#// he knows she along with the rest of the Wizarding World will soon come to hate him completely and he isn't ready for it yet

[starwrittenfates]

@spellwrites said: ❛ I'm tired of pretending everything's okay when it's clearly not. ❜ --(for Severus) Imogen's about had it with Dumbledore keeping secrets from the Order (ex: wtf happened to his hand????) and now he's giving Severus the DADA position when everyone knows they only last a year??? People have died from that job! Why does Dumbledore think you won't be around next year!??

He wishes he could tell her everything, but he knows he can't. It's all part of the plan, after all, and important that no one knows. At least no one except for Dumbledore and himself. It still doesn't make this easy though. Severus has lost sleep completely over knowing what he must achieve at the end of this year, and between it and trying to make sure Draco Malfoy is safe and fulfulling his end of the Unbreakable Vow, it's all too much for him.

He doesn't want to do this anymore...but he has to remember his purpose for doing this--his reason. Her. Lily. It was ALWAYS her. But maybe it is about a bit more too...like protecting all the innocent people who will soon be caught up in all that is to come. People like Imogen.

Letting out a frustrated, but also painful sigh, already starting to become a pro at the lies he will have mutter and survive by. "I don't know what else to tell you. Life has it's ups and down, and it isn't fair, but after all the incompetent DADA professor's this school has had, perhaps the headmaster has seen the light and decided to finally give into my request for the role of being the DADA professor," he knew it was mostly because it's his reward for the task he will have to do by the end of this.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Can I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, and Halsin being jealous of some guy is flirting with their female s/o although she's oblivious that he's flirting with her? He's so possessive that he even took her back home to have a heated make-out while holding her close!

Astarion

ThE pLaN wAs SiMpLe. All jokes about Astarions' cut scene aside, he simply tried not to like you.

He tried not to notice your smile, laugh, or radiant personality that felt like the sun.

He fell, though, and you were everything to him, but he was afraid to lose you. To push you too far, you to abandon him like all others.

He tried oh so hard not to think about how that tieflings stupid tail was getting dangerously close to you.

You were so naive and unique, so headstrong but so so clueless. How could you spot an ambush a yard away but couldn't tell this creature was hitting on you.

Astarion chose the safe route of just sitting there and watching like always.

A burning fire lit within him, the usual cold tempered vampire became lit with something. Jealousy? No, it couldn't be.

Then that damn tail wrapped around your leg; why, just why couldn't you be simple? Why couldn't he just not care who you sleep with?

Before he knew it, he stood before you, the tiefling behind him. Why?

He turned on his charm, and before he knew it, he was wooing the Tiefling, convincing him to go on his married way in hopes of bedding another.

Astarion looked at you as the tiefling left, and the fear of losing something so good ate at him. Gripping your arm, he took off as quickly as a fox through the forest you close behind.

Once safely away from prying eyes where he could be vulnerable, show you how much he cared and how scared he was of losing you, and he kissed you deeply.

You two had bedded in the forest many times before, but today, your connection was so passionately different.

Gale

Gale liked to imagine he was a simple man who didn't need much, especially after all that happened with Mystra.

That was until you came along, with your well everything; Gale couldn't find anything to hate about you.

The fear of messing up again and entering a new world of troubles ate him alive—almost as bad as the orb resting in his heart.

That's why anyone getting close to you, even a fraction of romance hinted or thrown your way, killed him.

He knew his place, though. Trying to woo a woman got him into the mess he is in now, so he just stood by and watched as people flirted with you.

Every instance though filled him up like a bottle, soon the pressure was going to explode but he didn't know how to inform you of this.

That night at Sharess Caress, though, when the twins propositioned you, the bottle overflowed.

Gale couldn't handle the pressure building or how you just laughed at the twins even though he could tell you were uncomfortable by their touch.

Before he knew it, he pulled you into him and used his ability to travel the astral plane to escape.

You were his and his alone to look at, adore, and love. No outside force or group could take you. Here, he ravaged you all night and early in the morning.

From that day on, Gale never hesitated to steal you away to his private hiding place to show you his more jealous side.

Halsin

Halsin was one with nature, so sharing with you wasn't horrible.

He knew that people would come and go, but he would be your one rock, always present and always there.

That made this evening at camp so much more confusing for him.

Halsin knew the wizard, vampire, and legend were all seeking your companionship, especially since they all brought it up to him before this month.

However, watching them flirt with you repeatedly, you just accepting the advances and taunts ate at him a little.

Halsin tried to go on nature walks, work with the land, and even speak to the great oak father about this; however, he turned up blank.

Tonight at camp was exceptionally hard. Though you had turned down Wyll and Gale, you never quite turned down Astarion. Halsin didn't know why this tore him up.

As the vampire asked you to take your life force once again, Halsin grew irate. You were simply too oblivious to realize this was an addictive habit, so you always stayed by the cold man's side.

Anger consumed him, and Halsin went to your side. Grabbing your hand and dragging you along, Halsin allowed nature to take its course.

Once you two stopped in the middle of a clearing, Halsin sighed. "Oak father's blessing, I know I always said nature can take its course, but Petal, I do not think I can stand this any longer. Let's just stay us, me, you, and no one else."

Once his profession came to light and you agreed, no questions asked, Halsin couldn't wait to enjoy the combination of you two as one. Oak Father's blessing on you both.

[zerogutzz]

yeah im going all in

Bunch of insane lore rambles under the cut LMFAO

During the GOLB invasion, the veil between worlds became it's THINNEST. The world Max came from already had dimensional rift problems, it's the very things she was set out to study along with whatever happened to come out of them.

As we all know, Sadness attracts Madness, never did Max think that a rift would pull her in. A good 12-15 years is where she ended up getting spat back out after GOLB fused with Betty and fucked off.

She was lost for 3 months. Zero human contact. Only dangers and monsters and the occasional talking animal to point her to the human city.

She DOES eventually end up making it, stumbling on to the small ferry and falling flat in to the city. These citizens were humans, yes, but Golb knows that these aren't the same humans she's used to. They're all strange, wear strange clothes, and say strange phrases she only barely understands. You can imagine the wave of astonishment and relief she felt coming up on a giant sign that read "20TH CENTURY MAN IN HIS NATURAL HABITAT"

She's from the 22nd century, but goddamn if it wasn't close enough.

Following the curious crowd, an older gentleman stood in a dollhouse-like enclosure that mimicked that of an old fashioned home, decorated in familiar items and décor. The future-humans took their turns asking very.. Dumb. Questions. Most of the time repeating the same one in different ways. For some reason they're very focused on the different lamps. It was increasingly obvious that the gentleman acting as the 20th century man was just about ready to lose it if another comment was made about how light 'bulbs' are supposed to be pronounced light 'balls.'

"Excuse me." Max spoke up over the crowd. Simon glanced over at her from between his pinched nose bridge, pausing. It looked almost as if his shoulders relaxed. The way Max presented herself was something he hasn't seen in a very, very, very long time. Familiar clothes, cadence, and energy. "Could I talk to you, um, whenever you're done touring your.. Museum." Max asked. She was trying her very best not to make it sound urgent, despite the desperation she felt in her chest. "Oh, no, yes of course." Simon stumbled over his answer, nodding quickly. "We could talk now, if you'd like. It wouldn't hurt to close early."

The other people in group either huffed, rolled their eyes, or wandered off at the suggestion. Simon rubbed at the back of his neck, motioning Max to come inside. "Walls down." There was brief confusion, but it subsided as soon as the walls to the enclosure closed down like garage doors. Simon sighed heavily, turning to the new face in town with a tired smile. "What was it that you wanted to talk about, miss..?"

"Maxine Stronghold." Habit took over, flashing her detective badge and pocketing it in a single motion. That put the man on edge, his smile faltering. "Ah, you're not in trouble. That.. Sorry. Old habit. I was actually just here to ask if you actually were from the 20th century?" He perked back up. "Wha, why, yes. Are you not familiar with- Oh, my goodness I never actually introduced myself." Max's thick brow quirked up at him, his hand extending to her form. "Simon Petrikov. I, ah, used to be the Ice King. Difficult to imagine, I know, but rest assured-"

The increasingly confused look on the woman's face brought him to a stop. "... Sorry, did I say something wrong?"

"No." She answered slowly. "I just .. Um. I don't know where I am. Or how I got here. Or how there are wizards and talking food. I haven't had any genuine human contact in months. I was kind of hoping you'd be able to help me."

A moment of silence befell the two of them. A growing realization creeped on to Simon's face, putting his hand over his mouth and mumbling, "Oh my God." before putting a hand on her shoulder to have her sit down.

"Tell me everything."

[skyberia]

[Knocking on ur door] hi I’m interested in nephos. What’s this abt a death curse?

[SLAMS THE DOOR OPEN] hiii omg [GRABS YOU BY THE COLLARS] GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW

so, for starters, their general Tragic Backstory goes something like:

néphos was born cursed, or was cursed really shortly after birth.

their parents abandoned them basically immediately after they were born, presumably because they didn't want to deal with a Literal Cursed Child (or maybe because they had something to do with it…?)

by the time he was found by another person, he was nearly completely overtaken by this curse, his body almost entirely covered in these dark marks shaped like tendrils.

luckily the person who found him was a good samaritan-- a kind old halfling cleric who took them in and decided to try her best to help them, whatever the cost.

she couldn't find a way to dispel the curse through the usual means. hard to when you don't even know what the hell you're dealing with, she's never seen anything like this before

it's obvious that she's running out of time though, and that if something wasn't done soon they'd die. so she did the only thing she could think to do, which was buy them time.

ultimately she managed to take the curse and "isolate" it to his left eye, rendering it blind and darkened, but effectively slowing down its progress and making it so he could at least have a proper chance at living!

however doing this took a Lot out of her, basically seeping her of nearly all of her energy and magic and rendering her really weak and sickly as a result.

she managed to care for and raise them for a few years, but when they were a child still she became too ill to continue doing so and had to be taken for basically permanent care at a local house of healing, leaving them to fend for themselves in the streets.

thankfully what she did was pretty effective, making it so the worst they had to deal with (curse wise. they still had a pretty rough time in other aspects) for the first like two decades of their life was weird looks and a lack of depth perception.

but then one day he looks in the mirror and finds dark marks coming out of their left eye, reminding them that all that was done was just a measure to Slow Down the progress of the curse, and that he's still bound to succumb to it someday soon...

he tries to look for cures, goes to every curse specialist he can find, then to whatever expert cleric or wizard that's around, and none of them can even tell him what the curse even is. nobody's ever seen anything like it, and so obviously nobody has any fucking clue how to get rid of it!

so eventually they just give up. accept the fact that their lifespan is going to be significantly shorter than most other elves, that they're going to suffer a horrible and unknown fate at some point, and decide to just make the most out of whatever time they do have left

and that's it :) that's their whole deal. he then spends the rest of his days in baldur's gate fucking around and narrowly escaping finding out, placing bets on what'll get to him first the authorities or the curse, Except that's not what happens at all and instead they get abducted by mind flayers and get a tadpole inserted in their brain, and when they next manage a glimpse in the mirror Oh! Lol! the curse's suddenly spreading a lot faster than before huh! but they can't spend too long worrying about that because they suddenly have a bunch of new friends with a lot of problems and issues that are more pressing than his own and on top of that the world's falling apart and they're the only ones who can save it and Oh, uh, he just nearly died in combat and somehow that made the marks from the curse worse, and it's kind of starting to react weirdly with his lightning magic? and-- hey, you know now that you mention it, his whole life he just went along with this story his mother figure told him about his origins but the more he thinks about it the more holes he finds in it and it starts making less and less sense, and ha ha haa haaaaaaaa

(insert the whole companion questline i made up for them here. in order to not keep both of us here all day and also immediately contradict all the information i just gave you and overcomplicate everything, the really short version is: the woman he thought saved his life lied. Among other things)

anyway. Some other general things about them:

their full name is néphos huan

they're 54 years old

they don't know this but they're like elf mixed-race. their father was a sun elf, and their mother was a drow. he gets the red eyes (...eye...) and grey hair (and the penchant for ruthlessness, probably) from his mom.

their "job" pre-events essentially consisted of them seeking out people with issues and offering to help sort them out, for a price. Usually a quite high one.

he has a sort of reputation around baldur's gate as someone who can "solve any problem with a snap of their fingers!" because of this, which kind of makes him sound like a djinni. he is not. it just turns out that a lot of problems can be solved by frying whoever's causing them with a concentrated lightning storm lol

they're really reckless. i cannot understate this. At every turn they will see something that has a high chance of killing them (but that has some potential reward) and they will run straight at it. This was already a problem before but the tadpole makes it SO much worse

he's a real "what's in it for me?"/"where's my reward?" type bitch. refuses to do anything without knowledge that there will be some type of compensation for him at the end. This is a fine attitude to have and definitely doesn't have consequences that carry over to his personal relationships making them more difficult than they should otherwise be

i could go on for ages longer abt their general dynamics with the other characters and also their fake companion quest and so on but i will . leave it here for now. Thank you for asking. i love you

[wildlife4life]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @devirnis @exhuastedpigeon @daffi-990 @wikiangela @lover-of-mine @hippolotamus @jeeyuns and @disasterbuckdiaz. You are all so amazing and I cannot wait for all your works! Thank you!

I haven't really worked on any of the fics I dropped on tease bit tuesday, so I went into the vault of wips I have and pulled out the first buddie fic I ever started, buddie/911 in the Once Upon a Time verse. It was posted for a bit on ao3 but recently took it down because I wasn't all that happy with was posted and not having a sense of direction to take it in. But I'm looking back over it, and editing, adding. So I'm sharing a bit of it with ya'll today, test the waters really and see if its something I should keep working on. Hope you enjoy!

Once upon a time….

24 years ago, in the land of Misthaven, a cloud of dark magic thundered across the lands towards the Kingdom of Camelot. At the helm of a large round table sat Sir Robert, the kingdom’s noblest knight.  To his left was his beloved and soon to be wife, Queen Athena who cradled her two children to her chest. But no fear be felled her demure. No great evil could ever shake her resolve and it could be said for many of those that sat at the round table. Many who whose entire attention was on the enterically designed wardrobe that stood in the middle of the table. 

“Are we sure this is what needs to be done?” asked Howard the Hatter.

Sir Robert clenched his fist tight at the tables edge, “The dark curse is among us and there is nothing we can do to stop it.  All that is left is to secure the prince’s future.”

To his right, the great wizard Merlin nodded in agreement, “The magic of this wardrobe is powerful enough to send little Evan far away from his mother’s curse.  We must trust that the one with belief will return him home.”

“And what of the rest of us?” King Michael spoke what many were thinking.

Merlin looked to the man who held his very heart, “I’m sorry my love, but I do not have those answers.  I cannot see past the curse itself and the dark one won’t share his secrets.  We can only hope, and that in itself is powerful enough to see us through.”

The King of Camelot nodded and took the wizards hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

The rest of those around the table conceded with King Michael and Sir Robert took a deep breath, “Bring them in Henrietta.”

The warrior that stood at the opposite of the knight, dipped her head before turning and opening the large wooden doors.  “Princess Maddie, come along.”

A small girl no older than 10 with curling brown hair and wide brown eyes, slowly made her way into the room.  In her arms she carried a very small boy, just on the cusp of turning one.  Blonde curls sat atop his head and framed eyes as blue as the ocean.  But his most distinguishing feature was the pink mark along his left brow.  Many believed it was the mark of his prophesized power, that it told the world of the golden heart that rested within him.  The golden heart that would one day break any and all curses.

Maddie clutched her little brother tight to her chest, her lower lip trembling, “She’s coming for him again. The Evil Queen is coming for Evan.”

Sir Robert looked at the young girl he considered his own and tried to hold his tears, “We do not know why your mother has sent this curse, only that she intends to take the entire land with it and your brother is meant to save us all.”

“He’s just a baby!” the princess spits angrily, making the prince stir in her arms before Maddie quickly composed herself and soothed him with soft shushes.

Isabel, the eldest and wisest among the group rose to her feet, “No child should have the world on their shoulders and all we can hope is that you and Evan can be free of burden until the time comes.”

Tears streamed down Maddie’s face, “How do I do that when only I will know?”

Behind the little princess came a glowing blue light that grew brighter and larger before dwindling out to reveal a dark-skinned woman in a flowing blue dress and shimmery wings.  “Tell him our tales, instill the belief. But most important, love him.  Love Prince Evan as you do now.” The blue fairy answered before bending down and giving the two children a gentle hug.

Maddie returned the embrace with one arm then stepped and faced Sir Robert, “Will I ever see you again?”

The brave knight let one tear roll down his cheek as he gave the princess a sad smile, “We can only hope.”

The thunder of the curse rumbled in the silence and lower in the castle, the sound of battle rung out.  Their time was up.

Princess Maddie climbed atop the table and stepped towards the wardrobe.  Above the noise of battle and magic, the Blue Fairy’s soft lilt rang out, “The last child born to a queen of sorrow shall be given a heart of gold.  His heart alone can save those who are cursed.”

“And on the child’s 25th birthday, he shall return to those who have left, led by the one who has belief.” Merlin finished as the young girl sat within the wardrobe.

“Be safe and have hope.” Athena stated firmly then watched with the rest of those at the round table as the wardrobe was closed and the doors to the room burst open.

“It’s over.” The Evil Queen proclaimed stepping inside with the cloud of cursed magic behind her.

“What will happen to us?” Sir Roberts asked.

The Evil Queen cackled, “The worst imaginable.”

Then darkness.

Alright, I know its a lot, but this is basically the prelude to the whole story. If anyone wants an indication of who is who, just let me know I can drop a list of characters and their identities from the fairy tail world. Hope you enjoyed! (Also Captainswan stan! Its true love ya'll!)

Tagging (no pressure!): @bekkachaos @hoodie-buck @theotherbuckley @ladydorian05 @prosperdemeter2 @spotsandsocks @malewifediaz @elvensorceress @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @watchyourbuck @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @loserdiaz @spaceprincessem @thekristen999 @lizzybizzyzzz @homerforsure @sibylsleaves @spagheddiediaz @try-set-me-on-fire @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @eowon @honestlydarkprincess @911onabc @911-on-abc @cowboydiazes @vampbuckley @brokenribsdiaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @arthursdent @glorious-spoon @buddierights @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @gayhoediaz @gayedmundodiaz

[gudfornuthin]

Beauty and the Beast

Chapter one

Bill Weasley x reader

Summary: After being attacked by a werewolf many years ago, Bill Weasley goes into hiding, away from the outside world. When a young girl goes in search for her father, she finds the place he’s been kept prisoner. And the person keeping him there. How will she gain the trust of this beast, and what happens when feelings start to show?

A/N: Heyyyy😅 so I haven’t updated this in like two months but I’m currently writing a book that took up a lot of time and I lost track. Either way, thank you to everyone showing support for the prologue! These first couple of chapters are going to be slow burn, mainly just until the reader meets Bill. Feedback is appreciated, let me know if you want to be tagged in upcoming chapters :) I now also have tipping if anyone wants to show support that way too❤️

Elmbrook was a quiet village, tucked away from all the hustle and bustle of city life. Everyone knew everyone, and if you ever needed a helping hand, there wouldn’t be one too far away. The people were happy, doing the same routine every day, never interfering with the world outside of their small place they called home.

That’s why the young girl currently running through the streets receives strange looks. Y/N was the girls name. And she’s odd. Odd being compared to everyone else in the village. She was always seen sprinting from one place to another, her clothes disheveled and her eyes blown wide. She didn’t work the typical nine to five, rather choosing to work alongside her father and his ‘discoveries’ in magic. That was another reason for being seen as odd. Her father. He was convinced there was such things as witches and wizards out there somewhere, and he dedicated all his time and effort into proving that right. So far no luck. But he would keep searching, and his daughter followed by his side.

Y/N trips over uneven pathways several times, before finally arriving at her destination. ‘The Book Nook’. Her favourite shop, along with the one person (besides her father) who doesn’t judge her for being her. She walks into the shop, spotting the shop owner in question, leaning precariously against a ladder and reaching for a book on the top shelf.

“Good morning Mrs Figg!”

The small woman yelps, gripping the ladder and stopping herself from falling backwards. She turns and sees the young girl. “Dear lord Y/N, you scared me half to death!”

She slowly makes her way down onto safe ground, swatting at Y/N’s arm as she passes her smiling figure.

“I was wondering if you had the latest edition of Magic for Muppets,” she asks.

Mrs Figg rolls her eyes. “Your father couldn’t come and pick it up himself?” She waddles into the back room, and returns soon after with the bright red book in her hands. She never judged the family for their interest in the magical world. Mrs Figg herself dabbled in it sometimes. However, she never bothered stocking many of these books or similar in her store, considering the rest of the people in the area spat at the idea of something mystical or supernatural out there. But she would always buy in specifically for Y/N and her father. She liked their equal childlike wonder. And sometimes she hoped they would actually find some real magic, someday.

Y/N takes the book and holds it close to her chest. “You know what father is like. Once he’s in his research, he’s in deep. I’m sure he’ll pop by next month for the next edition.”

They both say their goodbyes, and Y/N strolls out of the shop, ready to make some lunch once she returns home. Before she has the chance to walk a step further onto the path, she’s knocked slightly by a strong, tall figure. The person quickly grabs her arms, stopping her from toppling over completely. The book however, ends up thrown into a puddle, now sopping wet.

“Sorry, my love. Didn’t see you there.”

The voice sends chills down her spine. Looking up, she comes face to face with dark eyes and sharp teeth, shown through a smug smile.

“Hello Fenrir. It’s quite alright.”

She brushes him off, and rushes to the book, hoping to salvage what’s left of the damp pages. It’s thankfully not completely ruined, as Y/N takes a handkerchief from inside her sleeve and cleans off the water. Hands with sharp nails yoink the book out of her hold, as Fenrir grimaces at it.

“‘Magic for Muppets’? What on God’s green earth has possessed you to read this absolute drivel?”

Y/N snatches the book from the large man, beginning her short walk back home. “It isn’t drivel, this is interesting information about something my father and I have a shared interest in. Considering it’s title, you may even be able to understand what’s written inside.”

Fenrir jumps in front of her, standing much too close for her liking. “You think insulting the man whom you are to be betrothed to is wise?”

Y/N holds her ground, taking one step closer and almost rising on her tippy toes. “We are not a couple, and I will never be your betrothed.”

She pushes his chest hard, not moving him much, but enough to step around him and make her way down the road. Fenrir watches on, an animalistic snarl on his face.

“Mark my words, I will make Y/N my wife.”

————

Y/N finally makes her way back home, closing the door behind her and huffing a sigh of relief. This wasn’t the first time she’s had to deal with Fenrir and his incessant attempts to woo her. While he’s never been overly aggressive towards her, his appearances have become more frequent and more intense. She knows he believes that soon enough she’ll end up breaking and giving in to him, but Y/N will never let that happen. This wasn’t true love. This was power and control over a woman Fenrir thought he had the right to own.

The girl walks further into the house, calling out to her father. She checks his office space, full of papers stacked high, and sketches of weird looking creatures taped to the walls. These things her father would frequently see in his dreams. They were very detailed. One of what appeared to be a platypus, surrounded by gold coins and jewellery. Another one, bright pink and very fluffy. Y/N sometimes told her father that he should write a story about these creatures. He would respond with a gruff tone, telling her that they aren’t just simply things made for storytelling. They were real, even if he didn’t have proof.

She keeps calling for her father, until steps are heard patting down the stairs. He appears with a wide smile, as well as a big bag and a long coat covering him. “Ah, Y/N! So glad I caught you before I left.”

He rushes around, grabbing food from the fridge and his gloves off the table. He’s talking to himself, something about proving everyone wrong and making sure he has the correct supplies. Y/N barely has any time to compute what’s going on.

“Father, are we going somewhere?”

He stops his frantic antics for a second, shaking his head. “Not we, my dear. Just me. I need you to hold the fort while I’m away.”

“Away where? Father what is it?”

He grabs a scarf off the coat hanger, and takes his daughter in his arms, holding her tight. “I found them.”

“Them?”

He moves back and nods. “Them! The things I’ve been seeing in my dreams. When I went strolling in the woods this morning, a gleam of yellow caught my eye. When I reached for it, a small clawed hand grabbed it before I could. It was too fast for me to catch, but I saw it. Dark fur, long snout, beady eyes. It’s that strange platypus. And i need to find it.”

He kisses Y/N on the forehead and strides to the door, walking outside with his daughter close behind.

“How can you be so sure? Maybe it was a worse for wear raccoon or a really big rat.”

Her father turns and looks at his daughter, the happiest he’d ever looked in quite some time. “I’m willing to take that risk.” He continues walking, yelling the rest over his shoulder. “I’ll be back in a couple of days, my dear. I’ll soon show all of them how right we were.”

Y/N crosses her arms, a small smile creeping onto her lips. She truly hopes this time her father is right. As for now, she’ll just have to wait.

———

Tags: @timetruthhearts-moony @ohantonia @k-k-merlin @nessa3nessa @m-rae23 @kcloveswrestling @bamboozledflamplant @marvgrrl @worldswithoutendings (apologies as some tags didn’t work)

[oldestenemy]

The wizard is glad they are sent to Cyrus when things have settled. That again, he is the one who knows anything of the world they are seeking, out of everyone.

“I want you to seek out an old…friend of mine.” He explains the bones of their quest—find Ivan the Great, have him aid in finding Baba Yaga, convince her to help with Bartleby’s ailment—and it feels painfully simple. But they know better. It will not remain so.

“Polaris lies at the very edge of the Spiral—on the horizon as it were—Where land meets sky, where the worlds fall off into the endless expanse of the in-between. Why it would cause Bartleby to fall ill, I cannot begin to fathom. But if there are answers to be found in Polaris, you would be the one to find them.”

The spiral key for Polaris looks like a little three pronged lamp-post. Silvery and shining faintly.

They are going to need to invest in a bigger keyring soon…

Before going, a note of importance.

“I know the others have it handled, but—”

“—Rest assured I will keep eyes and ears out for Mr. Grimwater.” Cyrus finishes before they get the words out. It offers a relief the wizard can barely explain. They cannot shake the feeling that there is a wrongness to his disappearance, a danger around it.

“Thank you. Really.” They force themself not to add for everything.

They have been trying harder to make their interactions with other people feel less final.

It’s hard.

But they’re trying.

Penny and Malorn are standing by Bartleby waiting for them.

It’s not going to be like the last time.

There is urgency here, yes, but they are not sprinting forward after their own demise.

“Be careful,” Penny urges as soon as they are in earshot.

“I will be,” the wizard responds, “this—this won’t be as bad as the other worlds I’ve been to in the last year. In and out.” Maybe if they speak that into existence it will become true. Probably not.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Malorn says, “if you need us, or need a break—if you can get one—I’ll be here or in Dragonspyre.”

“I’m going back to Marleybone for a while to visit my parents,” Penny adds, “but promise if something happens—”

“—You’ll be the first to know.” The wizard assures her.

It’s a lie.

They are going to keep these things as far from the others as they can manage.

This is the first time they’ve walked through Bartleby in…a very long time. It looks different. Leaves falling and wilting in every corner, autumn colors invade upon the green, not vibrant but sickly and muted. They try not to think that it’s helping. The fact that it has changed within the chamber means it is not throwing them so distinctly back into the moments after Azteca.

The door opens onto a chill, onto the distinct smell of snow.

“Ahem!”

A…penguin?

A…French penguin.

The inhabitants of the spiral never cease to be interesting at least.

Sometimes their memories from Earth have use here. But why anyone would decide for penguins to be French—especially in a locale that seems more like tsarist Russia—they don’t particularly have time to dwell on. The only reason it’s familiar at all is because they had been fixated on that animated movie about a missing Russian princess for several years of their young childhood. They can almost hear the music as they walk through the streets.

Routine falls into place.

Maybe it’s the fact that prior to this they were involved in an outright war, but the fighting here seems almost trivial. Before they know it, they are wrapped up in a revolution, throwing fish into the harbor, following Red Rosa to whatever she needs.

And then they are assisting a polar bear in dancing a ballet—and gods that movie just keeps coming back to pester them doesn’t it—but it feels good to be doing something that isn’t…dueling. Somewhere along the line one of the Patriôtes had handed the wizard a saber that was now functioning as their wand—something they haven’t really done since Avalon, and before that Dragonspyre—it makes the battles a bit visceral for their tastes, especially when they are not yet sure of their purpose here.

Find Ivan.

This does prove to be fairly straightforward, and following him through his aid to the Patriôtes and their rebellion is both easy and—a little entertaining. There is an element of joy that underlies every act of resistance, and Ivan’s intensity in battle has them missing Dyvim. But like everyone, they leave him when the time comes. Walking into the cold expansive woods alone in search of Baba Yaga.

An eerie silence permeates this part of the forest. It is as though all the wildlife were holding its breath.

Raven is loud here, near as loud as she is in Grizzleheim.

The wizard ignores her. They have been doing so for months now, still angry for Nidavellir, for her dragging Malorn and the other necromancers into problems that did not need to be theirs. But they never went back to see her, they meant to at least try and get answers about Lorcan—

But then Duncan went missing, and now this.

It doesn’t matter.

Grandmother Raven is not going anywhere.

They can go and shout themself hoarse at her perch whenever the mood strikes.

What the wizard does find in this silent clearing of the wood, is a girl.

A human girl.

Which—under many circumstances shouldn’t be considered strange, but the only other human they’ve seen in Polaris thus far is Rasputin. It’s not often they run into people who aren’t also some kind of creature. Though on closer inspection, perhaps this girl is some kind of creature. There are inky black feathers shifting in her hair that look as though they sprout straight from her scalp along with it.

Later they learn the girl—Mellori—is Baba Yaga’s daughter. Given that the witch herself lives inside a house with chicken legs, Mellori’s feathered hair no longer strikes them as surprising. Nor does her immediate act of following them to the Auroracle. Mellori reminds them of their younger self. Hungry for adventure and mystery.

The wizard isn’t sure yet if that is a welcome comfort, or a bad omen for their new friend’s future.

Read the whole series here <3

[braveclementine]

Chapter 5

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (However they are very few so those under the age of 18 can still read a majority of this book. However please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

💙💙💙💙

𝕴 𝖜𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖚𝖕 around dusk, Ginny shaking me. "Come on!" She said.

I got up and brushed out my hair and came back to where the others were standing and stretching outside. There were thousands of waiting wizards and all pretenses of being Muggles were gone.

It seemed as though the Ministry had given up trying to hide the magical components. Salesmen were apparating every couple of feet with trays, bags, and carts of magical items and merchandise. There were items with the green colors of Ireland and the red colors of Bulgaria. There were scarves and dancing shamrocks and washable tattoos and face paint and rosettes and collectible figures that would walk across your palm.

Trang was in love. I'd given her about 200 Galleons which was leftover from the shopping trip where I'd bought her broom. Pretty soon, she had all Ireland things. All seven Quidditch player figurines, a rosette, a scarf, and multiple other things.

I got both seeker's figurines from both teams. I had an Ireland scarf and Trang helped put an Irish flag tattoo on my left cheek.

I bought her and I Omnioculars and two programs before we met up with the others, completely decked out. Trang quickly put her figures back in her bag in the tent, zipping it closed as though she thought they were going to escape. (Maybe they would). I set my figurines up on the bedside table.

Bill, Charlie, and Ginny were wearing Green Rosettes and Mr. Weasley had an Irish flag. Since Fred and George had no souvenirs because they'd given Bagman all their gold, I got each of them a Rosette too, helping Fred pin his rosette onto his shirt, while Bill and Charlie shot us glances.

There was a deep, booming gong from somewhere beyond the woods and green and red lanterns blazed to life in the trees, lighting a path to the field. Trang was so excited, she was bouncing up and down on her toes and couldn't stand still.

"It's time!" Mr. Weasley said and he looked nearly as excited as the rest of us, though he kept it in better check than we did. "Come on, let's go!"

We walked briskly along the path, clutching our souvenirs tightly. My Omnioculars were around my neck and my program and wand were in my pocket. My scarf was also around my neck, both ends hanging loosely down my chest.

I couldn't stop grinning, and neither could anyone else. That's what an exciting atmosphere does to you. We walked for twenty minutes. There were snatches of singing and shouting in vast languages.

Finally, we came to a gigantic stadium made of gold walls. Or perhaps it was just bronze painted and shining to look like gold. Trang's mouth dropped and she said, "I wish I had a camera."

"Don't worry." I said, grinning and clapping her on the shoulder, "I don't think you are ever going to forget tonight."

"Seats a hundred thousand." Mr. Weasley called back to us. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again. . . bless them."

"I'll be able to get in, won't I?" Trang asked in alarm.

"Oh yeah." I said, though I wasn't sure if it was true or not. "You know about the magical world and have already been exposed to it." But I held my breath until we entered the stadium and Trang came through with no problems.

"I will admit," She started, "I've never seen a football stadium- American football- that is this big."

"Told you we have the best sport." I said smugly.

We were in the top box which meant we were to go as high as possible. The stairs were carpeted in royal purple and Trang practically squealed with delight. We kept climbing and climbing. I wondered mildly how many floors the stadium had- 10? 50? 100?

Either way, we finally found ourselves on the very top floor and when I looked down, I quickly backed up from the edge. We were higher than the Quidditch hoops which were fifty feet in the air. Perhaps were were seventy-five feet in the air then.

The giant blackboard was level with us and gold writing kept dashing across it and wiping off again. Trang watched in fascination at all the ads that popped up. Bluebottle brooms, Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess, Gladrags Wizardwear, and more.

Trang leaned over to me and said, "When I grow up, I'm going to become a full fledge witch, clothes and all."

I smiled but didn't say anything. She'd never be able to be a witch. She could brew potions, sure, but she could never drink them. She'd also never cast a spell with a wand. Or could she? If she used enough willpower, could she do a simple spell? I pondered over this for a moment. If that was the case though, we wouldn't have squibs, but still. . .

I shook my head to clear my unhappy thoughts. She could be a Professor teaching Muggle studies. She could even work in the ministry as a Muggle representative. But that was about it. And she didn't want to be a Muggle, she wanted to be a witch.

"Dobby?" I heard Harry say incredulously. Hermione, Ron, and I all turned to look and see who Harry was talking too.

It was a tiny creature that I recognized as a House-Elf. I had met Dobby before and knew that this house-elf wasn't Dobby. It had enormous brown eyes instead of green ones and had a nose like a tomato.

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" The house-elf squeaked, her face hidden behind her hands. I realized she was scared of heights. Mr. Weasley looked around in interest.

"Sorry." Harry said quickly. "I just thought you were someone I knew."

"But I knows Dobby too, sir! My name is Winky , sir- and you, sir- You is surely Harry Potter!" She said, her large tennis ball like eyes even larger. Except, unlike Dobby, her eyes were brown.

"Yeah, I am." Harry said, turning a bit pink. Trang was looking now too, coming face to face with her first magical creature that could talk (unless you counted gnomes vulgar language).

"But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!" She said and lowered her hands, looking a bit awestruck to meet him.

"How is he? How's freedom suiting him?"

"Ah, sir, ah sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favor, sir, when you is setting him free." She said sadly, shaking her large head.

"Free?" Trang whispered at me.

I raised my hand to shush her.

"Why?" Harry asked, a bit alarm, "What's wrong with him?"

"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir. Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."

"Why not?"

She lowered her voice so low, Trang, Hermione, and I all leaned forward to hear her say, "He is wanting paying for his work, sir."

"Paying?" Harry asked with a blank look. "Well- why shouldn't he be paid?"

Winky looked horrified and closed her fingers so that her face was hidden. "House-elves is not paid sir! No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin." She squeaked.

"Well it's about time he had a bit of fun." Harry said with a smile. I looked on with a serious expression. There was an empty chair next to Winky and I observed it carefully, titling my head just slightly. It looked as though someone was sitting there, yes a bit of a black shoe moving back under the cloak! I looked up, an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach.

"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter. House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter, but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir." Winky said, gulping as she looked down.

"Why's he sent you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Master- master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter. He is very busy. Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house-elf."

"But Mr. Crouch won't be coming up at all." I said, in confusion, frowning, trying to pick out the lie.

Winky gave me a frightened look and I gave the empty seat another look, so sure that someone was in the seat.

I turned away.

Trang nudged me and asked about what Winky was talking about.

"House-elves are servants of wizarding families." I said. "It's in their generation and blood to serve until the last member dies or until a member sets them free. The way they are set free is by giving them clothes. Most house-elves actually love their work and they love their families and their families almost nearly love them as well. Kind've like a pet, you see. Of course, sometimes there are horrible families and house-elves that want to escape like Dobby."

Trang frowned, looking uncomfortable. "So even though they're slaves. . . they like it?"

"Yes." I said. "It does sound weird, I know, and as a Muggle, the concept is hard." I paused and tried to figure out the framing of my next words, "Most house-elves actually think it a punishment if they're set free."

"Really?" Trang seemed amazed at this concept.

I nodded, "There's been cases where the family frees an elf, whether they don't want the elf anymore or because the elf failed them in some way etc. where house-elves will actually die of shock."

Trang looked even more amazed.

Hermione meanwhile, was reading from her pamphlet saying, "A display from the team mascots will precede the match."

"Oh that's always worth watching." Mr. Weasley said. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."

We had been the first in our box and over the next half hour or so, the box started to slowly fill up.

There were many important wizards filling the thirty or so seats up here. Mr. Weasley was shaking hands left and right and Percy kept sitting down and jumping up he looked like an old cartoon animation.

The Minister of Magic came up and Percy actually bowed, which made his glasses fall off and shatter. He fixed them himself and sat down, embarrassed and threw jealous looks at Harry who Fudge greeted like a grandson. He asked him how his summer had been and introduced him to the many wizards around him.

"Harry Potter, you know. Harry Potter. . . oh come on now, you know who he is. . . the boy who survived you-know-who. . . you do know who he is-" Fudge seemed to be trying to explain English to the Bulgarian minister. He was wearing splendid robes of black velvet with gold trimming.

The Bulgarian wizard suddenly started pointing at Harry's forehead and gibbering loudly in another language.

"Knew we'd get there in the end." Fudge said wearily to Harry. "I'm no great shakes at languages; I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat. . . Good job too, these Bulgarian bludgers have been trying to cadge all the best places. . . ah, Miss Kane, good to see you too." The minister said, coming over and shaking my hand as well. "And how was your summer."

"It was good, how was yours? Busy I expect?" I asked politely. Minister Fudge wasn't my favorite person but being recognized by the Minister of Magic was a big deal nevertheless. But I still held a grudge against him for trying to separate my father and I last year.

"Extremely busy. I suppose you already know what's happening at Hogwarts this year?" He asked with a weary sigh.

I smiled. "Foresaw it about a week and a half ago. I also know who's going to win tonight but I won't spoil that."

"Surely you made a bet then?" Fudge asked, smiling.

I shook my head. "I don't gamble."

"Well you should." Fudge said, almost incredulously, and then said, "This is the Bulgarian Minister. Minister, this is Elizabeth Kane, she's a seer."

I blushed and shook hands with the Bulgarian minister and said in rough Bulgarian, "Znam, che znaesh angliĭski." (Знам, че знаеш английски) [I know you speak English]

The Bulgarian Minister gave me a look of surprise and I winked at him. He smiled and I put a finger to my lips.

Fudge wasn't paying attention to our interaction as he had his back to us and then said, "Ah, and here's Lucius."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I spun around to see Lucius Malfoy, his son Draco, and a woman who must've been his mother coming up the stairs.

Draco was Harry's enemy and my arch-nemesis (yes, there is a difference. An enemy is someone you hate. An arch-nemesis is someone you fight all the time and tried to destroy). I grabbed Trang's arm, drawing her partially behind me. Draco, a pale boy with no color complexion and white-blond hair was walking up behind his father. Some of the girls at Hogwarts thought he was hot. I could see there point. He was thin and tall and and not exactly ugly.

His father's blond hair was about shoulder length, perhaps a few inches longer. It was parted neatly and his robes were black and neat. His mother, I thought, was a very pretty woman with half black, half blond hair- obviously dyed- with a nice face and thin eyebrows, but she looked as though she was smelling something bad. Maybe it was her husband's cologne.

"Ah, Fudge." Mr. Malfoy said, holding out his hand. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" Fudge said, smiling and bowing slightly to Mrs. Malfoy. "and allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk- Obalonsk- Mr.- well he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else- you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

The two men stared at each other for a moment and my grip on Trang's hand tightened. I suppose I expected them to break out in a brawl at that moment.

"Good lord, Arthur." He whispered softly, glancing down at all of us. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much."

I let go of Trang's hand, my hands balling up into fists.

"Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest." Fudge said, not listening.

Mr. Weasley said, "How- how nice," while Trang whispered in my ear, "This is the man who's supposed to be in jail, right? Azkaban? The one who got away with the money?" I nodded a rough nod but didn't turn to look at her.

Mr. Malfoy's eyes landed on Hermione who went pink. His lips curled but she stared determinedly at him. His eyes moved over to me and they narrowed. I clenched my jaw and smirked back. I was sure he was remembering the time when I tripped him in the bookstore after his fight with Mr. Weasley.

Then his eyes flicked to Trang who was half-hidden behind me and she came out, looking at him with disgust. His expression was even more horrible for her, perhaps because she was disgusted with him. Despite the fact that I had broken one of the biggest wizarding laws letting Trang know about the magical world, Trang was a near avid rule follower. The fact that Lucius Malfoy was out of Azkaban even though he was a follower of the killer of her best friend's parents disgusted her. And since Malfoy was disgusted that she was a muggle like Hermione (or assumed she was), she was disgusted with him, a pureblood, and that annoyed him.

"Ah yes! Lucius, this is Elizabeth Kane. She's a seer." Fudge said, trying to introduce Lucius to me.

I smirked, holding out my hand, cocking an eyebrow at the man, ". . . Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy." 

Lucius slipped his large, rough hand and shook it firmly. "Yes. . . a pleasure Miss Kane." I caught a whiff of his cologne and was taken aback. He smelled. . . delicious.

Malfoy raised his cane higher up into his hands and walked past us. Draco shot Ron, Hermione, and Harry a contemptuous look and shot me a glare. I smiled, raising my eyebrows.

"Ooooh." Trang said, fists clenched, fire in her eyes. "I hate him."

"All right tiger, sit down before you get in a fight." I said. I sat back down between Hermione and Trang.

Ludo Bagman charged up the stairs and skidded to a stop and said, "Everyone ready? Minister- ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo." The Minister said, seated between the Bulgarian Minister and the Irish Minister.

Ludo pointed his wand to his throat and said "Sonorus!"

His voice echoed all over the stadium as he said, "Ladies and gentlemen... welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

There were cheers from the crowd and waving of their flags which played the national anthem of the country while being waved. The two anthems clashed but it was all part of the excitement. Trang had already forgotten her anger and was sitting on the edge of her seat in excitement. She was squinting down at the field. I reached over and tapped her Omnioculars. The blackboard now read BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce. . . the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!" Ludo announced enthusiastically.

The right-hand side of the stadiums, completely red, roared.

"I wonder what they've brought." I heard Mr. Weasley ask and then suddenly he whipped his glasses off and polished them in a hurried way and said, "Aahh! Veela!"

"What are Veela?" Trang whispered.

I giggled and said, "Enchanters of men, look!" I pointed at Mr. Weasley who was polishing his glasses and putting them on. Trang giggled too and then leaned forward to get a good look at the Veela.

I could see the beautiful aspects of them through the Omnioculars. They had smooth skin, I couldn't see a single blemish and they were very pale. Their hair was white-gold and flowed out behind them. I supposed it was probably as long as their knees maybe.

"Are they human?" Trang asked me, puzzled, her Omnioculars pressed so tightly her glasses were cutting into the bridge of her nose.

"No." I answered simply as the music started. I stared through my own Omnioculars and watched the Veela dance. The men in the stadium were starting to do really stupid things. Women were holding them back from jumping off the stadium walls. I dropped my glasses to look left and right. Charlie and Percy were both leaning over the edge, but weren't jumping yet. Mr. Weasley had an odd look on his face but he was still seated. Fred and George had fingers in their ears and Bill looked interested, but not affected.

Ron meanwhile, looked as though he might jump off his chair like a springboard at a pool. Harry on the other hand was standing up with one of his legs was on the wall. I jumped to my feet as Hermione whispered, "Harry what are you doing?"

"He thinks jumping from this box is going to impress the Veela." I said in an amused voice, pulling Harry back into his seat and slapping him across the face. He jerked as though waking from a dream.

"What was that for?" He asked. I noticed Harry's wand was poking out from his pocket. He really ought to shove it in deeper so it didn't fall out. Boys were so careless.

"You were going to do something extremely stupid." I said, going and sitting back down.

I glanced over at the other side. Bill was grinning at me and then got up and everyone scooted down so he could sit between Hermione and me. Fred shot us a glance. Charlie was still recovering from the Veela.

"Way to take control." Bill's voice was amused.

"He's like a brother to me." I said as Mr. Weasley took Ron's hat from him. "Wasn't going to let him make a fool of himself jumping off the stadium- not to mention saving him from impending death."

Bill didn't say anything else as a green and gold comet shot down towards the stadium and did one circuit around the stadium before splitting into two comets and shooting in opposite directions toward Ireland's goal post. A rainbow connected both the comets and then they exploded and rose up to make a shamrock.

Gold things started to fall from the sky. Trang pried her eyes away from the sky to turn to me and say, "Elizabeth, they're Leprechauns."

I giggled, "I can't wait until you meet a unicorn."

Trang turned back to looking at the sky. I grabbed a piece of gold out of the air. Leprechaun gold disappeared, but it was still cool.

"Charlie doesn't seem to be happy." Bill muttered suddenly.

I looked down at Charlie who quickly looked away. I frowned, "I don't know why." '

I looked at Bill and quickly away. I fancied Fred of course, but Bill was very good-looking too. I wondered if good-looking just ran in the family. I had fancied Percy for a long time as well. Not Ron though. And even though everyone got mixed up between George and Fred, there really were some differences between the two of them, making Fred more desirable than George. But really, they were both quite good looking. Yes, Ron was the only one I didn't like- romantically. I got along with Ron in a friendship. . . when he got along with Hermione.

And Bill was much different from the others. Bill had shoulder length hair like Malfoy or Snape, but it was red and lovely. His face was thin and and handsome. His earring was cool as well, and none of the other brothers had an ear piercing.

I wondered what Dad would think of Bill. I quickly pushed the thought away. Bill didn't like me and even if he did, I wouldn't hurt Fred like that.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome- the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you- Dimitrov! Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaand- Krum!" Bagman was saying.

"That's him, that's him!" Ron was saying. I looked through the Omnioculars to see the thin, dark, sallow-skinned boy. Because at seventeen he had only just become a man and the difference was amazing. He had thick eyebrows and a hooked nose and he looked a bit like a hawk or an eagle maybe. I supposed if someone asked me if he was good-looking I could say yes, but he wasn't my type and he wasn't the cutest boy I had ever met.

Yeesh, what was with me and eyeing every boy as a potential mate?

"And now," Ludo continued over the roaring approval of the Bulgarians and those supporting Bulgaria, "please greet- the Irish National Quidditch Team! Presenting- Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaand- Lynch!"

I cheered at Lynch's name. He was my favorite player on the Irish team and I had a poster of him in my bedroom. Blond, tall, thin, extremely hot. Deep forest green eyes. Bloody hell.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

Hassan Mostafa was a short skinny wizard with a bald head. However, to make up for having no hair on his head was a very large, very busy mustache. Trang giggled quietly in her seat.

"Theeeeeeey're OFF!" Bagman yelled so loudly I nearly jumped. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

The Chasers threw the Quaffle so fast that Bagman had only time to say their names before it was in the hands of another player. I wondered suddenly how Lee Jordan would've had time to make any jokes if he'd been commentating. Knowing Jordan, he would've managed.

"TROY SCORES!" Bagman declared as Troy threw the Quaffle into the hoop, the Bulgarian Keeper missed. "Ten zero to Ireland."

"What?" Harry yelled stupidly. "But Levski's got the Quaffle."

I laughed and Hermione scolded him for watching the game in slow motion.

The Irish Seekers worked as a seamless team. I wondered if any of this stuff could be implemented for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team this year. Cedric would be watching and he was our captain so. . . there wouldn't be Quidditch this year because of the tournament. . . so never mind.

The two beaters on the Bulgarian side- Volkov and Vulchanov- were whacking bludgers left and right at the Irish Chasers as they had scored twice more. Finally, Ivanova scored the first Bulgarian goal.

Harry screwed his eyes up and stuck his fingers in his ears as the Veela began to dance again. I watched him amused.

"They don't affect you?" I asked Bill.

"Oh?" Bill said, "They could if I let them, but I'm used to women trying to charm me."

I would've laughed, but instead, I rolled my eyes, tugged on a lock of his hair, and turned my head away, shaking it in amazement.

I watched the Irish Chasers again and then the whole crowd gasped as both Krum and Lynch were zooming down towards the ground. I looked through my Omnioculars, but I didn't see any snitch.

"They're going to crash!" Hermione screamed.

Krum pulled up out of the dive at the last second, making my jaw drop. I hadn't thought it possible. Lynch, to my disappointment, crashed instead. There was a huge groan from the Irish side.

"Fool! Krum was feinting!" Mr. Weasley groaned.

I sighed with disappointment. Ginny meanwhile, was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror struck. "He'll be okay, he only got ploughed, which was what Krum was after, of course." Charlie said, reassuring her. He looked up and met my eyes. I gave him a thumbs up and looked away.

How horrible! I couldn't stand it if Charlie liked me too! It'd be hard enough if it was between Bill and Fred. I didn't need Charlie involved either. Or maybe I was just being. . . was that word? Self-absorbed? Full of myself? The word was on the tip of my tongue and I couldn't grasp it! Basically thinking that every guy was into me just because they looked at me. . .vain? No, that wasn't it either. Stupid English words!

"That move was called the Wronkski Defensive Feint." I told Trang who looked horrified. She had red eyes from keeping them open to much. "Maybe you should close your eyes for a moment." I suggested.

She took of her glasses and rubbed her eyes and kept them closed until Bagman started back up the commentary. Lynch's recovery seemed to give Ireland more heart. When they began to play again, the Irish Chasers played with such skill I didn't believe it could be rivaled.

Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again and the Bulgarian keeper rushed out to meet her. I watched in slow motion for this part as he used his elbows against her chest and head and she dropped the Quaffle. Most other people didn't see the entire thing but the Irish shouted out, enraged.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing- excessive use of elbows! And- yes it's a penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns rose in the air spelling out the words HA HA HA! The Veela became angry and started to dance in a ferocious manner. The Weasley boys and Harry had all stuck their fingers in their ears, even Bill.

I pulled his fingers out his ears, giggling, and said, "Look at the referee!"

Hassan Mostafa had landed in front of the dancing Veela and was flexing his muscles and his mustache in an excited manner. Trang and I collapsed into giggles and I banged my head on Bill's shoulder and winced. Bill laughed too, though I was more certain he was laughing at me as I grabbed my head.

"Now, we can't have that!" Ludo Bagman said though he sounded on the verge of laughing himself. "Somebody slap the referee!"

A mediwizard came running across the field, fingers in his own ears and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to become extremely embarrassed and pointed off the field for the Veela. They stopped dancing, looking mutinous.

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots! Now there's something we haven't seen before. . . Oh this could turn nasty."

The two Bulgarian beaters landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing with him furiously. However, Mostafa was no longer in a good mood and kept jabbing his finger in the air. When neither beater got in the air he gave two short blasts with his whistle and the Bulgarians roared in anger.

"Two penalties for Ireland! And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms. . . yes. . . there they go. . . and Troy takes the Quaffle. . ." Bagman was saying.

Play now reached the ferocity point. Volkov and Vulchanov were at the point where they didn't care if they hit a bludger or person and were swing their bats fast and hard.

Dimitrov shot straight up at Moran who had the Quaffle and nearly knocked her off her broom though she managed to keep her hold on the broom.

"Foul!" The Irish supporters roared as one, I had roared so along with them.

"Foul!" Bagman agreed, "Dimitrov skins Moran- deliberately flying to collide there- and it's got to be another penalty- yes, there' the whistle!"

The leprechauns had risen in anger, forming a hand with the middle finger pointed upwards at the Veela. The Veela lost control of them. They launched themselves across the field, throwing fire at the leprechauns. Their faces had transformed into bird-like faces and scaly wings were bursting out of their backs.

Trang lowered her Omnioculars and stared at me in amazement and said, "I take everything I said back. I don't care how many sports Muggles have, this is the best sport there is."

I laughed. "Told you."

"And that boys." Mr. Weasley shouted so that even Harry on the far end could hear him. "Is why you should never go for looks alone!"

Trang, Hermione, Ginny, and I laughed as one. Then I muttered, "But all guys do that anyways."

Beside me, Bill laughed.

"Levski- Dimitrov- Moran- Troy- Mullet- Ivanova- Moran again- Moran- MORAN SCORES!" Bagman announced.

The Irish cheers were drowned out by the shrieks of the Veela and the Ministry wizards trying to get them under control. There were also furious roars from the Bulgarian supporters. I was bouncing up and down in my seat, the end was coming, I knew.

Quigley, the Irish Beater, swung his bat at a bludger which went zooming toward Krum. "Duck!" I shrieked, but Krum did not get out of the way in time. I gripped Bill's arm hard as the bludger hit him full in the face. I was sure that his nose was broken. I quickly let go of Bill's arm so that I could hold the Omnioculars in both hands. Despite the four-second hold on his arm, he still had nail marks imprinted there and I blushed and muttered a sorry.

However, Mostafa didn't blow the whistle for Krum to get medical attention because his broom had been lit on fire by the Veela.

I moved the glasses back up to Krum. Blood was spraying out of his nose in every direction. Bloody hell.

"Look at Lynch!" I heard Harry shout from my right.

Lynch had gone into a dive. This was the real thing. I jumped from my seat. "He's seen the snitch!" I shouted excitedly.

I could see the snitch too, a gold blur down near the bottom of the field. Krum had dove now too. I wasn't sure how he could see as blood was flying up past his face but he had managed it somehow.

"They're going to crash!" Hermione shrieked.

"No they're not!" Ron yelled.

"Lynch is!" Harry and I said together.

I watched as Lynch crashed into the ground for the second time and winced. Charlie was out of his seat too and was saying, "The Snitch, where's the snitch!" He bellowed.

"He's got it!" I screamed with delight, jumping up and down, "Krum's got the snitch."

The scoreboard now read BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170

"You guys won!" I said, turning to Fred and George, "You guys won your bet!"

Fred and George looked at each other and roared with delight, bumping fists and Fred pulled me into a tight hug.

There had been a silence in the crowd for a split second and then the Irish roared with happiness.

"IRELAND WINS!" Ludo Bagman cried a few seconds later, just as surprised as the Irish it seemed by this turn of events. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH- BUT IRELAND WINS- good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"What did he catch the snitch for?" Ron bellowed though he was jumping up and down like everyone else that Ireland had won. "He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"

"He knew they were never going to catch up!" Harry shouted back. "The Irish Chasers were too good. . . He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all. . ."

"He was very brave, wasn't he?" Hermione asked, leaning forward. Trang and her were watching the Ministry wizards blast a path through the battling leprechauns and Veela so that the mediwizards could get to Krum. Charlie and I were hugging now, completely ecstatic with Ireland's win.

"This is amazing!" Trang said, looking more at the battling creatures than the Quidditch players. The Veela were reverting back to their beautiful selves but looked dispirited and sad.

Bill picked me up now, swinging me around in a semi circle before kissing my cheek and setting me down. I stumbled for a second, putting a hand to my cheek, feeling quite red.

"Vell, ve fought bravely." A gloomy voice said behind us and we turned to see who was talking. It was the Bulgarian Minister.

"You can speak English!" Fudge said angrily. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Vell, it vos very funny." The Bulgarian minister, said shrugging and looked over at me and smiled, "You speak very good Bulgarian."

I blushed with pride as the Bulgarian minister stepped back with his fellow Bulgarians.(It was actually the only sentence I knew in Bulgarian. I'd practiced it when I saw that the Bulgarian Minister would be coming up to the box). I supposed both teams would be coming up into the Top Box.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" Bagman was saying.

My eyes were suddenly blinded by a dazzling white light. The Top Box was being magically illuminated so that everyone could see and we all quickly sat down so that we didn't get in the way.

"Let's have a round of applause for the gallant losers- Bulgaria!" Ludo said. The Bulgarian team came up the stairs and into the box. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively.

Krum came up last, looking like a real mess. He had two black eyes forming and his entire face was bloody. He was still holding the Snitch. He was slightly duck-footed on the ground and his shoulders were rounded. His eyes roved over us and then at Bagman. When his name was announced, the entire stadium- Irish and Bulgarian- roared with approval.

Then the Irish team came up the stairs. Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly. His eyes were a bit unfocused. I wished I could've asked for an autograph, but the Irish team left to do another lap around the stadium. Lynch rode on the back of Connolly's broom and I laughed. I too, wished I had a camera.

"Quietus." Bagman said, pointing his wand at his throat and climbing down from the pedestal. "They'll be talking about this one for years, a really unexpected twist, that. . . shame it couldn't have lasted longer. . . Ah yes, yes, I owe you. . . how much?" He asked as Fred and Weasley climbed over their seats to collect their money.

I walked over to where Harry was standing. I noticed his wand wasn't sticking out of his pocket anymore. I frowned. Well, perhaps he'd shoved it deeper into his pocket? I looked at where Winky was sitting, her eyes still covered and then the empty chair and pondered the invisible person. Perhaps they were sick? I bit my lip. Mr. Crouch had no wife, she'd died and I didn't think he had children. I supposed I could ask Mr. Weasley later.

I gripped the wand in my pocket as though someone might try to take it. I supposed that was a sign for something. . .

"Elizabeth, are you coming?" Trang called from down the aisle.

I jerked my head away from the empty, but not empty chair, and said, "Oh, yeah, coming." and I hurried after them, leaving the mystery behind.

⬅️➡️

[herbsnspices]

Draco x Slytherin OC✨🐍

AN ~ not sure where this will go but I thought I’d put it out there, in my world Voldy does exist but he’s not coming back anytime soon. As for Death eaters, they are dying out along with blood supremacy and all that crap. Draco is still a Brat so prepare for angst but it should be worth it? Anyway enjoy <3

Part 1?

~

Sable, 16, daughter to Wysteria and Thorn Grimsbane, they make a small but high ranking family within the wizarding world. Thorn is the head of investigations within the ministry with Wysteria as his partner, they are truly a power couple. Sable had been studying abroad at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic up until the summer of her 16th birthday, when her parents demanded her return before enrolling her into Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.

Ignoring sable's plea's they never explained their actions, simply stating it was for the best and that they would handle everything. it broke her heart saying goodbye to her friends at Beauxbatons, especially to her boyfriend, Cyran, who she'd only been able to kiss once. feeling as if her world had come to an end she was anything but excited while shopping for supplies with her mother, even the idea of fresh books and stationary wasn't enough to cheer her up.

Unfortunately it didn't take long for the dreaded day to arrive, with all her trunks packed Sable stood on the platform with a frown. holding back her tears as she hugged her parents goodbye sable made her way onto the train, it was tight as she walked along looking for an empty compartment, releasing a sigh of relief when she came across one and slipped inside.

getting comfy with her copy of Hogwarts: A History sable prepared herself for what was to come, or at least tried to.

~

Draco's pov

~

it was the same old routine of cold goodbyes and empty hellos as I stepped onto the train, my parents not staying any longer then needed. I bumped into Blaise first, he greeted me with his usual smirk and a slap on the back.

"Draco, its good to see you. we've got a compartment just up ahead if you'd care to join? kindly grace us with your presence" he teased while rolling his eyes.

"I suppose I could" I replied with smirk, the two of us chuckling together as I followed him to the compartment. thankfully the corridor was empty of students as we walked down, the rooms on either side of us however were full of them. glancing into them as I passed one caught my eye, slowing me to a stop, this compartment empty compared to the rest.

she was pale, with smooth skin dotted with freckles. Her Black hair looked like silk as it draped around her in loose curls, her eyes a bright green as they concentrated on the book before her. she was dressed in smart attire and had an air of maturity about her as she sat with a straight back and her legs crossed, she looked like a Lady.

"Draco?"

looking up Blaise was stood a couple of compartments ahead, the door open and waiting. Risking one last glance I was surprised to see a pair of emeralds gazing back at me, a question clear within them. looking away I headed into the compartment and took a seat between the window and Theo, Blaise was opposite me with pansy next to him. the journey was usually long and tedious but it seemed to fly by as I gazed out the window, thoughts of the girl filling my mind.

We lived in confusing times, never knowing if Voldemort would return or not, but if I knew anything for certain, it was that i’d have her before the year was up.

~

Sable's pov

~

I had no idea who the blonde was but he was certainly easy on the eyes with his sharp features and lean but muscular build, the all black suit he wore was just the cherry on top. sadly he was gone as quick as he appeared but I'm sure I'll be seeing more of him, he looked to be about my age if not the year above.

finally taking a break from reading and checking my watch I noticed it wouldn't be long till we arrived at Hogwarts and I still needed to change, cursing myself I grabbed my small carry on case and headed out the compartment and to the toilet.

the uniform was plain black awaiting my house colours but the shirt, pleated skirt and robes were certainly different to the silk dress I was used to. Choosing to keep on my tights and long socks I dressed myself in the uniform, overall it wasn't so bad. After packing away my clothes and switching my shoes I quickly touched up my hair and make-up before swiftly exiting the cramped room, walking straight into someone's chest.

the strong scent of musk and cherry wafted over me as I looked up, two swirling pools of chocolate looking down at me.

"well hello there" his voice was deep and smooth, like velvet.

"hello" my reply was meek and breathy, my surprise evident.

"hmm no house colours, you've got to be the biggest first year I've ever seen" he spoke with a smirk and a teasing tone, he seemed like the mischievous type. glancing at his uniform the dark green suited him nicely, the snake emblem resting on his chest.

"sadly no, I'm transferring into sixth year. You're a Slytherin right?" I replied, nodding at his uniform.

"indeed I am, best house to be in. I'm also going into sixth year so ill be seeing more of you misss?" he asked while giving me a once over, a look of approval on his face.

"Sable" I said, my eyebrow quirking at his obvious staring.

"Im Blaise, its been a pleasure Sable but you should head back to your compartment, we'll be arriving soon. ill be seeing you" he greeted while placing a small kiss on the back of my hand, his goodbye ominous as he left with a wink.

heading back into my compartment I got my belongings together and watched anxiously as we came to a stop, students flooding off the train and towards carriages. merging into the flow I stepped off and over to a large friendly looking man holding a sign with my name scribbled on it.

"hello there, ye must be sable?" he asked with a large grin

"hello, yes" I replied with a smile, nodding my head.

"follow me, you'll ride and be sorted along with the first years" nodding along I climbed into the boat with him, watching in awe as we made our way over the water and towards the beautiful castle.

it felt strange standing amongst the first years, towering above them as they looked at me with curiosity. Entering the great hall was daunting due to the hundreds of eyes watching my every move, whispers erupting as I walked towards the front of the room. the headmaster Dumbledore explained that i would be joining the sixth year before calling me up.

"Sable Grimsbane"

holding my head high like I was taught I stepped up and sat on the stool, Professor McGonagall placing the sorting hat on my head.

"hmm a Grimsbane, we haven't had one of you in a while. You value wisdom over valour like Ravenclaw, and yet you're fearlessness befits a Gryffindor. you're cunning like a Slytherin but care like a Hufflepuff, where to put you...suppose it better be SLYTHERIN"

~

~

Taglist?

[sergeant-spoons]

130. This December

Verity/Victor Rich

Taglist: @thoughpoppiesblow​ @chaosklutz​ @wexhappyxfew​ @50svibes​ @tvserie-s-world​ @adamantiumdragonfly​ @ask-you-what-sir​ @whovian45810​ @brokennerdalert​ @holdingforgeneralhugs​ @claire-bear-1218​ @heirsoflilith​ @itswormtrain​ @actualtrashpanda​ @wtrpxrks​

And so the time has come at last for the final chapter of IDOC. It has been a remarkable journey over the last 20 months writing this fic. I will forever be grateful to the readers I’ve seen come, go, and stay, to the commenters whose kind words I’ve screenshotted time and time again to boost my spirits on a tough day, and most especially to my friends in this fandom who have encouraged me to write - @chaosklutz​ @tvserie-s-world​ @itswormtrain​ @penguinated​ @thoughpoppiesblow​ @wexhappyxfew​ @50svibes​ @actualtrashpanda​​ and @phoenixes-and-wizards​, I love you all so very much. 💕 P.S. Most of these folks ^^ are writers too - go check out their works!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An Alton Autumn always seemed to skip through the season. Leaves changed and fell so rapidly that half the trees had gone bare before October was up. September had started to cool the air, and now the time had come for zip-up jackets and corduroy pants, for wool sweaters and shin-high socks. Little by little, Verity adjusted to life back home. Her father poking his head through her bedroom door to wish her goodnight no longer startled her. Her breathing became easier as time went by. The aches in her chest that wracked her senses and shot sparks through her vision whenever she sat up too quickly or turned her torso too far slowly began to fade. She got her old job at the flower shop back, mostly stocking flowers of the red and orange variety and ferns of the deep green, plus a few mini pumpkins to boot. The manila folder in her bedroom sat dormant more often than not, for the poetry that used to pour from her pen like a river carving its way across a landscape ripe for creation now evaded her. She knew perfectly well why the going was so slow—writing about anything but the war seemed insignificant now—but knowing why didn't much help her solve how. Besides, she'd promised Shifty she wouldn't write about the war. So she stewed, stumped, and let the folder be.

She called Perry just as frequently as Perry called her, which could be anything from twice a day to twice a week—it all depended on when Perry could find a spare minute. She'd been busy as a bee the moment she set foot in California. For a while, she'd had trouble finding work thanks to the invasive press coverage of her family's ongoing lawsuit, but in time a local newspaper gave her a chance, and now they called her the best secretary they'd ever had. A little more courageous in a position of steady employment, Perry braved the witness stand not once or twice but four times throughout October. Halfway through the month, she was thrilled to report to Verity that she'd heard from Buck Compton, and the news was as good as it could get. Buck had gone into law school as soon as he'd come home to California and was doing well. From what he'd told her, Perry guessed that he had figured her and Joe Toye out when Toye got hit but never mentioned it to a soul. When he saw the Blommes' court case in the papers along with a photo of Perry and her father standing on either side of Clyde's wheelchair, Buck recognized her and the pieces finally clicked. He called the next day and offered Perry his help with any legal challenges or issues the army might force upon them after the war. Verity cried a little to hear the kindness had been extended to them both.

For quite some time, Verity didn't understand how Buck could have possibly known about her. She guessed at first that Perry had let it slip, but Perry swore she never had, and Verity was never inclined to disbelieve her. A few years down the road, Lt. Lipton—who never failed to check up on Verity every few months for the rest of his life—let slip that he knew the answer. Buck had realized about Verity right before they entered the Bois Jacques (the one time Verity had let her hair grow a little too long) but Lip had sworn him to secrecy. Buck never said a damn word about the matter, not after the war, not even at the reunions where half the men would forget and wonder why Eugene Roe's girl looked exceptionally like Victor's twin. Verity never forgot his sure heart. She swore to herself that if Buck ever needed help with anything at all, she'd be there. Many years down the line, she would keep that promise, coaching his wife through her second childbirth in the backseat of Buck's car as they fought their way through L.A. traffic. Perry and Joe made it to the hospital before they did—

But Perry and Joe weren't always in California. There was a time when a country's worth of land and longing still separated them. Neither knew what their future held nor if the other would want a place in it.

It was three days after Halloween when Joe Toye finally took the leap.

"We won, Red!" Perry shouted tearfully into the phone, and Verity jumped for joy, accidentally hitting her elbow on the kitchen counter. "We won the case! Clyde's safe!"

"That's wonderful!" Verity managed to get out, gripping her elbow and wincing. "Oh, Perry, that's amazing."

"Isn't it?" Perry giggled and sniffled with charged elation. "Oh, and Clyde says hello and thanks for the baseball cap. He loves it."

"I'm glad. Should keep his face out of the sun when he's playing on the court."

"He wears it every day. Where'd you find that basketball pattern anyway?"

Verity cracked a smile, leaning around the partition to see her father dozing in his armchair in the living room. He'd gone to seven different stores in three different cities to find that pattern for Clyde.

"Just a little something Pa picked up while he was out and about one day."

"Well, tell him thanks, from me and Clyde both."

"I will."

A beat.

"Verity?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"'Course, you can."

"Okay."

Perry considered, and Verity settled her excitement, sensing the tone shift in the conversation.

"It's- Well, it's about Joe."

Verity's smile crept back up into being.

"Go on."

"I got a letter from him yesterday. I'm gonna write him back as soon as I can get myself to sit down for longer than ten minutes—aw, to hell with it. You know just as well as I do that I'm in love with him."

"I do."

"It seems simple enough-"

"Mhmm."

"-but is it, though?"

Perry sighed.

"I love him, but I don't know what to do about it."

"Him, of course," Verity teased, and she could picture the red blossoming on Perry's cheeks as her friend gasped a laugh.

"Verity Miranda Rich!"

"Sorry. I couldn't resist. But really, here's what you do—you tell him." Verity wound the cord around her finger, smiling faintly as she remembered that first time she told Gene she loved him. "You tell him, and you let him know you want to be with him if he'll have you. Which he will."

"You think so?"

"Yes, because he loves you, too."

"He does?"

"He calls you Lovely Summer, doesn't he?"

She could almost hear Perry smiling.

"Yeah, he does. He, um... He called me that in the letter. Five times. I counted."

Verity's lips tugged up at the corners, and she leaned against the wall, balancing the receiver on her shoulder.

"Then have a little faith, Perry—he loves you, too."

They talked a little more about this and that, and then Perry hung up to write that hopeful reply. Verity hadn't even gotten the phone back on its hook when it started to ring again, and when she checked her watch, she realized it was already two in the afternoon. David Webster was right on time. He and Verity had taken up the habit of calling almost as often as they wrote as soon as they'd both settled in back home. Accordingly, their spoken and written messages often crossed, and every few weeks, Verity would receive a letter with information Web had conveyed two days ago on a call and had changed since. It was good to hear he'd taken up sailing again and begun saving up for a bigger ship. So far, he'd gone out on the Atlantic six times since his return to Massachusetts and invited her to come with him someday. The academic year at Harvard was already in full swing, but Web was planning to re-enroll and complete his degree the following Autumn. Verity made him promise to send her a copy of his notes every now and again so she could learn a little something, too.

A postcard from Austria arrived on the same day as Perry's fourth and final time on the witness stand, a little over a month after Verity had come back to Alton. Though she hadn't expected any sort of missive from Major Winters, she hadn't known she'd needed to hear from him until she did. His note was brief but heartwarming, conveying that he'd be home by Christmas, that she was welcome to visit at any time, and most importantly, that she could rely on him even out of the service. She supposed he'd sent the same to every Easy veteran, but that only served to make the sentiment seem ever the kinder. Best of all was the note tacked on to the bottom, scribbled in minute handwriting far messier than Winters' but still fairly legible—an addition solely for Verity. All it said was "same here", but it took a kind of pinching weight off Verity's chest she hadn't even realized was still there. She hadn't been sure where she and Captain Nixon stood. Now she had relief; now she had closure.

Bill Guarnere called out of the blue a week into November. He and Verity talked and laughed and caught up for several hours, then several more once he got Babe Heffron on the line. Verity asked if Heffron had heard from Perry, and he told her they'd been writing. He and Bill knew about her by now, from the newspaper clipping she'd sent him, but they both seemed to have taken it well, once they got over the shock. Babe had settled the facts with himself far quicker than Bill, who started reeling all over again when Verity told him she'd known about Perry all along. Thinking it the wiser decision, Verity didn't correct them when they called her 'Victor' and teased her about still not having a girl of her own. When Bill asked about Perry and Joe Toye, her two cents were simply that it was "about time".

"I'll say," Babe said. "It all makes sense now, don't it? The way they'd look at each other."

"I still can't square it with meself," Bill laughed. "That kid's as much a dame in my head as you are, Rich."

Verity laughed a little harder than she probably should have, but Bill just roared along, and even Babe chuckled a bit.

"You'd better visit," Bill urged her, "you and Bloom. Together, if ya can."

"We will. Maybe sometime after Christmas, yeah? I've still got a few things to settle up here at home-" Including puzzling out how to tell you the truth without causing you to shortcircuit. "-but I'll call Perry and see if her and I can work something out."

"'Her'," Bill marveled, clucking his tongue. "Jesus. 'Her'."

"Don't think about it too hard, Bill," Verity said gravely, "you'll give yourself a headache."

"Hey-"

The next few weeks passed by without much incident. It was nice to have a bit of peace like that. The first time Verity went out by herself was right after Thanksgiving to get a wreath from the local Christmas tree farm. She took a hammer to the front door and tapped the nail into the same hole they'd used for the past twenty-some years, then adjusted the wreath until it no longer looked quite so crooked. The wreath was nice, and the Riches thought it was enough, wordlessly deciding against a tree. Maybe next year, they thought as they passed by the living room, looking at the empty window-side corner where, once upon a time, twinkling lights gleamed against the shadows and an angel's cloth halo brushed the ceiling. Verity hardly remembered the sight. They hadn't put up a Christmas tree since the year her mother passed away. Maybe next year, and their eyes made empty promises and their hands patted shoulders a little stiffer than before.

After she put up the wreath and it started to sink in that Winter was on its way, Verity took to occupying her every spare minute with some task or preoccupation. She sent a letter to Joe Liebgott right before Chanukah to wish him a happy holiday and to see if he'd settled in alright back in California. She knew Perry had been to see him once, but her friend had been oddly reticent about Lieb, and Verity had been nursing a walnut of worry in her chest ever since. All she wanted to hear was that Liebgott was doing fine—well, even—and she'd be satisfied. If he wasn't, then perhaps a trip to California was in her near future. She'd been dying to see Perry, after all, and Liebgott, whether he knew it or not, had stood by Verity's side when she needed it the most. She would be hard-pressed indeed to let distance interfere with the loyalty she owed him in return. It was almost funny, how she'd consider buying a ticket cross-country when just three or four years ago, she never would have imagined traveling outside the Northeast. Now she was ready to hop a train to Oakland at a moment's notice—and all it took to get her there was a war.

Her letter to Lieb was far from the only correspondence she cooked up that early December. Most afternoons, Verity could be found fiddling with paper, pens, felt, and glue, crafting Christmas cards for her friends from Easy. Once she finished her list and leaned back in her chair to examine it, she was surprised and humbled to realize just how long it was. She even penned a snowflake-adorned note to Captain Speirs, who was still somewhere out in Europe, continuing his career with the Airborne. Though she had her doubts about the card's timely arrival, she knew Winters would know how to reach Speirs (whereas she did not) and so sent the card through him. The rest, she could address herself. Nearly fifty cards went out over the course of a week, each personalized to its recipient, some more so than others, and for every single card she sent, she received one in return, and then some. She even heard from Floyd Talbert, who (rumor had it) had gone all but radio silent since his return to the States, and Smokey Gordon, who was finally able to write her back from that letter she'd sent him from Austria last May. He enclosed a copy of his latest villanelle, asking her advice on its rhythm and rhyme schemes, and in doing so began a lifelong correspondence between two kindred poets.

The first card to arrive bore Gene's return address, and it showed up the same day she put her card to him in the mail. He must have been thinking about her to have sent it so early. She couldn't help that fluttery feeling in her chest as she ran her thumb over his endearments and well wishes, wondering how his handwriting could be so pretty and fine. They wrote so often already, but this card felt different, in a way—he'd drawn a little dove in the margins of the card, and in its beak was a ribbon tied around a ring. She knew a promise when she saw one. He still wanted to marry her, and that was the best Christmas gift she could have asked for.

The next few cards came from Winters, Webster, Lipton, and Frank Perconte, all linked to Verity by the same time zone and postal service. The Southerners were quick to follow, with Shifty and Popeye sending a sweet and simple angel-adorned note while Bull's triple-folded memo included a dozen signatures from his whole family, including his fiancée Vera and Vera's parents. Babe and Bill sent theirs together, and Verity got a laugh out of how they'd stuffed three different cards into the envelope as if they'd squabbled so much about which to send that they'd resorted to making no decision at all. Then the West Coasters converged on the Riches' mailbox all at once, starting with Malarkey, all the way out in Astoria. Liebgott was next, and though Verity was surprised at how peculiarly thick the envelope seemed, she understood once she saw the four-page folded letter he'd enclosed with the card. It was his response to her how-do-you-do, and though Verity couldn't be more pleased to hear he was doing well for himself, when he asked her to come and visit if she could "get away from fucking work"—even in his letters, he couldn't help but cuss—she knew she'd be off to buy a railway ticket just as soon as the holiday rates went down.

But no card—besides Gene's—could bring Verity greater joy than that of Perry and Joe Toye's, whose signatures sat side-by-side under a flurry of well-wishes. Verity placed that lovely card, its cover a vision of a snow-blanketed steam train puffing through a starry night, right in the center of the mantel, packed in with all the others. By the 16th of the month, the windy day that blew George Luz into town, that mantel appeared to have sprouted a veritable forest of cardstock pines.

George had been planning his visit for months. He came prepared with a suitcase and a broad, unfailing smile, and Verity could not have picked a better war buddy to be the first to meet her father. They hit it off, especially once they discovered they both loved to work with their hands. George had resumed his handyman's work upon return to Rhode Island and was perfectly satisfied with his career; Nicholas, though retired, was still an avid leatherworker. He came this close to giving George a fully-stocked tool chest before their guest politely let slip that he (unsurprisingly) had his very own. Then they got into a conversation comparing wrench and socket manufacturers and Verity started to wonder if she'd ever get a minute to talk to George herself. Her father was quick to notice her antsiness, however, and refused to keep them any longer from their reunion.

That first day, Verity kept touching George's arm or shoulder or ruffling his hair in teasing, half because she'd missed him so dearly and half to make sure he was actually here, telling her all his old jokes and talking to her like he'd known her—the actual her—for years. He brought his Christmas card to give her in person, partly because he was good like that and partly because he wanted to see her reaction to the terrible tinsel-themed joke he wrote on the inside flap. They were light and happy and glad, but there was still snow on the ground outside, glaring frosty and unforgiving in the sunshine. Verity and George stayed indoors most of the week. The one time they went and stayed out was to ice-skate on frozen Lake Winnipesaukee on Verity's twenty-fourth birthday, and after that, they bundled up in blankets and cupped hot cocoa mugs so tight they almost burned their fingers.

It was no secret among the veterans still in contact that Winter was proving difficult for most of Easy who served in Bastogne. Verity bore the added weight of her mother having passed away just a few days after Christmas. Twenty-one years ago this December, she and her father had laid Marguerite Rich to rest in that hillside plot in the only cemetery in town. The only thing Verity remembered from the funeral was how it had begun to snow, white flakes peppering the casket as they lowered it into the earth. She took George to see the headstone, and if he cried an icy tear or two as he knelt there, let into a facet of her past not even Gene knew much about, she pretended not to see. They walked close together, shielding each other against the snow and ice delicately painting the lakeside landscape, already mumbling promises to see each other again once the frost had broken and the forest was green again. So Winter was not easy, but they made do with each other and a warm house to get back to at the early end of the day.

There was one thing Verity wanted in particular to show George but was too nervous to bring it up until the day before his leaving. Right before her friend's arrival, she'd had a breakthrough with her poetry. She'd realized one sleepless night, staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom as visions of the rolling flowering fields of Holland swept through her head, that if she put aside the war years, she'd be ignoring the greatest emotional period of her life. She didn't have to write about the war part of the war. She could write about the parts that were good, the parts she'd look back on and smile because she was there with her friends and she was important and loved and protected. When she settled it with herself that she wouldn't be breaking her promise to Shifty after all—that's what set her in motion. She barely slept that night. When her father came in and found her on the carpet the next morning (again), he was pleasantly surprised to discover her surrounded by dozens of penned pages and an ink stain that had bled into the bottom hem of her sleep shirt.

She showed those poems to George, tucked neatly into their manila folder as she passed them over a dropped-egg-on-toast breakfast table. She could barely eat another bite, tapping her foot under the table in her anxiety, and as George flipped through the loose leaf sheets, she watched the minutia of his expression for any sign of his opinion. To her utter relief, he seemed to like her work, and when he told her how impressed he was, she turned several shades of pink. He insisted that she send him an autographed copy of the collection once she'd had it published; with a new sense of purpose blossoming in her chest, she humbly promised she would.

George left for Rhode Island on the morning of Christmas Eve, wanting to be with his family for the holidays. Verity hugged him goodbye and didn't care how obvious she made it that she didn't much want him to go. He kissed the top of her head in the kind of brotherly fashion that made her heart ache for the siblings she might have had if cancer hadn't taken her mother so soon, and when he waved goodbye, leaning out the train window despite the freezing morning, she watched him until the train was gone, leaving trees and empty tracks and Verity behind.

The morning of the 31st was growing late when the Riches' doorbell chimed through their home. Verity and her father had taken to the kitchen, making peppermint cookies and preparing to stay up until midnight. Bing Crosby crooned "Jingle Bells" from the radio in the living room, almost drowning out the I'll get it that Verity called over her shoulder as she swept past the archway. She wiped her hands off on her apron, its grey stripes now dotted with sticky red candy cane residue and clingy white flour. She paused in the foyer to tug it off and tossed it onto the little bench they kept to help her father put on his shoes, curiosity getting the better of her neatness. Then she opened the door and there he was, cracking that slow, content smile she didn't think she'd ever get to see like this, silhouetted by the snow and a thick beige scarf.

They'd discussed him visiting, playing with dates, but none sooner than Springtime next year. And yet, here he was, promises on paper fulfilled as he stood before her. There was a small rose in the buttonhole of his jacket. Verity wasn't sure if he meant to impress her or her father but didn't much care because he was here, on her doorstep in Alton, his eyes wide and wet with emotion.

"Gene," was all she could manage in a gasp before she simply had to throw herself into his arms.

They stayed like that for some time, just standing on the porch, breathing in the moment. The cold pressing on their lungs felt insignificant now that they had each other again. Footsteps came up behind them, followed by a chuckle.

"I think I could probably guess our company, but if you wouldn't mind the interruption..."

Verity slowly stepped back but did not let go of Gene. She kept his hand in her own, and having him there, at her side, was just so right that she nearly started to cry. Gene brushed away a stray tear of his own and she squeezed his hand, a smile growing on her lips as she looked between her beloved and her father.

"Pa," she said, breathing in deep the frosty air, "I'd like you to meet Eugene."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[selfdiagnosedeyemotif]

Chapter Three (Tyrri), pt. 1:

Hey did you think Cunningsworth is a big city? Get ready for Whitecrux

Sitting pretty at the very centre of the Hearthlands, this thing is a metropolis

It’s very much in the same vein as Cunningsworth though: lots of back alleys that make for a much better path to the university than the main roads

Additionally, there’s some kind of really dumb roadblock on the main road. The stupider the better.

Tyrri makes it through the back alleys with little issue before reaching the university, and sitting in the highest tower is Headmaster Tasslemore

He’s a much older man than Professor Elber, much more classic wizard-looking (rather than Elber who was wearing basically just a tweed jacket, this game exists around the same time as OT2 because suits in a fantasy setting are fun)

He asks to see the water samples, and after a little bit of looking, comes to two conclusions

One: the non-elemental magic in the water appears to be biological in origin

Two: the filaments that make up the crystals very closely mimic the muscles in the heart

He says that he’s going to take the rest of the day to look further into it so he can draft up a preliminary report, and sends Tyrri away

He isn’t very fun. Not that I care.

The road is still blocked so Tyrri takes the back alleys again

Something bad finally happens to the university student walking alone in alleys as a pair of people try to steal her messenger bag (which has all of her notes and equipment)

Fight ensues, the two assailants are notably casters

After thoroughly trouncing the duo, Tyrri demands to know why they would go after a research student of all people

She’s broke as hell and her equipment matches that

They explain that they’re independent researchers and are just completely starved for gear

Why not go to the university? They look around that age and it would be a crime to make schooling so unaffordable that people straight-up couldn’t take courses

Like, no one would be awful enough to not at least have a basics course at a cheaper price

Well you’re not gonna believe this but

The duo leave her alone after it becomes clear that they’re no match for her

Tyrri is NOT sleeping good that night. Something something her black-and-white view of the world being challenged by the idea that a person who helped her being bad actually

In spite of the fact that she was supposed to go bright and early to head to the university she returns back to the place the duo almost mugged her because what they said is messing her up

She returns to find them in the same place and starts talking things out

Their names are Willie and Dante, they’re brothers, and their parents moved to the Hearthlands from the Deltalands in hope of better education for their sons

 The University of Whitecrux, in addition to its many other descriptors, is also hellishly expensive to get into

Tyrri is pissed but refuses to explain why, stares at a wall silently for a bit, and then says that she’s going to go beat the everliving shit out of the headmaster

Willie and Dante are free to tag along and do so gladly

As the three march into the university, a guard spots them

“INTRUDER ALERT. THOSE DAMN KIDS ARE BACK.”

“Guys what did you do.”

“Yeah we may or may not have tried to pull the same trick we did on you, on the university.”

With that delightful bit of dumbassery that most certainly should have been brought up beforehand, we jump into…

The Third (technically second) Dungeon: University of Whitecrux

You’d think that you already explored here but you’re WRONG

The first time Tyrri came here it jumped to a cutscene as soon as you opened the door and cut straight to her entering the headmaster’s office (jokes about it being too many stairs for her 4’11” twig frame ensue, she SMALL)

The enemies here are exclusively elementals paired with a single spellcaster, and armoured guards

Why does a university have armoured guards on its payroll? Don’t ask me. Ask the headmaster.

It’s fairly linear, just heading up and up towards the top of the tower

Definitely lots of hidden goodies to find like in Professor Elber’s office; there are going to be side quests here later on

Tyrri continues her streak of having real shitty dungeons because I truly have nothing to say about this

It’s a university with a bigass tower on it. What else do you want me to tell you.

Opening the doors to the headmaster’s office once more, a verbal spat breaks out

Headmaster Tasslemore demands to know why Tyrri would do this, Tyrri can easily explain as much

She was a street kid growing up, but she was able to scrounge and save enough from an early age and get schooling, work her ass off for scholarships, and get into the University of Cunningsworth (UoC is like. The Qamarian standard for how expensive a university should be. Its still too high but its closer to reasonable than THIS)

It was a truly awful time and she wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, even if they had tried to rob her the day before (quick glance back at Willie and Dante)

Headmaster Tasslemore. Does not like that. He does not like that the preliminary report he had drafted up had been for one of those rats

The natural thing to do? Throw it out the window. One of the siblings is thankfully able to intercept him before he can do that but some magic-enhanced keep away ensues

The room steam with rage on both sides, we leap into…

[thekingofthenameless]

Since you sent me, I shall send in return!

Blorbos? Tell me about them if you wish!

YES

Okay. Technically he’s my own creation. But DR!Merlin is definitely my blorbo! I’ve made posts about his redesign (which I need to update) and characterization, so now it’s time for backstory!

Well, some of it. The meme I made definitely still applies, but I can, at the least, now tell you about his birth and his sister! :D

So obviously, Emerald Embers spoilers, but there are a lot of dark subjects ahead.

TW/CW for: rape, mentions of genocide, murder, and child death.

In the year 5,650 B.C., Adhan, a mortal human, is raped by a cambion. Merlin is born nine months later as a result.

It was an attempt to bring the Anti-Christ into the world, and as the first human wizard, Merlin was supposed to be. His magic surfaces as a baby, because a demon’s magic is very powerful.

Being half-demon also gave him exceptional intelligence, and it first shows through his eyes. His eyes are a muddy color when he’s born, but as he gets older, and his blue eyes become clearer, intelligence shines in them.

(At two years old he speaks very eloquently, and he’s already beginning to act like an adult in a child’s body.)

Adhan falls in love and marries his stepfather, also a normal human, about a year after his birth.

Three months later, she gets pregnant.

One day, Adhan and Merlin are sitting in their family home. She’s rocking him, and he’s falling asleep. But then a noise coming from his mother’s stomach startles him awake. She’s very confused by what noise he could be talking about, but they eventually figure out that he was hearing a heartbeat from her unborn baby.

His sister, Ganieda is born, and when he sees her for the first time, he gets a gut feeling that she isn’t like him. He’s confused, because he doesn’t know why she isn’t, and he’s sad, because he thought she would be like him.

But he loves her, and when she grows old enough, she loves her big brother’s magic.

Back then, magic wasn’t feared or hated, and people were amazed by it.

But as he and Ganieda grow up, more wizards start being born, and so do more cambions who wanted to bring the end of the world, because Merlin apparently won’t. (He doesn’t even know the true circumstances of his birth until years later.)

Because of all this, people become afraid. They begin to associate all human magic with demons and evil, and they decide they need to exterminate it.

So… they start capturing wizards and killing then.

Whether the wizards are innocent or not isn’t the point; no matter what, it’s a terrible, brutal act that shouldn’t have happened, but it does, and it keeps happening.

But Merlin and his family are safe, and he has no idea what’s going on. (The mortal humans know he has a high amount of power, even if he hasn’t used it yet, so they want to get the drop on him.)

Ganieda gets married to a mortal man named Rhydderch Hael, and Merlin, who’s just started getting into crafting, makes them both wedding gifts.

She gets a necklace, and Rhydderch gets a knife.

Ganieda gets pregnant pretty soon after the wedding, and everyone is overjoyed. Merlin is very excited to be an uncle because it’s his only sibling, and unbeknownst to them, the baby is a girl.

The fear of magic keeps getting worse. Soon whole mobs dedicated to wiping out at all magic form, and they decide they have enough manpower to kill Merlin.

They arrive to Merlin’s village. A few of them infiltrate it, pretending to be newcomers searching for a home; the rest of them stay in hiding. They begin spying on Merlin, and they learn that he has a sister. And anyone who’s in proximity to magic and knows about it is helping them live, and helping the magic spread, so they need to die.

One day, Merlin and Rhydderch go out to trade metal for silk, leaving Ganieda at home because she’s very far along at that point.

The mob strikes.

They break the door to Merlin, Ganieda, and Rhydderch’s house down, and they stab her in the stomach, killing her and her unborn child.

Then they set a few houses on fire, driving everyone else out. They leave Merlin’s family home alone for him to discover.

Then they take their exit, satisfied that their work is done. They’d ruined the village, killed Merlin’s sister, and Merlin would definitely end himself when he discovered the carnage.

Merlin and Rhydderch arrive home to their village mostly burned down, with no one in sight. They’re confused, horrified, and terrified for their family’s safety.

They race to their house, and find the door broken, hanging off its hinges.

Ganieda is on the floor close to the entrance. She’s lying in a pool of her own blood, and it’s clear that she’s been dead for a while.

They stare at her in horrified silence, shock rendering them completely unable to speak.

Merlin starts to disassociate for the first time.

Rhydderch, who had gone to his sister and picked up her body while he was, calls his name and begs him to do something, snapping him out of it.

He walks toward them with shaking legs and kneels slowly, taking her into his arms.

And he tries to think of something, anything, that will help-

But he knows he can’t do anything, and Rhydderch sees it in his eyes. He starts sobbing, and Merlin starts crying too.

Merlin starts to lose his innocence that day. It would take a lot more centuries, a lot more losses, and a lot more trauma, but it was the first thing that changed him into the man he is now.

The village slowly starts trickling back, and they hold a funeral for Ganieda and the baby.

At the funeral, Rhydderch gives Merlin her necklace, saying that he should have it because he was the one who made it.

He takes it without protesting and puts it on, a thousand yard stare on his face.

A few months later, Merlin and Rhydderch find themselves in a battle with the steadily growing number of anti-magic humans. (Some of them are definitely the ones who murdered Ganieda and her child.)

One of them stabs Rhydderch in the heart, and Merlin sees him go down.

He races over, kneeling so quickly he roughly slams his knees, but he barely notices that.

Maybe this time his magic could do something.

He lights his hands up and slams them down into his brother-in-law’s chest, over and and over again.

It doesn’t do anything.

Rhydderch is already gone. He’s dead, just like his sister. Just like his sister, there are no goodbyes, no promises to see each other again.

He stares down at his brother-in-law’s body, his blood covering his hands.

He snaps. A grieving, agonized scream tears from his throat, and with it comes a wave of uncontrollable magic that blasts everyone away.

He picks his brother-in-law up and cradles his body, just like he’d cradled his sister’s.

The village has another funeral.

Eventually, Adhan and his father die of old age, leaving him with only Charlie.

Speaking of Charlie. I need to insert him in here. 🥹🤦‍♀️

Eh that’s a worry for future me 😎👍

Thanks for the ask!

[chicksandlit]

Tea Time

Summary - Nymphadora and Remus take home Bill and Fleur for the first time. Wrote for @greenmegsnoham for @careofmagicalshippers discord drabbles.

Rating - Teen and Up

Fandom - Harry Potter

Relationships - Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin/Bill Weasley, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Fleur Delacour/Nymphadora Tonks

Characters - Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Andromeda Black Tonks, Bill Weasley, Fleur Delacour

Other Tags - Fluff, Established Relationship, Polyamorous Characters, Polyamory, Bisexual Remus Lupin, Bisexual Bill Weasley, Bisexual Fleur Delacour, Bisexual Nymphadora Tonks, Mentioned Wolfstar, Healthy Family Relationship

She took the cup from the male oppsite her. "Did you know that my cousin had a male lover when he was younger, come to think of it I think he had multiple lovers." Andromeda spoke up. "He always was more progressive than the rest of us."

Remus choked on the mouthful of tea he had and Bill went to pat him on the back. Her daughter Nymphadora had just brought her new husband home to see her mother for the first time along with their other partners. She wanted to talk to talk to her about their relationship before everyone else found out. Being polyamorous wasn't new in the wizarding world, but it also wasn't that common still either. The pink haired female, had never brought another partner home, she knew she would be accepted but she was just nervous.

"Are you okay there Remus love?" Andromeda asked with slight worry.

"Yes thank you," He took a deep breath to regain some of the oxygen he just lost. "It just shocked me that you knew about Sirius' promiscuity. I never thought there was just me..." He trailed off. Tonks knew about her husbands realtionship with Sirius but her mother did not.

"I knew there was you, James and Lily." She reached over and took one of Remus' hand in hers. "You really wasn't as secretive as you thought. I knew as soon as my daughter told me she was seeing you that you would be perfect for her." She looked over to her daughter who was wrapped in Fleur's arms.

[blackjackkent]

Vague fic ideas rattling around bc SotO release has kicked me right in the feels...hopefully will get to writing something more full soon but for now, random little word-vomit drabble...

Set probably a day or so after the end of the SotO story missions. (Spoilers obviously.)

It should have felt cold, sitting up there at the top of the world. There should have been biting wind, the sort of ice-cold air that blew directly through one's armor and froze at the heart. Lucas had stood atop the highest mountains of the Shiverpeaks and had felt that cold before, and even the tallest among them must be miles below where the Wizard's Tower now hung above the clouds.

And yet it was not cold. There was no wind. The sky was a brilliant blue mottled with clouds and sunlight, and the air was still, calmed and warmed by the overwhelming magic of those who lived there.

He sat cross-legged on a balcony at the top of one of the spires, his elbows resting on his knees, staring out into the endless expanse. Princess, curled up next to him, nudged her head gently under his arm and puffed out a small burst of smoke through her nose with a soft whicker. Absently he rubbed his fingertips along the scales between her eyes, and smiled to himself when this elicited the strange trilling purr that the skyscale produced when she was contented.

"You often seek to be alone, I notice, Wayfinder..." The voice whispered in his ear, silky-smooth, breaking the silence on the balcony, interrupting the slow circular train of his thoughts.

He hissed out a slow breath, closed his eyes. "And you, I see, don't respect that, Peitha," he said evenly. He didn't bother turning to see if the demon was speaking in his head or had actually chosen to manifest herself on the balcony with him. What did it matter, really?

He heard her chuckle softly. "What are you hiding from?" 

Oddly enough, the question didn't even seem to be malicious in nature. She was truly curious - or bored enough to act as if she was. He hadn't quite figured her out yet. Uncomfortable allies they might be...but neither of them had put their cards fully on the table yet.

"I'm not hiding," he said. "Just thinking."

"One can think anywhere in this place. It was made for thinking."

"Sometimes it's easier to think alone." He leaned on the word just slightly. She, unsurprisingly, did not take the hint.

"I think you are afraid," she said matter-of-factly. There was a taunting note to the words, but it was hard to tell if it was there by intention or by nature. Torment and cruelty were in her very being, after all. "You have told Isgarren to trust me. You have paved the path forward and now you must walk on it. And I think you are afraid to take the first step."

Lucas raised one shoulder and lowered it again. "You and your kind aren't as special as you think," he said coolly. "I've stepped onto many roads with death at the end of them. And I haven't flinched. If you're worried that I'll turn my back on you...don't be. When I give my word, I keep it. When the fight for your people comes, I'll be there."

There was a short silence. He was almost certain she was there with him in person, now; he could feel those glowing eyes burning into the back of his head. "What, then?" she finally asked, and he was surprised to realize that even the taunting tone was gone now. It was an honest question looking for an honest answer.

Were it anyone else, he might have even thought she was worried about him.

He shook his head slightly, hunched his shoulders and leaned forward, watching the lazy path of a bird circling among the stone arches below. He didn't mean to answer, so he was rather surprised to hear his own voice emerging anyway, distracted and distant.

"I had-- have-- many friends, back in Tyria. A team. Good people. They don't know about any of this. I've been gone for weeks now. They think I've just...vanished."

All the people he cared about, gone in an instant when he fell into that first rift in Gendarran Fields. Did Braham think, after all their strife, that he had simply disappeared? Did Taimi think he had abandoned her as her disease reached its ending stages? Did Rama and Gorrik and the others in Cantha think he cared nothing for their rebuilding?

And Canach...

His throat convulsed as he swallowed, and he squeezed his eyes shut again, grinding one fist into the opposite palm. He had been ready, only a few days before everything changed, to find an airship back to Cantha, to find Canach and put it all before him, to lay out everything he had realized in those chaotic dark hours in the Delves when everything had felt at its lowest. To say, I see now...I see that it's been you all along. I have been so lonely in the crash from one crisis to the next, but it has been you, the whole time, and I was too blind to see it. And if you'll have me now, I'm yours...

And then the rift appeared and the wizards caught him up in their war. And now he was a world away in that strange windless sky, with death and terror ahead of him, and despite the new comrades in arms that he had found, the sense of solitude, of desolation, was absolute.

"They think I disappeared. Left my duties and my loyalties and just…fled. Because of you and your kind, and the destruction you threatened.” A hint of accusation, of resentment, quickly controlled and bottled away. “Because another fight needed winning.”

The demon made a soft, thoughtful sound low in her throat. "You are not a prisoner here, Wayfinder. I do not think they would stop you, if you decided to go." 

“You would,” he said.

She laughed harshly, a strange shuddering sound inlaid on itself until it rang in his head. “I would try. You are my only hope. But even I do not know if I could stop you. I have put my trust in this fragile thing, this peace, just as you have.”

Silence. He swallowed, leaned forward to rest the heels of his palms against his temples.

She continued, almost gentle, but as implacable as steel. “So why do you stay?” The whisper slid through him like the blade of a knife.

He shuddered, drew in a hoarse breath that was almost a sob. “Because I can’t turn away. I can’t… for so long now, it’s been all there is to me. Another fight to win, another war to shoulder. It’s who I am… ” A terrifying void stretched in place of his purpose and identity if he left before this was finished. He could picture it, and it frightened him beyond measure. “They’re good people, here. They need my help. I can’t abandon them too.”

Perhaps if it were just him, he would have reached out, found a way to send a message, to tell the others where he’d gone. But it was not his secret to tell, and he did not know enough to be able to predict the consequences of more people, even those he most trusted, knowing about the Kryptis and the threat they posed. “So I’m here. Until it’s over, or I’m dead,” he finished flatly.

She said nothing for a little while, and he finally turned his head enough to see her out of the corner of his eye. She was standing leaned against the sloping wall that led to the spire’s peak, and there was something…appraising in that cold gaze as she watched him.

“What we fight against - the dissolution of my people - is of the greatest importance,” she finally said, and even though he could see her lips move, the words still echoed in his mind. “But if it is within my power, you will not die. And those you have left will see you again.”

He smiled faintly, without humor. “I don’t flatter myself that my life is more valuable than your success,” he said. “Or that your compassion isn’t calculated. But if I die and Tyria lives, then the price is fair.”

Please… he wanted to say. Please do not tell me that. Do not let me hope for things that may never come back to me. If I look away from the path long enough to stumble…

She tilted her head, and he wondered if she still saw enough into his mind to read it all. Some strange emotion lurked under the pale glow of her eyes, something almost like sadness. “Even a creature from the depths of Nayos knows when it owes a debt, Wayfinder,” she said. Then the moment of sincerity passed, and her lips curled in a smirk. “Besides - you are no use to me lost in despair.”

He scowled and turned away. “I will be there when the battle begins. Have no fear,” he said bitterly. “For now…just leave me alone.” Silence. He didn’t turn to look; he knew she had gone as he asked. But her voice still lingered in his mind with a parting shot. “Alone you shall be, then. It will not bring them back to you.”

[moongurl95]

Chapter 3.1 – Weasley Start of Term

As a professor, Matilda Weasley could say she’s come across many manners of students— as an aunt to not just one, but several young Weasleys however, she was proud to consider herself capable in de-escalating most troublesome behavior created not just by her dear nephew, but which extends also to the beloved students of Hogwarts.

No one could prepare her however of the extremely troubling news that befell her ears from last night’s Feast.

“Dra— dragon! Dragon!!”

A coachman she had recognized, came bursting right into the Great Hall just as students were taking their seats at their respective Tables.

“It— tore our carriage in half! A man from the Ministry with it!!”

She’d felt her heart plummet, just as whispers slowly began to spread around the Hall. Matilda knew of only one carriage that would have arrived today along with someone from the Ministry.

“Enough!” Surprisingly, it was Black who broke through the near rising murmurs, gesturing someone over to “care for” the evidently shaking coachman.

“Headmaster, we should—” Matilda was stopped midsentence as Black raised his hand in finality.

“We have a Sorting Ceremony to attend to.”

“But Professor Fig and the new student—”

“Will be fine! I will handle the Ministry after this.”

Leaving no room for further arguments, Matilda gestured for Mr. Moon to let the first years into the Great Hall, all the while hoping that no harm came upon Eleazar and his mentee.

In the end, Black didn’t have to contact the Ministry after all with the late, but thankfully safe, arrival of the new fifth year who now had the Hall’s full attention.

Matilda took notice that despite having a look of solemn wonder, the young girl was not shaking like a leaf as Matilda would have expected. If her assured steps were to be taken at face value, Beatrice Hayes did not look the least bit worse for wear, she had even made quick acquaintances from her House as Matilda quietly observed from the professors ' table.

“Professor Fig.” She had called his attention just as he finished raising a glass towards his young charge as a proud mentor would. “I was wondering about the reason for your delayed arrival. Was it truly just a case of searching for lost belongings?”

“Ah yes unfortunately so, Professor Weasley. I’ve already gotten hold of some much-needed assistance from the house elves, but it seems Ms. Hayes has completely lost most of her supplies needed for the school year.”

“That can be arranged with a quick trip to Hogsmeade as soon as tomorrow, but truly Eleazar, is that all there is to what happened after the dragon attack?”

“I’m afraid so.” Came the terse and final reply from Fig, leaving Matilda to probe no further.

Now having stopped by the Ravenclaw Tower to provide further guidelines on what Ms. Hayes was to expect on her first year at Hogwarts, Matilda easily spotted the smiling young girl. Compared to last night, her face now seemed bright and well-rested from a good night's sleep, Matilda thought then that perhaps Ms. Hayes would prove to have a more open perspective on the previous day’s events.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : –

“Owls? Ah yes, Professor Fig did mention something about the Ordinary Wizarding Level exams, to help me determine what type of career would be best suited for me after Hogwarts, was it?” Beatrice remembered feeling overwhelmed at knowing that she'd have to begin with the end in mind— while her peers had 4 years to think about what they wanted for themselves, here she was with only a year to prove herself.

It was a good thing though that the Wizarding World was filled with so much wonder that she couldn't help but read every book Professor Fig had for her to catch up on her studies, and many others about history and culture— the Wizarding community seemed to be a lot more progressive, especially when it came to how women can own property and not be forced to marry. Though the latter aspect did still depend on one's Blood Status, a topic she frowned at yet was fascinated by at the same time as it defined one's identity in a way, she'd be ignorant to not wonder about her own heritage especially if she never knew her father. Beatrice only deduced she could be a half-blood at best, but realistically may just be a muggle-born. So how could she explain seeing traces of an Ancient Magic? Was it even an inherent ability?

“Now I see what Professor Fig was so pleased about writing in his updates from mentoring you.” Professor Weasley looked at her with a knowing smile, “It's one thing to be a fast learner, but even more so be able to retain the various topics you've been taught in just two months’ time. Either way, we've discussed with the Department of Magical Education to provide you with something extraordinary to ensure your success.”

A hardbound book suddenly appeared before Professor Weasley's outstretched hands which she then handed over. Before Beatrice could marvel at its surprising light weight however, the embossed Hogwarts logo quickly glowed with Ravenclaw's blue eagle emblem, shaking violently before it burst out of her hands, symbols and papers flying out and scattering about to who knows where before it quickly shut closed and dropped back into Beatrice's hands.

“What is it?” She asked after the initial shock had mostly worn off, now noticing that the hardbound book was decidedly thinner.

“It is a Wizard's Field Guide. To help you keep track of what you're learning and master all that's expected of a fifth-year. You would be wise to take full advantage of this exceptionally valuable resource.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : –

And wise she was, as Matilda noted how adept Ms. Hayes was at casting Revelio— it may not have been the hardest of spells, but it took the mind's focus to see what the eyes initially cannot. It was also amusing to see how eagerly she had read the one field guide page she'd just collected, thumbing through the rest that were still left in the guidebook. Though there was one thing that Matilda notice Beatrice hesitate to do, it was using the Floo network.

Had Ignatia Wildsmith not gently coaxed the young girl into revealing their next destination, she'd have stood there unmoving with a handful of Floo powder in her one hand, almost petrified at the thought of the harmless Floo flames engulfing her. Matilda knew then that perhaps the dragon attack left more of an impression on Ms. Hayes than she let on, prodding her for answers from yesterday would not be easy.

next chapter ⤜⤏

[beantothemax]

Chapter Three:

Hey did you think Cunningsworth is a big city? Get ready for Whitecrux

Sitting pretty at the very centre of the Hearthlands, this thing is a metropolis

It’s very much in the same vein as Cunningsworth though: lots of back alleys that make for a much better path to the university than the main roads

Additionally, there’s some kind of really dumb roadblock on the main road. The stupider the better.

Tyrri makes it through the back alleys with little issue before reaching the university, and sitting in the highest tower is Headmaster Tasslemore

He’s a much older man than Professor Elber, much more classic wizard-looking (rather than Elber who was wearing basically just a tweed jacket, this game exists around the same time as OT2 because suits in a fantasy setting are fun)

He asks to see the water samples, and after a little bit of looking, comes to two conclusions

One: the non-elemental magic in the water appears to be biological in origin

Two: the filaments that make up the crystals very closely mimic the muscles in the heart

He says that he’s going to take the rest of the day to look further into it so he can draft up a preliminary report, and sends Tyrri away

He isn’t very fun. Not that I care.

The road is still blocked so Tyrri takes the back alleys again

Something bad finally happens to the university student walking alone in alleys as a pair of people try to steal her messenger bag (which has all of her notes and equipment)

Fight ensues, the two assailants are notably casters

After thoroughly trouncing the duo, Tyrri demands to know why they would go after a research student of all people

She’s broke as hell and her equipment matches that

They explain that they’re independent researchers and are just completely starved for gear

Why not go to the university? They look around that age and it would be a crime to make schooling so unaffordable that people straight-up couldn’t take courses

Like, no one would be awful enough to not at least have a basics course at a cheaper price

Well you’re not gonna believe this but

The duo leave her alone after it becomes clear that they’re no match for her

Tyrri is NOT sleeping good that night. Something something her black-and-white view of the world being challenged by the idea that a person who helped her being bad actually

In spite of the fact that she was supposed to go bright and early to head to the university she returns back to the place the duo almost mugged her because what they said is messing her up

She returns to find them in the same place and starts talking things out

Their names are Willie and Dante, they’re brothers, and their parents moved to the Hearthlands from the Deltalands in hope of better education for their sons

 The University of Whitecrux, in addition to its many other descriptors, is also hellishly expensive to get into

Tyrri is pissed but refuses to explain why, stares at a wall silently for a bit, and then says that she’s going to go beat the everliving shit out of the headmaster

Willie and Dante are free to tag along and do so gladly

As the three march into the university, a guard spots them

“INTRUDER ALERT. THOSE DAMN KIDS ARE BACK.”

“Guys what did you do.”

“Yeah we may or may not have tried to pull the same trick we did on you, on the university.”

With that delightful bit of dumbassery that most certainly should have been brought up beforehand, we jump into…

The Third (technically second) Dungeon: University of Whitecrux

You’d think that you already explored here but you’re WRONG

The first time Tyrri came here it jumped to a cutscene as soon as you opened the door and cut straight to her entering the headmaster’s office (jokes about it being too many stairs for her 4’11” twig frame ensue, she SMALL)

The enemies here are exclusively elementals paired with a single spellcaster, and armoured guards

Why does a university have armoured guards on its payroll? Don’t ask me. Ask the headmaster.

It’s fairly linear, just heading up and up towards the top of the tower

Definitely lots of hidden goodies to find like in Professor Elber’s office; there are going to be side quests here later on

Tyrri continues her streak of having real shitty dungeons because I truly have nothing to say about this

It’s a university with a bigass tower on it. What else do you want me to tell you.

Opening the doors to the headmaster’s office once more, a verbal spat breaks out

Headmaster Tasslemore demands to know why Tyrri would do this, Tyrri can easily explain as much

She was a street kid growing up, but she was able to scrounge and save enough from an early age and get schooling, work her ass off for scholarships, and get into the University of Cunningsworth (UoC is like. The Qamarian standard for how expensive a university should be. Its still too high but its closer to reasonable than THIS)

It was a truly awful time and she wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, even if they had tried to rob her the day before (quick glance back at Willie and Dante)

Headmaster Tasslemore. Does not like that. He does not like that the preliminary report he had drafted up had been for one of those rats

The natural thing to do? Throw it out the window. One of the siblings is thankfully able to intercept him before he can do that but some magic-enhanced keep away ensues

The room steaming with rage on both sides, we leap into…

and because tumblr is. i dont know stupid or homophobic or something it's not letting me send the full thing. stay tuned.

the roadblock on the main road is that there’s a single cat sleeping in the middle of the road and there’s a huge crowd of people gathered around it just. watching it

also I’m understanding the ‘classic wizard’ vibes from tasslemore. you really put him in a wizard tower huh.

ALSO tyrri learning that the university is stupidly expensive to get into and IMMEDIATLY deciding she’s going to go beat the shit out of tussle more is absolutely perfect. I love her more than I already did

and ooo cliffhanger!!!