#'what girl??' 'I dunno! she was a wizard too - she kept her wand in her boot!'

[darthmatthewtwihard]

I love this.

disney is a coward so I know they'll never do this, but given what we learned was SUPPOSE to happen between alex and stevie, I would still love a post-eloping for the reboot.

like just imagine alex and stevie as the Cool Gay Aunts(tm) for justin's kids (+ billie). they show up for the holidays and totally shower the kids with magical gifts, including a baby dragon for the boys (which does end up setting fire to their parents bed sheets). milo shows off a magic trick to his friends, using alex (since billie's not allowed to) sneakily casting spells from the bushes so the card really does dissapear from his hand, leaving his friends cheering (stevie smiling but refusing to admit to alex how cute is it). stevie has a motorcycle (which alex thinks is super hot but also refuses to admit) and while the kids aren't old enough for a ride, she does let them sit on it and rev the handles nice and loud while justin panics from the porch. they team up with all three kids to pull pranks on justin and even sometimes get giana in on a few harmless ones. maybe alex even uses her role on the tribunal to get stevie's records cleared, and they both start to advocate for a more fair way of distributing magic between families.

and billie could have an extra adult at her side! I know justin is suppose to fill the pseudo-dad role, but while billie spends her time with the russo's, also gets to spend her summers or whatever with her two cool wizard aunts. they encourage her to keep up with her studies but for the most part they just chill, letting billie indulge in a few sweets (knowing how health-conscious justin has forced his family to be) and sometimes in a pg-13 movie together. when she's there however, the house does turn into a prank war; guests are to be extremely careful when entering and encouraged to bring a separate pair of clothes.

I dunno it would just be super cool; alex and stevie reunited and I think the kids would love her too - plus watching their aunt who's always acted so aloof get all smiley and whatnot and I'm just imagining a scenario with alex and the kids like:

billie: why does stevie call you babygirl

alex: hey who wants to play the quiet game!!

[yanyyogurt]

Brainrotting how to write the Voldemort Wins AU for Dramione month, when this plot bunny came in.

What if Draco and Hermione were cellmates? And they learn about each other in prison, and they plot their escape!

The question now is - how does this happen LOL. Lord of Plot Bunnies possess me please.

Snippet --

She was struggling real hard from the man’s grip on her shoulders. There were so many of them now that Hermione didn’t know the name of the wizard that had caught her. The Dark Lord’s supporters were like mice that bided their time until Voldemort was restored, and despite their numbers, they knew most of those who were on the side of the good, Harry’s side. They’ve rounded up everyone involved actively in the war, as far as Hermione knew, and now, anyone who wasn’t pureblood was fair game for them as well. “Oy, gotcha this lil lady running away when I caught her by Diagon Alley,” the nameless wizard spoke, his voice low and raspy as he talked to the idle guard positioned by the entrance of the cell. She was blindfolded and held by a stunning spell as they Apparated to the prison, which seemed like a regular-looking one, the one you’d see on Muggle television. Not that Hermione’s ever been to any wizard prisons, but she knew the place, while ordinary, was surely bewitched to prevent escape. It wasn’t no Azkaban though. Not yet, Hermione thought. It would only be a matter of time before she would join Ron, Ginny, Neville, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the rest of the Order in Azkaban where they were kept. Those active participants in the war, especially someone like her, would definitely be kept in such maximum security. But for now, she was Abigail Una, a random Muggleborn, graduate of Hogwarts under House Hufflepuff and worked in Diagon Alley as a shopkeeper selling second-hand books and parchment. She knew someone was following her when she was about to escape Diagon Alley. The Dark Lord and his minions had marked the place and made Disapparating out of the town impossible, still she was there trying to scavenge what remained of the shops for some last resources she could muster before going into hiding, maybe planning a rescue and resistance if she were to find any more like her who would have escaped. Her deft reflexes were able to warn her to take a swig of the Polyjuice Potion she had brewed and always kept when out and about, hidden by her sock. She was glad that the wizard who caught her was stupid enough to only get her small bag and not check her with a spell that would reveal what she had in her person. So that was the only thing Hermione was able to bring into prison, aside from the clothes on her back. And that was already a great deal, as there’s been a manhunt out for her. “What’s her name?” The guard conjured up a list to check. He didn’t seem too old, Hermione thought. He looked a bit like Stan Shunpike in age and hair, but when he drawled and yawned, she saw the traces of gunk and yellow in his teeth, indicating he might be older than he looked. “Dunno, she won’t speak.” The guard waved his wand as the list vanished and said, “Don’t matter, this ain’t her. That girl that was with Potter’s still at large.” “Then what do we do with this?” The other man roughly yanked her by the sleeve of her blouse. “Stick her in that cell there, that last one, everything else’s full,” the guard pointed to the farthest one. There were only three cells in this block, and she shuddered to think why it was so quiet when it was supposedly full. She ain’t on the list, and she ain’t one of ours, so just dump her there. We’ll know what to do with her later on.” And so that’s where Hermione found herself in a random Muggle-like prison, deemed unimportant but criminal enough to be held captive. Which begged the question as to why Draco Malfoy was sitting across from her in the cell, when in Voldemort’s world, he would be neither.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars XCI (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I'd missed this silly goose! tho the actors in hp for some reason look way older so he looks like a baby but pls imagine Erick like this older-looking student bc he should look that way jdhfd -Danny

Words: 2,195

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Twenty-Six: Talk it out.

"Hagrid!" Hermione shouted. "Hagrid, that's enough! We know you're in there! Nobody cares if your mum was a giantess, Hagrid! You can't let that foul Skeeter woman do this to you! Hagrid, get out here, you're just being —" The door opened. "About t — !" Hermione froze when she found Dumbledore there instead of their friend.

"Good afternoon," he said.

"We — er — we wanted to see Hagrid."

"Yes, I surmised as much," He said in amusement. "Why don't you come in?"

"Oh... um... okay."

Hagrid was sitting at the table, there were two mugs of tea. For the looks of it, he'd been crying.

"Hi, Hagrid," said Harry.

" 'Lo," he said lowly.

"More tea, I think," said Dumbledore, and with the flick of his wand, a tea tray appeared. "Did you by any chance hear what Miss Granger was shouting, Hagrid? Hermione, Mel, Harry, and Ron still seem to want to know you, judging by the way they were attempting to break down the door."

"Of course we still want to know you!" Harry said. "You don't think anything that Skeeter cow — sorry, Professor..."

"I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't any idea what you said, Harry," said Dumbledore, looking up to the ceiling with interest.

"Er — right... I just meant — Hagrid, how could you think we'd care what that — woman — wrote about you?" Hagrid cried silently, two huge tears falling down his beard.

"Oh, Hagrid, don't cry!" Mel's hand went to rest above his, looking almost comically small.

"Living proof of what I've been telling you, Hagrid," said Dumbledore. "I have shown you the letters from the countless parents who remember you from their own days here, telling me in no uncertain terms that if I sacked you, they would have something to say about it —"

"Not all of 'em," said Hagrid. "Not all of 'em wan' me ter stay."

"Really, Hagrid, if you are holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time. Not a week has passed since I became headmaster of this school when I haven't had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?"

"Yeh — yeh're not half-giant!"

"Hagrid, look what I've got for relatives!" Harry said in disbelief. "Look at the Dursleys!"

"An excellent point," said Dumbledore. "My own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practising inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I'm not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery..."

Mel looked at her uncle knowing that there was certainly more he could say about their family, but she remained quiet.

"Come back and teach, Hagrid," said Hermione, "please come back, we really miss you."

"I refuse to accept your resignation, Hagrid, and I expect you back at work on Monday," said Dumbledore, standing up to leave. "You will join me for breakfast at eight-thirty in the Great Hall. No excuses. Good afternoon to you all."

When the Headmaster left the cabin, Hagrid sobbed for real, hiding his face behind both hands.

"Great man, Dumbledore... great man..."

"Yeah, he is," said Ron. "Can I have one of these cakes, Hagrid?"

"Help yerself," said Hagrid. "Ar, he's righ', o' course — yeh're all righ'... I bin stupid... my ol' dad woulda bin ashamed o' the way I've bin behavin'... Never shown you a picture of my old dad, have I? Here..."

Hagrid got up, went over to his dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out a picture of a short wizard with Hagrid's crinkled black eyes, beaming as he sat on top of Hagrid's shoulder. Hagrid was a good seven or eight feet tall, judging by the apple tree beside him, but his face was beardless, young, round, and smooth — he looked hardly older than eleven.

"Tha' was taken jus' after I got inter Hogwarts," Hagrid croaked. "Dad was dead chuffed... thought I migh' not be a wizard, see, 'cos me mum... well, anyway. 'Course, I never was great shakes at magic, really... but at least he never saw me expelled. Died, see, in me second year...

"Dumbledore was the one who stuck up for me after Dad went. Got me the gamekeeper job... trusts people, he does. Gives 'em second chances... tha's what sets him apar' from other heads, see. He'll accept anyone at Hogwarts, s'long as they've got the talent. Knows people can turn out okay even if their families weren'... well... all tha' respectable. But some don' understand that. There's some who'd always hold it against yeh... there's some who'd even pretend they just had big bones rather than stand up an' say — I am what I am, an' I'm not ashamed. 'Never be ashamed,' my ol' dad used ter say, 'there's some who'll hold it against you, but they're not worth botherin' with.' An' he was right. I've bin an idiot. I'm not botherin' with her no more, I promise yeh that. Big bones... I'll give her big bones."

The kids shared nervous glances, but Hagrid kept talking without waiting for a reply.

"Yeh know wha', Harry? When I firs' met you, you reminded me o' me a bit. Mum an' Dad gone, an' you was feelin' like yeh wouldn' fit in at Hogwarts, remember? Not sure yeh were really up to it... an' now look at yeh, Harry! School champion! Yeh know what I'd love, Harry? I'd love yeh ter win, I really would. It'd show 'em all... yeh don' have ter be pureblood ter do it. Yeh don' have ter be ashamed of what yeh are. It'd show 'em Dumbledore's the one who's got it righ', lettin' anyone in as long as they can do magic. How you doin' with that egg, Harry?"

"Great," said Harry shakily. "Really great."

"Tha's my boy... you show 'em, Harry, you show 'em. Beat'em all..."

"But if it doesn't turn out as expected," Mel was quick to add. "Know that we are all proud of you as well, Hagrid. We love you very much."

"I'll follow Cedric's advice," Harry told her quietly before going to bed that night.

"Blimey, all it took was a crying Hagrid..." Mel raised her eyebrows. "Want help?"

"No," He replied. "Dunno... I'll let you know."

"All right," She sighed. "Good luck."

She had an important matter to attend that day in private and it could only be between her and Erick. She used the pocket watch he'd given her and informed him that she wanted to talk. On Monday, both students met at the far end of the library, Mel had no idea where to start.

"I won't apologize for what I said the other day, I know you hate it when I do that," She began, "but you're hiding something and I would like to know what it is, maybe I can help you?"

She was expecting many reactions, all except the one she got. Erick let out a long sigh and picked out of his bag one of the books she'd lent him.

"Persuasion?" Mel raised a brow.

"I take that you've read it?" He asked.

"I love it," She smiled at it. "The main character's name is Anne, right?"

"Yes," Erick shook his head. "The story... It made me think– What if I'm making a mistake?"

"What d'you mean?"

"What if I don't like Anne the way I think I do?" He elaborated. "I wrote and she wrote back every week, we never ran out of things to say, but the last week before going to my grandad's house she said something that... What if I just like her because she's the complete opposite of what my parents want?"

"I feel like those are unrelated, I'm not sure I follow," Mel frowned. "Since when you've been having doubts?"

"Since Anne and I started to talk more this summer. It's not exactly that I have doubts, I mean, I know I feel something, I just don't know what."

"I don't think there's a reasoning behind the people we like," She retorted. "...Right?"

"If there's no reasoning, then I guess it's all right, but if I'm supposed to have one... I don't have it. I can't tell why I like her."

"Well, you think she's pretty?"

"Yeah," Erick moved on his place awkwardly. "Although I think other girls are pretty too, and I could even get along with them as I do with Anne. If you were to ask me why I'm interested in her, I wouldn't know."

"But that's normal," Mel tried to calm him. "Love has no logic, that doesn't mean is bad?"

"Listen," He put a finger on the book and pointed harshly. "If I just like her because she's pretty and fun then it wouldn't be bad... Yet I think I'm around her because I know it'd make my parents mad, when I'm here, at school, I don't worry about her... I do wonder, but is not constant."

"So? I don't think about Harry all day."

"Aren't I supposed to be dying of solitude when I'm away from her? Maybe this is just a lie I tell myself so I feel like a normal guy, maybe I'm incapable of falling in love and Anne is just my excuse to be a bad son..."

There was a piece of paper coming out of the book, she took it without thinking. Erick kept rambling without looking at what she was doing and her eyes skimmed through the letter. The seams were so worn out that she could tell the boy had read it several times.

"Anne likes someone else..." She said quietly.

Erick's eyes landed on the piece of paper his face turned pale. "Give me that."

"His name's Stuart and he's nice...'" Mel read out loud. "Her boyfriend?"

"No," He said, seizing the letter. "He could be... but she's waiting."

"Waiting?"

"For me."

"And you don't want to say anything," Mel said slowly, "because you're not sure?"

"I can't be with her," Erick said with difficulty. "Not yet... I have two more years of school, even then I don't know when I'll be able to leave my parents' house..."

"But you like her."

"My parents won't approve."

"You don't have to tell them."

"I can't do that!" He said. "Imagine that Harry's parents were alive and they hated everything about you. That every time they see you they'd throw nasty remarks your way, and then Harry'd be out in the street with no money and without being able to give you a good life, imagine you're from two different worlds and nothing you have to offer can get him out trouble..."

"I think... I think we'd both be in pain all the time," Mel said quietly, "...Is that how you feel?"

"That's what will happen if I do the wrong thing," Erick ran a hand through his hair, ruining his neat curls. "I'd love to send a letter telling her everything... but we're young, I wasn't expecting things to move as fast as they did... she's great, she really is, but she doesn't even know I'm a wizard. There are too many secrets and I just think Anne deserves better. Maybe Stuart can do better."

"I think that in a way, you're right," Mel pushed the book towards him. "But I've seen you read and learn, get rid of so many prejudices just to meet her, not even knowing if she'd like you back... that has to mean something."

Erick supported his head in one hand, rubbing his forehead. "All I know is that if I pull her away from this boy without telling her everything... I'll end up ruining one of the best things that have ever happened to me."

"Then?" She frowned. "You're going to... you're just going to leave her?"

Erick swallowed the lump in his throat. "I want her to choose him... I'm not around anyway, I could even mention the ball and Daphne just to... to make her think..."

"You're gonna hurt her," She told him, not in a reproachful tone, but one that had to be said. "I guess this is the gentlest way you can do it... and it's not forever, right? I mean, if everything goes as planned, eventually you'll be able to try. It's meant to be."

"Meant to be?" He chuckled bitterly. "You sound too sure."

"I am," She responded sincerely. "You and Anne will end up together... just like Harry and me, if I'm lucky enough."

Erick gave her a look, a tiny smile on his lips. "Warming up to the idea then?"

"I've been too hard on myself and Harry," She shrugged. "I think life can be a fairytale if we do what we're meant to do."

"How are we supposed to know what that is?"

"Fate will find a way," Mel got up and patted his shoulder. "Just don't lose hope..."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha​ @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere​ @t-rexs-world

[ickle-ronniekins]

crush, fred x reader

request: from anon: I don’t know if ur accepting requests right now but if you are, could you write about Fred having a crush on a girl that happens to be best friends with Ron? Btw I hope that things with your boyfriend are beginning to get better x | hi darling sunshine! of course i’ll write that for you! & yes, requests are open indeed :) aw thanks lovey, we’re always working at it, also this is hella long i got so carried away i am so sorry lmao x also idk how i feel about this ugh cause i tried to make it sound like the reader and ron are best friends but reading it back i’m kind of like ??? but also i rewrote the first portion like literally four different times UGH i struggled with this one but it was a good struggle anon THANK U for the request!

prompt: none

warnings: instability bc weasley perfection? IDK MAN

You and Ron were sitting in the Great Hall, watching as brave students from each house and the other wizarding schools placed their names into the goblet, hoping to be chosen to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. “I wish I could enter,” he told you.

Just then, Harry appeared beside you both. “No you bloody don’t,” he told him and laughed.

“Yeah, Ron, you’ve got to be barking mad to want to enter,” you said. Just then, his older twin brothers ran into the Great Hall, ringing in cheers from everyone around them. They were both holding something in their hands. You just rolled your eyes. “Case in point, Ron. Look at those two.”

Fred and George were showing off whatever concoction they’d brewed up when they came over to the three of you. George asked, “Don’t think we can do it?”

“No,” the three of you said together.

Fred overdramatically fell backwards and into you—pretending to be offended by your doubt that they were going to successfully be able to place their names in the goblet, whilst somehow being able to trick Dumbledore’s age line.

“Y/N,” Fred whined, “I’m heartbroken. Literally heartbroken that you don’t believe in us.”

“Oh, it’s not that I don’t believe in you, Freddie,” you told him and his eyes were swimming with excitement. “It’s just that I believe in Dumbledore more.”

Ron and Harry began laughing next to you when the twins began to shake their vials. The surrounding students were becoming more and more excited to see what was about to happen, and many people began whispering animatedly. The goblet was showing off a deep blue color fire, and Fred and George were more than ready to place their names in.

“Just wait,” Fred told you and swung his arm around your shoulder. “In three days time I’ll have been chosen to compete in the tournament, and by the end of the school year, I’ll be the champion, and you’ll be so impressed that you’ll fall head over heels.”

You scoffed at him. “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” he told you, “It is. Ready, George?”

“Ready, Fred,”

“Bottoms up!” they said together.

And that’s when hilarity ensued.

Later that evening, in the common room, Fred, George, Harry and Ron were playing a game of cards, while you, Ginny, and Hermione were sitting around the fire, chatting about the upcoming tournament and the Yule Ball.

George was scratching his face and saying, “I still have remnants of that bloody beard from this afternoon. Who knew our aging potion wouldn’t work?”

Ron laughed. “Everyone, mate.”

“Oh, it definitely worked,” Harry retorted, “just not the way you wanted it too.” Him and Ron started snickering like little girls.

Fred wasn’t listening. He was shuffling his cards slowly, sort of in a daydream like trance, and Ron was snapping his fingers in front of his face.

He was too busy peering at you to notice anything else around him. He was focused on the way your hair cascaded over your shoulders in soft curls, the rosy pink your cheeks turned after being out in the cold, your voice bouncing off of the common rooms walls every time you let a giggle escape your lips, the clothes you wore other than your Gryffindor robes.

“Hello?” Ron said, slapping Fred across the cheek.

Surprised and brought back to reality, Fred placed a hand to his cheek. “What the bloody hell was that for?”

George just laughed. “We’ve been trying to get your attention for the last ten minutes, Freddie,”

Fred softened and turned back towards you. “Oh,” he said, completely forgetting the moment. He watched you still, and when you looked up from your conversation with Hermione and Ginny and caught his glance, you beamed at him. It’s almost as if you could hear his heart begin to pound.

He turned back towards his friends and told them, “Erm, guys—I’ve something to tell you,”

George, Ron, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh, just a little bit. The common room fire was roaring and the students around were buzzing, but Fred Weasley was nervous. He was actually nervous.

George smirked when he told him, “Yeah? Go on then.”

Fred swallowed over a lump in his throat. He made sure that you were out of earshot. “I’m...kind of mad for Y/N.”

The three boys sat for a moment and then burst out into laughter. Fred furrowed his brows, obviously offended by their laughter and his humiliation, when Harry spoke.

“We know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, mate, the whole bloody world knows,” George told his twin. “You’re not exactly subtle with it.”

Ron snorted before saying, “Yeah, and your flirting isn’t the best, either.” Fred punched him in the arm. “Don’t worry, she hasn’t said anything to me about it. Pretty sure she doesn’t even realize it’s flirting—” Ron couldn’t help but snicker, and Fred punched him in the arm again.

He turned back towards you, watching you again, wanting nothing more than to run over, spin you around and kiss you, but he held back the urge. He placed his hand under his cheek and rested on it, peering at you with admiration. To the boys, he said, “So what the bloody hell do I do now?”

“What you’re good at,”

Fred looked towards his twin with confusion written on his face.

“Be honest, do your thing and tell her.”

You were suffering silently in Potions with Ron. Across from you, Harry and Hermione seemed to be brewing something perfect, while yours, on the other hand, wasn’t looking terribly great. Ron kept groaning and letting his head fall onto the desk.

Snape was in a particularly bad mood that Wednesday afternoon, for whatever unbeknownst reason. He had given you all the hardest potion to brew, with directions that weren’t clear in the slightest, and left you all to the cauldrons. And the punishment for not brewing it absolutely perfectly? Two weeks detention.

You wished you could be outside in the snow, walking through Hogsmeade, heading into Zonko’s, warming up in The Three Broomsticks with a butterbeer. Anything but this.

“I hate this bloody class,” Ron said as he added a sprinkle of something to the potion that prompted it to turn a nasty, purply-brown color. Ron scowled and peered at the directions on the board once more.

“Just think—in a week, we’ll be at the Yule Ball, dancing the night away, not worrying about this stupid lesson,” you told him and grabbed his hand before he disastrously placed way too many porcupine quills in the potion. “No, no—two, Ron, not five.”

Two did the trick. The grody, brown looking potion in front of you seemed to take a turn for the better when it slowly became a nice looking green color, which is what it should have been in the first place. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Hey, who’re you bringing to that, anyway?”

“I dunno,” you told him truthfully as you added another mistletoe berry into the potion. “Why? D’you want to go with me, Ron?” you teased.

“Ha-ha,” he said sarcastically, and you could’ve sworn you saw him glance admiringly at Hermione, who was almost finished brewing her perfect potion. Ron cleared his throat when he noticed you saw him. He continued, “No, really, who do you think you’ll go with?”

“I dunno, Ron!” you laughed. “I genuinely have no idea. Why are you pushing this?” You saw his cheeks turn rosy and he seemed to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He was hiding something. “Ronald Weasley, what do you know?”

“Nothing!” Ron jumped up. Snape looked up from the other end of the room where he was observing the Slytherin’s potions. He shot the both of you a look of pure disgust, and went back to his observations. Ron swallowed over a lump in his throat when you kept prodding him with your wand. He rolled his robe sleeves to his elbows and breathed out slowly. You loved how nervous Ron got when he was keeping a secret, because truthfully, he wasn’t very good at keeping them. He kept pushing his long hair out of his eyes and tapping his feet against the floor. When you wouldn’t let up, he finally blurted out, “Enough with the third degree! Freddie’s mad for you, alright?”

You were so taken aback, literally, you almost knocked your cauldron onto the floor. Luckily, behind you, Dean Thomas caught it with mere milliseconds to spare. “What?” you asked Ron. “No he isn’t,” you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself.

Ron’s nervousness seemed to slip away when he laughed and said, “Don’t make me say ‘I told you, so’.”

It’s as if Ron’s words made them appear, because Fred and George slipped into your Potions class, somehow, without Snape seeing. At least, at first.

“What the bloody hell are you two doing in here?” Ron and Harry asked them.

George just rolled his eyes. “I tried to stop him, but he took my advice way too literally.”

“What advice?” You and Hermione wondered aloud at the same time.

Fred stepped closer to you and your heart started to pound. In the middle of class? Was he kidding? With twenty or so other students there? And Snape?

“You’re coming to the Yule Ball with me,” he told you straightforwardly. It wasn’t a question and you didn’t seem to have a choice in the matter.

You asked him. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” he told you confidently. “Yeah, it is because I’m mad for you,” he winked, “and I know you’re mad for me, too.”

You could feel your lips curl into a sensual sort of smirk. Just then, someone from Slytherin yelled out and pointed towards the twins, and Snape turned swiftly from the back of the dungeons. You could’ve sworn you heard him yell out, “Weasley!” but you were too distracted to even care. All you cared about was the boy in front of you—with his long red hair, his heart melting half smiling, and the fact that he was a bloody idiot sneaking into your class. You didn’t care about anything else. Your heart was racing. The dungeons were bustling with chatter now—about Snape being even more angry than he already was, and about those older, redheaded Weasleys that somehow managed to make their way into a busy Potions class.

George was kicking Fred’s leg, saying, “Bloody hell, mate, let’s go!” but Fred didn’t move. Instead, he stood there, waiting for you to say something, anything.

“So?” Ron, Harry, George and Hermione all asked together.

You looked at them and then back towards Fred and asked him, “Well what took you so bloody long to figure it out?”

His smirk only grew, his eyes enticing you to run out of that classroom and back to whatever empty room you could find. But just then, Snape reached the top of the classroom and tried to grab Fred by his robe sleeves.

George kicked Fred once more before sprinting out of the classroom, and before following his twin, Fred squeezed your hand and said to you, “Being chased by Snape is totally worth it, by the way.” He slipped out from underneath Snape’s grimy fingertips and left the Potions professor seething at the seams.

Professor Snape turned to you, red faced and livid, and announced in front of the entire class, “A week’s detention! Was it worth it, Y/L/N? Was it worth it for that Weasley boy?”

But Fred was still there, outside the classroom. He was careful not to be seen, but he was still peering in at you to make sure you didn’t receive too bad of a punishment for his shenanigans. You knew Fred would probably manage to sneak his way into your detention, too. You smirked at Snape and then turned your attention to Freddie in the corridor. Without skipping a beat, you winked and responded, “Totally worth it.”

[whatisnormalforthespider]

Pictures of You

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Reader

Summary: A fanfic I posted on AO3 for Halloween/Kinktober.

Jonathan always has been and always will be a creeper. Here he is at his very creepiest.

WARNING: this story contains graphic rape/noncon. Read with caution.

You had always liked Jonathan Byers. Ever since you met in the fourth grade, he had been your friend. You did everything together—homework, gaming, family dinners. Everything. As you grew older you started to LIKE like him. You were frightened by this, worried that if your feelings were revealed it would ruin your friendship. So for the past few years you’d kept things quiet. You tried dating other guys but none of them were what you were looking for. For the sake of your friendship, you’d resigned yourself to not being satisfied at this point.

But you still relished every moment you got to spend with him. So when he invited you into the darkroom with him you happily agreed. You watch as he dips each photo, handing them to you to hang up to dry. He’d always been an avid photographer and in your eyes, his pictures have only been getting better. “These are really beautiful, Jon,” you whisper, hushed by the pitch black of the room. Even in the darkness you can tell he’s blushing.

“Thanks, Y/N…” He shrugs bashfully. “They’re nothing, really. You just have to find the right lighting, the right angles…I could show you sometime.”

“I’d like that.” You try to ignore the way your heart skips a beat at his words, instead concentrating on the latest photo he’s handed you. It’s a picture of his little brother, all dressed up in a wizard costume complete with a staff and hat. He looks so happy, you can’t help but smile. “Is this one for Halloween?”

Jonathan glances at the photo and laughs. “Oh, no. He wears that when he plays Dungeons and Dragons with his friends. He’s such a nerd.” He says the word lovingly.

You raise an eyebrow. “If he’s a nerd, what does that make you?”

You just know he’s blushing even harder now. “I…I don’t know. A freak, maybe.”

“I’m just messing with you, Jon.” You nudge him playfully and his lips turn up again. “So…what are you doing this weekend?”

“For Halloween? I dunno.” He risks a glance at you but refuses to meet your eyes. “You could come over if you want…my mom has to work and my brother will be out Trick-or-Treating.”

Your heart leaps into your throat. Alone? With him? At his house? “S-sure, I’d love to.” You elbow him to cover up your own embarrassment. “I’ll dress up real fancy for you.”

He laughs. “Whatever, Y/N. I’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

************************************

You’re just in time to catch Ms. Byers as she leaves for the night. “Hi, Y/N!” She beams, wrapping you in a hug. “It’s so nice to see you. How have you been?”

You can’t resist smiling back at her. She’s like a second mother to you. “I’ve been great, Ms. Byers.”

“And you look so pretty!” She holds you at arm’s length to admire your outfit. “What are you supposed to be, a witch?”

“A mage,” you correct, showing her your dollar-store wand. “It’s a…modern interpretation. I thought Will would like it.”

She clasps her hands together, delighted. “He’ll love it. You’ll have to show him when he gets back home.” There’s a pause, and she looks at you knowingly. “Jonathan is inside. I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

You hurry into the house, ducking into the bathroom to check yourself in the mirror. Your hair falls in waves around your bare shoulders. You wear a tiny black witch hat on a headband, and it matches your short black skirt. You look down at your sparkling purple flats, suddenly hoping that Jonathan doesn’t think you look slutty.

“Jon?” You call to cover up your own nervousness. No answer, but you’ve been to the house more than enough times to know your way to his room. You knock gently on the door. “J? It’s Y/N…”

When he still doesn’t answer, you open the door gingerly. You’d been in this room plenty of times as a kid, but not in the last few years. It’s meticulously clean, the bed neatly made and the curtains drawn. The only messy part of the room is his desk, scattered with photographs of all sizes. You flip one of them over, curious. It’s of his little family, holding carved pumpkins that match their grins. It must’ve been last year, you think: Will has shot up like a rocket. You put it down to exchange it for another one. This one is of two beautiful girls. You know one of them as Nancy Wheeler but you’re not sure about the other one.

You continue looking through photographs, admiring their beauty but seeing nothing that really piques your interest. Then you find one near the bottom that stops you cold. It’s of another girl, but this one isn’t posed—it looks like it was taken outside of a window. The girl inside has her back to the camera. She’s undressing. Your stomach drops. Why would Jonathan have a picture like this? Who is she? You feel an unnatural twinge of jealousy until you recognize the curtains framing the shot. You only know of one person who has curtains with such a garish, 70’s-style floral print. It’s you. You turn over the photograph next to this disturbing shot and come face to face with yourself. It’s another candid one, this one taken outside of school. You’re reading a book. It seems innocent enough, but what about the other one?

You jump right out of your skin as the door opens. “Jesus, Y/N!” Jonathan looks just as astonished as you feel. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Uh, you told me to come over around five…”

He runs a hand through his hair, jaw clenched. “Yeah…guess I did…”

“Where were you?”

“Developing photos in the basement.” He holds them up for you to see—then suddenly pulls them back toward his chest. “Just…just boring ones. Nothing you’d wanna see.”

“Bullshit.” He looks up at you, startled. Wordlessly, you hold up the picture of you undressing. His mouth drops open for a second.

“Y/N, I can explain that…”

“Can you? I’d love to hear it.”

He runs a hand through his hair again, almost dropping the pictures he has in his arms. “Look, I…I really like you, okay? I have for years. You’re just so…” He pauses, giving you a once-over.

So what? You think. But there are more pressing matters at hand. “And you just thought taking a picture like this, without my knowledge, was okay? Are you…stalking me?”

“What? No, I’m not stalking you. I’m not crazy, Y/N. I was just out in the woods one day…it was a little after Will had disappeared, I was looking for him…and I saw you. And I just couldn’t help myself. You were just…” He reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear, but you smack his hand away.

“I wanna see those photos you just developed.”

“Y/N…”

You practically tear them from his hands. They’re all of you. You at the library, you in your pajamas…you taking a shower. You feel your insides twisting into a fantastic pretzel shape. “Jon, what the fuck?”

“I know you like me too.” His tone changes suddenly, throwing you for yet another loop. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, Y/N. And all these photos…these were private, just for me. No on else was going to see them.”

You stare at him for a moment. “That doesn’t make any of this okay, J! I…I have to go. I need some time to think.” He slams the door shut before you can even take a step. “Let me go, Jon.”

“Y/N…can we just talk about this? Sit down, have a talk?”

“No!” You feel tears prick your eyes. You’re so overwhelmed… “I just wanna go home.”

Jonathan sighs like a tired parent, taking your arm and guiding you toward the bed. You don’t resist, knowing it won’t do you much good at this exact moment. You both sit down and he runs a hand tenderly along your spine. “You like me too, don’t you, Y/N?”

You refuse to look at him. “I did.”

“Well, this is great then.” He laughs but it’s clearly forced. “We both like each other, so—”

“What you did was wrong,” you interrupt. “I want all of those pictures burned.”

“What? I’m not gonna burn them.” He brushes his thumb down your cheek, catching a stray tear as it falls. “They’re precious to me. Just like you.”

You can tell he’s being sincere. How does he not realize how wrong all of this is? “C-can I go now?”

“No, wait a minute.” He pulls you closer and you immediately stiffen. “Knowing you like me back…oh Y/N….” Without warning he kisses you full on the lips. You can’t help but pay attention to how it feels—you had wanted this for such a long time. His lips are soft, almost like you imagine a child’s would be. One hand is still on your back while the other tangles itself in your hair. You’re so distracted you almost forget to push him away. Almost.

“I-I don’t like you anymore!”

He smiles gently. “I bet I could make you like me again.”

You take that as your moment to leap off the bed, making a mad dash for the door. Jonathan tackles you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “No!” You scream as loud as you can, hoping a neighbor or someone will hear you. He flips you over so you’re on your back, putting a hand over your mouth.

“Shhhh, Y/N, it’s okay…I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t scream, okay? Be good and quiet for me?” You squirm under him but God, is he strong…how is he so strong? He reaches into a drawer in his desk, pulling out a long length of fabric. A tie. He’s so gentle as he ties it around your head, even as you kick and try to scream through the gag. You know what he’s planning and you do not want to be here for it. “Now.” He kisses your forehead. “You want this too, don’t you, Y/N?”

You shake your head vehemently, struggling as he pins your arms down. “I know you do.” He brushes his nose against yours. “My Y/N. I’m doing all this cause I love you, okay?” While one hand keeps your arms pinned above your head (how is he so strong?) the other snakes beneath your skirt. You kick as well as you can, trying to throw him off. He cups you carefully, rubbing your clit with a feather light touch. You try not to react but it’s impossible. In spite of your brain’s best efforts, you’re wet. Jonathan’s eyes light up. “You’re going to enjoy this, sweetheart. I promise.”

He continues working on your clit, eventually moving your panties aside. You gasp as he puts two fingers inside you. You don’t know how he’s so good at what he’s doing—he’s too shy to have tried this with anyone else. And you hate it, you tell yourself. You hate it. You hate him. It doesn’t matter how he’s spreading you wide and making your hips buck. He looks you in the eye and you’re terrified of what you see there—pitch darkness. “You like this, baby?” You scream “fuck you” around the gag and he actually looks hurt. He removes his fingers, bringing them to his mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to see him lick your essence off. “If I let your wrists go, will you be good? I can do so much more for you that way.” He grabs your chin, squeezing uncharacteristically hard, forcing you to look at him. “I know you can be good for me. I don’t wanna have to hurt you. Okay?” Your breaths are shallow and fast, your eyes wider than saucers. He releases you and you immediately start hitting and scratching at whatever parts of him you can reach. He sighs like a teacher who’s had to discipline a student one too many times.

Jonathan catches your wrist in his hand, twisting it into an unnatural position that makes you gasp. “I’ll break it.” His tone is flat, emotionless. “Do you want me to do that?” A tiny “no” leaves your lips. “Then put your hands by your head and keep them there.” He looks at you almost sadly, brushing your hair out of your face. “I don’t know why you’re fighting me. We’ve both wanted this for so long.”

You want to scream to the moon and tell him exactly why, but you know it wouldn’t do any good. The man is goddamn CRAZY, you’re sure of that. All you can think to do now is ride this out and hope he doesn’t kill you when it’s over.

You shudder as you hear him unzip his jeans. He pulls out his cock gingerly, as if even he isn’t 100% sure what to do with it. He gives you a reassuring smile, pulling your skirt and panties down to your knees. You don’t bother trying to stop the tears as they flow freely down your cheeks, wetting your hair. He kisses your nose tenderly. “Don’t worry, I have condoms.” You’re surprised at how much relief that brings you. At least, you think as you watch him roll one on, you won’t have to worry about carrying his baby after this. Although he’d probably like that…you shiver.

Sparks fly as he pushes in. You can feel every inch of him inside you, and it feels…good? No, you chide yourself immediately. Fuck him. You’re not going to cum from this. Your cervix, however, disagrees. As he thrusts in and out (gently, giving you time to catch your breath), you see blackness at the corners of your eyes. You’re going to pass out, you think, and what a relief that would be… But you don’t pass out. You feel every aching minute, every ounce of pain and pleasure, until finally you know you’re close. Jonathan notices this too, damn him. “You’re almost there, aren’t you sweetie? I am too. God, just thinking about you brings me to the edge. You’re just so—” He cuts off as he explodes inside you. Thank the good lord for condoms. His hand drops to your clit, touching and flicking till you can’t stand it anymore. With a whine so piteous it’s embarrassing, you come. Jonathan talks you through it, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and stroking your hair.

When you come down from your high, you’re still sobbing. You realize you never stopped. Jonathan gently removes the gag, massaging the corners of your mouth. “You did so good for me, sweetness. God, I love you. You’re so…”

“Let me go,” you whisper, and he acts like this is a new thing.

“Oh yeah, of course, baby.” He lets you stand and redress. “Oh, one more thing.” You turn to him, recoiling as a flash nearly blinds you. He’s taken another picture. “Happy Halloween, Y/N. I’ll see you soon."

[kidcataldo]

Summary: Severus has a secret created by a lie. Now that lie is dead and the secret is on its way to Hogwarts.

I haven’t read the books since high school, but I just went on a harry potter movie binge and wrote this in my drafts for the fun of it. You can also find it here, or you can click “keep reading” and read it on tumblr.

Dead. He received the letter by owl over breakfast: "I regret"—I regret—"to inform you her state of mind has only gotten worse these past few months and it is expected she will die before nightfall." Malfoy thought he might like to know—how he found out, Severus hadn't a clue—but he had little interest in the matter; he preferred to forget her existence altogether. Beryl Bulstrode, ghastly woman: she joined the Death Eaters right after him—for him, in fact, he was told later. Her intentions were as clear as day to any seeing man, so Severus must have been blind his entire life and not realized it. She was a mad woman in her prime; he could only imagine what the Dementors created while she rotted in Azkaban all those years. Nothing pretty, and she entered looking horrid. Would he tell Dumbledore? Yes, of course he would—but nothing more.

Malfoy must have also told his son, for the entire school looked at him differently that day. He caught a group of third year Ravenclaw girls talking quietly amongst themselves on their way to the dining hall—they fell silent when he caught sight of their gossiping, and then they hurried away when he approached them. Minerva could barely look at him while Pomona kept sneaking glances at him. And his students were unusually quiet too. The misfits and troublemakers kept to themselves, hardly causing any ruckus at all. The Wesley twins in particular behaved uncharacteristically that day—obeying his every instruction, not attempting to blow up their potions for the joke of it, even referring to him as sir instead of professor, or not acknowledging him at all. It was quite nice, actually.

By dinner, everyone must have known. Sybill Trelawney was the only one brave enough to speak to him about it; he sat through a long ramble of hers throughout dinner, pretending not to hear her, as other professors and some students watched on in horror. Minerva tried to shut her up a few times, but the daft woman never caught on; "Oh, Severus, to lose a loved one so dear to one's heart," the loony woman said to him. "I can only imagine what that boy of yours is going through." The boy. It was always about the bloody boy. Albus's eyes briefly searched his own, and then Sybill was back to her babbling.

---

"You must tell the boy, Severus," said Albus. He was sitting in his chair. Phineas Nigellus's portrait hung above him, looking on as he reached for his bowl of sherbet lemons and offered one to Severus.

Severus shook his head and quickly turned away. "No," he said. "No—you've asked plenty from me already..."

"They may suspect something if you don't."

"And if they do?" said Severus. He turned back to the headmaster; his calm demeanor hadn't shifted, but the portrait above him was now empty. "Your plan was ridiculous from the start—it's a wonder how we've gotten this far without anyone realizing..."

Albus sighed. "If Lucius Malfoy, or anyone else, were to discover—" He stopped quickly at the sound of footsteps, and then they heard a quick knock on his door. "Come in," he said, turning his attention to the door.

Minerva entered the room with the confidence of a group of centaurs riding off to battle—or a strict transfiguration professor in need of a word with her superior—but she stopped and hesitated upon seeing Severus standing there. Again, as she had done throughout the day, she avoided looking at him. His past had odd ways of creeping up on the both of them.

"Yes, Minerva?" asked Albus calmly, bringing the attention back onto himself. Severus excused himself quietly just as Minerva announced the restoration of the girls' bathroom to its former glory, and then continued by questioning the whereabouts of that nasty troll. Severus was nearly out the door when Albus politely silenced Minerva and halted his departure. "Tell the boy, Severus," he said, and Severus slammed the door shut. That bloody boy.

---

How long had it been, he wondered, since they had seen each other last? Summer, perhaps. But he never kept track, nor did he care to do so. "Must you always mess with that thing?" The boy sat on his knees at the head of the table with Severus's enchanted red quill in his hands, attempting to tame the magical object; the more he tried to control it, the more it resisted his touch. With the wave of Severus's wand, it was out of the boy's grimy little hands and back in its holder. "It doesn't like you. Leave it alone."

He turned, his brown eyes showing no new change in emotion. "You're here."

"I am." Mrs. Cott let out a gentle snore in the rocking chair near the fire. He thought, or rather hoped, she had died and had been rotting there upon first entering the room—and to be perfectly honest, what a pity it was to learn that was not the case. Large wooden knitting needles moved mechanically in front of her, working tirelessly on a grey and green sweater.

He waved his wand again and the needles fell onto the old woman's lap. The old woman jolted awake with a loud snort. She remained still for a long moment, blinking her eyes and tasting her lips to adjust to her new wakeful state, until she caught sight of Severus and sprung out of her chair, letting the needles and unfinished sweater fall to her feet. "Severus, you're—well, I wasn't expecting you so soon."

"You're paid to watch him while I'm away, Mrs. Cott," he reminded her stiffly, "not lounge around like you're on holiday."

Her eyes searched the room, and then outside where it was dark. "Is it the holiday season already? So soon?"

"Leave us now," he commanded, again facing the boy. "I need a word with the boy alone." Her quiet footsteps hurried off through the kitchen door.

"What's happened?" the boy said. His hair was dark auburn, nearly brown—not like it was a few years ago. "Did Dumbledore die?" And those eyes, ordinary and brown, were far from exceptional. He had a mole below his left eye, just above his cheek. He looked and acted simply ordinary, like no one he had ever seen before.

"What makes you think that?"

He shrugged. "I dunno." His words were also never snarky, never trying to resist Severus's authority. But he was annoying with his questions, and he was hardly ever satisfied with the answers given to him. "You don't usually come back so soon, unless there's an emergency."

"Dumbledore did not die," he said. It seemed he always spoke in riddles with him—never quite finding the nerve to lie, just alter the truth.

"But someone did?" And he always seemed to catch on. "Who was it, then?"

Severus huffed. "The woman you call mother," he said, hoping he would understand.

"Oh," said the boy. He adjusted himself on the chair, sitting properly with his feet under the table. There was parchment in front of him and on it was scribbled a drawing—Severus couldn't make out what it was; it looked something like a figure. In the kitchen, Mrs. Cott could be heard moving pots and pans around, or something of that sort.

"Accio, pen," muttered Severus, summoning a normal, non-magical pen. "Here," he said, tossing it onto the table. "Finish your silly drawing. And don't even think about using my quill again." He turned to leave, apparate the hell out of there—back to Hogsmeade, back to Hogwarts.

"Was she also a Slytherin," he asked suddenly, and he turned back to him. "Beryl Bulstrode?" The woman he called mother.

"Yes."

"Do you think I'll be a Slytherin?"

"I doubt it," Severus said to him, and he apparated away.

A week later, he received a letter from the Ministry, asking about funeral arrangements—as if he owned the damn corpse. "The boy ought to see her be buried," Albus's voice rang in his ears. "It might give him closure." Severus hoped to burn the body; in front of the current Minister and all his minions, even. They all believed the boy was born in Azkaban—that was why he was so small and weak and fragile, they said; the Dementors drained both mother and son's soul for several months before it was discovered she was with child. Dumbledore and Bagnold knew the truth, of course—but they would take that truth to their graves.

Again, upon Albus's request, he visited the boy and prepared him for the woman he called mother's funeral. Severus, the boy, Mrs. Cott, and Dolores Umbridge, who worked close to the Minister were the only people in attendance at her funeral. She had other family—distant cousins, aunts and uncles—but none Severus was close to, and they never wrote asking to attend. When they arrived at the gravesite, the boy ran off to search the graveyard, leaving Severus alone with Mrs. Cott and Umbridge—the two most unpleasant women in the wizarding world. The boy returned before the closed—thankfully—casket made its descent with a handful of wild flowers, all uniquely styled, and placed them on top of the casket. Umbridge did not stay long; she offered her deepest condolences with a phony, sympathetic smile, briefly touched the boy's shoulder, which he shrugged away, and then left. Severus apparated soon after.

---

Winter came and it went. And by the end of the year, everyone seemed to put the Beryl Bulstrode business behind them, for other events surrounding the school distracted them. Students started behaving like themselves around him again, Minerva was no longer hesitant to speak with him, Sybill no longer tried talking to him during dinner; all seemed well, given the circumstance. And then it was summer, and the boy could not keep his mouth shut about Hogwarts, no matter how many times Severus told him to shut up. He wore the green and grey sweater vest Mrs. Cott knitted for him nearly every day; perhaps expecting to be sorted into Slytherin. Severus, of course, knew better. When his letter arrived one expected morning over breakfast, he made Mrs. Cott take him to get his supplies the next afternoon. Severus stayed behind to read a book. He arrived back with new robes, a wand, and a grey furry fat cat he named Gravy—a parting gift from Mrs. Cott, much to Severus's dismay. His books had yet to come in, however, so with great reluctance, before the start of the new school year, Severus took the boy back to Diagon Alley.

It was there he saw him, standing with the Weasleys, looking as filthy as a Weasley, and the Granger girl, along with her muggle parents. Gilderoy Lockhart was there as well, looking more doll than man—Severus felt his blood boil; why Albus chose him of all people, he would never understand. He could feel them all staring, but he refused to acknowledge any of them. "I thought he only came out of his coffin during the school year," he overheard one of the Weasley twins whisper to the other; Severus chose to ignore their snickering, but made a mental note to assign them both detention their first day back.

While he waited for the boy to retrieve his books, Severus found himself tangled in a brief conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Granger as Hermione Granger looked on with a mixture of embarrassment and concern on her face. Potter and Weasley observed the conversation as well, but their eyes were daggers; he decided to assign two more detentions at the start of the school year. Finally, Mr. Weasley guided the muggles elsewhere. Lucius Malfoy and his son arrived shortly after, looking on at the group with as much hate as Severus, but the boy had returned with his books before anything could develop beyond a courteous hello. But Severus noticed Draco give the boy a nod and a gentle smile as they passed him to leave the shop.

He wish he could say the start of the new school year was as smooth as the last, or the one before that, but the famous Harry Potter could not allow that to happen. He was proving to be more and more like his father each year, unfortunately. He was told he and Weasley didn't even board the train at platform nine-and-three-quarters—choosing to arrive by car instead—and at the start of the feast, before the first years were even sorted, he received word from Filch about Potter and Weasley's fashionable entrance, diving into the whomping willow head first in a blue Ford Anglia, a car belonging to Weasley's own father. The Evening Profit arrived soon after, and it was worse than Severus could have imagined. They both should have been expelled for their foolish behavior, and any normal boy would, but the Boy Who Lived always did have special privileges at Hogwarts, and everywhere else too—if Lockhart's story over staff breakfast had any merit. And if Albus was indeed correct about... his return, perhaps it was better Potter remained at Hogwarts, under his watchful eye.

A migraine blossomed while shouting at the pair and, by the time Minerva and Albus arrived, he was fuming. He stormed out with Albus following close behind, leaving Minerva to tend to their needs—they had missed the feast; if it were him, he might just let them starve, but Minerva conjured up some sandwiches the house elves made earlier that evening.

---

"The boy's sorting has surprised us all," said Albus, sounding slightly amused. They were walking the halls now; Severus had calmed some, but his blood still boiled. On their journey, they encountered a group of Slytherin first years being guided to their house's common room—coming at no surprise, the boy was not among them.

"Why? We knew he would be sorted into Gryffindor," said Severus casually as he nodded to the first year students. Albus gave them a gentle wave.

"He wasn't sorted into Gryffindor, Severus," said Albus—and Severus stopped, letting the first years pass.

He waited until they turned the corner before he asked, "Where exactly did the sorting hat put him?"

Severus had just always assumed he would be sorted into Gryffindor—with Potter and... the rest of them. He never really saw the boy as anything else; he never really cared to think of him as anything but a Gryffindor. "Florus Snape, son"—Severus flinched at the word while Albus remained unfazed—"of Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, was sorted into Hufflepuff this evening," said Albus. And he chuckled softly to himself. "I wish you were there to witness Pomona's reaction. She nearly flew out of her chair."

Somehow the man's words made him feel better, slightly less angry. Severus said his farewells to Dumbledore, and then quickly turned his heel and headed in the same direction as the Slytherin first years. He wasn't relieved, no. He never lingered on what house the boy might get into; he didn't know him well enough to do so, but he assumed it would be Gryffindor. Why should he care what house the boy was sorted in? Gryffindor, Hufflepuff... he was still—he still wasn't... It made no difference at all.

"You can't stay out here," said Draco Malfoy's voice clearly as he drew close to the Slytherin common room. "You have to go back to your own common room."

Severus turned another corner just as he heard Vincent Crabbe say, "Maybe the sorting hat was wrong."

"Not likely," said Pansy Parkinson.

"Look. It's not like Hufflepuff is a bad house—well, it's not good, but at least you're not in Gryffindor," continued Malfoy, "with Potter... and the Weasleys."

Malfoy and his gang stood outside the portrait of the serpent. "What's going on here? Why are you in the halls passed hour?" he said, and then he saw him, dressed in his Hufflepuff robes, eyes red and puffy from crying—he rarely witnessed the boy cry; he sniffed as Severus approached him. "Ten points from Hufflepuff—get back to your common room. Now."

"He's upset he's not in Slytherin," explained Draco. Severus glared at him, which made his eyes go wide in shock and he quickly added, "Sir."

"I'm sorry, sir," the boy cried out as he rubbed his watery eyes.

Severus felt a slight pain in his gut as he grabbed the boy by his wrist and pulled him away from the group. "That doesn't excuse your behavior." The pain in his gut only grew stronger as he stared into those unfamiliar glossy brown eyes, and he found himself loosening his grip on him. "Would you quit your incessant whining. Your mother wouldn't care which house you were sorted in. Slytherin, Hufflepuff, you could be in Ravenclaw and it still wouldn't matter to her."

The boy stopped crying. Looking up at Severus, he sniffed. "Really?"

And Severus realized his mistake immediately; he let go of the boy's wrist. "Yes, really," he said, reverting back to his sternness. "Now go. Before I take another ten points from Hufflepuff."

[klaus-is-the-real-number-1]

The Light Behind Your Eyes (slytherin!Five x slytherin!reader)

A/N: sooo i had a different idea originally but liked this one more because,,, i dunno,, ill probably keep the other one as a draft but it probably wont get posted!!!! hope this is what you wanted.

Request: Omg could you write a Slytherin!five x Slytherin!reader fic? If you’re not too busy that is. I just love Hogwarts and would die to see that dynamic power dou!!

Words: 2893

“Just focus, it’s not that difficult.”

It was difficult though, the patronus charm was one of the hardest spells to master and even some of the greatest witches and wizards can’t produce one. Yet, for some utterly strange reason, you were expected to be able to cast one. You couldn’t even cast an incorporeal patronus so they gave you a tutor, a sixth year prefect, Five.

Five was the year above, he was one of the strictest prefects you had ever met and the smartest person you could think of. In all the time Five had been in Hogwarts he’d never let his grades drop and had never let anyone or anything distract him, cunning and ambitious, you could tell exactly why he was placed in Slytherin. You, on the other hand, had no clue why you were placed in Slytherin, you couldn’t see yourself as ambitious, cunning or resourceful. It was like you were a puzzle piece that on first glance appeared to fit but the piece is slightly misshaped and distorted.

Faint rumours about Five would drift across the school like the ghosts that lurk in every corner. You had heard tales of how powerful he was, all the duels he’d won, all the advanced classes he took and yet he was here with you, desperately trying to get you to succeed. He was only trying to help you so he could add it to his already huge list of things that he’s done for his head boy application.

“If it’s so easy then you do it.” Turning angrily to face him, you crossed your arms as he looked down on you. He was meant to tutor yet he hadn’t even shown you once how to do the spell.

He huffed. “I’m not the one who needs a tutor to cast a simple spell, y/n. Why should I have to do it?” You observed as he stepped back, crossing his arms to mimic yours.

“You should have to do it because you’re meant to be tutoring me, how can I do the spell if you’re not going to show me how!” You just kept getting more angry as the seconds went on, for how smart Five was meant to be he didn’t have any people skills. He was avoiding eye contact with you, opening and closing his mouth, searching for an answer as you just looked at him expectantly.

“It’s,” you thought for just a moment, Five was about to open up to you, allow you to see into his mad world that he kept to himself. “It’s nothing, I’ve got a head cold right now, it’s difficult to concentrate on casting spells. Let’s just call it a day and I’ll see you in a week at the same time. Practice when you can, It’d be nice to see an improvement.” And with that you grabbed your robe that goes over your jumper and pushed past him, muttering a small ‘whatever’ as you passed him. No matter how great of a wizard he may be, it didn’t deter from the fact that he was a bit of a dick.

Heading back to the common rooms you take a minuet just to think about Five, during your years at Hogwarts you can’t remember a time when you saw him genuinely laugh or smile, he’s always been so uptight since the day you met him when he was a second year and you’d just been sorted into Slytherin.

“Y/n!” Heavy footsteps reverberated off the walls, getting closer. You turn just in time to see Five stop short of a couple of paces in front of you. “If you’re really serious about learning the patronus charm, meet me before breakfast and then after we can go to the library.” You both started walking in the direction of the common room. “and once we’re there we can so some proper research and actually get this spell down and done with.” 

“Sure.” He looked relieved at your response, Five began to fully tell you his plan of action with doing the full research to be able to grasp the true meaning of the spell. You listened intently to his plan, humming to what he was saying. You say the password to the common room while Five continued to talk. 

When you reached the corridor to the girls dorms you turn to face Five and give him a smile. “Night Five, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night y/n, don’t forget 07:30 A.M tomorrow morning down here.” Five gave you a small smile and walked away to the other corridor and began to walk up the stairs, not before turning to give you a small smile. Maybe spending time with Five wouldn’t be as bad as you thought.

In the library, you had stacks of books laid in front of you, any books even containing the word patronus were on the table with you and Five scanning through. You had been going through books for about an hour, only revising information you already knew.

“What’s the most rebellious thing you’ve ever done at Hogwarts?” You ask as you push the book you were currently reading. Five was one of the most well know students but no one knew anything about him at all. 

“I’m not very rebellious, I think the worst thing I’ve done is that I was 2 minuets late to a class once.” He copied your actions by pushing his respective book away from him and leant back in his seat. “You?”

You wondered how much you could actually tell him, he was a prefect after all. “I don’t know, I like to teach myself spells before lessons or just silly spells that we wont get taught.” You say matter-o-factly. You watch as Five examined your face, knowing that you were hiding something. “What, don’t you believe me?” Sarcastically acting shocked, you placed a hand over your heart.

Five rolled his eyes. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just that I’ve heard rumours about you, that’s all.” You looked at him expectantly. “You know that you’ve got an illegal magical creature cartel or that once you broke into the professors lounge, stole alcohol and then sold it at high prices to the 7th years.” 

You chuckle at what Five had said, the alcohol ‘rumour’ was true and to say the least it was one of your proudest achievements within the school. “If I confirm any of those rumours will you grass on me?” Five shook his head. “It was me with the alcohol. I would just like to confirm that I definitely do not have any form of cartel.” Five smirks, you both ask questions back and forth until it was time for you both to go off for lessons. You both agree that you would try casting the spell the next day and you went your separate ways, smile on both your faces. 

It had been a few days since you and Five had been meeting up to learn how to cast a patronus. However, it’d always end up with you two just sitting and talking for a few hours until it’s time to go to lessons or time to go back to the dorms. Five had really come out of his shell even if it was only to you, it was a new side to Five that hadn’t been seen before and it was nice.

One thing you were especially good at is care for magical creatures, you were always helping Hagrid out with ‘out of curriculum’ tasks. Every Wednesday night you’d sneak out and go to the forbidden forrest and care for a few creatures that needed some extra help. You’d been doing this since second year and now Hagrid left you too it, he knew you treat them well and you wouldn’t get caught. There were some rare creatures you cared for, not to mention some illegal and ‘dangerous’ creatures but you knew they wouldn’t hurt a fly.

But you had gotten lazy when sneaking out, forgetting to check behind you and cover your tracks. You were at the entrance of the forbidden forrest, waiting for 5 minuets before entering to make sure no one was around but you felt a hand get placed on your shoulder.

“Y/n,” It was Five, he knelt down next to you. “What are you doing here, you know you shouldn’t be out of dorms.” You were glad it was only Five but it didn’t stop you from being mad.

“What are you doing here, why did you follow me if you knew you’re not allowed out?” You stared at him expectantly. You sighed “Are you coming then?”

“Where?” Five asked, you just grabbed his hand and kept low as you head into the forest. Five never argued against it or asked any questions. As you reached the clearing you go to every Wednesday, you grab your wand and muttered a quite ‘lumos’ illuminating the opening. You were deep into the forest and knew that the light couldn’t be seen from the castle. 

You drop the bag you were carrying that contained various meat and bread to feed the creatures you cared for. You pass your wand to Five for him to hold.

“Y/n, what are we doing-” But you shush him as you could hear steps getting closer, you see him visibly tense and go to grab his wand. Gently, you place a hand on his arm and shake your head before reaching down into your bag to get a piece of bread out. 

There she was, a thestral, you’d been looking after her for 3 years now, when you first met her she had a badly damaged wing and couldn’t take off the ground properly but now she was flourishing, she comes back every Wednesday to see you. Today however, she’d brought along her foal, you knelt down so you were height level with the foal and gently offered it some bread.

Stepping back, you turn to look at Five and take in his gobsmacked expression as he eyed the large creatures. “Aren’t- aren’t they classes as extremely dangerous?” You scoffed at his question.

“Do they look dangerous to you?” You went over to him and took back your wand and took his hand, leading him towards the two thestrals. “Come on, I’ll show the others, don’t worry, it’s safe. I’ve been doing this for years.” He didn’t seem to believe you but he let you drag him towards the beautiful creatures, you take his hand that has yours held in a death-grip and place it on the thestrals head. 

You let go of Five and step back, watching him relax as he stroked her head. You pat her on the back as she knelt down to allow you to climb on, you nudge Five to get on behind you. Cautiously he sat behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Brace yourself.” Then you were in the air, soaring away out of the grounds, over the lake and the forests, reaching the stars and beyond. Fives grip loosened around your waist as he looked around in the air, he’d never seen anything so beautiful.

Five was glad he made the decision to go after you them few days ago, he was glad he was assigned as your tutor. He was sick of being boring, sick of just being known as a strict prefect. The real reason he didn’t cast a patronus is because he just didn’t have a good enough memory to be able to conjure one but he wanted to change that and tonight, he was.

Far too quickly you came to a soft landing, you both jumped off before giving the thestrals a soft pat. You let them lead ahead, following them to the rest of the magical creatures you looked after and cared for throughout your time at Hogwarts. The place they were leading you to was a large opening with a small lake, even at the dead of night it was softly lit by various creatures with a gentle buzz from the animals that inhabited it. 

“What is this place?” Five was shocked, looking round with large eyes. He was taking in the picture that was in front of him.

“Heaven.” You led Five forward, giving him some snacks to feed the creatures with. The small pups came running towards you first, excited to see what foods you’ve brought them this week. There were crups and kneazles, puffskeins and snidgets. Five then saw Griffins and more thestrals, he couldn’t believe his eyes, all these creatures in one place with not a single one fighting or trying to attack him. Everything he’d ever been told about these creatures was wrong, he was wrong about them.

“Everything in here is protected,” You explain, picking up a crup pup. “I taught myself the Protego Maxima, Fianto Duri and Repello Inimicum charms and use them on this area so only people who travel through on the thestrals can see whats inside, mainly because they know where to go as you can’t see whats inside.” You continue to give love to the crup held in your arms as other creatures make their way over. “People hunt and abuse these animals, I don’t want them to get hurt, they don’t deserve it. There’s some endangered creatures here, so I like to make sure they’re ok.” 

Five took a seat next to you, accepting the creatures rubbing against him for attention. You finish dishing out the various snacks and treats to the creatures of the magical world, it was time for you to go back to Hogwarts, you beckon Five back over to the thestral and begin your journey back.

Once reaching the castle grounds you had sneak back into the castle unnoticed, this was the first time you had to get two people back in. You decide the best way of getting back in is to go through the secret passage at the back end of the school, luckily for you, you had acquired the marauders map and were able to see where everyone was at that current time. It was an easy route in that night, you both simply sipped back into the common room.

Just before you turned to walk up to your dorm Five grabbed your arm. “Thank you y/n, for letting me come with you. Sit with me tomorrow at breakfast tomorrow and then straight after we can finally crack the patronus?” You just nodded your head at Five and gave him a smile. A part of you didn’t want to be able to cast the patronus so you could continue spending time with him, in almost a week you’d seen a complete opposite side to Five than the rumours suggested. Five had been acting differently recently as well, being an overall kinder person hadn’t gone unnoticed by professors and students alike.

Five laid in his bed, unable to sleep from the nights events. He couldn’t believe he waited that long to get to know y/n, he can’t believe how boring his time at Hogwarts used to be. In them few days of knowing y/n, Five had had the most fun and interesting time. Not to mention y/n’s way with magical creatures, how much she actually cared for them and she let Five see that side, see her ‘heaven’ as y/n put it. Five hoped that she wouldn’t actually be able to cast the patronus so he could just be with her more. He hoped that after tonight he would finally be able to cast one as well.

The next morning, you were stood in an empty classroom with Five, watching closely as he was about to cast his patronus. You watch his shaking hands as he took a defensive stance, you didn’t know what his patronus could be but then he said the spell.

A silver otter burst from the end of his wand, it slid through the air playfully before dissipating in the air. “An otter?” Five seemed almost disappointed with his patronus. 

“An otter represents playfulness and being relaxed, god knows you’ve hid that well.” You joked cheekily joked, nudging his arm. “I guess it’s my turn, innit?” Sighing you turn to the side, allowing for room for whatever patronus would appear, if one would appear at all.

“ Expecto Patronum!” A white light shoots from your wand, through the light a giant thestral galloped graciously, turning towards you, circling you before disappearing. You look at the space where the beautiful beast stood and then turned to look at Fives gobsmacked face. “I did it!” You embraced Five, almost knocking him off his feet.

“You did it.” He sounded almost breathless in his response. He didn’t sound too pleased about it though.

You stepped back. “You don’t sound too happy about it, you actually managed to get me to do it.” 

“Well now that you’ve done it, I don’t need to tutor you any more.” He looked sad, at a stretch you could say devastated.

“I’m still going to hang round with you even if you don’t need to tutor me anymore. You’re pretty good craic to be honest, I’d like to keep that around.”  Five smiled to your response, glad not to be losing a quick found friend. Maybe the rest of your time at Hogwarts wouldn’t be so bad.

[hphm-etched-engraved-everlasting]

8. Em

Author’s Note/Table of Contents

Barnaby Lee was no stranger to me--especially since he's described so often now as Clara's sweetheart.

I mean, that was the most I could call him, right? I wasn't sure if he and Clara were really a confirmed couple, but I did know that they were fond of each other either way, the way his eyes always lit up whenever he told me about her and vice versa. Interacting with Slytherins before him made me put my guard up more than I'd like, but being friends with Hillary really showed that not all Slytherins were that bad after all. He had a kind heart, and he always came by with sweets--a good sign that he cared so much about me because he cared a lot about her.

At least to me, he's a good friend. That's enough for me.

And speaking of my sister...well, she turned into a blushing mess the minute we stepped onto the Training Grounds, walking right over to where Barnaby and Badeea were painting on big square canvases sitting atop their easels. I could see her face turn crimson as we approached them, and I had to drag her over to them with my hand firm over her wrist.

I suppose she had it really hard for him after all.

"Hey, Clara!" he greeted her with a wave. "Hey, Em!"

He stepped aside then to reveal his canvas, where a single Bowtruckle was standing in the middle of some blue and white space on the canvas, a huge smile on its face. I almost cooed in awe at the sight of it--I had always wanted to see a real Bowtruckle, and to see that it looked this cute really made me smile. But Clara looked like she was actually going to cry.

That was when I remembered that in her fourth year, she named a Bowtruckle after our brother, Jacob, and had felt fiercely protective of it after relocating him in the Forbidden Forest last year while studying for her OWLs.

"So, what do you think of my painting?" he asked us, a big cheeky grin on his face.

"It's...really cute," I offered, nodding thoughtfully before looking up at my sister.

"It's...special," Clara responded then, wiping away the tears that began to trickle down her face. "I mean, you painted a Bowtruckle..."

"Not just any Bowtruckle. It's Jacob the Bowtruckle!" Barnaby said enthusiastically. "I guess I got inspired from our OWLs study session last year, and he reminded me of how you helped me believe in myself." He reached over and gently wiped her tears with his thumbs, coaxing a smile out of my sister. "Hope you didn't mind, of course. You've become my muse more often nowadays."

Oh. Well. That was definitely what they meant by "sweetheart."

"I can't tell if you meant it's good or bad, Clara," Badeea finally said after a moment's silence, looking at the two of them quizzically as if trying to find the right time to break the ice.

"Exactly!" Barnaby responded. "That's what makes art so mysterious."

I simply glanced over from Barnaby's simple Bowtruckle painting to Badeea's nighttime shot of Hogsmeade--probably a little something to get her own creative juices flowing. I understood how much of a block she's had nowadays. "I wish I got a chance to appreciate art more," I murmured. "Never thought of it much after Beatrice got trapped in a portrait last year."

"I never thought you were still giving painting lessons to Barnaby, Badeea," Clara piped up, wiping her glasses now with the hem of her dress.

"Oh, of course. We just started again," Badeea explained. "Barnaby has big plans."

At that, Barnaby turned to us with a proud smile on his face. "Yeah! Over the summer, I learned what a 'Renaissance Man' is. It means knowing only a little bit about a lot of things."

It wasn't that far off the mark, I figured. The Renaissance people were all about embracing Enlightenment, and revolutionizing the culture of people through the arts and other things. I figured anyone with a Renaissance mind would want to have many talents. If Barnaby's aspiring to become one of them, I hope he succeeds.

"Where did you get that definition from?" I asked him with a knowing smile. "It sounds pretty accurate."

"Hm? I dunno, actually. Can't remember," Barnaby replied with a small frown, his face scrunched up in confusion. "I'm sure it must have been from somewhere...but anyway, I decided that I want to become a Renaissance Wizard."

I guess I could see now why Clara loved Barnaby so much. He had the ambition of a Slytherin, but he also had a huge heart and open mind. Of course, he wasn't always like this when they first started their friendship, but seeing them now made me nod and smile. I wasn't always a huge fan of romance, but this was like seeing a beautiful rose blossom before my eyes--something that isn't so cringey and gross. They were just being themselves around each other, and I could see the close bond they had, the way they interacted and smiled at each other in a touching way.

"Sounds ambitious," Clara finally remarked with an approving grin of her own, nodding and taking his hand. "I look forward to seeing how it turns out."

Barnaby nodded and kissed her on the cheek, which made her turn a brilliant shade of pink.

"Thanks, Clara."

I glanced over at Badeea now, who was trying so hard not to burst into giggles. I could relate. They were definitely sweethearts.

"So, what did you want to see me about?" Barnaby asked her then, swinging their linked hands slightly, to and fro.

"Actually, I need some advice about Ismelda," Clara ventured tentatively, her face now turning pale.

Andre warned me back in the courtyard that Ismelda was not one to mess with. Sure, he helped her confess her feelings to Barnaby, but that didn't mean he was okay with actually hanging around with her after the air was cleared. I couldn't imagine how a girl with morbid thoughts about blood and gore would want to hang out with someone who appreciated everything that lives. Of course, I didn't hear everything between Clara, Beatrice, and Ismelda back in the courtyard, but I could sense the tension between all three of them and know just how charged anyone would be if the names of those who brought them sheer discomfort was brought up in a conversation at all.

But Barnaby didn't flinch at all. Instead, he just frowned.

"She doesn't have a crush on me again, does she?" he asked her. "My schedule's quite packed with Renaissance Wizard activities. And making sure your sister's doing fine. And...well..."

"Yeah. I know. But no, she doesn't," Clara confirmed.

"I figured. We haven't been all that friendly in years."

"So...you won't give us advice?" I asked him. "I mean, if you haven't talked with Ismelda recently then we can try to talk with Merula. Even if she's been...guarded."

"No, of course I will," Barnaby promised. "But you'll have to duel me for it."

Duelling? I had no experience with duelling, let alone combative magic and spells. I turned to Clara now, who blanched even more at the prospect of raising her wand for another fight.

"Duel you for advice?" she asked meekly. "Why?"

"A Renaissance Wizard can't just stop at painting lessons," Barnaby explained. "I could use some duelling lessons, too."

"Diego gives duelling lessons," I chipped in then. "He's actually pretty powerful if I say so myself. One day he gave this Ravenclaw first-year girl a good Bat-Bogey Hex when she wouldn't shut up about the flowers in my hair."

And it wasn't a habit I always kept--I only wore tiny little sunflower clips in my hair that day because it was so sunny outside I had to match it. Apparently, some of us didn't appreciate it. I was only lucky that Diego was close by when the teasing happened, and he made her run and scream once it was all over. It was then when he said he wanted to protect me from anyone who tried to hurt me.

"True. I've seen it myself," Barnaby agreed. "But Clara was the one who duelled a Troll and a Dragon."

"Barnaby!" Badeea jumped in shock at that. "I'm sure those aren't exactly good memories for Clara. She was doing what had to be done to break the Portrait Curse."

Barnaby's face paled when Badeea told him, and he sighed, squeezing my sister's hand. "I'm sorry, Clara. We all know what you've been through."

"And little Em," Badeea reminded him. "It must be hard to imagine what her two older siblings had to go through here."

Clara nodded, glancing at me and Badeea. "Yeah, but if anything positive can come out of something negative..." She trailed off, smiling at me, and I knew what she meant. With another danger out of the way, even if I wasn't completely safe, she'd be well assured that my first year at Hogwarts would be as normal as it could get.

"Sounds like I could be getting my duelling lesson...?" Barnaby asked her, an eager grin on his face.

"All right," Clara eventually agreed. "Let's duel."

Badeea quickly brought me away from the two as they took their positions, bowing to each other before going into their ready stance. With their wands drawn, I couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated. I never saw Clara looking this bold before--not while I witnessed her with red puffy eyes and slouched frame that curled into a fetal position more than once over the summer. Then again, there was a lot to my sister that I know nothing about. She shared a stronger bond with Jacob when we were younger, after all.

When Jacob first went missing, all my parents could say was that he was taking a trip with his friends, and that he would be back soon. As the years went by, though, the image of Jacob--whatever impression he first left in my naive toddler mind--faded away from my memory. He never returned from whatever trip he took, and it lead to my parents fighting more than I was used to. My mother was badly humiliated, my father embarrassed and angry.

His gardens almost withered from the withdrawal of life that everyone felt. Her books were taken off the shelves of Flourish and Blotts to save her from the horrible reviews critics have given her.

And me? I could only do so much to help them calm down. I reminded them of the lie they told me. I tried to offer them the stuffed magical creatures I was gifted. But every day, they pulled more away from me, isolating themselves in a world where the family was forever deemed dysfunctional, incomplete, and practically irreparable. Only last summer did the truth come out, and from my older sister who saw him--probably for the last time.

Now I understood why Merula and Ben had changed so much from how Clara first saw them. The search for the Cursed Vaults had tested not only their individual abilities. They've tested the strength of their alliance with others, too--no one would dare enter the Cursed Vaults alone, after all. Rakepick chose her, Merula, and Bill Weasley as her apprentice curse-breakers for a reason.

No one imagined it would be for dragon bait.

I could see Clara cast her spells with so much force, almost like the night she was training with Merula. Barnaby still got a few chances to recover, but it was mostly Clara casting all the spells she needed. When it was finally over, she and Barnaby returned to us, Barnaby rubbing his eyes from where the handkerchief slapped him to finish off the duel.

"Wow. You sure schooled me, Clara," Barnaby remarked. "I feel I'm a better dueller already!"

"Indeed. You really are quite good, Clara," Badeea complimented with a smile.

Clara simply nodded, and I could see the steel melting from her eyes as she smiled back at the two of them. "Thank you both."

"So about Ismelda...what did you want to know?" Barnaby asked us then.

"Well, Ismelda's sort of taken Beatrice Haywood under her wing," Clara began.

"Ismelda and Penny's little sister?" Barnaby's eyes darted from me to Clara, over and over. "Odd pair."

"Beatrice had been a little lost since getting out of the painting, and her search ended up here," Clara explained. "And Penny's worried about Beatrice falling under the wrong influence. Ismelda can be rather jaded--but Ismelda is also being so protective of Beatrice that there's no getting by her."

"You must know something that can help, Barnaby," I piped up. "After all, you were with Ismelda when you and my sister first met."

"And Merula too," Barnaby recalled grimly.

"Don't get us started on Merula," Clara warned him. "She's reaching new levels of jaded."

Barnaby nodded thoughtfully, scratching his chin pensively. Then he looked up at Clara, and I thought I saw a glimmer of fondness in his eyes.

"Honestly, what helped me the most...was time with you," Barnaby stated. "I wanted friends. Everyone does. But the ones I first found were often bitter and cruel. So I often joined in, afraid to be left out--until you showed me I could have friends that didn't behave that way."

Something about Barnaby's words hit home for me. I wanted friends, too. Clara's often encouraging me to have a normal school year in her stead, with all the curse-breaking adventures she has going on. What if my flaw of being left out so much turns into a craving for company--even company with the worst folk? I just hoped Hillary wouldn't turn into a villain I had to look out for. For now, though, I could say Eunice and Travis were enough to deal with.

"So that's my best advice," Barnaby said eventually. "Spend time around Beatrice, whether Ismelda's around or not. Beatrice probably just wants to feel like she's part of something--soon she'll see that she has choices."

Beatrice didn't even have many friends to begin with, now that I thought about it. In a way, she must have had it worse than me. I looked up at Clara, who was looking at Badeea, the two of them exchanging surprised glances.

"That was so...wise," Badeea eventually managed to say.

"Rather touching, too," Clara added, her cheeks colouring a brilliant pink yet again.

"I think I can give it a go," I finally agreed. "Beatrice and I are in the same house, after all. If she could see me as a friend rather than just Penny's friend's sister, then maybe we could get somewhere with a new friendship."

Clara nodded. "You sure, though? You told me she--"

"Scared me a bit. She still does," I admitted. "But Barnaby's right. Reaching out to her might be the best option for us, and she and I are almost the same age, too. Maybe she'll understand."

Barnaby nodded at me then and smiled, handing me a Chocolate Frog box that he had in his pocket. "I hope it works out, little Em."

"And I'll head back to the Courtyard to see if Beatrice is still there," Clara offered. She smiled fondly at him before wrapping her arms around him. "Thank you, Barnaby. You just might be a Renaissance Wizard after all."

Once more, Badeea looked like she was going to dissolve in a fit of giggles, and I chuckled slightly at the sight of my sister in the arms of someone she loved and cherished.

I could truly see them being happy together. After all, they were each other's sweethearts. But would Clara still be this happy, with the possibility of a final curse still looming over the school?

[fanficimagery]

Imagine pretending to be a Muggleborn. When the Ministry, under Voldemort's control, decides to make a new law ordering all Muggleborns to marry a Pureblood, the Order is in chaos as they try to find husbands for you and Hermione. However, some select individuals are in for quite the shock when you admit to being a Pureblood.

Gen Fic X Reader

Sitting around the table at Grimmauld Place, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep quiet as the Order erupt in chaos over the latest edition of the Daily Prophet. Though it took forever for the Wizarding Community to come to terms that Voldemort was back, they were even slower on the uptake to believe that their precious government was under his control. But the Order- the Order knew better.

The war against Voldemort and his Deatheaters has been going on for a couple years now, and the psychopath finally made a move that was sure to flush out all Muggleborns. Well.. at least the females, especially two of Harry's best friends- you and Hermione.

"This is preposterous!" Molly's voice is shrill and on the verge of panicking even though the woman has nothing to worry about. She's married and her only daughter is a Pureblood. "Albus, surely you can't let them take the girls. You know this is a move to flush out Harry."

You flash Hermione a small smile, her complexion completely washed out after having read the paper herself. Ron sits next to her and you know that should you look under the table you'll find their hands clasped tightly together.

"The law is the law, sweetheart," Arthur says in the most soothing voice he can muster up. "If the girls don't find a Pureblood husband of their choosing, they'll either have to snap their wands or be paired with a Deatheater."

"Like hell they'll be getting their grubby hands on 'Mione," Ron speaks up. Everyone looks to him and the tips of his ears burn red under their scrutiny. He gulps. "I-If she'll have me, I'll marry her."

Hermione seems to sag in on herself and this time your smile blossoms. "As if she'd marry anyone else," you chuckle. "You two were fated since Third Year. Her punching Malfoy really did it for you, huh?"

Hermione hides her smile as Ron nervously chuckles. "Shut it, Y/N." But his own small smile tells you there's no bite behind his words.

"Oh, Poppet," Sirius sighs. "Is there- do you have anyone in mind that would be willing to-"

You glance at Sirius and shake your head. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"Like hell you will!" Harry explodes and everyone around the table startles. Having been closest to Harry over Ron and Hermione, Harry knows you better than everyone in the room no matter that you were a few years older than him. "You will not martyred for us, Y/N. As I see it, you have two options- Neville or Charlie."

You scoff. "Neville has eyes for Hannah and you know it, HJ. And Charlie.. I can't do that to Charlie. He's the forever bachelor. I won't be the one that makes him settle down when he doesn't want to."

"If he knew your safety was up in the air, he'd do it in a heartbeat, sweetheart," Sirius tells you and Molly nods in agreement.

Your heart aches as you stare at Sirius, but again you bite the inside of your cheek. Not yet. Shaking your head, you sigh. "No. Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

Everyone seems to explode yet again, but this time you keep your mouth shut. They're arguing over your future as if you're not even in the room and though it should upset you, it really doesn't. After all, you're the one with the secret.

Fidgeting in your seat, you glance to your right and Harry is glaring at you. You try to smile at him, but it doesn't really work and your eyes prick with tears as you try to keep up the nonchalant facade. Only then does Harry soften, he scooting closer and placing an arm around your shoulders. As you lay your head on his shoulder, you listen to the Order go on and on about their next step.

"Nevertheless," Professor McGonagall says, standing and brushing the front of her robes, "Y/N is an adult in the eyes of our Community. It is up to she to pick her husband and she has two months to decide. Unlike you lot, I believe she will make the right decision."

"Thank you, Professor."

She nods. "Well if that is all, Albus, I must really get going."

The Order is dismissed and more than half the occupants of the room take their leave. Molly huffs and puffs, but eventually Arthur ushers her back to the Burrow along with all their kids and Hermione to start planning a wedding.

You're still debating when the right time to come clean is when you see your opening. The only occupants of the kitchen are Harry, Sirius, Remus, and Tonks, and Remus soon goes to follow after Tonks when she attempts to take her leave.

"Uh, guys? Can you stay for a moment? Please." You say. "I have something to say."

Remus and Tonks come to a stop by the door, Remus then smiling politely and retaking his seat. Harry nudges you and you sit up, your heart starting to pump faster and faster. Remus' smile falters and his head tilts as he scrutinizes you. "Y/N? Are you feeling well?"

"Not really." Sighing, you push up from the table and start pacing behind the bench in which Harry sits. "I know- I know you guys are worried about what I'm going to do, but really.. your worry is all for naught."

"Y/N-"

"No! Listen. I.. I've been keeping a secret from you guys- from everyone," you tell them. Harry whirls around in his seat, his expression wounded. "And I'm sorry, I really am, but this secret has been kept since my birth. You have no idea how many times I've wanted to come clean, but I couldn't."

"Why now?" Sirius wonders. His eyes dart to his godson and you're too afraid to meet Harry's gaze again.

"Because there's no way in hell I'm going to marry someone I'm not in love with or let myself become the property of some deatheater."

Tonks huffs. "But the only way not to be married off-"

"Is to be a pureblood," Harry realizes. His eyes widen behind his spectacles as he stares at you. "You're a pureblood?"

Smiling sadly, you nod. "Yes."

Remus and Sirius both sit a little taller in their seats.

"Why the secrecy?" Tonks wonders.

"Because my mother was afraid that I'd either be killed or taken to be a deatheater in training all because of who my father was."

"Y/N, who was your father?"

You stare at Sirius, eyes pricking with tears once again. "You have to understand, I wasn't a planned pregnancy. My father only knew about the pregnancy long enough to write some journals for me to read in the future when I was old enough to understand the choices he made."

"Did he not plan to live long enough to meet you?" Harry asks.

Shaking your head, you sniffle and quickly wipe away your tears. "My father was a deatheater. From what he said in his journals, and from what my mother said before she too passed, was that he found out Voldemort's true intentions. My father was horrified and made it his mission to take down Voldemort from the inside, but he was young- so young," you hiccup on a sob, grabbing onto Harry's hand when he offers it for support, "and he paid for his mission with his life."

Tonks comes around the table and offers you a tissue, you taking it and then wrapping the tissue around your fingers once Harry lets you go. "Sweetheart, who was your mother? You name is muggle, is it not?" Tonks asks.

"I was left in the custody of my mother's sister who had forsaken her magic because she was in love with a muggle. In my mother's will it was said that I was to take my aunt's husband's muggle last name to not bring any attention on me." Pausing, you take a deep breath before saying, "My mother was Althea Thorne."

Sirius and Remus inhale sharply, but you refuse to meet their gazes. It's only a matter of time before-

"Althea," Remus breathes in awe. "But.. given your age," he shakes his head frowning. "Althea had eyes for only one wizard back then."

"Regulus," Sirius murmurs.

Harry gasps. "Y/N? Is he-"

"I'm sorry." With shaking hands, you reach up and pluck at the necklace around your neck that had been enchanted to hide one's identity. That was the sole reason it never came off. So the second it does, the occupants of the kitchen all stare in awe as your hair darkens and your eyes turn into pools of silver. Even your facial features sharpen just a bit and you straighten your spine to stand tall and proud as the pureblood witch you are. Then glancing at Sirius, you say, "Hello, Uncle."

Sirius gapes and no one dares utter a sound. The seconds slowly tick by before he pushes back his chair and makes his way towards you. The entire time his gaze never leaves you and he even reaches for you, but he pulls back at the last second. "But the tapestry," he says. "You're not on it."

"That's because as soon as Father found out about the pregnancy, he tampered with the tapestry. Would you like me to prove it?"

"Yes."

"Now wait just a moment, Sirius."

But Sirius is hearing none of it and he practically snarls at his best friend. In return Remus' eyes flare gold for just a second, but he's quick to get himself back under control. "I-I'm sorry." Tonks is quick to soothe Remus and you smile faintly at the resident werewolf.

"If this is true, Moony, I need to know," Sirius says, eyes suspiciously glassy. "If she really is my niece, then.. she's family. I- I just need to know."

"We need to go to the tapestry," you quietly admit. "The journal said I have to smear a bit of blood near my father's name. It should break the enchantment on it."

Harry jumps up from seat. "Then what are we waiting for? Lets go."

"Y-You're not mad?"

"No. Why would I be?"

"Harry," you frown. "I've kept this huge secret from you for years! How could you not be mad at me?"

He shrugs. "I dunno. I mean, I'm a bit hurt you felt like you couldn't tell me this-"

"I couldn't!"

"But you have now, so I'm just glad that Sirius has a relative that's not crazy."

That startles a laugh out of you and you accept the hug he bestows upon you. Pulling back, you then wipe your face again. "Soo.. tapestry?"

"Yes. Follow me."

Sirius leads the way and you follow immediately behind him. Harry follows you, and then Remus and Tonks behind him. You all tiptoe by Walburga's portrait and tune out Kreacher's grumbling. Soon enough, you're all in the tapestry room and your chest aches as Sirius stares at his little brother's face on the wall.

Pulling out your wand, you wordlessly slice your palm open before smearing it near the name of Regulus. Right before everyone's eyes, the tapestry updates itself. Connected to Regulus' name is your mother's and below them is your name- Y/N Black.

"It's true," Sirius numbly says.

"As if I would lie about something like this," you huff. Then meeting Sirius' shocked gaze, you sheepishly grin. "Sorry. I just- I wanted to tell you under better circumstances. I was hoping the war would have ended before I could tell you the truth."

"Why us?" Remus asks. "Why me? Tonks I could understand because she's your cousin and Harry's your uncle's godson. But me-"

"You, Remus Lupin, are family no matter what you say. And I chose you all for exactly that reason. I wanted you all to know the truth first and get used to it before it became public knowledge."

"Public knowledge? You're going to tell everyone?!" Harry says. "You can't!"

"I have to. As good looking as Charlie is, I will not marry him. And I will definitely not marry a goddamn deatheater."

"But Voldemort will make you a priority on his list. You'll be hunted down."

"Y/N, Harry's right."

"No, Uncle. I won't hear of it."

Sirius looks absolutely gobsmacked for a second that Harry actually snorts. "Been wanting to do that for a while, have you? Address him as uncle."

"You know I have. Why do you think I never bought into all that bull when Sirius escaped Azkaban? Guilty or not, he was my uncle. I so badly wanted to recognize my Black family, the good ones at least, but I couldn't. Now that I can, however-"

Remus groans. "This is going to be the worst thing to ever happen to us, isn't it? You and Sirius are going to enjoy this way too much as the others find out your identity."

Feigning innocence, you can only shrug in response. Remus, Tonks, and Harry all chuckle while Sirius looks far too pleased with the situation. There's not much left to be said so Remus and Tonks take their leave, but not before Tonks hugs the hell out of you and mentions that she's got to go tell her mum. Harry lingers for only a second before he excuses himself so all that's left is you and Sirius.

Facing your uncle, you find him staring with longing at his little brother's face on tapestry. "He left you letters. A lot of them," you quietly muse as you step forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with Sirius. “I don't know what they entail, but from what he left in the journals I read I'm pretty sure he was telling you what a big mistake he'd made. I'll give them to you when you're ready for them."

Sirius sighs. "I'd like that, niece o' mine."

Smiling softly, you peer to the side and look up. He's now looking down on you, adoration shining in his eyes. "I want to meet Andromeda before telling everyone else. In fact, why don't you tell me who we should start with. I'm not too fond of the yelling and I have a feeling Mrs. Weasley is going to be doing a lot of it."

"Of course she is," Sirius scoffs. "From the moment she saw you with the twins, she made it her life's mission to make you a Weasley. Same with Hermione."

"I never got to flaunt my father's name, so as soon as I officially reclaim my birth right I think I'm going to hang on to it for a while. If that's alright with you, dear Uncle."

"That's more than alright." His arm comes up to wrap around the back of your shoulders and you lean into his side, your head then resting on his shoulder as the two of you stare at the tapestry together. "Welcome to the family, sweetheart."

[join-the-joywrite]

Time After Time -- 8

a boy a girl a time turner

when a time turner is shattered in a small fight, it’s up to the unlikely pair to figure out how to survive until the end of the war. it’s their only shot at breaking the loop.

masterpost prev 

Chapter 8 - When Hermione died in the end

Surprisingly, Hermione and Draco both made it to the hall before Harry revealed himself.

They survived Pansy, the flood, the Fiendfyre, watching Snape's death, saving Fred and the eventual raid of the Death Eaters.

Once again, they found themselves standing at the edge of the debris, overlooking the waves.

Draco looked out to the castle, to the clock that still stood. "Five minutes. Are you sure you don't want to--"

Hermione stepped down and pulled Draco with her. "I've cheated death so many times. I won't deny that I've been selfish about it. I could've tried harder to save Lavender sooner. But I knew as long as I still failed, you'd never suspect why I kept resetting. With the flood, I could've thought of the answer too, but I kept drowning, knowing I'd soon see you again."

"Hermione, please."

"I've been selfish, Draco. Abusing the loop. Cheating death. It's a pity it took my death for you to come to me. But we've run out of time. I'll be surprised if I live past the next two minutes."

"No. I'll jump off the bridge."

Hermione tilted her head. "Then you'll have let our love be forgotten. I promised you I'd be with you forever if I survive. Promise me that if I don't, you'll live. For me."

"I can't. I can't do that. No one here would accept me the way you do."

"Then run away," Hermione pleaded, squeezing Draco's hands. "Leave the Wizarding World. Live with Muggles. Start anew. Be yourself, whoever that is, whoever you want to be. Just . . . live. For me. Please don't follow me this time."

In the square, Ginny let go of Harry after at least ten minutes.

"Since when is Malfoy even a friend?"

"It's a long story," Ron said, watching the pair in the distance. He turned back to see the time.

5:45.

When Hermione slumped forward into Draco's arms and he called out her name, Ron reached past Ginny to grab Harry's arm, stopping them both from moving any further forward. They stared at him questioningly.

"Long story."

In the middle of the bridge, Draco sank to the floor, cradling Hermione. "You should have survived."

"Some things are meant to happen no matter what."

"Shut up," Draco whispered, "stop hurting yourself further."

"You promised."

"I didn't."

"You didn't have to say it. I know you did. Muggles are fascinating. You'll like it among them."

"I'm not leaving you."

Hermione took a shuddering breath. "You know, I was almost a Slytherin too."

"Hermione, please."

"I'll be fine."

"Don't go."

Hermione smiled. She closed her eyes. "You promised," she reminded Draco one last time. "I love you."

Draco refused to accept it as Hermione's body stilled. He waited for the familiar tug, to find himself standing in the cottage, jug and glass in hand.

It never happened.

How was he supposed to live without the person who had saved his life so many times -- the first two, or ten, without the knowledge that she would live past that? How could he go on without her? How could he live amongst the kind of people that had raised her? The Muggles.

Draco froze. Muggles! In some ways, Muggles were better than wizards. It was his last chance. He had nothing else to try.

Ron, Ginny and Harry watched as Draco vanished from sight.

"Why'd you stop us?" Harry asked, "she's our best friend. We barely even know him. Just because we helped each other these last few hours--"

"There's more at play here than you know, Harry. Come on, there's a lot to explain."

///////////////

Nearly four months later, well after Hogwarts had been fully reconstructed, Harry received a letter to his home via the post.

The envelope had no return address and merely had his last name on the envelope. It was a miracle the letter had even made it to his letterbox. Perhaps the letter's true state had been concealed to look like those of the Muggles -- if it was sent by someone from a magical community somewhere.

"What is it, Harry?"

"Dunno yet," Harry said as he made his way back to the living room, where Ron and Ginny were sitting with their tea.

"Any word from Malfoy?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. "Pass me a wand, please."

Ginny held hers out with a sigh. "You've lost your letter opener again, haven't you?"

With a sheepish grin, Harry stabbed the envelope. Holding the letter and shaking the envelope off, he passed Ginny's wand back to her.

While the siblings picked up their conversation, Harry read through the letter.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, startling the Weasleys.

"What?" Ron asked, panicked. "What is it?"

"Privet Drive, now!"

"What?" Ginny said. "Where you used to live? For what d'you want to visit those pigs?"

"Meet me there! Number four, Privet Drive!" Harry yelled, already heading to the front door so he could apparate from outside the boundaries of the protection charms around Godric's Hollow.

Ron reached for the letter Harry had dropped and held it between himself and Ginny.

Harry I do regret not sending word sooner. I've only just received word that you'll be attending Hogwarts to complete your final year. She's quite proud of you and Ron, no doubt. I know she's your best friend and it's been incredibly selfish of me to try and keep her all to myself. If you're wondering how I know about Hogwarts and where you stay, I just have one name for you: Luna. I'm writing this letter to apologise for keeping silent all these months. It was wrong and I know she's going to make me pay for it. Number four, Privet Drive. I trust you know it. Come when you please, she's not getting out of bed anytime soon. Malfoy.

Ron glanced at Ginny. "We should go to Privet Drive."

"Already on it," Ginny said, snatching up the keys to the house and walking to the front door.

///////////////

Harry stared at the front door. Ginny nudged him forward.

He'd barely knocked before the door opened.

"Wards caught you," Draco explained, "I wondered how long I was going to have to wait before you actually knocked. Hermione's asleep. I wasn't expecting you to show up immediately."

"Why are you in my old house?" Harry blurted.

Draco shrugged. "They moved out. Who knows where? I needed a place and it was available. Don't worry, Hermione . . . redecorated."

As soon as he crossed the threshold, Harry knew the entire house had changed since he last stepped foot in it.

"I'm confused," Harry said, "I thought you vanished off the map because Hermione died. Ron thought you were dead too."

"Almost," Draco said, locking the door again and walking in the direction of the kitchen. "Tea? Hermione bought this awful stuff and I've been giving it to everyone that visits. Try some."

Harry, Ron and Ginny shared a confused glance as Draco vanished into the kitchen, returning with three steaming cups. Ron sniffed the cup before emptying it into the small palm tree's pot against the wall.

"Fair enough," Draco said, nodding as he produced a bottle of Firewhiskey. "Will this do?"

Ron held out the cup. "You're not delusional, are you?" he asked as Draco filled the cup with the liquor.

"Surprisingly, no. Hermione may be bedridden, but she's pretty well known up and down the street."

"How?" Harry asked.

"Oh, she made me take her to some stupid barbecue thing and took down everyone's numbers before we came back."

"No, I meant how is she alive?"

"Oh." Draco sat down on the sofa and gestured for the trio to sit. "Wizards are shit, mate. Absolute garbage. Hermione would've died because they'd be looking for some convoluted problem to solve."

"So, what happened?" Ginny asked.

"Heart attack," Draco said, leaning back. "It took the Muggles nearly twenty minutes to restart her heart. She'd slipped into a coma and . . . well, they said she might never wake up. Some said I was wasting finances on keeping her alive." Draco shrugged. "Then, two weeks ago, she just . . . woke up."

"Just like that?" Ginny raised her eyebrows.

Draco shrugged again. "Pretty much, yeah. Stunned the doctors quite a bit. Stunned herself."

"If Hermione woke up three weeks ago," Harry said, "why only send a letter now?"

"I said she woke up three weeks ago. I only brought her here two weeks ago. After that barbecue, she couldn't even get out of bed for longer than a few minutes. She started walking again a few days ago only. She needed the space to get used to living again. Before, coming back from certain death was an easy thing."

Ginny shuddered, catching Draco's attention. Her cheeks tinged slightly pink. "Sorry. I still can't get my head around the whole thing. Ron's explained it to us but . . . it's still strange to think about."

Draco nodded. "I suppose that's fair. Could you imagine, losing Hermione Granger to a heart attack? She's battled monsters and dragons and all sorts of things--"

"MATE, WE HAD A FUCKING FUNERAL!" Ron burst out.

Draco paused. "I did not know that. I should have expected that, though."

"She's got a bloody headstone! And flowers! I mean, the flowers are dead now 'cause we've been in Scotland most of the time rebuilding Hogwarts, but that's beside the point!"

"Ron?"

The four of them turned to see Hermione come around the wall, leaning against it. She looked quite shabby in her rumpled pyjamas and her hair was in all sorts of knots, but her face was full of colour and her eyes were as vibrant as they'd ever been. Hermione turned to Draco as he stood up and walked over to her. "You could've told me they were coming. I'd have brushed my hair."

"I didn't think they'd come as soon as they got the letter, love," Draco said, offering Hermione his arm.

"What really happened?" Ginny asked, watching as Hermione sat down in the corner of the couch and curled up into it.

"I died," Hermione said simply, "for the eighty-seventh time."

"Eighty-seven," Harry murmured, "that's ridiculous."

Hermione shrugged. "I couldn't figure out how to stop Pansy from killing Draco. Half of those deaths were spent thinking I was in the loop alone."

Draco recoiled as Hermione shot him a scalding glare. She was still bitter about it.

"I'm honestly surprised to still be here. I thought I was going to die for real there on the bridge. However, having been stuck in a time loop where I repeatedly died in various ways, I'm not about to question the fundamentals of my survival. I'm just thankful to be alive and lucky to be able to go back to being me."

"You realise we're going to have to get that headstone, as well as that empty coffin we buried, demolished," Ron said, "right?"

Hermione smiled. "So, I hear you're both going back to Hogwarts when it opens in a week."

"Yeah," Harry said, nodding, "We figured you'd want us to."

"You're right. I do want that for you. But . . . if you can find your means without Seventh Year, then you don't need to go. You don't have to do this for me."

Ginny frowned. "You're not coming with, are you?"

Both boys stared at Hermione. She shook her head.

"Well, then what are you gonna do? Sit around here all day, counting the lines on the walls?"

"No, Ron. We've decided to stay here, in the Muggle world. For that, we'd need Muggle jobs."

"You're going to college," Harry said, studying them both, "aren't you?"

Hermione and Draco nodded.

"What are going to do?"

Hermione glanced at Draco. "Medicine," he said.

"And you?" Harry asked, turning to Hermione.

She shrugged. "I'm . . . undecided."

"You should try teaching -- or nursing. Ron says he watched you with the younger students while I was in the Pensieve."

Ron nodded. "You were really good with them. A lot of them wouldn't sit still to let anyone else treat them the way they did for Malfoy. You'd make a great teacher, though. Brightest witch of her age, teaching Muggles how to spell."

Hermione laughed. "I promise to visit for dinner at least once a month."

"Mum's going to hold you to that," Ginny said.

Draco leaned forward. "So, Luna says we're to expect wedding invites soon?"

"Yeah," Ginny said, "I do suppose yours will return from one of those Muggle print stores soon."

Hermione snickered. "You deserve that."

"Shut up," Draco grumbled, glaring at the coffee table.

"Make me," Hermione said cheekily, sticking her tongue out at Draco.

Draco raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at her. "Love, we have guests. Maybe later."

"Oh, gross!" Ron cried. "In front of my Firewhiskey! Don't you have any self-control?"

Draco grinned. "Oh, yeah, can't wait for dinner."

And so they spent the rest of the day in the living room of Number 4, Privet Drive, laughing, joking, playfully insulting, and reminiscing.

Harry had never felt more at home than he did, surrounded by his two best friends, his girlfriend, and the unlikeliest of friends he could've possibly made.

///////////////

Years and years later, when they all had hair the colour of snow and wrinkles all over, long after they'd welcomed great-grandchildren into their families, Draco Malfoy planted daisies and marigolds at his wife's grave. He followed her not long after, but for every day they were apart, he visited the grave and took care of the flowers.

prev

[everly-kindred]

Eve’s Diary - Entry #53

Date: 12th of March, 2027

Dear Diary, 

I’m trying to write in you more frequently, like I said I would, so here we go! 

I wanna say first off that I did a big tarot reading like I said I would, since Ostara is coming, in precisely a week! But I’ll put my translation of the cards down at the bottom, after I write about everything else. 

I’ve been having a lot of dreams about frogs lately, and it reminded me of when my Gran took me to this rose garden. There were this big stone rings, like giant hag stones, and my Gran told me they’re called fairy stones and that hag stones can be held up to your eye, and if you look through the hole, you’ll see faeries. She’s a muggle, and that’s a legend that has existed for centuries, for them. 

I wonder if they really do see faeries… What happens if a muggle comes across a faerie? Like… our kind of faeries? I should ask the Care of Magical Creatures professor next chance I get.

Anyways, this garden was sort of a like… loop within a circle shape, with little bridges going over these ponds with fountains, and the whole thing was surrounded by a little stone wall, and filled with benches and rose bushes and little trees. It was a tiny park, but beautiful. And I remember there were so many frogs, and I spent ages trying to catch one, while my Gran relaxed on a bench and read her book. Sometimes she’d stop and laugh at me, though, especially when I almost slipped in the pond for probably the tenth time that day. It was a good day. 

Did you know that frogs lay eggs and the eggs float in clusters on top of the water? I wonder what would have happened if I scooped up some of the eggs and water and kept it in a jar… It was this weird, greenish yellow slime, with little black dots in each center. I think tadpoles are rather cute, actually. 

Well, my frog dreams reminded me of that. I still need to ask Gallo what it means. Maybe it’s just because it’s been getting warmer? The snow and ice has started melting, and it’s been looking like it might rain.

I’ve been doing watercolors and sketches, and I’ve thought about getting on my broom and flying high enough that I could sketch all of Hogwarts. I think that’d be a rather magnificent experience, don’t you? Terrifying, too. I’d want someone else there to catch me if I lose balance and fall. It’d likely be best done on an extra thick, sturdy broom. 

The other thing that’s been really pressing on my mind lately is the gold cauldron in the potions shop, in Hogsmeade. I can’t remember if I’ve already written about that in you, but I’ve been daydreaming about it for months! Well, I day dream about a lot of things - wand making, bread… well, baking it and other things, the stories I want to write, making cute music boxes… But the gold cauldron especially! I want to save up for it, which would be very rewarding… It would also be rewarding to win it in some sort of competition, though. 

Though, the fountain outside of the Great Hall was sort of… whispering to me in a weird way. Like, I was drawn to it. So I took my last galleon and I wished for the gold cauldron! I hope it was worth it… I was also kind of thinking about rabbits and fairies at the time too, though, so I hope I didn’t muddle it up.

Something odd and… kind of nice happened the other night, which motivated me. I was running from Peeves (he was trying to dump mud on me) when I ducked into the dueling room, and came across one of the girls in the dueling club there. Her name is Briony Boggs, and she’s a Gryffindor. We got to talking, and she told me how my wand needs me for guidance, and I have to lead it. That I need to be confident with it for my spells to go off, and if I think I’ll fail, I will. So I’ve been trying to change the way I think about things ever since. 

As far as what’s actually been happening in school, I’ve been going to my classes like normal. Though, of course, classes aren’t normal by usual standards. Something weird is always happening, but that’s just how it goes isn’t it? The ravenclaw boys were fainting in herbology… I think they don’t wear their earmuffs on purpose when handling mandrakes. I successfully cared for this plant called moly, though! I didn’t overwater them and I wasn’t too rough with them or anything! 

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, we talked about different subjects and how they might be used in defending oneself from dark wizards. My anxiety was too high during that class, though, I didn’t hear much of what was said and I don’t remember a whole lot of what I did process. Basically, as soon as I walked in, Vikander told me to stay after class. I thought it might’ve been because of my clothes, because we had a really odd notice from him to wear house pride stuff instead of uniform and… some people wore uniform and said it’s because they were told by him to be careful of sudden odd changes of behaviour… or something like that.

Anyways, it wasn’t about that, though. He wanted to ask me about my vision. So I went up to his office, and the Healer and one of the Phoenix girls were there, Nicole I think. And he took off his glove which seemed to be like… alive or something. And his hand was all burned but I did my best not to stare. Then he put his hand on my head and asked me to think about the memory of the vision very clearly, so I did. I guess he has some sort of… mind reading magic when he touches people’s heads? I dunno. I got hot chocolate out of it, though. So that was cool. I wonder what he thought of the vision… How he felt when he saw what I saw, especially the part with him in it. 

I went to dragonology, and we talked about how dragons are similar to seekers - specifically Viktor Krum. I was a bit distracted, though. Did I mention that Professor Eastwood’s eyes are orange? It’s the most… unique eye colour I’ve ever seen! And, I mean, Blightly’s eye is all red and scarred, and Dracheblume has purple eyes… Plus there are a few people with two different coloured eyes at the school, too. But his are orange and like… glowing. 

In Artificer club we made a thing called a PMRA which is this like phonograph with legs and it moves and dances around and plays music and can record stuff for you! We built them and then Bonnie cast the spells for me to enchant mine, and also Marigold and this Gryffindor boy named August’s. 

You can feed the PMRA sheet music or give it records to play. I went to the music room and grabbed some sheet music for Celestina Warbeck and the Weird Sisters, and also some of the Beetles and Peter Paul and Mary… Oh, also the Mamas and the Papas. It’d be cool to build up a music collection for it! 

For now mine sits by my dorm bed, and I have it play music very quietly for me at night. Someone in the dorms is a bit of a snor-er and someone else talks in their sleep… I’ve been told I also talk in my sleep. Well, mutter more like. But occasionally I’ll be sleeping and then some girl a few beds away from me will start muttering strange things like… especially food related things. She must dream about lasagna an awful lot. 

There've been some glitter pranks around the school, too. If you step on a trigger on the ground, you get splashed with this powder paint, and it gets everywhere and passes so easily onto other people, so some students (lookin’ at you, Peach) will go around and purposefully try to spread it. I think it’s funny, even if it’s messy, but when have I ever been a stranger to messiness? Most of my clothing is covered in paint stains…

It’s funny timing, though, because the ministry is now in the school. They’re investigating the forest. Apparently, a bunch of students were caught there, and now there’s all these aurors and occasionally Minister Merriwether walking around. The scary thing, though, is that apparently they’re putting a barrier up around the school, and if you cross it, you’ll… disintegrate? I wonder if that’s painful… I imagine so. I hope the animals know to stay away from it. 

Anyways, that’s all I can think of to catch you up on, so that means it’s tarot reading time. I think I’ve done this spread before, perhaps last spring? It’s a six card spread and you make it in the The first card asks what I ‘need to decay’ or rather what I need to let go of. For this, I drew the Emperor. While he represents masculinity and a leader, he also represents a giver of sorts… So either there is a masculine presence in my life that I need to let go of, or I need to stop… providing for other people? I don’t know. This one didn’t make sense to me. I’ll have to think about it. I don’t think I’m particularly giving, and if I am, I don’t see how I’d be too giving… 

Second one asks what will ‘fertilize me’ which actually means what do I need to learn from. I drew the five of swords reversed. This card, in reverse, would mean something like the desire to be mean, maybe because of wounded pride. So perhaps I am to learn from a moment in which I wanted to be mean instead of kind? Maybe it means I need to learn from any desire I might have to act when I’m angry. I’m not sure. I’ll keep it in mind though and treat it like a warning for the future. 

For the third card, it asks what will ‘nourish me’ which is what I can look forward to. I drew the Chariot. The Chariot is a card of control and victory so… I’ll try not to jump to conclusions or assumptions about what that means and jinx myself. (butboydoIsurehopeit’stalkingaboutquidditch)

The fourth card asks how I ‘burst forth from the earth’ or rather what seeds I should plant for the future. For this, I drew the Magician. I’ve had this card before, and it seems like it shows up a lot in my readings. So as we know, this means power, concentration, dedicating myself. Focusing on strengthening my… smarts and wisdom and stuff. So the seeds I should plant are the seeds of learning, which makes a lot of sense since… I’m in school and all that. 

As for the fifth card, it asks how I ‘grow tall’ which means what skills I should be focusing on and improving. The deck gave me the ten of swords. This card is a card of deep suffering and sadness, so if I’m needing to focus on a skill and building on it, perhaps it should be the skill of… healthily expressing sadness? I guess I do bottle stuff up sometimes.

And finally the sixth card asks how I will ‘blossom’ or rather where I need balance, and for this, I drew the nine of wands reversed. This card is a card of encouragement, confidence, and facing down fear, so maybe it’s telling me that I need to balance out my anxieties and my defeated attitude with bravery and courage. So that I am realistic and honest with myself, but also willing to take a risk and push myself to my full… potential?

Anyways that’s my reading. It felt good to get back into it and do a big one for once. I’ve just been pulling one card or doing three card readings everyday or every other day. My back hurts from sitting over my diary and writing, so I think I’m gonna lay down and go to bed.

Much love, Everly

[ Eve’s Wiki Page ]

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[drdanwrites]

You Are my Happiness: ***Seamus Finnigan x Reader Soulmate Request ***

Can i get a request for a Seamus Finnigan x reader where the reader is a Gryffindor and she produces a patronus and then finds out Seamus has the same one as her. Kinda like a soulmate au

Here you are my little anon!! I hope you don’t mind but I changed up the request just a little. All the same, I loved writing for this little class clown! xxx

***I tried my best to write for his accent... but I married an British man... not an Irish man so my Irish accent is a bit rusty! Sorry!! xxx ***

Hogwarts on Valentine's day could make any cynical singleton sick. The floating hearts, enchanted cupids flying round young lover’s heads and rose petals falling from the ceiling. Different Hogwarts couples had taken to parading their love around the halls the whole week leading up to the grand event. 

The Lover’s Patronus ball.

A traditional Hogwarts event that occurred for every 7th year student, encouraging to help them find their life’s soulmate. A right of passage for any witch or wizard. The event starts with the Dance of the Patronus. Each student conjures their patronus all at the same time, hoping to find the other student whose patronus matches their own. It was said to mean that as patronuses would forever be sealed together so would their owners.  

It was enough to make you sick.

You couldn't decide what made it more revolting, the fact that you were surrounded by overwhelming romance or that you were irrefutably in love with your best friend, Seamus Finnigan.

You feel two hands grasp your arms from behind. The suddenly surprise makes you jump into the air. Turning quickly, you feel another sort of flying feeling, but nothing you want to come down from. Seamus stood laughing at your reaction and his laughter filled your soul like sweet honey. You scrunch your nose at him and swing a friendly punch towards his shoulder. Seamus continues to laugh at your pathetic attempts at revenge and gives a feeble attempt to block it.

“You scared the hell out of me.”

He gives you that lovable mischievous grin and you can feel your admiring smile spread like butter across your face, soft and wide.

Seamus and you had met in your first year and had an instant chemistry and everyone noticed. Between all the snarky back n’ forth banter and late night common room chats, you two always seemed to be the focus of Gryffindor gossip. The fact that it was rare to see one without the other, everyone was almost certain that your patronuses were guaranteed to match. At first it was something that you shrugged off, but slowly over time you found yourself hoping they were right. What you wouldn’t give to know that Seamus was your lifelong soulmate.  He leans against the wall next to you as he joins you in your spectator sport.

“A whole giant castle for em to spread round and ey all decide to congregate here in front of us.” Seamus pretends to throw up, gesturing his disgust spewing from his mouth. You roll your eyes but silently stare longingly at him, wishing the two of you could be also locked in a lover’s embrace.

“Umm...yeah. How dare they.” You scoff back at him. Seamus leans into the same wall as you and stands closely behind you.

“So are ye ready to see what sorry sod is destined to be yer mate?” He cooed into your ear softly. You shake your head.

“I dunno, can’t wait to see what girl gets stuck with your monkey face.” You turn your head slightly to see Seamus pull his hands quickly to his heart as if wounded. He staggers back harder into the wall and slowly begins to slide down, as if your words were killing him softly. When he notices that his dramatisation has little to no effect on you, he quickly gets up and puts a friendly arm around your shoulders and leans his head closer to yours.

“Hate to see you enden up with one of these sorry Johnnies.” He nods his head over to the love sick puppies wondering the halls. You smirk and take a hand to push his face way and you can feel the wide smile in your palm.

“Why’s that? Got someone specific in mind for me?” You turn to face him, interested to see who Seamus thinks your potential soulmate is. He cooly shoves his hands in his pockets and nervously teeters on the balls of his feet.

“Well for starters, yer soulmate’s gotta be charmin and witty.”

“Oh course.” You agree, liking where this is heading. “Go on. Witty, Charming and…” You encourage him to continue.

“He’s gotta be the funniest git in school. Gotta make you beam.” He brings a hand up to your chin and gently presses his thumb, as if to turn on your glorious and bright smile. As he sees this he lets out a silent but deadly sensual sigh. “There you are…” He breathes out, captivated by what he’s witnessing.

Somehow without either of you noticing, the moment passing between you two has become extremely intimate. Seamus holds your face, close to this own and your gazes completely locked onto each other. Your bodies now facing each other and threatening to collide into each other eventually. However, the moment is suddenly cut premature as Professor McGonagall comes around the corner, calling for attention.

“ALL SEVEN YEARS TO THE GREAT HALL, COME, COME NOW. MAKE SURE TO HAVE YOUR WANDS READY.” She tuts along past you two, but the moment has cleared and Seamus moves back to an appropriate space. You look down, cursing McGonagall under your breath as you quickly look back up at Seamus.

“Well good luck mate.” He puts a hand on the top of your head and ruffles your hair like a child. Devastatingly you try to smile at him and follow the rest of the crowd into the great hall.

“I can’t hold my wand, I’m sweating too much Harry. It keeps slipping from my hand.”

“Get a grip mate.”

Seamus can hear the voices of his friends around him but he is too focused on the task ahead. It wasn’t like him to take things so seriously, but he was determined to come out of this with you as his soulmate. In his head flashes of your absolutely radiant smile and your overly loving eyes. He could live with those for the rest of his life.

“Oye, Seamus.” He blinks and look over at the voice calling for him. His best friend Dean stands next to him and laughs. “Thinking of someone specific are we?” Seamus looks down and back up at Dean, he rubs a calming thumb along the length of his nose.

“I’m just wondering what yer all gonna do when all these ladies end up matching my patronus.” Dean laughs at his friend’s confidence, he knew his true feelings for you.

“WE ARE ABOUT TO BEGIN.” Seamus’s joke was interrupted by another announcement from Professor McGonagall. “CAN I PLEASE HAVE YOU ALL THINK OF A OVERWHELMINGLY HAPPY MEMORY? IT NEEDS TO BE A STRONG AND POWERFUL FEELING.”

By far Seamus had a brilliant life. Looking back through all his memories, there wasn’t many that didn’t make him happy. Though as he racked his life for overwhelming feelings of sincerely pure happiness, he couldn’t find anything that filled his soul enough. Finally he reached a recent memory, something that made him feel a glowing resemblance of pure bliss. Days before the Lover’s Patronus Ball, Seamus and you had been in the common room for your nightly hang out. The subject of the dance afterwards had come up and you hang your head. With remorse you had told Seamus that you had never learned to dance. Without thinking Seamus had grabbed your hands and pulled you into his body. Leading you into a dance without missing a beat. The feel of your body pressed firmly against his, his manly hand wrapping itself around your dainty palm and the look of content in your eyes had given him peace like he never knew. As the thought of the feeling that had stirred in this memory, he could feel utter happiness fill his toes and overflow to the tip of his head. He could hear others around his shouting the incantation and he tried not to focus on the fact that your patronus might find another.

She doesn’t belong with anyone else but me.

With that he himself shouted the incantation and opened his eyes to see a wispy, almost ghost like fox. Seamus held his wand out, not sure how to get it to move. The fox sat looking up at Seamus. It turned to look around the room, curious at all the other animals moving around it. Looking back up to Seamus, it tilted it’s head as if to ask why he had summoned him if all he was going to do was stand around. Seamus bent down and looked the patronus, it curiously looked back at him.

“Okay… I know yer suppsoda find yer match, but I’m hopin yer can just find Y/N and pretend to connect with her patronus.” The fox patronus just kept looking at him. Seamus carefully looked around him and could see couple had now began to gather together. All around him were whirling and fading patronuses. Some that found their match and others who were roaming around aimlessly while their owners run after them. Seamus looked back to the fox to find that it was no longer in front of him, the stream that connected his wand to the patronus was his only guide and he began to follow it hoping that it had listened to his plea.

You stood on edge as your patronus sat completely still grooming itself. Who else would have a fox as a patronus? As you scanned the others, you strained to find the one that you wanted to connect with.

What if his patronus had already connected with someone else? What if your happiest memory was just fantasy? What if the two of you weren’t meant to be?

As you thought of these pending possibilities you began to chew on your thumb nail nervously. Suddenly a voice broke up the tension.

“Well I guess yer’d better get used to this monkey face, beautiful.” You stood like a statue as you looked back up to see Seamus standing over confidently in front of you, he ran a hand along his jawline, modeling the prize you had just won. That smile that Seamus loved about you shown as you shook your head. Looking down in front of you both, you saw that where there was one fox patronus, there was two. They jumped around each other, continuously disappearing and reappearing as they played.

“I dunno…” You laughed as you strolled up to him. “You did say I needed to be with someone witty.” He threw his head back and laughed aloud as he thanked Merlin it turned out to be you.

“Well it’s a good thing I make up for it in charm and humour.” Seamus leans in and plants a sweet kiss on your lips.

“And that lasses and laddies is how I cheated at the Dance of the Patronus and bagged myself my life’s happiness! To Life’s Happiness!” Seamus raised his champagne flute in the air as the guests at your wedding followed suit. With the clinking of glasses, Seamus leaned down and the two of you kissed with just as much passion as he had described in the story of your great love story. As the guests go back to eating their meal, Seamus sits down next to you. Leaning in to him, you whisper into your husband’s ear.

“You love telling that story don’t you?”

“Of course I do love.”

“Darling, you know you didn’t cheat at the Dance of the Patronus... we had the same patronus.” He smirks back and you and you already know the answer he is going to give to you as you heard it just as many times as the original story.

“But I did tell it to go and find you.” As you have done many, many a time to Seamus, you rolled your eyes. He puts a finger to his lips, as if to ask you to keep his longest running secret.

“No one needs to know ALL the details of the story.”

“You are very luck you are so charming Finnigan.”

“And you’re lucky I’m also witty.” As Seamus turns back to his plate of dinner, you recall is story and how many times you have heard it, noticing that there was still one detail he never let you in on.

“There is just one thing you never told me about that story.” He turns back to you and takes your hand in his.

“What’s that, Wife?”

“What was your happy memory?” Seamus takes a moment and stares loving back at you. He runs a hand down your cheek.

“On the count of three.. the both of us say what our happy memory was.”

1...

2.....

3.....

You

I really hope you guys enjoyed it. I’m terribly sorry if this was really short. Please let me know if you liked it, I might be interested in doing more Seamus Finnigan requests! Poor Seamus needs some love too!!! xxx Thanks for reading everyone and all the continued support

                               THE NEXT UPDATE IS TIED: ***MAGICAL OFFICE AND WE’VE STILL GOT TIME***

                                These will be updated next week!

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars XXV (Harry Potter xFem!Oc)

A/N: So this was a really fun and cute chapter, I remember that, enjoy!

Words: 3,999

Warnings: None except my absolute lack of proofreading

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Seven: Mrs. Weasley’s Howler.

Hermione had taken the whole incident as a personal offense, at this point, Mel was used to it.

She decided to escape by getting up later than Hermione and have breakfast with the boys. When they got to the Great Hall, Hermione barely looked up from her book, not even saying hi.

The mail arrived as usual, and poor Errol dropped on top of Hermione's plate.

He had been carrying a red envelope.

"Oh, no."

"It's all right, he's still alive"

"It's not that - it's that."

Ron was pointing at a red paper.

"What's the matter?" asked Harry.

"She's - she's sent me a Howler," said Ron with fear.

"What's that?" Mel tried to reach for the letter, but Ron pushed her away.

"Don't!"

"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville. "It'll be worse if you don't My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and... it was horrible."

"What's a Howler?" Harry insisted.

"Open it," Neville urged. "It'll all be over in a few minutes -"

Ron reached for the letter and opened, Neville covered his ears and out of nowhere, Mrs. Weasley's voice came roaring from the paper:

"STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE —"

Mel was looking at it with her mouth wide open in horror, unable to make it stop, she had to witness as Ron slowly sunk further and further on his chair, deeply embarrassed.

"- LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU, MEL AND HARRY COULD HAVE DIED -"

"Oh my god..." Mel covered her face in utter shame and sunk next to her friend, and this wasn't even her mother's reaction! It was silly, but she'd forgotten that her mother had been notified. She wasn't scared about it... until now.

"-ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED - YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

Without adding nothing else, the envelope burst into flames and turned into a puddle of ashes.

A second owl flew across the table and dropped a letter -a normal looking one- on Mel's head.

"Thank Merlin," She whispered, safely putting it away in her pocket.

A few students laughed and then that was it, they returned to their normal activities.

Hermione closed her book, ready to add her opinion on the matter.

"Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you -"

"Don't tell me I deserved it," Ron snapped.

"What did Emily send you, Mel?" Harry asked, still looking pale.

"I won't open it here," She grimaced, "I'll do it later tonight"

"You're lucky it wasn't a howler," Ron grumbled, "Mum could've been less dramatic, you know?"

Before Hermione could argue against him, Professor McGonagall passed, handing out schedules. They had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs that morning.

They left the Hall towards the greenhouses, Hermione was in a much brighter mood now.

The rest of the class was standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. They were getting closer when Mel felt a single tug on her sleeve and looked up, finding a familiar set of hazel eyes.

"E-" She was soon cut off by the boy, who just handed her a carefully folded piece of paper.

Erick left without adding a word to it, not even looking back. Mel stood in confusion for a few seconds until she heard Sprout's voice.

She was accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart. Professor Sprout's arms were full of bandages, and as Harry poked her shoulder and pointed to their left, she noticed the Whomping Willow in the distance, several of its branches now in slings.

"Well, that's a bit ridiculous," She frowned, thinking about the ugly bruise that covered most part of her ribs, "it's a tree, can't be that injured can it?"

"You don't know that," Hermione replied.

"Oh, hello there!" Professor Lockhart called, "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels..."

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout.

"How kind of him, next thing he'll be teaching the giant squid how to swim," Mel whispered to Harry, making him laugh.

"Greenhouse three!" Exclaimed Hermione excitedly, "We've never been there before!"

As they approached the greenhouse, Lockhart's hand reached Harry's shoulder and stopped him.

"Harry! I've been wanting a word - you don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?"

Mel looked anxiously between the teachers, hoping for Professor Sprout to say something, however, Lockhart was faster.

"That's the ticket," He closed the door on their faces.

"That..." Professor Sprout clenched her fists, "Man. Miss Dumbledore go to your seat, what are you waiting for?"

Mel rushed to get a seat next to Ron. When he asked where Harry was, she shrugged.

"Lockhart wanted to speak with him, dunno why"

After a few minutes, Harry walked in with a puzzled expression as he approached their bench.

"We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

Mel and Hermione's hands shot up. They shared a look and Mel lowered her hand, encouraging her friend to speak.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Hermione, sending a small smile her way, "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout, "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Both girls raised their hand again, this time, it was Hermione who lowered hers.

"The cry of the Mandrake," Mel said a little shyly, "it's lethal. Though is less damaging when they're not fully grown"

"Precisely. Take another ten points," said Professor Sprout, "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."

She pointed to the little plants on the table.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout. "When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered. When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right - earmuffs on."

They put on the earmuffs and Professor Sprout pulled out one of the plants from its place.

Mel reconsidered her stance on plants not being able to feel, cause that plant in front of her looked very much alive.

She thought of them as baby Nymphs, it looked like it: green leaves for hair and muddy skin. Although they were uglier than the Nymphs on her books.

Professor Sprout took a pot from under the table and set the Mandrake into it, burying it in compost up to its leaves. Then she gave them the thumbs-up and removed her own earmuffs.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet, however, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up. Four to a tray - there is a large supply of pots here - compost in the sacks over there - and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it's teething."

They inched closer, Mel accidentally hit a boy as she moved to get a pot and apologized promptly, he smiled and shrugged it off, he also took that moment to introduce himself.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," he shook their hands, "Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter... And you're Hermione Granger - always top in everything, Mel Dumbledore- people talk a lot about you too, mostly about how often you try to start fights-"

"I do not," She blushed.

"-and Ron Weasley. Wasn't that your flying car?"

Ron's pride was still hurt by that Howler, so he didn't say anything.

"That Lockhart's something, isn't he?" said Justin, now that they were starting to work, "Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? I'd have died of fear if I'd been cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and - zap - just fantastic."

"He's something alright," Mel mumbled distractedly.

"My name was down for Eton, you know. I can't tell you how glad I am I came here instead. Of course, Mother was slightly disappointed, but since I made her read Lockhart's books I think she's begun to see how useful it'll be to have a fully trained wizard in the family..."

"Ah!" Mel complained as she accidentally bumped against Hermione when walking out of the bathroom, "My ribs hurt, I should go to Pomfrey for a quick check..."

"You haven't gone?" Hermione said worryingly.

They finished their Herbology class covered in mud and sweat, so most fo the students went to wash their faces and hands before their transfiguration lesson.

"I didn't have time this morning cause I woke up late, and after I just didn't see the point on going. I mean, I can move-"

"But it hurts," Hermione frowned, "if it hurts is not good"

"I'll go before the day ends, I promise..."

They entered the class and sat behind Harry and Ron.

As usual, Mel and Hermione were the only ones able to turn their beetles into buttons. Mel would've been happy if it wasn't because Ron's awful fights with his own wand kept distracting her the whole time.

"Stupid - useless - thing -" Ron said angrily.

"If I were you, I wouldn't be doing that," Mel said as she stood up, hanging her bag on one shoulder, "unless you want to blow up the desk"

"Write home for another one," Harry suggested.

The wand let out another cloud of grey, stinky smoke.

"Oh, yeah, and get another Howler back," Ron scoffed, "-'It's your own fault your wand got snapped - '"

When they sat on the Gryffindor table, Hermione tried to show them the buttons she had managed to do, but seeing Ron's awful mood, Mel shook her head behind his back and signaled her to put them away.

"What've we got this afternoon?" said Harry.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.

Mel peered over Hermione's shoulder, when she caught sight of something Hermione had written on it, she almost choked on her pumpkin juice.

"Why," Ron grabbed the paper, brows knit together, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione tried to take the schedule away but Mel was faster.

"My, my..." Mel said with her voice shaking, trying not to laugh, "crushing are we, 'Mione?"

"Leave it!" She complained, finally getting a hold of the paper and putting it back on her bag, "it's nothing-"

"It's alright, I guess he's handsome," Mel grinned, "surprises me that the brilliant Hermione Granger would fall for someone who is clearly all looks and zero brains"

Harry had told her about his little chat with Lockhart, for her, it was clear that Lockhart had no idea of what was he doing in that school.

"He's really clever, you know," Hermione defended, "all his books-"

"Yes, those books," Mel snorted, "you know, stupid doesn't equal lack of imagination"

Hermione refused to speak to her for the rest of the lunch hour.

Erick Flint walked into the Great Hall along with his group of friends and Mel suddenly remembered she hadn't read the note he'd given her.

She searched for it in her bag and pulled it out, now slightly wrinkled and messier than when he first delivered it. The girl looked at her friends and, making sure no one was watching her, she unfolded it.

'Morning, Miss

The first day and you're already making a fuss, can't Gryffindors help being so loud all the time? It was a pretty stupid thing to do, but at least you're not dead...

This year I'll be going to Hogsmeade for the first time ever -it's the town closest to the school- and I wanted to be a "good friend" and ask you if you'd like me to bring you anything, it'd be my treat, as a late birthday gift for you.

I believe that our first trip is until October, but I'll let you know. You have plenty of time to send your response.

Have a nice day,

Erick F.'

Mel looked up from the note and searched for her friend. She found him already looking back, he had an icy neutral expression, but she could've sworn she saw the smallest smile as he looked away.

"What's that?" Ron asked curiously, pointing to the paper on her hand.

"Nothing," She lied, "it's just a silly note that Fred and George snuck in my bag"

"Why?" He frowned.

"I don't know. Your brothers are crazy," She rolled her eyes, putting the paper away.

"You're not in love with them, are you?" Ron asked.

Mel choked on her drink again.

"What!? "

"It's just- it would be weird," He shrugged, "to have you as my friend but also see you date one of them..."

"Ron!" She stammered, feeling her cheeks burn, "I'm not in love with any of your brothers!"

"I'm just making sure!" He exclaimed, ears just as red as her face, "You can't blame me, you're always with them so I'd to ask. Harry thinks the same, don't you Harry?"

He was quiet, his eyes fixed on his plate. But when Ron asked, he also almost choked on his food.

"I-I..." Harry stuttered, "I mean... Fred and George always tease her. It doesn't mean they trying something-"

"Thank you!" Mel exclaimed, looking at Ron as if Harry had just proven her point.

"What's going on with you?" Ron huffed, "Last year you were the one teasing her about it. Now you're saying it's not real?"

"It was just a joke," Harry frowned, "I don't actually believe it"

"I don't have a crush on your brothers, Ron," Mel assured him. Without knowing why, her eyes briefly looked at Harry when she added, "If I ever have feelings for someone, you'll be the first to know..."

Colin Creevey was a sweet boy, however, he also had terrible timing.

He was a lot like Neville: same anxious eyes, fidgeting as he held his camera tight against his chest, asking Harry for a signed picture.

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?" Malfoy appeared followed by Crabbe and Goyle on each side, "Everyone line up! Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily, "Shut up, Malfoy."

"You're just jealous," said Colin.

Mel stood up quickly as she watched Crabbe and Goyle tried to approach the kid.

"Jealous? Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

"Eat slugs, Malfoy," said Ron.

"Be careful, Weasley. You don't want to start any trouble or your Mommy'll have to come and take you away from school. 'If you put another toe out of line' - "

A knot of Slytherin fifth-years nearby laughed loudly at this.

"Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter," smirked Malfoy. "It'd be worth more than his family's whole house -"

"Look out!" Whispered Hermione behind them.

"What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart had appeared. "Who's giving out signed photos?"

His eyes followed the children in front of him and landed on Harry.

"Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry! Come on then, Mr. Creevey," said Lockhart, beaming at Colin. "A double portrait, can't do better than that, and we'll both sign it for you"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Sir," Mel started, but Lockhart only laughed.

"Oh, it's all good, Miss. Would you like to join?"

Mel stepped back quickly as Colin took the picture, speechless.

"Off you go, move along there," Lockhart moved, taking Harry with him.

Mel rushed to walk behind them, hearing Lockhart's delusional advice.

"A word to the wise, Harry. I covered up for you back there with young Creevey -if he was photographing me, too, your schoolmates won't think you're setting yourself up so much..."

Harry was in such a state that he couldn't even form proper sentences when they reached the castle, the boy was still bright red.

"Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible -looks a tad bigheaded, Harry, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but I don't think you're quite there yet."

He chuckled, patting Harry's shoulder and going to the front of the classroom.

The boy sat at the very end of the room, piling his books so that his face was completely covered, sinking even further on his chair.

"Cheer up, Glasses," Mel sat beside him, "Lockhart's a twat"

"You could've fried an egg on your face," said Ron as soon as he and Hermione joined in, "You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club."

"Shut up," snapped Harry.

Lockhart cleared his throat and the class went silent, waiting for him.

"Me," he said, "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most- Charming-Smile Award - but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

"Yeah, we can tell you hate being the center of attention," Mel mumbled under her breath.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books -well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in -"

It was all nonsense.

'What is Gilderoy Lockhart 's favorite color?

What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?'

Mel even forgot what class she was supposed to be having, looking at the paper like it was a rather nasty-looking mandrake, she refused to answer the quiz and handed it back completely blank.

"Tut, tut - hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully - I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples - though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogdeds Old Firewhisky!"

Mel, -arms crossed and fighting against the need to throw the man her copy of Wandering with Werewolves- held the edge of her robe, she held tight to it, counting the minutes so she could leave the room.

"...but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions - good girl! In fact, full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hermione raised a hand, she was shaking.

"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor!"

He turned over to the next paper and his face fell.

"Now now, Miss Dumbledore?"

"Here," Mel said through greeted teeth, not bothering to raise her hand.

"You're so quiet I would never have guessed! " He let out a cheerful laugh, "Well no wonder why you're quiet... you're not exactly the brightest in your family tree, judging by this blank paper, are you? And not exactly photogenic... Either way, though I support your idea of remaining anonymous, I must ask you to put more effort in class"

"Not exactly-" Mel repeated in disbelief, unable to finish the sentence.

She saw Dean and Seamus, trying not to laugh a few desks in front of her.

"And so-" The man continued casually, "to business - Now be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

He'd taken a large cage from under his desk and put a hand over the think fabric covering it.

"I must ask you not to scream. It might provoke them," He then dropped the fabric, revealing what was inside, "yes, freshly caught Cornish pixies."

Seamus Finnigan burst out laughing.

"Yes?"

"Well, they're not - they're not very - dangerous, are they?" Seamus grinned.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be! Right, then, let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.

Mel would count this as the worst class she'd ever had in Hogwarts.

The pixies went mad, they flew around making a mess and breaking things, lifting Neville to the ceiling and ripping the pages from any book they could reach.

"Come on now -round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted.

Lavender and Parvati lost it, they were screaming in panic, hidden under their table.

"Peskipiksi Pesternomi!" Lockhart's spell did nothing to help them, it only made the Pixies angrier, one of them snatched's Lockhart's wand and threw it out the window. The wisest decision anyone'd ever made on Lockhart.

"Stop!" Mel yelled, covering her face so the pixies wouldn't scratch her, she was holding her wand, trying to come up with a spell, "I said, STOP!"

Just like last year, a wave burst out of her, a wind of energy hit a group of pixies, freezing them in place.

The bell rang and everyone rushed to the exit.

"Well," Lockhart looked at them since they hadn't left the room, "I'll ask you four to just nip the rest of them back into their cage."

"Can you believe him?" roared Ron as one of the remaining pixies bit him painfully on the ear.

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Hermione, immobilizing two pixies at once with a clever Freezing Charm and stuffing them back into their cage.

"Hands on?" said Harry, who was trying to grab a pixie dancing out of reach with its tongue out. "Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing -"

"Rubbish," said Hermione. "You've read his books - look at all those amazing things he's done -"

"He says he's done," Ron muttered.

"Rubbish!" Mel threw one of Lockhart's books to the ground, "What excuse do you have for that ridiculous quiz? It hardly had anything to do with Dark Arts!"

"It was to break the ice!"

"He called me dumb! And unattractive!" Mel insisted, pointing her wand to a pair of pixies and immobilizing them, "Not that I care whether if I'm pretty or not, but that's just so unprofessional, Mione! Only Snape would do such a stupid comment during class... Oh, I'll do better in class alright, I'll do so much better..."

"Well, you may be right on that," Hermione said thoughtfully, "He did sound a bit rude, but I bet he didn't mean it. I am sorry that you got a bad grade on the quiz, though."

"I don't care about that bloody quiz," Mel closed the cage's door with a loud clang, "I won't care about this class at all as long as he keeps giving it. He's completely useless. I refuse to come back"

Hermione's eyes widened.

"You don't really mean that, Mel-"

The girl walked up to their table and grabbed her bag, walking straight to the door.

"Watch me."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@tiphareth2018 @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @celestialhayi @mikariell95 @omiwashere​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl​

[yinyangswings]

The Auror’s Daughter-Percival Graves Imagine

Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Characters: Percival Graves

Pairing: None

Notes/Warnings: There is a torture scene between Grindelwald and Graves. This one I did mostly in Percival’s POV, but if anyone wants I could do it via the reader

Word count: 3556

Imagine: Requested by Anon ‘Can u do a Perceval Graves single father imagine? Please’. Hope this is okay!!

Tags: @aislinsekhem

Imagine that his wife, of only a few years, one that birthed him a healthy child died due to Dragon Pox. By some miracle, the pox missed you, but his wife, your mother couldn’t stand up to it…and died, begging Percival to raise their daughter. And he does…but he’s unsure that he can. Everything’s changing.

He stared at the four small girl curled up in her bed, a small lamp glowing dimly, swallowing roughly.

Today had been his wife’s funeral.

It had been a small ceremony, but he had had to hold back tears when (Y/N) had asked him repeatedly why Mama wasn’t waking up and she wouldn’t like being under the ground. She was too young to understand…and Merlin…he hated this. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to raise her, it was just he was unsure if he could. He was an auror, and would soon be taking over as Director of Magical Security. How could he of all people be there for her and raise her by himself when he was working in the MAC? How could he be a good father when he couldn’t stop her mother’s death? How…

He looked up when he heard a knock on the door. He looked back frantically as he watched (Y/N) shift tiredly and he briskly walked over to the door, a hand on his wand. Whoever he was expecting when he opened the door, his elderly mother, Elaine Graves was the farthest from his mind.

“Mother??”

“Hello Percival.” The aged matriarch of the Graves family said with a smile.

“What…what are you-”

“Now you don’t expect me to stay out in the countryside when my son and granddaughter are going through the process of grieving, do you?”

“…You hate the city.”

“I think I can put up with it for a little while. You just lost your wife Percy,” she responded setting her bag down, and looking back her son, “and you will need to adjust being a single father and balancing that with work. I’ll be here to at least ease the strain a bit.”

Percival was quiet, swallowing the lump in his throat down the best he could.

“Mother…”

“I won’t take no as an answer. Besides I want to see my granddaughter a few more times than once in awhile when Nora managed to convince you to leave work and come visit.”

He snorted weakly, but the sound broke away and Elaine glanced at him to see he was looking at the ground, his shoulders shaking.

“Oh darling…it will be alright. You’ll see…” She said softly, walking over to him, wrapping her arms around him.

“You’ll see…”

Imagine that both of you are struggling, a key figure in the both of your lives now suddenly gone. How what had once been tasks separated between two parents now rested solely on one.

The phrase ‘It will be alright’ was growing to be a challenge one to believe for Percival who had to get used to the role of both breadwinner and a single parent when he got home. Hey may have been an auror and had participated in the wizarding effort in the First World War, but Nora had been a homemaker of the two, and (Y/N) knew that, so while she was at most patient with him, she did occasionally grow annoyed with his habits, or she would just cry to cry and it would frustrate him. One night Percival returned home early, his mother having to leave as she didn’t feel all that well. Elaine smiled and patted his arm.

“She’s getting ready for bed.” She said and Percival glanced over towards the bathroom and Elaine chuckled, before nudging a book into his hands.

“The Tales of Beedle the Bard?”

“She loves it when you read to her. We were in the middle of The Wizard and the The Hopping Pot.” She said softly, blinking when her son continued to stare at the book. “What?”

“I forgot that…I just thought…I thought she was rebelling about going to sleep.”

“Oh…Percy.”

“I can’t do this.”

“This doesn’t sound like something the new Director of Magical Security would say, hm?”

“Mother, dealing with criminals and raising my daughter are two different things.”

“Yes, they are. But both involve confidence and patience, Percival. She’s just as much in new territory as you are.” Elaine stated softly, patting his arm. “Take things slow. They don’t have to be righted in one night.”

Percival sighed and nodded. She patted his cheek before exiting the home. Percival sighed before walking down the hall, slowing when the bathroom door opened and (Y/N) plodded out, wearing her nightgown, hair damp from her bath. She paused, blinking innocently at Percival who bent down, smiling tiredly.

“Hi Sweetheart.”

“Hi Papa…”

“I…figured out what you were trying to tell me last time…” He said softly, holding the book up and she cocked her head, “and I’m sorry for not remembering, Sweetheart. But…Grandma told me that you would want to finish reading The Wizard and the Hopping Pot. Is that alright?” He asked and his heart ached as her eyes lit up and she nodded rapidly. He picked her up, feeling her curl up against him as he reached her room and only then did she slide out of his grip and snuggled up in her blankets as he sat down on the edge. She shifted around, her tiny head resting on his forearm as he flipped the book open to where the bookmark was and began to read, softly and soothing. He kept going through story after story until he felt her grow limp next to him and looking down, seeing that her large (Y/E/C) had closed, her breathing evening out. Slowly, he closed the book and settled her back, tucking her in and smiled softly, kissing her brow. Yes…it’d be a struggle…but they’d work through it.

They were Graves.

They could do it.

Imagine that you visit him all you can at his work when you’re older. The aurors there are practically family to you. Little do you know that your visits make them want to work towards a better world for you to live in.

Percival sighed as he slumped back in his desk, rubbing his brow. Merlin, he could use a drink. Five cases, a mixture in status, two complete, one still being investigated, and two about ready to be completed. But all had one thing in common.

Death.

Growing unrest in Europe by the dark wizard, Gellert Grindelwald was beginning to make its way to America and it was causing more and more outbursts by rebellious wizards and witches.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in.”

“Mister Graves, I have a little lady here who says she’s bringing you dinner.” His secretary commented and he looked up to see a now six year old (Y/N) coming in, barely reaching the woman’s hip. She beamed at the sight of him and he held back the chuckle.

“Thank you, Matilda.” He replied kindly and the woman left, leaving (Y/N) there who held up a bag.

“Ms. Trollope said she had extra!” She chirped happily and Percival withheld the sigh. Ms. Trollope, their elderly neighbor who had taken over babysitting when his mother returned to the countryside. Of course. He looked at his pocket watch.

“Am I that late?”

“I dunno.” She replied “Ms. Trollope needed to go shopping, so she said she’d drop me off here.”

“I see,” He replied with a smile, and then tapped a piece of paper that he pulled out, looking at the drawings on them “and this?”

“Another drawing!!” She chirped in response and he smiled.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm!” She remarked, still looking in the bag to see what exactly her nanny had left them, not noticing when Percival slowly opened a drawer filled with her drawings. It was an escape for him. Whenever the missions or the cases became too hard, too violent, when his faith in humanity was at its lowest, those pictures kept him going.

“So…what did you and Ms. Trollope do?”

“Went to the park. Saw some ruffians.”

“Ruffians? Who taught you that word?”

“That’s what Ms. Trollope calls them, mostly when Mr. Simon’s there. Ms. Trollope called him a ruffian too.”

“Well if any ‘ruffians’ try anything with you, Papa will make sure they stop.” He promised. Oh and he would definitely make sure that if any idiot was dumb enough to whistle at his daughter in his presence would learn a lesson with haste.

“Really?”

“Mhm. People who are ‘ruffians’ are bad. You have to look for someone who loves you and you love them.” He commented, taking out a small box with what looked like some bread and taking a bite out of it.

“Well, I do love someone.”

He promptly choked on said piece of bread. Coughing loudly he looked at her in panic.

“A-and that would be who?”

She giggled and skipped over to him and kissed his cheek.

“You, Papa!!”

He chuckled weakly, his heart slowly returning to its regular speed, kissing the girl’s brow.

“Well that’s good to hear. I love you too sweetheart.”

She beamed and giggled and he smiled as he sat her down in a chair, helping her with picking out some of Trollope’s dinner suggestions.

Imagine when a few more years passed, and you’re ten now and it’s 1926. And that year is the year that everything changes once again.

“Papa, is everything ok?”

He looked up and exhaled loudly, stretching as he took a sip from his mug. No, nothing was ok. His contacts from Europe were suggesting that Grindelwald’s followers were infiltrating America and the world was becoming a scarier place to raise a child in.

“There’s a bit of some stressful events going on at work. Nothing to worry about.” He muttered gently, smiling tiredly. But (Y/N) didn’t seem convinced.

“Does it have to do with that Credence boy? The one you’ve met a few times?” She asked, cocking her head to the side.

“He’s a different case.”

“I feel bad for him, Papa.”

Percival sighed, ruffling her hair as she cracked an egg open. She glanced at him, pouting slightly.

“Just be careful…” she muttered softly and he smiled.

“I always am. Be good alright? I’ll probably be home late.” He said and she nodded.

“Okay. Have a good day at work!” She called out and he waved before pulling on his coat and leaving, closing the door with a solid click.

If he had known what that day would bring, he would have stayed at home as he watched Grindelwald change.

“Now, don’t worry Percival. Your daughter will be in excellent hands, so you have nothing to fear.” Grindelwald remarked, finishing with his tie and glancing back at the bound man who was glaring at him, rage in his eyes, watching as Grindelwald’s transformation began to reach completion, horrifying realization weighing heavily on his shoulders and he jerked against his bindings again. “You’re only hurting yourself there, Percival.” Grindelwald commented kindly, walking around Percival.

“If you touch her, I swear, I’ll-”

“I’m afraid I’ll be taking your threat with a grain of salt, Percival.” Grindelwald said tying the gag around his mouth. “After all there isn’t much you can do at this point.”

All Percival could feel as he sat in the cell Grindelwald had left him in, bound and gagged, was panic chilling the blood in his veins, causing him to return to his struggles against his bindings in a desperate way only a father could. A madman was now in the same home as his child, and he didn’t know what Grindelwald would do to her.

His baby girl was now in the same home as a murderer…

And he couldn’t do anything about it.

Grindelwald made it a habit to tell Percival updates of what his daughter was doing when he came for more samples for polyjuice. One time, when he came in…he was annoyed.

“You’re daughter is rather impudent, I’ll have you know.” A voice echoed down the hall and Percival looked up blearily, his gaze darkening as Grindelwald came into his cell. His gaze never left the other man, watching as his face slowly distorted and melted away, blond hair replacing dark, dark eyes changing to heterochromic. He was exhausted and unsure how long he had been there, his head dropped back down, staring at his knees. Grindelwald glanced at the beaten man as though he had spoken.

“I suppose her rude nature comes from her mother, along with that ugly glaring.” He commented and Percival swallowed, pushing down the anger. “At the rate she’s going have that look stuck on her face…”

While a part of him was proud, because he realized that his daughter could sense something is vastly different about him at the moment, otherwise she wouldn’t be as rebellious around him, another part was terrified. It was clear, Grindelwald was growing either annoyed with her behavior, or suspicious.

And if he grew too suspicious, Percival feared what Grindelwald would do.

“Still…there’s a part of her I rather like. Stubborn,” Grindelwald commented easily, and Percival felt his stomach roll, “powerful too. Only ten years old, and I can sense it. Your bloodline runs strongly in her, no doubt about that. Not that I personally would have any use for her…but who knows, give it a few years…and I’m sure one of my followers could find some use of her.”

Rage sang in Percival’s blood and Grindelwald watched in amusement as the man’s head snapped back up and he strained against his bindings, blood dripping to the floor, his face red in his fury.

“No? Come now, Percival…she’ll have to marry eventually.” He teased. Percival struggled, letting out a muffled grunt, and he could feel his bindings seeming to snap from behind him. He took the chance and rushed to the surprised dark wizard and tackled Grindelwald, the dark wizard grunting in pain.

“You or your followers touch my daughter, I swear I-”

Grindelwald’s hand slammed into his chest, and a shrieking blast sent Percival flying backwards. He landed on his side, rolling a bit as he gasped for air, his chest burning as though someone had dug a white-hot spear into his side. He choked out a groan as Grindelwald walked over and pressed a foot into Percival’s wrist, aiming his wand down.

“Diffindo!”

Screams echoed in the room as a light green glow illuminated the room, sending ghostly shadows through the room.

“I can warn you now Graves.” Grindelwald said, wiping the blood that dripped from his chin when he was finally done as he stared at the wheezing man, finally removing his foot from Percival’s wrist, the latter’s body shaking from the pain he clutched over the bleeding side of his face. “If I’m discovered, I won’t go down without taking someone with me. And I think your daughter will be the perfect one to go with me, don’t you think?”

“D…don’t you…”

“You see Graves, that’s not something for you to order around now, is it?” Grindelwald said and Percival swallowed as a red glow began to grow at the tip.

“I have my own mission here, Percival. And I will not let you or that daughter of yours stand in my way.”

He didn’t know how long he had been down there now. Grindelwald had been strangely absent for awhile, making him wonder if he had completed his mission and was leaving him there to starve to death.

He thought he could hear voices. He was imagining it…he had to be.

“-aves!! Director Graves!!”

He forced his eyes open and looked up, the chains holding him down rattling loudly.

“We found him!! Over here!”

Percival flinched as bright lights lit up his cell and he covered his face, trying to see.

“Mr. Graves…”

And he almost wept at the familiar, friendly voice.

“Tina…” He rasped out and then his mind reconnected, almost as though a veil had been pulled away. “Tina, Grindelwald, he-”

“We know, we’ve already caught him,” Tina soothed, resting a hand gently on his arm, “everything will be alright, Mr. Graves, ssshhh…”

“Where’s my daughter?!”

“She’s safe, I promise.” Tina soothed, but Percival seemed to not hear her shaking his head, his shoulders heaving, Grindelwald’s threat ringing through his head and she finally took note of his injuries. “Merlin’s breath…what has he done to you…you must be freezing.”

Freezing? He was burning, everything was hot. But that didn’t matter.

He needed to know if (Y/N) was safe.

“No…you don’t understand, Grindelwald said-”

“(Y/N) is safe, I promise. She’s been staying with my sister and me.”

He heard the words, but they refused to attach to his mind, as his vision began to wane. He could hear them talking around him, but the world finally grew dark.

“I passed out because I was exhausted. I’m fine now.”

“Starved, beaten, fever, a destroyed eye, thank Merlin the monster didn’t take both, missing fingers…” the nurse listed to Seraphina Picquery as though Percival hadn’t even spoken, “but that’s not even mentioning the torture he’s probably gone through, and-”

“I’m not deaf!” He snapped. Stalling…they were obviously stalling. For what, he didn’t want to think about, Grindelwald’s threat echoing in his head. Tina could have easily just told him that (Y/N) had been staying with them to keep him calm.

The thought of having to bury his baby girl next to her mother was becoming a real possibility and-

A knock sounded on the door.

“Come in.” Picquery called out smoothly, cutting the healer off. The blonde woman that Percival recognized as Tina’s younger sister Queenie poked her head in.

“I brought…ah…hello, Madam President. Is it alright for…”

The healer seemed annoyed, and interrupted the young woman, “I don’t think-”

“I’ll allow it.”

“President Picquery, I must insist-”

“It’s probably the only thing that will calm Mister Graves down.”

“Stop acting like I’m deaf, Seraphina!” Percival snapped, not caring who he was addressing to at that moment, though she didn’t seem all that surprised, “Of all the things that I went through, I wasn’t deafened by Grindel-”

His rant cut off as the door swung further open and there stood his daughter, clutching Queenie’s sleeve, her eyes widening at the sight of him. It was like the world had just stopped for him and everyone in the room just vanished as he stared at her, his eyes darting to every visible piece of her, cataloging everything into memory, checking to see if there was any wound that Grindelwald had inflicted onto her. When he noticed how pale she was, something in him snapped and he struggled to get out of bed.

“Mister Graves, I implore you to stay in your bed, you can’t just-” Her warning was cut off as he had barely gotten his feet on the ground before the (Y/N) practically tackled him, clinging to him and sobbing.

Real. She was real.

Not dead, not hurt.

He clutched her tightly, pulling her close, ignoring his injuries, more concerned in seeing if his daughter was unharmed. Seraphina looked at the other two women. Unspoken was the command, but the others left with her, the door closing softly.

“Are you alright?” He rasped and she could only nod, clinging to him, “…did he hurt you?” He managed to ask, pulling away to make sure she didn’t lie to him, but her response was she a hard shake of her head and the tension in his shoulders vanished, replaced by relief.

“Oh thank Merlin…I’m sorry…I’m sorry that he was even near you. I’m so sorry.”

“No…I-I’m sorry…”

“What are you apologizing for?” He whispered, brushing his thumbs against her cheeks. She sniffled as she looked at the bandage on his face.

“I-I knew something was wrong but I didn’t know what…and I didn’t tell anyone. I’m so sorry, Papa. I should have-”

“Ssshhh…you did nothing wrong,” he promised, “alright? I don’t know what he would have done if you said anything…it’s better you didn’t say anything about your suspicions.”

And Merlin, he didn’t want to imagine what Grindelwald would have done.

“…Are you alright?” She finally asked, her tears slowly stopping, her eyes glistening. He sighed, debating on lying to her…but it would be cruel to her since he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a long while.

“No. I’m not. I don’t think I’ll be…fine…for awhile, Sweetheart. But that’s not your fault.” He added quickly as she sniffled, “Okay? That’s not your fault in the slightest.”

“But if I-”

“No. Sweetheart, keeping you safe was the most important thing to me.” He interrupted, and she sniffled again. "I'll be alright. I promise. I promise."

“…it will be alright. You’ll see…” He said softly, repeating what his mother had told him years ago.

“You’ll see…”

It’s not a completely happy ending. While physically Percival Graves is discharged after a few weeks later with a clean bill of health, mentally and emotionally he still needs to heal, his mind ever fragile. You’re right by his side to help along the way, ever the loyal daughter. You knew things would never be FINE, at least fine the way you had grown used to. But there would be a different fine, eventually…

You were Graves.

You knew both of you could do it.

It was in your blood.

[techouspeaks]

Precuruary: Mahou Tsukai Precure

Finally, I review the series that seems to be the most hated Precure series, even more so than Doki Doki and Happiness Charge! I also reveal why I actually kinda like it....

“Asahina Mirai, a soon-to-be student in junior high, witnesses an object fall from the sky one night during spring break. Excitedly exclaiming that it could be a witch, Mirai sets off the next morning with her beloved toy teddy bear Mofurun to search the park. At the park, Mirai witnesses a girl soaring through the air on a broom. Excited and curious, Mirai barrages the girl with questions. The young witch introduces herself as Riko and explains that she's come to the "No Magic" World to search for certain objects. The two girls notice that they're wearing similar pendants. Meanwhile, Batty, a companion of Dokurokushe the Wizard of Darkness, appears in front of Mirai and Riko! Batty demands that Riko hand over the "Linkle Stone Emerald", which Riko herself had been looking for. To make things worse, Batty uses dark magic to create a monster known as a Yokubaru! Mirai, Riko, and Mofurun join hands. With the magic words "Cure Up RaPaPa!", their pendants shines a magical light over them! The legendary witches "Pretty Cure" are born!”

So, why does everyone seem to despise this series so much? Well, the main issue with this series is it’s writing and execution. The plot tends to throw some immature or just plain weird scenes at random and it seems like the writers just didn’t know what to do, so they just put whatever they thought was a good idea at the time. The plot is also a bit rushed and sadly, the characters suffer a lack of proper development. Put it short, the plot and the development is just a big mess. I heard it was because the writer and director kept clashing, like one wanted to something real dark and epic like Go! Princess and the other wanted it to stay cutesy and safe. I really wished they had stuck with the more darker route. I mean it’s a series about witches.Dark and witches go hand in hand together. The cutesy parts can get a little boring too for some folks, I didn’t mind it too much. 

So, despite all that, why do I actually like it and even get a little defensive for it? Shouldn’t I hate it like I do Doki Doki and Happiness Charge? Well I’ll list my reasons in so is to be consistent, unlike the plot of Maho Tsukai.

1.) Kinda likable characters.

I will admit, while they’re not the most deepest or complex of characters, most of the MTP characters are pretty likable. 

(Well okay, I said MOST, not all.)

I really do like Riko. Yeah, she can be snobby but this melts away rather fast and the way she does it, is very appropriate for her age. She’s a kid that wants to be more grown up, so she tries to look impressive. She’s has a lot of insecurities that come natural for someone her age and she acts a lot like how I expect a kid would act.

Which speaking of which, I feel like the three main trio are actually suppose to be in Elementary School, but they felt they needed to have them be in junior high. They don’t even look 13! They look more so 10 years old at the oldest but decided to changed it to 13 so is to fit with the other precure franchise. Come on, Toei! This franchise is aimed at elementary school kids anyway, we wouldn’t mind if you made them younger. Look at Cardcaptor Sakura and some of the older magical girls series. Some of the main cast in those are 10!

Anyway, I also like Ha-chan. Yes, she can be annoying at times, but I thought she was pretty cute and I really like her design as Cure Felice. She’s absolutely gorgeous in this form. 

I also really enjoy some of the kids, teachers and staff members at the Magic School, especially Kochou. At long last we get a handsome male supporting character that is both useful, interesting, likable and not look like a creeper (Such as Joe from Doki Doki)! His relationship with Kushy is very sweet. Some question whether or not it’s gay. I kinda wonder myself. I would be lying if I said I didn’t see this, that’s for sure. It could be just a real firm friendship but well, you ship who you want.

Bad ass design too! Though I really question on why he’s wearing a lampshade for a hat....

Mofurun can be a little unsettling to me at times and get a little annoying with that baby like voice, but they did grew on me. (Yes, I see Mofurun as non binary because well, teddy bears don’t have reproduction organs) I like how Mofurun is useful in many other ways besides being the transformation device. Most fairies that aid with transformation, tend to fall flat when it comes to being useful in other ways. Mofurun can sense linkle stones and was willing to risk their life to protect the stones from getting in the wrong hands. That’s pretty solid for me. Go teddy!

Not to mention, but Mofurun as Cure Mofurun is just adorable! I wish that Mofurun was actually a witch doll with Cure Mofurun’s design. It would have been way cuter and well...None of the Cure Mofurun plushies would be over 40 bucks! (US dollars). Speaking of which...

2.) The Relationship Between Mirai and Mofurun

As someone that was really close to her stuffed animals, I kinda understand Mirai’s feelings towards Mofurun. In fact, I think most kids get the connection. It’s common for kids to love their toys, especially a toy given to them by someone really close to them. The belief of it gaining a personality is also a common thing kids like to do and also a belief in Japanese culture. The belief goes if you love something such as a toy or even an accessory so much, that object will gain a soul and that soul will protect you for loving it so much. (Same if you treat an object badly and the object hates you). It’s kinda silly but this is a nice touch to the culture and to childhood. Well Mirai is certainly not my favorite, she’s really bland on her own, the relationship with Mofurun is pretty cute and again, I can see a young kid having a close bond with their stuffed animal. When I was a kid, I use to pretend my stuffed animals had personalities too and especially loved this tiger plush, given to me by my grandma.

3.) This is short but the nods to old Precure series and designs.

The whole holding hands and use of attacks, even the speeches before the power up, are actually nods to old Precure series that also did this. It’s kinda nice of them contributing to older series. 

The designs of the outfits, especially Sapphire and Over the Rainbow are really well done and the transformations are fun to watch. The animation can be a little mediocre but beautiful in the transformations and I’m glad they decided to just do mostly 2D animation this time, with only resorting to 3D in the endings.

4.) The Witch World and How They Convey Witches As A Whole.

This is what I think MTP does a lot better than Ojamajo Doremi. How they convey witches. Well they use the same similar tropes such as the pointy hats and the broom flying, the way they convey witches is kinda surprising and kinda respectful. Believe it or not, witches do exist in a way. They don’t fly on brooms and the magic isn’t as instant as shown in this series. I’m mainly talking about witches and connection towards nature, as well as some of the lore tied in.

In the Magical World, nature seems to be a major key element to the magic of witches, which is true to actual witch beliefs. From their wands coming from trees, to taking care of mystical animals and right down to how the Magical World is made, is direct tie in with the belief of witches. 

 In some lore, mainly Wiccan, there is a belief that there is a Goddess and horned king in charge of taking care of the world.  Mother Rapapa and the Deustmas generals kinda seem to be a representation of that belief. I dunno if that was their main intention, but kudo points for adding in anyway, especially if it was.

I also like how witches in this world are just ordinary people that just happen to use magic as a passionate subject. That’s what I found inconsistent in Ojamajo Doremi. In Doremi, it seems like witches are not human. There’s not even wizards in their world. They’re in another one. They’re like some sort of weird creature not connected with people at all, since they can’t be found out by humans thus turn into frogs. Yet, somehow humans can become witches when given these magic jelly bean looking things.

Plus the designs of the witches in Doremi I found disrespectful and lazy! At least in Mahou Tsukai, witches and wizards are treated like their own person, with their own style. Yeah, they have the typical hats and such but they at least try to make them interesting. I also didn’t like how magic was given so easily in Doremi. With Mirai, she had to kinda prove herself that she was willing to put in effort to do magic. Yeah, it consisted of saying the magic words over and over, but at least it just wasn’t given to her like “Here some magic jelly bean things. Now you can do magic!” Part of the belief in witches is putting spiritual effort into the thing you desire. Doremi it seemed more like the magic was coming from the seeds, then themselves. As for Reiko, well, she comes from a line of strong witches so magic is born in her and she doesn’t get good in her magic until later.

5.) Deusmast Villains

Oh, come on, you knew this was coming! Deustmast generals are the best in the series. There the ones that caused some people to come back and watch this series again, especially Orba! They’re threatening, they’re smarter and they have great designs! 

Fun fact is not only are these guys really cool but also may have from different beliefs, including from witches. Not only can they presumably be based on the horned king of Wiccan and possibly (though more obvious) the Muslim belief of Jin/genies, but also the belief that help create Halloween. In ancient times before people started really getting into religious beliefs, people turned to witches to help  fight off monsters and demons that were said to appear mostly during Halloween. The witches would dress kids up in costumes, to confuse the monsters into thinking the kids are one of their own demon brethren. They would also use spells and incantations to fight them off.

I heard they were too scary for kids. Too scary my butt! DysDark villains were far from “cute” and went all out dastardly at times! If Precure starts getting lame villains because of that notion, it will be forever before we have a good series like Go! Princess! Threatening villains help create intensity, making you feel there’s more at stake for our heroes!

Either way, the Deusmast generals were certainly a lot better than the Idiot Trio. No, I refuse to call them “Dark Magicians”. That’s an insult to Dark Magician from Yugioh and I refuse to stoop that level!

Plus, come on. Orba is like the hottest character to come out of a magical girl series! He’s a package! He’s a book worm, he’s a hot without his glasses and when he powers up, he’s a hunk! It’s like 3 hot dudes in one! Who knew you could get such in a show aimed at kids! Plus, it’s said he’s based on the one wing angel and fallen angels. I believe that because he certainly looks like one. I always said his face is angelic and it is!

So, yeah, there’s a bit to like and appreciate from this series. Some people may disagree and if you’re one of them that’s fine. I can understand it. I’m a big fan of anything witch related as you can probably tell, so I’m usually forgiving. The only witch series I don’t like is The Familiar of Zero, mainly because I hated the main character and to some extend Doremi. I do like the idea of musical witches and they did convey what childhood is like real well, but the characters were annoying to me and again, I just didn’t like how the witches are represented in that series. 

So, I do like Mahou Tsukai a bit actually. In fact, it’s become my second favorite series. I like it not as a good series but as a guilty pleasure. I appreciate what it was trying to do, quite a few characters are likable, just a bit under developed and the ideas put in it, is pretty interesting. Sadly, I have to judge this as a whole so I’m gonna have to rate it a bit low.

I give Mahou Tsukai Precure 4 and a half stars out of 10. My recommendation is for anyone that can enjoy a series that’s cute, with some nice ideas thrown in there and don’t mind that the plot can be a bit messy. Put it short, if you like cute guilty pleasures, you’ll like this fine. Some of the bad moments can be laughable especially some of the dialog. Just whatever you do, don’t watch episode 50. It’s pointless and this is coming from a fan. I rather like to believe that episode just didn’t exist.

If you’re looking for a series that is intense with a good story line, you’re better off skipping this whole series, but I do recommend it more than Doki Doki or Happiness Charge. At least it tries to stand out with some interesting characters and ideas. Those two series are just horrible and the only good idea of Happiness Charge was different precure from other countries. 

**** /

Level: “It’s okay.”

[adrias-au-rath-blog]

Adrias stood stalk still as he watched Slytherin house leave. The other houses were gathering around their own prefects, and he found himself trailing after the Ravenclaws as they began to leave. The prefects of Ravenclaw, Jonathan Blackwater and Susanna Proffit, both tall, slender and bespectacled, lead the new house students up a winding staircase to the Ravenclaw common room entrance. It was a door with no handle. Only an eagle knocker. It reminded him of home; the large eagle statue used as a portkey by his father. The statue had been in the house for countless generations, originating back to one of Adrias’ grandfathers who had kept and bred golden eagles and the giant, magical eagles known as Ghetsari, which could lift a muggle car easily into the air, for a sport known as Falconry. The prefects looked as though they could be twins. Both with sharp, angular features, analytical eyes and dark haired. Jonathan spoke first. “You’ll notice something about our common room entrance.” Susanna spoke next. “It’s obvious, so someone please speak up and state the observation.” The new students were silent for a moment before a short, skinny boy with khaki colored hair spoke up. “There’s no door handle. The bronze knocker there will ask us riddles in order to gain admittance.” His voice was small but he spoke confidently. He’d obviously done his research beforehand. Adrias studied the boy carefully. “Precisely.” Remarked Jonathan. “If you can not answer the questions correctly, tell me, how might you still get in?” A girl spoke out this time, almost as tall as the prefects, but with a round face and short, curly hair. “You can’t! I know all about the common room entrances and there is no other way in to our tower, at least none that I could find through reading.” Susanna replied this time. “True the door won’t open for you if you can’t answer the riddles, but still incorrect. There is one other way to get in.” “By waiting for someone else…” Adrias mumbled, half trying to answer, half trying to speak only to himself. “What was that?” Jonathan and Susanna said in unison, both looking toward him. The other first years looked around to him, many recognizing him as the boy who went to the Slytherin table and whispering. Adrias hesitated. “By… w-waiting for someone else to answer correctly.. You can go in with them… right?” He could still hardly use his voice. The shock of being put in the wrong house was only just beginning to loosen its grip on his throat. Jonathan smiled, obviously pleased that one of his lot, the boys, gave the answer. “Yyes! That is correct!” Susanna nodded, “Let me remind you all that it will become tiresome to you and annoying to the rest of us if you rely on this secondary method. It points to laziness. You were sorted into this house for a reason. Live up to it.” She turned to the door. “Let us in, please.” For a moment there was silence. Then the head of the eagle spoke with a melodious voice.. “What has a head, a tail, is brown, and has no legs?” Susanna turned to face the students. “Well?” A boy near the back called out confidently, “A brown snake, of course!” Jonathan and Susanna both frowned. The door did not budge. They obviously knew the answer. “I like where you’re coming from; simple logic; but no. You are incorrect. Anyone else?” Adrias racked his brain, thinking of everything he possibly could. ‘Puzzles to get into my blasted room.. ridiculous’ he thought to himself bitterly. After a few moments, as the prefects allowed everyone do practice their thinkers, he decided it might do well to think outside the magical box. Muggle money, coins in particular, had heads and tails, so to speak. And pennies would be considered brown technically. But did he really want to risk looking so dumb? Would they really be asked a question pertaining to the nonmagical world? He held it to himself instead of speaking up, which he immediately regretted as he noticed Jonathan glance at him expectantly. But it was too late. “A penny.” Susanna sighed as she turned to the door. Adrias could hear some of the other students mumbling to themselves and to others around them. “A penny..?” “What’s a penny..?” “Blimey, that’s muggle money! Muggle money from America, at that!” “We’re supposed to know codswallap like that?” “Looks like I’ve got some more reading to do..” Jonatha spoke up as the door slid open. “That one was considered easy. Study hard, Firstyears.” They filed in after the prefects. They entered a room filled with books and tables, and Adrias noticed a beautiful white marble statue of the house Patroness beside the door that he assumed lead to the dormitories. Immediately Adrias could feel drowsiness set it, and the prefects lead them to their respective dorms. He was partnered with the shorter boy who had correctly answered a question previously. They silently went about checking their luggage which was awaiting them upon their beds, changed into nightwear and got into bed. Adrias had his wand in hand as he lay in bed. The wind blowing through the windows was so soothing.. Maybe he could deal with not being sorted into Slytherin.. He was still at a school for Magic. Surrounded by witches and wizards apart from his family. No longer surrounded by muggles… Maybe this could work.. It was an hour or two before he finally drifted to sleep, without realizing it.

At seven o'clock Adrias was awoken by a soft, wind chimy tinkling sound emanating from the very air around him. It was so soothing, yet wouldn’t allow him to fall asleep. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and saw the other boy doing the same. He figured he should have introduced himself earlier, but he didn’t either, so oh well. “I’m Sam. Sam Waylund.” The boy had suddenly made his way over to Adrias. “I’m Adrias au Rath..” he replied in kind, then grabbed his wand, dressed In his new house robes and headed for the door. His heart fell a bit as he thought of being separated from his sister. They had so looked forward to being in Slytherin together. “Are you pureblood?” Sam asked randomly, having gotten dressed as well and was now following Adrias out the door. “My mom is a muggle and my dad’s a wizard, but he didn’t teach me to use magic before coming here.” Adrias was quiet a moment. For such a shy looking boy, he apparently wasn’t, this Sam. “Um, yes, I’m Pureblood. My Family are all magicians, as far as I know, and they use magic all the time. I picked up on some stuff and they taught me other stuff. I never had a proper wand, though. This is my first.” He held up his ebony wand, admiring it. Sam was almost gawking. “That’s brilliant! You can use magic! I’m glad you’re in our house! Pap knew I would be in Ravenclaw. So was he and his brothers and my grandpap. Imagine someone of your skill in Slytherin.. I saw you sit at their table. People were whispering about you. I heard Amy Nimbleton say your whole family tree is full of Slytherins.” Sam’s face was grave. Adrias’ face grew warm. “I really wanted to be in Slytherin.. My sister is there, and yea, my family were all Slytherins up until my older brother was put in Gryffindor, and now I’m in Ravenclaw. My parents will be so displeased.” He said with a tinge of venom in his voice. He had completely forgotten to look for his brother during the sorting. Sam’s face twisted in confusion. “Wha-.. Why?” He asked pointedly. “They’re no good! Why on earth would you want to be one of them?” Sam’s tone had changed. He could tell that the boy was not impressed by this. “I-I dunno.. I just.. I like the black and green.” He said stupidly. “I’m going to go have breakfast..” He added before the conversation could sink further. He wanted to find Antonia. But Sam was not about to be done with him yet. “You don’t mind if I go with you?” He asked. This was not how Adrias imagined his morning beginning. “Uh, sure..” They walked silently together to the breakfast hall.

———————-

Antonia stretched lazily before sitting up, rubbing her eyes and waving a hand in the direction of the bathroom. “Accio brush.” He said sleepily, and a solid silver brush whizzed from the doorway into her hand. She stroked her hair with it through half-closed eyes, swinging her legs out from the covers and over the side of the bed, stepping off and striding over to the mirror. When satisfied, she placed the brush down and gave her nightgown a look over in the mirror before grasping the the sides of the skirt and twirling about once. Upon facing the mirror again she was draped in her new Slytherin house robes, custom fit just for her, elegant. Her mother would never have allowed less, which suited Antonia just fine. “Now then.” She mused to herself, fixing her hair in the mirror, “what was it mother said? 'A proper Slytherin always makes friends of her house. Her house is her family and family extends its boons beyond school.’” She recalled to herself. Her eyes fell upon her sleeping roommate. “Well, we must begin somewhere.” She sang softly into the mirror, a smile cutting smoothly onto her face. Her smile faltered just slightly as she remembered Adrias would not be waiting for her in the Slytherin common room. She hoped dearly that he was taking his disappointment with grace and not lashing out. Antonia turned to the sleeping girl, folding her arms, willing her to wake up so as to not have to walker her up herself. She tapped her foot lightly with a bit of impatience.

@kadenlafuatte