[attr="class","backgde"]

[attr="class","lyric1de"]won't go down easy

[attr="class","lyricbgde"]

[attr="class","lyric2de"]And when the devil comes to plea
he'll be running quicker
than you've ever seen

[attr="class","textbodde"]Nikolaj would be lying if he said he had braced himself for this. Losing magic, that was... no one could have seen that coming. And even he, as logical as he tried to be nearly all of the time, had held out hope that the magic would come back as all of his other symptoms dissipated. But that hadn't been the case at all. He was left magicless, resorting to Floo to work every damn day. Once an expert dueller, now unable to even summon his own jacket. It was honestly appalling, in Nik's opinion. How could the whole of the magical world crumble to its knees at the hand of a cold, of all things? A little fever and they were all suddenly falling apart. He was beside himself. This was unlike anything he could have ever imagined. Nikolaj had known hardship, relatively speaking. He had lost his parents to a war, he had made hard decisions in his life, but this was still something that had knocked the wind out of him. For the first time in his life, Nikolaj was at a loss for what to do. What his next steps should be.

He was grateful, at least, that Karel was safely away at Hogwarts. The way it was shaping up, it didn't seem that this sickness, whatever it was, was affecting anyone of Hogwarts age--but Nikolaj still felt some comfort in knowing that his nephew was safely away from all of this. The last thing he wanted, anyways, was for him to see his parents and uncle in this state. So it was really for the best that he was far away in the Scottish Highlands. At the very least, things at the Ministry were picking back up again. The good thing about the Department of Commerce was that it required very little magic, save for a few Arithmancer tricks every now and then. Still, the gross of their inefficiency had been people being stuck in Pyxis--but now that that was done with, their productivity was picking up once again, and Nikolaj had certainly been burying himself in his work. Anything to get his mind off the fact that... that he was as useless as a damn Squib. It was disgraceful.

But working too much was also a bad thing, so Nik had delegated most of his Ministry tasks for the day and decided to work from home. Even that had grown irritating after some time. The monotony honestly only made his mind more permeable to his spiralling thoughts, so he had decided to finally pull out the car. It was strange in the circles he usually held to have a car, of all things, but it was also just one of the things that Nik could have to himself. And, ironically, it now came in handy. So he had resolved to drive up to Galway for the day, take in some sights, and do just about anything that kept his mind from wandering down the dark path of doubt. Because he had only been able to see the worst case scenario ever since that first day he hadn't been able to cast a simple summoning charm

Eventually, Nik had found his way to this old place. A castle of legends. He was far from an Alchemist, but the castle itself had an impressive architecture that only seemed more regal amidst the reds and yellows of autumn. Dried leaves crunched under his feet as Nikolaj made his way up to the castle's doors, the cold autumn breeze sending a light chill through him. He made his way up spiral staircases, finally settling by a window alcove that overlooked the Galway seaside. Grey skies, conveniently matching his mood over the last month.

@ open | 625 words | outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW

[googlefont=Dancing Script]
[newclass=.backgde]width:410px;background:url('http://www.designbolts.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/Black-wood-photoshop-pattern-for-website-background.jpg');border-top:10px solid #125235;border-bottom:10px solid #125235;[/newclass]
[newclass=.lyric1de]color:#125235;text:2px 0px #125235,0px 2px #125235,0px -2px #125235,-2px 0px #125235;font:30px Dancing Script;font-weight:bold;margin-bottom:-20px; text-align: left;text-transform:lowercase;margin-left:23px;padding-top:10px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.lyric2de]font:9px Verdana;line-height:9px;text-align:justify;color:#e6e6e6;text-transform:uppercase;float:left;margin-top:-8px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.lyricbgde]padding:20px;background:#262626;margin-left:20px;border-bottom:2px #125235 solid;[/newclass]
[newclass=.textbodde]width:300px;font:10px Verdana;text-align:justify;padding:20px;background:#262626;color:#e6e6e6;line-height:14px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred]text-align:center;font-size:6pt;color:rgb(132, 132, 132);letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);[/newclass]

Won't Go Down Easy

By now, it was almost a month since she had completely recovered from the flu. It had been bad in and of itself. She wasn’t used to lying around and getting nauseous from merely sitting up. She hadn’t been sick for… she couldn’t remember the last time she had been sick, she must have been very little. She had had a cold every now and then, that yes, and then she’d go to the apothecary and get a potion. Exactly this she had done back in the beginning of September, just without any positive result. And then soon afterwards rumours had started about a flu going around and infecting everyone, a flu against none of the usual remedies were of any help. This would have been disquieting already, but then the rumours had become even more bizarre — or as she by now knew, true. Magic would fade. There had been an incident only the day before when one of her seamstresses had been working on a hem and her needle just started to sow around wildly and out of control. Luckily she had been able to reassume control over the needle seconds afterwards. But it had disquieted her and she had sent the woman home, thinking that it might be the exhaustion or the headache as her employee had been sickly too. Most of them had been so but continued working, thinking that it’d stop soon and as long as they regularly disinfected their hands, nothing bad could follow out of a mild cold. But soon afterwards, her cashier had a small crisis trying to open the till with her wand. And then, her own control failed her while observing scissors cutting out patterns.

She had had to close the shop, with all the employees but one seamstress at the hospital. She didn’t know what she would do without this one woman. She wasn’t used to do things the Muggle way. She knew how of course — the basic steps remained the same — but it was so tedious. Muggles at least had machines to sew, but she had never bought any. Why should she when magic provided just as good if not better results. It seemed though as if she’d now have to look at those things. But she knew nothing about it. Machines. She didn’t like the sound of that. And she even less liked to walk into a Muggle shop and having to admit that she knew nothing about their products. She knew how to sew perfectly, but she would appear like an idiot before this other women. So she sent a seamstress, the same to who the incident with the needle had happened. She’d do just fine. As for the rest of them, they’d have to close the shop for the next few days while they tried to figure out how they could work. And there was almost nothing she could do.

She had spent the whole morning trying to figure out whether they could make the Muggle technology work, and she hadn’t progressed one step. She had needed a break. She wasn’t entirely sure why she had decided on going to Merlin’s Castle. Decades ago she had had a friend studying there and she had visited regularly during a few months. But that was long gone. The friend was neither there anymore nor even a friend. But for some reason she had felt like coming to this house. But as she walked up to it, she smiled to herself. The place still had a vague familiarity to it, and the feeling increased as she entered and walked up a few staircases. It was amazing how much she remembered of where which alchemists were usually found and who it was vital never to interrupt (which were the majority, at least it had appeared like that back then). But there was an alcove a little further ahead where she had used to sit with her friend. Maybe she’d sit down there for a moment. For old times’ sake.

But when she reached her destination, there was already someone sitting there. She hesitated whether she should turn around and just go. Judging from his clothes… he didn’t look like an alchemist, at least not one that was currently working, judging from his clothes. She stepped closer and leant against the wall opposite, nodding at the man. If he didn’t want company, she’d just go. Reminiscing wasn’t the same when someone else was present.

[attr="class","backgde"]

[attr="class","lyric1de"]won't go down easy

[attr="class","lyricbgde"]

[attr="class","lyric2de"]AND WHEN THE DEVIL COMES TO PLEA
HE'LL BE RUNNING QUICKER
THAN YOU'VE EVER SEEN

[attr="class","textbodde"]Nikolaj didn't really drive often. The antique car sitting in the garage was more of a... collectible. It was something his father had passed down to him, anyways, and Nik hadn't seen any reason to drive before. But now, without magic... there was plenty of reason to do that. He could Floo to most places, as obnoxious as it was. Nikolaj didn't really fancy his clothes being covered in soot and ash, but it was otherwise a painless experience. Other than that, and the occasional side-along apparition he would do with his sister, travel was limited. And Kopitar Manor was very secluded. So he had taken to driving a lot more. But this was the first time he had done something as outlandish as driving for hours on end just to get to Galway, of all places. The epidemic was changing... a lot.

And that was what was on his mind the most. Nikolaj knew that Dani was busy at St. Mungo's, the search for a cure was intense but yielding no successful results as of yet. Most of all, though, Nik was thinking of the numbers, as was his nature. He had had to bear witness to the epidemic in numbers, after all. Nikolaj had watched the effect that the whole thing had had on the economy, all very quantifiable and terrifying. Things were very slowly picking up again, fortunately. That one company in Ireland was flourishing like never before--the one that incorporated muggle technology with magic. Founded by a mudblood, yes, but it was one of the few saving graces in their current state.

That was the other thing that was getting to Nik. This epidemic... didn't seem to care who it affected. Purebloods, halfbloods, mudbloods, part-veelas--as far as Nikolaj had heard, it was getting people sick or leaving them unharmed just the same. Blood didn't matter. Creature status didn't matter. But this was all anecdotal. Nikolaj wanted to run the numbers on this. He wanted to get a clear outlook of just how many of what had been affected. Did the epidemic target anyone in particular? The data would show it, whether that was purebloods or mudbloods or werewolves...

Werewolves. Not that Nikolaj knew of many werewolves, but he was fairly sure Fer would've mentioned something, if werewolves were getting sick left, right, and centre.

Lost in thought, Nikolaj almost hadn't noticed the other person approaching the alcove. Still, he looked up just in time to see the woman give him a nod, and Nikolaj returned it as he greeted, "Afternoon." His gaze lingered for a moment, though. Her face looked familiar, for some reason. "I hope this isn't too forward, but I keep thinking you look familiar. Have we met before?"

@ stranger? | 455 words | outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW

[googlefont=Dancing Script]
[newclass=.backgde]width:410px;background:url('http://www.designbolts.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/Black-wood-photoshop-pattern-for-website-background.jpg');border-top:10px solid #125235;border-bottom:10px solid #125235;[/newclass]
[newclass=.lyric1de]color:#125235;text:2px 0px #125235,0px 2px #125235,0px -2px #125235,-2px 0px #125235;font:30px Dancing Script;font-weight:bold;margin-bottom:-20px; text-align: left;text-transform:lowercase;margin-left:23px;padding-top:10px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.lyric2de]font:9px Verdana;line-height:9px;text-align:justify;color:#e6e6e6;text-transform:uppercase;float:left;margin-top:-8px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.lyricbgde]padding:20px;background:#262626;margin-left:20px;border-bottom:2px #125235 solid;[/newclass]
[newclass=.textbodde]width:300px;font:10px Verdana;text-align:justify;padding:20px;background:#262626;color:#e6e6e6;line-height:14px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred]text-align:center;font-size:6pt;color:rgb(132, 132, 132);letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);[/newclass]

Things had got so much more difficult. When she had still been at hospital, she hadn’t realised what an impact this would have on her life. While she had been sick, she didn’t have the energy to think far ahead. Her shop had been closed, and all her employees lying around in the hospital too. None of them had escaped. Some people had remained healthy and magical, but not the ones that were working for her. It was very unfortunate. She had even went and visited some of her retired workers, but even these had been infected. It was unfortunate. And with the current crisis, there was no chance that she’d find someone still magical who would want to work for her. There were so many jobs that needed magic and that would be payed far better now. She was not rich enough for such increased costs. The shop was making steady profit, but much of it went into the maintenance of the shop and all the material they needed. Also, with circumstances this drastically changed, they’d be working at a far slower pace, so she might even have to cut wages. She’d have to do a lot of maths and hope that it somehow would add up.

On the bright side, it seemed that the flu was miraculously not infecting minors. Her daughters were healthy, and judging from what they wrote, almost no Hogwarts students had got sick. It had been one of the things that had worried her the most while in hospital — what she should do if the girls had no longer any magic. Whether they’d be able to stay at Hogwarts. Where they would be put if not. While she was sick, she couldn’t look after them too. And then there had also been the worry how the school would react. Hogwarts had been decidedly anti-Muggleborn during the past few years, and that might also extend to children that lost their magic, especially if one of their parents had been Muggleborn. But it no longer mattered — or not mattered for the moment. Certainly, they were healthy and magical now, but maybe this flu came in different waves and one day it’d hit Hogwarts and infect everyone there. At least she would now be able again to look after them. And there was little point in worrying. It was not like she could do anything against viruses or whatever this sickness was.

A few hours away from Diagon Alley and the chaos that her shop currently was would hopefully help to free her head from all these troubles — to escape to a time when she could live from day to day without worrying about a thousand things. In hindsight, the things that worried her in her twenties seemed so trivial and almost humorous, and she hadn’t been here at Merlin’s Castle since her mid-twenties, certainly not since Cathy was born. Maybe once when pregnant? She couldn’t remember just now, and then the man sitting where she had intended to be addressed her. “Good afternoon,” she said. Hadn't she already seen him somewhere? She should remember his name if he was a customer… “It is very well possible. I own Twilfitt and Tatting’s in Diagon Alley. I think I already had the honour of seeing you there?”