great darkness. A place she had never wanted to see again, or even come close to…

The pen that had come with the notebook was still untouched. She had woken quite early, the sun hadn’t come through the windows, and even though she felt like she had pages upon pages to say, it didn’t feel right to. Not yet. But, she had dared to slip out of bed and into a chair by the window to watch the new day beginning. Her father had gone off, maybe to see his mother, so she’d been alone with her thoughts…

She felt the presence in the doorway before they’d made a sound and Willa turned. A small, tentative smile curved up her lips and she let out a breath.

“Good morning,” she said quietly.

WHO: Willa Montague and her father!
WHAT: Things are said
WHERE: The attic of her parents' house
WHEN: Today

( Willa stared at her father, hands out and looking bewildered; what was she even saying? )

It had taken some time, but eventually, Ollie managed to slip away from the house. It was late, Bippy thought he had been asleep for hours, and---

In a strange way, it was nearly exhilarating to be out on his own. Ollie hadn't experienced a single moment in the past five months alone, and that understanding was certainly not lost on him now. It felt strange, almost a little bit wrong, like an unnerving out-of-body experience. If Bippy found out where he wasn't, it would certainly mean harsh ramifications reaching long into the future. But he wanted... no, needed, to do this on his own. And if there was anyone who deserved his first private conversation without a hovering house-elf, it was Willa, considering all that happened.

He had been standing outside her window for a good ten minutes now. There were a few small rocks in his hand, Ollie having thought that a discrete way to alert her to his presence in her backyard without catching the attention of her parents as well. But he found himself hesitating, rolling the stones over each other in his palm.

Willa would be better off without him. He knew, deep down, that if he left now and never came to her like he said he would, she would eventually come to resent him and then move on. That would be better, wouldn't? For her, for her life. For Jake too, they would both be far better off without him in it.

Could he do that? Hurt them to spare them from him? Ollie frowned, knowing just as deeply as he was no good, that no, he probably wasn't even a big enough wizard, person, to make that kind of sacrifice. His shoulders dropped and for a moment Ollie hung his head low. He pulled his mouth back as he shook his head.

Without looking up, he slowly moved his wand. Ollie murmured low a levitating spell, and soon the stones he had collected were tapping against Willa's bedroom window in slow succession.

Beau Winogrand was being awfully quiet, and as Willa watched him stuff another cookie into his mouth, she wondered what had him bothered. Looking down at the tin she'd set on the counter of the visitor's center at Winogrand Gardens, she hoped it would have enough left for Kera. Today had been...strange, and not only because it was April Fool's. Perhaps strange wasn't the right word, but she felt a clenching in her chest that things were just not right.

Ollie wasn't taking visitors, that's what Bippy had told her and...she was immediately struck with guilt, she was immediately concerned, she was...admittedly, slightly confused. She knew...she knew that what she'd told him had not been taken well, but...but could it have sent him so far off course that...Willa didn't know, but the stone of guilt in her stomach doubled in size and she knew she had to stop that ridiculous night from weighing so heavily around her shoulders.

That was why she'd made two tins of cookies this morning. One was supposed to be left for Ollie, but she had a feeling the house-elf wasn't taking too kindly to her offerings. The other was for Kera, because she'd waited far too long to apologize for taking that damn letter from Towler in the first place.

"Are you sure she's here?" Willa asked Beau quietly. "When I saw Jake he said..."

Beau gestured silently (well, no, there was a mumbled acknowledgement through the fourth cookie stuffed into his mouth) toward a nearby garden path. "Sshescommingnow."

WHO: Willa Montague and Ollie Comstock
WHAT: 😬
WHERE: Jake's flat
WHEN: Today? Sure.

( Before we go? Could we talk? I want to explain...I know I’ve been...I’ve been off-center and I want to apologize… )

( YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED... )

OOC hybrid post! post anything you like 😊 ❤️ Happy Valentine's Day!!

Ollie knew as much that with every person he reconnected with, he would find uncomfortable air paired with awkward words. And... he understood that, it was what he deserved; it was his comeuppance for how he acted and what he had done. But that didn't make any part of this process easier, no matter how frequently he found himself seeking his own or Bippy's reassurance.

Despite his nerves, ones he couldn't understand why he had, Ollie attempted to stay calm. He wanted to talk to Willa, he wanted to see her. Her packages had been one of the few things to break his misery during rehab, helped him remember why he was there. And... he had told her that, in the letters they had been exchanging since he returned to the UK. But this was the first time they were seeing each other in person, and while Ollie had much to say to her, he felt almost caught in a strange paradox of... also having no idea where to begin.

Perhaps Bippy made him lose his voice. Ollie did not spend one moment alone, a choice both he and his healer had thought best until he could prove to not only himself that he could be trusted with such a privilege. So now, even as he and Willa walked the back area of her parent's house, Bippy lingered a few paces behind. He most likely could not hear their every word, but...

Ollie took a deep breath. He had jammed his hands into his pockets, a thankful excuse from the cold. His head lowered between his shoulders, and he began to speak softly as he looked down at their feet.

"Willa, I..." he began, his brow furrowing. With a shake of his head, he raised his gaze to her face. "I know I lied a lot to you, and I know... that was wrong. I have... a bad dependency that... helped me cope with the things I don't want to deal with. And... I just want... to apologize for dragging you down with me. It's worse that I didn't even tell you what was going on, I... I'm sorry. It wasn't my intent to hurt you. I know I did, and... you don't have to forgive me, if you're not ready. If you don't want to, I just... I wanted to tell you I'm sorry for what I did."

“Yes, yes I understand. Thank you, I'm sorry, it won't happen again.”

Willa stepped out into Diagon Alley, the cold air pinching her face. She sucked in a deep, shuddering breath as the door behind her shut, its bell giving a light jingle that continued to resonate in her ears as she speedily walked away from the publisher’s office. She had missed a deadline, a very important one, and while the meeting had not been harsh or demeaning in any sort of way Willa felt her head pound with the anxiety of threatening tears. She walked speedily down the pavement, head ducked as she tried to gather her thoughts. There had been many edits to look over and decisions to be made and she had wanted to get to them, but it...every time...she always...

She was stopped suddenly by another jingle, this one more familiar. Willa looked up to see that she had taken herself to the front doors of The Leaky Cauldron without realizing it and she blanched. No, no she couldn't go in there, Tom was in there and if he saw how she was letting this book deal slip through her fingers because she couldn't find the focus it would break his heart, it would break hers and---

Shutting her eyes tightly she disapparated with a pop. Willa landed, quite unceremoniously, not in the living room, but in the middle of the snow-covered front lawn of their house. Why had---she’d never----A panic struck her as she realized quite clearly that if she went inside she would end up crawling into bed and refusing to ever leave it. Had her subconscious known that before she did?

Her name being called out caused her to flinch and Willa turned around as best she could with her feet stuck in snow. Her cheeks reddened at the sight of Hestia; oh no, they were supposed to make gingerbread houses today, weren’t they?

“Hi, hi,” she let out with a wave before twisting away to wipe at her face and hoping she could keep away her tears. “I’m just---having a bit of a day.”

Willa felt incredibly grateful to have been chosen for the acting workshop, no matter how hard it made her stomach twist. Actually, she wasn't very sure if there had ever been something that had made her feel so uncomfortable that she continued to pursue. It was very strange to have something to work on, to focus on, to try and want to improve, and she was determined to do her very best.

She was a bit early for class today, but that had been subconsciously intentional. Some days, she and Vero filled the house with so much noise that hours flew straight out the window, but some days, no matter how loud the music was or how much she tried to ignore it, the walls felt like they were closing in. So, Willa found herself cross-legged on a bench outside the door to the studio, her thoughts having far lingered from the scene she was supposed to have been studying.

It was the clicking of the door knob that knocked her out of her reverie and Willa looked up and across the small hallway. Her cheeks flushed at the sight of Llewyn (Beckham? She always got confused), still unused to the idea that he was the same boy she'd known in school and not only a wireless and stage star. Though it wasn't to say that he hadn't made her blush at Hogwarts, either.

"Is it too early to come in?" she asked, closing her book.