bit of a fixer-upper | jimbo

[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

jan 2026

HOGSMEADE WEEKEND WAS USUALLY A TIME that Jimmie highly anticipated. She was prone to itchy feet, and the restricting qualities of boarding school had always been a challenge for her. If she wasn't sending owl after owl to her father, or mailing rough copy edits of mock articles to various papers, she was being a bit too nosy for people's general taste. This weekend in particular was not one that Jimmie anticipated.

Hands sweating, Jimmie rolled the scroll of parchment in her fist again and again. It was tied neatly with a piece of brown string and smelled of fine, black ink. Very professional, Jimmie had thought, as she'd drafted its final edit the night before. It was her monthly lunch with her father, planned to detail in an attempt to fit it around his extremely busy schedule. He was always a keen father, but Jimmie knew that. Answering her endless owls as if each were the first, even though she knew he had countless contracts of his own to draft.

Jimmie entered the Three Broomsticks with a stiff posture. Her face flushed and icy blonde hair sticking to her forehead. She swiped it away impatiently, spotting her father immediately. It was hard not to, he was the best dressed man in the entire pub. Then again, he had a habit of overdressing. She'd always sort of liked it.

"Hi," She said breathlessly, hugging him woodenly before she settled in to the seat opposite him. "Before-" She held up a halting hand, closing her eyes to compose herself. "Let me stop you before you start." She warned him, as if they were business associates. It was the only way she could do this without making a fool out of herself. "I have to ask you to sign this contract." She instructed him, holding out the scroll of parchment she'd been manhandling all the way from Hogwarts. "It's nothing dangerous, but I can't continue this-" She motioned between them, "meeting until we've ironed out the... logistics." She mirrored her father's most stern, professional mannerisms, nodding nervously the entire time.

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[jimbo brian blishwick vi]

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Jimbo was about to be spending a lot more time in Hogsmeade than he already had been, all thanks to a new business venture that he had decided to enter into: the food industry! More specifically, he had managed to time his monthly meetup with his daughter as a way to scout a prime location for his planned pizzeria. It was a strange business to enter into, but as far as he could tell, the magical community was desperately lacking in that area and needed a place to outsource quick food from for the multiple pubs that had been sprouting up and allowed customers to bring their own food. The plans for it had been bubbling in the back of his brain for years now, though he had never felt like there was a perfect time for it than now. The capital was there (and had been), so even if it was a flop, he wouldn’t lose everything. And how much different could restaurant planning be from wedding planning? Certainly a lot less stressful than dealing with two Pureblood families and all the ceremonies they typically wanted included in their wedding packages. Plus there was the addition of Hogwarts right next door, and he knew that he would probably be able to work a deal with them. On paper, it looked flawless to him, like most things he did.

So to say he was far exceeded the normal definition of being punctual in meeting Jameson this month at the Three Broomsticks would be an understatement. The location in mind was certainly the perfect spot, and he had the contract of sale sitting gently in his jacket pocket, for review by a property lawyer he knew back in Diagon Alley. In his quick look at it, it seemed good on paper, and he knew he had a good eye for proper contracts, since that was his entire business.

His daughter arrived, and he stood up from the table, remembering not to make a scene like he normally did. There was always the nagging voice in the back of his head that told him to keep his vocal pitch low, but it was hard not to want to cut through the boom of voices being thrown out by all of the students around him in the pub. Before he could get a word out after their hug, she cut him off and held out a rolled up piece of paper, explaining that it was a contract that she needed him to look at and sign. That was…curious. “Fair enough,” he said simply as he accepted the paper and unfurled it.

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[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

jan 2026

SITTING STIFFLY IN HER SEAT, JIMMIE FLINCHED at the jarring scrape of wooden chair legs as she slid herself in. She had postponed such a revelation for so long that it was becoming too difficult to hide. Confiding in those she trusted most, or more likely those who were least likely to believed should they tell. Jimmie had always known her father deserved to know, it was just an awful practice to do so. He'd always felt like a failure, she reckoned, for not carrying on the family legacy after her mum died. This would set his hair on fire.

The parchment was handed over, and her dad appeared infinitely amused as he untied the string. The paper scraping loudly as he unrolled it with a careful consideration. "Just... read it first... sign it... and then I'll tell you." Jimmie wondered if her father would understand what she was saying and simply burn the contract, panicking quietly at the thought before she clasped her hands tightly and drew on her professional composure. He'd known, but so what. He still had to sign it... right? 

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CONTRACT

This contract is entered by and between JAMESON HERA BLISHWICK (“First Party”), and JIMBO BRIAN BLISHWICK VI (“Second Party”). The terms of this Legal Agreement shall begin on FEBRUARY 2026 and shall continue through until the death of First Party, when all parties involved are legally released from said Agreement.
The specific terms of this Agreement are as follows:

1. JIMBO BRIAN BLISHWICK VI will not repeat a single word discussed during the meeting on FEBRUARY 2026 to anyone or anything – dead or alive.
2. JIMBO BRIAN BLISHWICK VI is not permitted to gloat, celebrate or tell the First Party they ‘told them so’.
3. JIMBO BRIAN BLISHWICK VI must keep the secret of First Party’s hereditary affliction entirely confidential unless given explicit legal and written permission to do otherwise.
4. JIMBO BRIAN BLISHWICK VI is not permitted to disclose this affliction to any family healers or emergency personnel – including during life-threatening scenarios.
5. JIMBO BRIAN BLISHWICK VI must therefore provide First Party with any knowledge on how to terminate or control the hereditary affliction in question without breaking the confidential nature of the contract.
6. JIMBO BRIAN BLISHWICK VI is not permitted to hug First Party when they learn of the nature of First Party’s affliction.

In consideration of the mutual promise set forth herein, the First Party covenants and agrees that they shall permit the Second Party to privately celebrate and that they understand the difficulties set forth in the contract’s terms listed above. The Second Party covenants and agrees that it shall do everything in their power to maintain the confidentiality and discretion involved in the personal affliction of the First Party and that they understand the severity of the contract set before them.
This Contract may not be modified in any manner unless in writing and signed by bother Parties. This document and any attachments hereto constitute the entire agreement between the Parties. This Contract shall be magically binding upon the Parties, their successors, heirs and assigns and shall be enforced under the laws of the Ministry of Magic – Statue of Secrecy.

(SIGNATURE)_________          (SIGNATURE)_________

(PRINT NAME)_________         (PRINT NAME)_________

(ADDRESS)_________              (ADDRESS)_________

[jimbo brian blishwick vi]

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The blocky letters that spelled out ‘CONTRACT’ standing starkly at the top of the paper as Jimbo unfurled the roll immediately piqued his interest on what this could be. Jimmie was always concocting funny little narratives and stories, her actual journalistic ventures over the last few years actually being pushed forward as serious pieces to the Prophet and who knew what other publications being the outliers, but having his daughter draw up an actual contract was certainly different from the norm, even for her. From a cursory glance at the wording utilized, before he even started to delve into the contents of the contract, her choice in verbiage made him smile. Despite the years of fighting over not wanting to work in the family business and pretending that it didn’t exist until his wallet was needed, she had definitely paid close enough attention to the contracts and marriage licenses that he had been drawing up in front of her since before she could read on her own. The meat of it all was curious though. Jimbo kept his mouth shut as promised as he scanned the contract over a few times.

Aside from a few contradictory statements within the stipulations (which could have been appendices underneath one or more of them), the actual contract was well written for a first-timer. But Jimbo wasn’t here to give pointers on legalese and contracts – Jimmie was asking him read and sign it. The third outlined bulletin was what clued him in on what could be going on. Hereditary affliction could only mean one thing for a Blishwick, and a bubble of joy felt like it was bouncing around inside him. He was due to be the last! Obviously once he signed there was going to be an actual discussion on what this was about, and if it happened to be what it seemed to be, then there were some serious conversations that were going to be had about the whole things.

Jimbo quickly read through the contract one last time and then signed, printed, and dated the bottom with his wand, before sliding it across the table to Jimmie for her to do so as well. “How long have you known?” he asked, trying to keep his excitement even, so as not to break the second sixth terms within the contract immediately.

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[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

jan 2026

THE TIME BETWEEN WHEN JIMMIE HANDED HER father the contract, and Jimbo actually reading it in full was agonising for her. Jimmie was frozen at first, stiff and pale as she watched him unroll it with interest. That cheerful tilt to his mouth that brought plenty of pennies and contracts to his doorstep. The Blishwick's were born money-makers, her father just happened to make it look terribly effortless. Jimmie did not appreciate the amusement, her fingers beginning to drum against the wooden table while she waited with bated breath.

Mind whirring, she wondered what she might do if he refused. Or, even worse, if he wanted to negotiate. However, there was only a moment after his eyes stopped sweeping and he pulled out his wand of flexible rosewood. She drew in a sharp breath, watching him sign it as she realised yes, she would have to actually tell him. She'd spent so much time perfecting the art of 'how' that she'd forgotten about the anxiety of her execution. She took it back with haste, mouth pursed tightly as she signed her own name by his and it was sealed. She rolled it up hastily and stuffed it back in to her satchel.

Jimmie couldn't bear to look at him at first, her eyes scanning the pub. The waiters, the bartenders. The people enjoying frothy butterbeers and bitter firewhiskey's. When he spoke, her attention snapped and she looked at him at once. There it was, the nail in her coffin. Perhaps she was being dramatic, but it all felt very life-changing. He'd never look at her the same, she thought. There was a hunger in inheritance.

"Um," She hummed after a sharp intake of breath. "About a year..." She pretended to think about it, elbow on the table as she scratched a phantom itch behind her ear restlessly. "Maybe a little more." It had been more - try October 2024. Jimmie felt the truth might upset him. "It was just... it didn't feel real at first." She bit the inside of her cheek in frustration. "Headaches, nausea..." Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "Something in the corner of my eye..." Her fingers fluttered, as if to demonstrate. "I tried to ignore it, experimented a little-" She did not clarify how, afraid of paternal disapproval. "But... after a while it didn't go away." She dropped her gaze sadly, as if burdened by some terrible affliction. "It just keeps getting worse." And then, to her utter humiliation, Jimmie felt as if she might cry. 

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[jimbo brian blishwick vi]

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The hesitation that followed his question was expected, though he wondered for a moment if she was going to completely back out of the contract despite having signed it. Jimbo listened though, which he happened to do on occasion when the moment actually required it. If she was going this far just to discuss whatever was going on with her, then it was clearly a serious matter. A lot of things were serious with Jimmie, as that was her nature, but this was a new precedent in its own right. So he listened as she took her time to explain what had been happened, how long she had been experiencing it, and what she had tried so far. His mental notes that he had started to take as she spoke quickly proved to be useless, as it was quite apparent right away that whatever was going on was not the same as what he had experienced at her age, or his own father when the power had first been described to him. That was…interesting.

“I don’t mean to alarm you, but those symptoms you described…they don’t normally happen when it starts to manifest,” Jimbo said quietly, trying to pick the correct words so his daughter wouldn’t get flustered over the realization. He would have to ask his father and grandfather about their own experiences with the power, and hopefully they would have knowledge from the older Jimbos as well. Jimmie ticked off the box of being the first-born Blishwick, though it had taken a lot longer to make itself known that it had with him. It was all so curious…

As for the experiments, that seemed only natural to do since it was hypothetically the same ability, the only difference being the headaches and nausea. “These tests you’ve been doing…are they similar to how I conduct mine at work? And are the headaches occurring when you’re focusing on it more or just all the time in general?” Jimbo didn’t want to play twenty questions with her since there was clearly something different going on here, but he figured it was best to get to the root of the problem as fast as possible. There was nothing that a trip to St. Mungo’s could do for her, as they were only trained in injuries caused by magic. A headache from the Blishwick’s Love Weaver (patent still pending) was not going to cut it with the Mediwizards and Healers.

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[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

jan 2026

DEEP DOWN, JIMMIE HAD ALREADY KNOWN THAT her own experience with love-weaving was a little different to her father's. Jimbo had always been very transparent about the way he conducted his 'special skill'. He didn't talk about strings, or shades, or the mess of it all. It was very precise, an almost exact science. Jimmie had just failed to ever acknowledge that reality, because she'd known that at its root it was the same. She couldn't ignore a connection.

"I know..." Jimmie admitted after a minute, her expression grave as she looked down at her hands. "I remember." Somehow, Jimmie had hoped her father wouldn't catch on so very quickly. But, she should have known better. Jimbo was known for being annoyingly observant - that's why he was so good at his job. "They're different." She said, clearing her throat and squaring her shoulders. "Mine... is different." Though Jimbo already knew this, Jimmie felt it had to be said. "I can- I see the connections." Her mouth twisted with distaste. "Like strings tangling people together." She wrung her hands out anxiously.

"I just... I want you to teach me how to make it go away." She said in one great breath. Her shoulders slumping as she sat low in her seat. "It wasn't all the time to begin with, but I can't make it go away like I used to." Jimmie's voice was stiff with tears, her mouth downturned as she tried desperately to make her father understand without crying. She couldn't cry, it wasn't professional. "The headaches- Whenever I ignore it for too long it's like my head is so full it's about to burst." She pressed a sweating palm against the side of her face and scowled. "You have to know how to make it stop, dad." She pleaded, her bottom lip trembling. "I don't want it."

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[jimbo brian blishwick vi]

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The initial excitement over the fact that his daughter had actually inherited the family ability waned drastically over the course of their conversation. Jimbo knew that she disliked the business and whatnot, though calling it an absolute abhorrence was probably too much. Now she was saddled with something she had spent the majority of her life without. Having it come on suddenly like this was absolutely curious and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. The love weaver almost always manifested early on according to the elder Jimbos, so taking this long to manifest was confusing. Obviously talking to his father and grandfather was the first thing he was going to do after this lunch, because it was going to take the combined brainpower of the family to figure it out. Somehow it decided to appear in Jimmie at a later date and in a different form from the sound of it.

“Like a thread of fate…” Jimbo mused quietly as he scratched his chin. It was such a curious way for it show itself. He had always joked to himself that such a thing existed, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to make a career out of it. With the way his ability worked, knowing the two people and their interests was enough for his brain to make check-marks and bring them both forward. Those invisible lines of love magic were more to explain how his power functioned to those that didn’t quite grasp it, but the fact that it actually did exist and his daughter could see it? Beyond fascinating.

But the businessman and entrepreneurial side of him had to sit to the side right now. Jimmie was very clearly distraught over this and her health was starting to suffer because of it. It concerned him that the visual manifestation of threads of fate could cause headaches and be a distraction. As she put it, turning it off should have been simple enough, especially if it was just the love weaver in a different form. Jimbo slid out of his side of the booth and into the one his daughter was sitting in, putting his arm around her in comfort. “We’ll work on this together, okay? I’ll talk to grandpa this evening and see if he has any insight that could help with it. Get you back in working order without headaches or lines! Alright?”

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[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

jan 2026

PERHAPS JIMMIE SHOULD HAVE BEEN THRILLED. After all, her instinctive distaste for the Blishwick speciality had only been born because of her dad's obvious disappointment towards her. All the Blishwick firstborns of note had been boys, and Jimmie was decidedly not a boy. In the eyes of history and commonality, it should have meant that Jimmie was born to be exceptionally ordinary. No weaving, no business, no nothing. This was suddenly, and quite abruptly, not true. She supposed that was why her father was so pleased, he had not fathered a dud in the end. But, Jimmie was quite certain of her steady dislike - she was absolutely, unequivocally not thrilled.

"Don't say that," She mumbled, letting her face fall into her hands. Fate sounded so final, so very Blishwick. She hated that it was tied to her, to what she could see. Though her father simply did not share this feeling, as when she peeked at him through her fingers, he seemed to glow with curiosity. She groaned loudly, curling her toes in her shoes in frustration. Her chin was pressed firmly to her chest in the ensuing silence, unable to look up in case she was subjected to Jimbo's pound-sign eyes. It meant she didn't realise her father had moved until he slid into the booth beside her.

Chin wobbling, Jimmie felt like a child dwarfed under her dad's arm as he spoke low and soothing. She could do nothing but nod in reply, her eyes glistening and face a teary red. "Okay..." She swallowed thickly. "Does that mean we have to tell him too?" She cringed with a wrinkled nose, thinking of how the senior Blishwick would likely wish to plan an extravagant dinner to declare the family line rejuvenated. Much like how they'd practically grieved its demise when she was born. How the times had changed. She sagged into her dad's side and sighed, both in relief and resignation. 

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[jimbo brian blishwick vi]

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Maybe he needed to tip-toe around this a lot more than he initially thought. When it had been his turn for the power to appear, he had been expecting it, knowing how it would manifest and what it would do to him. Five Jimbos worth of experience before him dictated that. Jimmie's situation was categorically different for a number of reasons: when it appeared, why it appeared, and how it appeared to her. Never had he heard of this 'thread of fate', as he was now calling it, showing itself for any of his forefathers, and a bit of research and digging was going to be necessary. Thankfully there were enough Jimbos still alive and kicking that they could have a collective sit down and think it through. While Jimmie didn't want him to spill it all just yet to the family, their infinite wisdom was going to be so useful to getting to the bottom of it all. At least it was an easy enough to keep secret from the res of the family. It wasn't like the rest of them could see what she was seeing.

"I think it might be important to clue him in at some point, so yes." He knew exactly how his father would react to it too, because Jimbo thought the same way at times. Keeping such a revelation on the down low within the Blishwick clan was like trying to keep a boiling tea kettle from whistling. In other words, impossible. Someone would eventually take an ad out in the Prophet, celebrating the fact that Blishwick Matchmaking was not going to be defunct in thirty years like originally prophesied. As much as he loved the thought of the family business continuing, he already knew Jimmie wouldn't want to do it. Forcing her into it now was pointless. He already hated how excited the thought had made him moments earlier. "How about I pretend it's me that's got it then? There's no way to run tests on such a thing, so I'll just tell him what you told me and I'll work with him to figure out what it could be."

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[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

jan 2026

THOUGH JIMMIE HAD AGONISED OVER HER strange ability for months, it didn't seem half as insurmountable under her father's wing. She found herself slowly relaxing back against his arm, though her hands were still clutched up near her chest as she thought of all the ways her problem might be fixed. Perhaps a potion, or a binding spell. Something to lock it away. These were all ideas she thought of on her own, she dare not suggest it to her dad just yet. Not while he was glowing with curious pride.

"Do you think..." Jimmie cringed as she thought it, the idea a crawling and humiliating thing. "Am I the first?" She asked, have known the probable answer for some time. There was a reason a Blishwick's firstborn son was so celebrated. The carrier of a very special, very particular gene. Jimmie had never, in all her research and years, heard of a single female with the ability to weave love. It was a singular male phenomenon. It was why she had been something of the families outcast. The 'non-viable heir'. Until she wasn't, but Jimmie wasn't even certain if her own rendition of the ability counted.

"That could work." Jimmie agreed, looking up at her cheerful father with such stern seriousness. "It's in the contract, you know." She muttered, feeling a little silly as she did. "You can't tell anybody it's me." She turned her face away, relaxing her hands very slowly on top of the table. "Thanks," She muttered after a while, turning to wrap her dad in a very brief, very reluctant hug. "I don't know why it took me so long to tell you." She said into the lapel of his finely tailored suit. "I guess I was just embarrassed." 

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[jimbo brian blishwick vi]

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There was a possibility that this sudden unset of the ability was a mutation of sorts, first for the reason that it finally afflicted Jimmie, but also because of the way it manifested. The hard rule that it only happened to first born sons was really only because each Jimbo thus far had been the the first born. That was something that had stood to be tested, and here they were now. The lateness of it definitely confused him but Jimbo also knew it wouldn't be so farfetched if he brought up her ability as his own when it came to taking to his father. Magic was funny like that. If spells and potions could adapt and change over time, then why couldn't their own family's magical ability? He'd make it work until Jimmie felt confident enough to tell everyone else herself, if that ever happened. Knowing her, she'd keep it under strict lock and key for the rest of her life. In his own opinion, hiding such a thing would do more harm than good, especially since it had already gotten to this point.

"That I'm aware of. But that doesn't mean it hasn't happened," he explained. "I guess it still follows the first born though..." he mused happily, knowing that it was probably the last thing his daughter wanted to hear right now. Especially when she was bringing up the contract again. Jimbo knew he'd have to review that one again a few times to make sure he didn't break any of it. That would be unredeemable in her eyes.

The hug was certainly the weirdest thing about it all, especially being in public. When was the last time she'd done that? Jimbo had come to realize that it was 'embarrassing', and most kids were like that for a period of years. Maybe doubly so because of who he was. Embarrassing wasn't in his vocabulary, much to Jimmie's dismay, he was sure. "I imagine it's scary. Seeing things isn't normal even for our kind, but I don't think there is any inherent harm in it." Easing her mind was all he could do at this point, at least until they figured out what exactly was going on.

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[Jameson Hera Blishwick]

no care in the world.

jan 2026

THE ANXIETY AND TENSION THAT HAD HAUNTED Jimmie for months seemed trivial in retrospect. Her father was a born professional, after all. Though he had an unending enthusiasm for everything that often exhausted Jimmie, she had forgotten how composed he was under pressure. The perfect poker face. She had envied it as she'd grown, attempting to emulate how unaffected he could appear under fire. Jimmie, in comparison, had a face that could often be read like a book. Though she tried valiantly to defy it.

"I just..." Jimmie cleared her throat, her fingers tapping restlessly on the table top. "I guess I just assumed because I wasn't a boy..." She shrugged like it hadn't mattered. As if her whole life wasn't a complete disappointment for every elder Blishwick who still roamed the earth. How her mere existence had broken a historical tradition and marred the 'good name' for all who followed. Never mind how she'd vowed never to have a child of her own just to spite them. Now, she had fallen in line in the oddest way possible. She hated it.

The hug was brief, completely unlike her as a young adult. She'd stopped hugging her dad around the same time she had insisted upon travelling by herself to platform 9 3/4. Too 'grown up' to need such childish comforts, but it felt nice to give in just for a moment. Her dad's calm demeanour soothing, like a balm on her bubbling anxiety. Increased by proximity. "Right," She nodded, pulling away and sitting in place. "There's no harm." She echoed, as if to affirm it all in her mind. Straightening her shirt and curling her hair around her ears as she settled, giving him a soft smile as she did - like a child pleased by parent. Everything was going to be okay, because he'd said so.

[END JIMMIE]

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