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 Before you go (please don't go) turn the big light off, Quincy <3
Erik Dwight
 Posted: Apr 12 2017, 11:21 AM
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While Erik had done his best to dress nicely for meeting Quincy’s family, he did not feel like doing it for meeting members of his own family. Instead, he had dressed like he always did - even during the Sweden holidays he had always been looking forward to, despite the disapproving gazes of his grandparents towards muggle clothing (especially the kind of muggle clothing Erik preferred and that looked more like belonging into a scene queen’s wardrobe than his own). Today, it was an outfit of layers, because one soon learned not to trust the British weather. He had a red and black checkered flannel wrapped around his skinny hips, and it made a good enough cushion on the train when he had tried to behave decently until he had given up and shamelessly cuddled against Quincy - his eyes soon falling close and only opening again when they had almost reached King’s Cross and had to leave. Today, Erik was going to buy a new wand - and today, Quincy was going to meet Erik’s grandfather who had first sent a furious howler and then resolved to calmer letters, stating a time and place for when they were going to meet up and pay Ollivander’s a visit.

Had his first wand been from a small wandmaker shop somewhere in a lost village in Sweden, this time they were going for a more conservative method it seemed, and the letters had spoken of this Maximilian Ó Dálaigh, although Erik really couldn’t care less who was made the wand as long as he was getting a new one. Why had be brought Quincy along in the first place, after JR’s offer to come along? First of all he felt the desperate need to spend quality time with his boyfriend without half the school watching them, and second he wanted to return the favour and allow the older boy a glimpse at his life - even if it meant meeting his grandfather who was indeed a rather imposing man, all apologies aside. Erik knew it wouldn’t go too bad, although he had not quite decided on whether he was going to finally admit he liked boys and girls all the same and that with his current quota, heirs were unlikely going to happen.

But the boy had piled up too many secrets in the past months already - so many they were burying him alive, with no air left to breathe. Once they had left the train and walked towards the Leaky Cauldron that would bring them straight into Diagon Alley. They were supposed to meet Erik’s grandfather in front of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, although the weather - a cool breeze and specks of sunlight reflecting from the windows - did not quite demand ice cream yet. It was easy enough to find, which had most likely been one of the criteria to pick this place, as Magnus Leander was well aware of his grandson’s navigation issues. The eagle himself had not spoken much, more commenting on curious things they passed on their way, on the flock of doves that rose from the place in front of the train station, peppered with the usual teasing and mocking words that left his lips with ease even while there was a nervous flutter deep down in his stomach.

Magnus Leander was a man who was hard to overlook, wearing wizarding robes in decent colours without much decoration, his arms crossed and his chin held high as he stood beside a smiling ice cream cone figure that announced today’s special offers, looking utterly out of place. He stood tall at his 6’5 - even taller when one considered Erik descended from the same blood line. His hair was grey and wrinkles were marking his face like the roads on the map, but he still looked capable of exceeding everyone’s expectations around him. Erik spotted him from a distance already, swallowing down the lump in his throat and hesitating for a moment before he reached out and took Quincy’s hand, carefully interlacing their fingers while he knew his grandfather was watching them. It was a small gesture, just those intertwined fingers - yet it meant more than words could have said in that moment.

@Quincy Elkins
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Quincy Elkins
 Posted: Apr 12 2017, 08:15 PM
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Stells
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Muggleborn??
Gryffindor
17 YEARS
277 posts
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Black hearted angels sunk me with kisses on my mouth

Rep: 7 pts [ + | - ]
Quincy ElkinsGryffindor
Awards: 20



Families were complicated, Quincy knew that better than most people, specially considering the story of his own family was one far out of the ordinary. Still, they all had their dynamics, their secrets, their issues, and when he had brought Erik to meet his for one of the usual dinners, he hadn’t really known how it all would go. Granted, he had picked the safest time possible to make such an offer, when not all family members would be there, especially not those who would have been more problematic in such a situation - Sienna, his stepfather, and his younger brother Andre… the last one more than any other. And while only his nicer family members had been there, while he had known they would not say anything mean or act rudely towards Erik (except perhaps for Max), he had still been terrified of the outcome. Mostly, he had been scared of the boy’s reaction, of not knowing how he would feel around a family so clearly different from his own and the possibility that he might hate them. It had been unjustified fear and he knew as much, because that weekend resulted to be rather happy and memorable, but now… now he was facing a completely different kind of fear.

It didn’t seem like it, of course it didn’t, because he would have never admitted to Erik how unsure he felt about all of that, driven by his own guilt to accompany his boyfriend on that trip to Diagon Alley, as his own brother had been the cause for it in the first place. He would have gone anyways without a second thought, but the fact that Andre was involved gave the situation an even more bitter taste and made him want to apologize over and over. He may have lost his fondness for magic years ago, sometimes even cursing the blood that made him a wizard, yet he knew how important and valued a wand was, he treasured his own, and it hurt to know someone he loved so much had lost such a thing because of him. Once again, he ruined everything. Truly, why that boy still loved him and wanted to be with him after all such things had happened was a mystery to Quincy, but he felt guilty, responsible, and incredibly angry at his brother. Sometimes it just seemed like Erik’s life would have been so much better without him.

That was another of those things he didn’t show, another of those things he kept hidden as arms wrapped around the small body of his boyfriend while they were on the train. He didn’t know if his presence actually made things better for the eagle, as it also didn’t seem like quite a good time to be introduced to any of Erik’s family members. All he could do was believe in the boy’s words, believe the fact that he did want to have him by his side that afternoon, and do everything possible to make thing easier for him - which even included dressing up nicer than usual. He wished he wouldn’t have felt so insecure, trying to find the part of him that felt truly happy about all of that, about knowing he was liked enough to be introduced to someone’s family...something he was quite sure had never happened before in the first place. And he was happy, though he was also guilty, and terrified of making things even worse for Erik. Because Quincy was no pureblood, was no great person, and was not the kind of guy anyone would proudly introduce as his boyfriend, in fact, he didn’t even know if he would be introduced as such, and he did not dare ask.

He was so preoccupied with keeping such emotions in check that he almost did not noticed the small things that would have usually bothered him. Like the fact that Erik was wearing the kind of flannel he usually considered hideous -though it did look quite cute on the boy, and didn’t everything? The fact that the day was the kind he hated, so chilly despite already being Spring. And also the fact that from what the blonde had told him, his grandfather definitely did not sound like a nice man in the slightest of manners. He wished they could have taken a moment to smoke before stepping directly into that madness, hazel eyes wandering over the familiar signs of Diagon Alley and causing a faint smile to curve his lips, as he had one too many happy memories of days there with his older siblings. A smile that would have faded as his gaze landed on the man which he assumed was Erik’s grandfather...had the boy not held his hand. Quincy turned to look at him, confused for a single second before gently tightening his grip on the other’s hand, a simple squeeze of reassurance. “It’ll be alright” he whispered so only the boy could hear, smiling. And if he could not believe it for himself, the best he could do was try to believe it for Erik.

@Erik Dwight
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Erik Dwight
 Posted: Apr 13 2017, 10:14 AM
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Tine
6th
Pureblood
Ravenclaw
16 YEARS
3776 posts
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I'll be your breath if you can be mine.

Rep: 34 pts [ + | - ]
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As oblivious and careless as Erik often appeared, he did pick up on those small changes in his boyfriend’s behaviour. It started at his clothes, how they looked more carefully chosen than usual - and how Quincy seemed to mirror Erik’s efforts to look good in front of the other’s family - and in the unusual silence, the little gestures that seemed to come across as nervous. Was Quincy scared of meeting his grandfather? The Swede would understand it, given he had gotten a glimpse at the lion’s dislike for most purebloods, with very few exceptions - himself being one of them, after all. The thing was that the Leanders were not the typical strict pureblood family: their bloodline went far, far back and there had been cases of Erik’s aunt and uncle being tossed from the family tree for marrying muggles - with Kiljan being a result of one of these connections - and in the right company with the right alcoholic beverage, Magnus Leander could be as bad as every other pureblood man of his age.

But they were not openly aggressive towards those of the so-called lower blood - they deemed themselves worthy of the magic they possessed due to their ancient bloodlines, yet they accepted halfbloods and muggleborns unless they stained the names. There were always exceptions to every rule, but in the greater picture, there were families who were so much worse than Erik’s. The Larssons had been one of them, but the boy could not speak ill of the dead. The Nilssons were definitely one of them, and Erik remembered all too well that the way Sigurd had treated house elves had made him cringe more than once, staring at his now ex-boyfriend with wide eyes and a hard pull around his mouth - yet without ever saying a word. He knew better than to start such discussions with anyone. His own upbringing mostly showed in his attitude towards beings, and a rather stuck-up mindset towards werewolves - this was where it all began and ended at the same time, marking him as a rather unconventional offspring of two families with such prestigious names. The Dwights were the real assholes after all - and Erik hoped that Quincy never had to meet any of them.

Now that it was already too late, the eagle wished they would have stopped for coffee and cigarettes before - but that would have to wait for later now, although his grandfather had never minded offering his cigars at home to his grandson and Severin, the latter gladly accepting while Erik himself had coughed his lung out after one drag. His thoughts were wandering far away from the actual situation, remarking that without everyone being here to buy their school equipment, Diagon Alley was almost peaceful and full of beauty, with the windows not crowded with students and only the occasional laughter, the screech of an owl or the ringing of a shop bell breaking through the street. It’ll be alright. Erik gazed up, looking at Quincy and quirking a brow at him. I know, he wanted to reply - but did he really? No, he did not. Instead, he leaned in just enough to brush his lips over Quincy’s cheek, then he marched forwards to the tall, old wizard who pulled his hands out of the pockets of his robes, taking a few steps forward with a rather relaxed expression on his face that was framed by white, short hair, dark brows and greyish stubble that seemed to be indecisive whether it wanted to be as dark as his brows or as white as his hair.

Erik squeezed Quincy’s hand once more, then he had to let go because he was pulled into a bear-like hug that made him look even smaller, Magnus Leander greeting him in quiet Swedish and hitting his shoulder once - gently, of course. “Did you bring the parts at least?” he then asked in English, and the boy nodded, pointing towards his back where his backpack was hanging. “Good, wand parts are dangerous to leave lying around,” his grandfather noted before his blue gaze - so much unlike Erik’s dull, green eyes - focused on Quincy instead, giving him a short lookover before reaching out his hand towards him. He was leaning in a little, as if to make himself shorter when dealing with such short teenagers - something he quite obviously was not exactly used to. “Magnus Leander, nice to meet you - and thanks for accompanying my grandson,” he said in a low and pleasant voice, peppered with an accent that was much stronger than Erik’s own.

@Quincy Elkins

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Quincy Elkins
 Posted: Apr 14 2017, 01:11 AM
Quote
Stells
7th
Muggleborn??
Gryffindor
17 YEARS
277 posts
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Black hearted angels sunk me with kisses on my mouth

Rep: 7 pts [ + | - ]
Quincy ElkinsGryffindor
Awards: 20



Quincy’s distrust of purebloods was most definitely not misplaced, even if some people would have argued it was overly judgemental of him to dislike people simply because of their blood without even trying to get to know them, but was that not exactly what most elitist purebloods did? It may have been hypocritical, and yes, even judgemental, yet it was safer than simply allowing anyone in, because he had been given one too many reasons not to trust those born from families of wizards. It hadn’t always been that way, the Elkins had taught him acceptance and to love magic, he had arrived to Hogwarts happy, full of hopes and with incomparable excitement, he had even made friends among his peers in Gryffindor… and then the bullying had started. He had been a fool, stupid enough to believe being a wizard could be easier than being a muggle had ever been.

Discrimination existed everywhere, he knew as much, someone always found a reason to think themselves better than another, to treat them as if they were nothing but garbage. He had been there before, cast aside by mere children who saw him as different, and he was there again, for the idea that simply being raised around magic made him equal to other wizards was apparently quite stupid. Quincy had never really understood the reasons purebloods had to act in such ways, and he had never really needed to, for all he needed to know was to stay far away from them in order to avoid getting hurt. Because he had been hurt one too many times before, because no real friendship came without a good reason and being mutually beneficial. Those who acted as if approaching simply out of kindness were never to be trusted, and hadn’t he had a conversation regarding the matter with Dracon Yaxley right before he recognized the bonds of friendship that existed between them?

Such thoughts filled his mind as he looked at Diagon Alley, a place so family yet so different from his memories, no longer buzzing with life as students went hurriedly from store to store. He liked it better at those times, it seemed calm and serene, almost soothing the anxiety that rose within him as he stared at the imposing man who was supposed to be his boyfriend’s grandfather, and who also looked nothing like Erik. The kiss surprised him, yet he said nothing about it, as there was little time to say anything in the first place, all words being replaced by the faint smile that curved his lips as he looked at his boyfriend. It felt like those scenes in movies where the hero walks straight towards his death, except for the fact that Quincy was probably the biggest antihero any movie could have ever had.

He watched in silence, not saying a word as Erik let go off his hand and was pulled into a hug much alike the one Max had given him when they had arrived at the Elkins home, though it did look much more intimidating from an outsider’s perspective. The man seemed surprisingly…nice, and to the mind of Quincy, that started raising more than one red flag, especially considering his more than intimidating stature and appearance. He stared at the hand for a single second of hesitation before taking it, hoping his own rather frail hand wouldn’t get broken in that handshake. “Oh, that’s not a problem at all. I’m Quincy, it’s...nice to meet you too” he responded, sounding surprisingly calm and unaffected despite the fact that he was dying to look away from that man’s intense gaze which seemed to pierce right through him.

@Erik Dwight

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Erik Dwight
 Posted: Apr 17 2017, 11:39 AM
Quote
Tine
6th
Pureblood
Ravenclaw
16 YEARS
3776 posts
Offline
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I'll be your breath if you can be mine.

Rep: 34 pts [ + | - ]
Erik DwightAdministrator
Awards: 60



There would always be parts of Quincy’s life and thought processes that Erik could not understand - and he did not wish to spend the majority of their time scratching the scabs from old wounds and making them bleed again. Instead, he accepted Quincy’s views on the world, why the lion was accepting his ideas, doings and thoughts in return. It was a fair exchange that allowed them a certain freedom to keep the things they considered too dark to share for themselves until there would be no way around spilling them. Today, there would be no time to spill more secrets, because their plan was rather tightly laced. It was the weekend, yet it did not change anything - Erik did not know whether his grandfather wanted him to come home afterwards, or whether Quincy and him would simply return to Hogwarts with the same train they had taken to come to London. It made him just a little uncomfortable - when his mother and him had still been living in Scarborough, things had been easier: he could come and go as he pleased, while moving back to Sweden now required side-by-side apparation or the use of the floo network or portkeys. So much effort, and while it sure did spare them some time spent on travelling, it sounded all horribly exhausting to execute.

He knew he had been daring a lot in the past few moments - the intertwined hands, the kiss on the cheek. But what was the worst that Magnus Leander could do? He would call it a phase - but could he really, after he had seen Erik dance with Sigurd at the Yaxley ball, causing a minor scandal with a few moments of having pulled his ex-boyfriend too close? Erik assumed that his whole family had an idea of that he did not spare himself for girls only, but no one would admit to it, because he was an only child after all - he was supposed to marry one day and make sure the Leander bloodline continued, especially when his mother finally pushed getting her maiden name back through. He was fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket while his green gaze was focused on the scene in front of him - his grandfather’s bear-like hand taking Quincy’s, which looked utterly terrifying, to be entirely honest. The blonde boy was chewing on his left lip ring while watching them.

The quiet question of Quincy Who? was drawn on Mister Leander’s face, yet he did not ask it out loud and simply gave the boy a smile before letting go off his hand again, patting Erik’s shoulder instead. He also did not comment on the fact he had witnessed both the handholding and the kiss on the cheek, simply gesturing towards the ice cream parlour he had been waiting for. “There had been customers when I passed by Ollivander’s earlier, so do you want to have ice cream or anything else first? I am paying?” Magnus Leander gave the boys a questioning look, and Erik just nodded, because it could not exactly hurt to have a break before getting a new wand. He was not prepared to go through the motions just yet, and so he watched how his grandfather turned towards the door and held it open for the two of them, his blue gaze wandering towards the street again that looked so abandoned.

Erik reached out and tugged on Quincy’s sleeve, dragging him gently along towards one of the tables by the window. Even while the weather was rather uncomfortable, the parlour was filled with daylight that reflected from shining tables and the menus on it, while the room was filled with sweet scents of hot chocolate and cake, different ice cream flavours displayed by the counter. Erik slipped onto a chair and made sure to tap the one right beside him, while his grandfather sat down across from the boys, slowly taking off his jacket and looking at the menu with a concentrated frown on his face. “Now, what would you like to order?” he asked - once more displaying that he was not talking to teenage boys often.

@Quincy Elkins

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Quincy Elkins
 Posted: Apr 21 2017, 02:32 AM
Quote
Stells
7th
Muggleborn??
Gryffindor
17 YEARS
277 posts
Offline
Black hearted angels sunk me with kisses on my mouth

Rep: 7 pts [ + | - ]
Quincy ElkinsGryffindor
Awards: 20



There was a part of him which was thankful for getting as far from Hogwarts as possible, even if it was just for a few hours and they would end up returning to the school later. It wasn’t that he hated his life there, but things lately had been… complicated, even more than usual, and -by Quincy standards- more complicated than usual meant everything had turned into a fucking soap opera worthy of being shown on Telemundo for housewives to watch while preparing supper. Not like he knew anything about those things, as horrible telenovelas thankfully weren’t among his TV show guilty pleasures (even if bad sitcoms were). Anyway, back to the telenovela that was his life, it had become crazy, and sometimes he really wished to go back to the days when things were calm and he could drink and party and avoid his every issue.

Not being able to avoid issues was exactly the problem, as they all seemed to appear and pile up before him, from the roommate he hated being best friends with his boyfriend to the fact that now his younger siblings had transferred to Hogwarts and were causing havoc and destruction. Truthfully, he could avoid the former for the sake of the latter, as family always ended up taking priority in his life, and he ended up finding himself apologizing for Anais’ misbehaviors and rudeness over and over even when he would never even consider apologizing for anything he said to anyone outside of those he loved and cherished. But Anais wasn’t even the biggest of problems there, oh no, it was Andre, because those hurtful words still lingered in Quincy’s mind, increasing his guilt and making him feel horrible about his own actions, because he knew the boy was right and he was a terrible person, and because he knew Erik would eventually realize this. And that was part of the problem too, as of all people, Andre had decided to mess with his boyfriend. Freaking shitshow.

So, it was understandable why he would have wanted to get away from Hogwarts, even if the reason for that visit to Diagon Alley was not a good one and arguably entirely his fault and no one else’s. Of this he was painfully aware, specially while looking at Erik’s grandfather, finding himself filled with guilt and self hatred. The worst part was that he knew. He knew how insignificant and pathetic he was, how worthless he must have looked to the eyes of that man who so obviously cared about things like blood purity and social status, and how worthless he looked to his own eyes too. All he could do was nod, as he was certainly not stupid enough to tell some old pureblood wizard that he really didn’t feel like having icecream because it was cold enough already.

The icecream parlour seemed like a place almost unfitting for Diagon Alley, surrounded by all those stores fulled of magical items. It seemed common and mundane, though somehow more welcoming than any of those other places, making Quincy realize how uncomfortable he felt with magic at times, how -even though being raised around it- he sometimes just felt like he didn’t belong at all, finding fondness for the sight of sunlight filtering through windows, laminated menus and colorful icecreams of all kinds of flavors. He sat next to Erik, and this time he chose not to answer, looking over at his boyfriend instead, hazel eyes almost pleading for a decision to be made for him as a brow was raised, really not feeling in the mood to upset the boy’s grandfather, or to eat icecream. A dilemma, wasn’t it?

@Erik Dwight

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Erik Dwight
 Posted: Yesterday at 11:15 am
Quote
Tine
6th
Pureblood
Ravenclaw
16 YEARS
3776 posts
Offline
neutral
I'll be your breath if you can be mine.

Rep: 34 pts [ + | - ]
Erik DwightAdministrator
Awards: 60



It was always good to get away from Hogwarts and everyone who was attending the school - and Erik could say that without remorse, because he had never felt like transferring and had never felt like he belonged everyone else but Hogwarts. Durmstrang had never been an option - even though the whole Swedish side of the family had been going there. At the time his letter had arrived, he had been living in Scarborough already, roots ripped out of the soil and placed somewhere where they never really belonged to. Severin had often pointed out that Erik wouldn’t have made it in Durmstrang, anyway - and in the end, the boy was sure his grandfather had been thinking the same when agreeing to sending the boy to Hogwarts, where William Dwight had been going, too. Sometimes, Erik pondered if things would have been any different if he went to Durmstrang instead - if only to improve his skills with rune magic instead of learning Latin-based magic to such an extent. His knowledge was based on what had been taught to him at home, Ancient Runes never replacing the education those who went to school in the North received.

Still, being here with Quincy and with his grandfather was anything but relaxing. Being with each of them separately was easy - he was familiar with his grandfather and familiar with Quincy. Having both by his side at once was an odd occurrence - a clash of cultures even, despite Magnus Leander’s attempts to act like he was always dealing with teenage boys he had never met before and who have been holding hands with his grandson before. Something told Erik that he was going to be prodded about this later on - if not with Quincy around still, as he could feel those blue eyes grazing them every now and then with subtle curiosity. Shuffling forward on his seat, the eagle’s hand ran over his own forearm for a moment before he glanced at his boyfriend, picking up the pleading gaze that was thrown his way.

He smiled, reaching out and resting his fingers lightly on the older boy’s wrist, while his other hand grabbed the menu again, moving closer towards Quincy. “It’s too fucking cold for ice cream,” he announced, and there was a sound somewhere between a warning and a snort coming from his grandfather, hidden behind a single cough. Erik looked up and grinned at him, before his whole attention was focused on the boy beside him again. “Do you like apple strudel? It comes with hot custard? We could share?” His voice was more quiet than usual, his head half resting against Quincy’s shoulder while his knee touched the lion’s underneath the table. He was chewing on his lip ring, yet the hand resting on the table and the menu was not showing how tense he was.

“Apple strudel? I have not seen it on the menu, look at me getting old…,” Magnus Leander muttered and leaned forward to gaze at the picture beside the writing, shaking his head at himself. “I would take the same, if you want it. And coffee. Coffee is important. Are you drinking coffee, Quincy?” he asked, obviously rather keen on making small talk while his grandson was busy seeking physical contact with his boyfriend.

@Quincy Elkins

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