#'you are certainly not Thomas or Percy but I would also look after you' THIS HAS ME CACKLING HAHA-

[cerenemuxse]

I love these so much, ty!!!! I shall treasure them nwn

Happy (early because its not the 14th yet for me .3.) Valentine's Day! 🌙💙

[gloamses]

useless infodump that no one cares about: I’m trying to figure out what exactly was my main problem with the sunbearer trials beyond just the fact that I find the author’s writing kind of odd and bad to read

and I know it’s a book for 16 year olds but you know what I resent the idea that we can’t ask for good literature for teens, especially literature that clears the low bar of making thematic and grammatical sense. and I just read a different queer trans fantasy YA that was actually really good. so

I think it’s that the human sacrifice element boned it. the pitch was clearly “percy jackson meets the hunger games” which like ok you can do that but percy jackson is fairly lighthearted middle-grade hijinks and hunger games is relentlessly grim young adult with kind of a lot to say, so that’s a bit of a tough balancing act isn’t it. it’s very much not impossible - a lot of myth is pretty bloody, ancient mayans certainly did plenty of human sacrifice, and a darker fantasy in which children compete to either do a ritual sacrifice or become a ritual sacrifice is potentially a compelling idea. but I don’t think aiden thomas, despite a penchant for cosmetically-dark topics, is really great at maintaining that kind of tone.

script-doctoring to make this a middle-grade book, the stakes are plenty high enough if the trials are mortally dangerous even for people with advanced magical powers - the less-powerful main character is already in peril just by being there and will be lucky to make it out alive. he obviously can’t win. the attitude of “I’m at a disadvantage and everyone thinks I’m going to die but I’m going to live AND maybe even win to stick it to the bullies” makes sense and is a reasonable goal for a middle-grade protagonist

but when “winning to stick it to the bullies” means you get the honor of stabbing one of your unresisting peers through the chest on a sacrificial altar, that attitude is not merely flippant but actively makes you kind of a monster lmao. the main character claims that, being one of the most disadvantaged contestants, he understands the gravitas of the situation and the fact that someone’s going to die at the end, while everyone else is being way too cavalier and acting like it’s just a game. except he also acts like that. and I don’t think he’s meant to be a hypocrite. he has moments of regret wherein he feels like he’s being selfish and not looking out for the other disadvantaged contestant, but he never really goes back on the idea that winning the trials would be a net good for him and his community. it feels like, in addition to aiden thomas just gravitating towards a lighter tone, the child-sacrifice bit was a late-process addition to raise the stakes and make it more mature (more YA and less middle-grade, because stylistically it feels extremely middle-grade), after which the rest of the tone was not adjusted accordingly. very weird reading experience.

[calummss]

Thomas Shelby Hogwarts Professor Short Story

masterlist other chapters

Chapter 1: Pretty Cute

summary: a stranger catches your eye whilst shopping in diagon alley

pairing: professor! thomas shelby x fem student! reader

words: 1.6k

a/n: i asked, you answered, i delivered

The warm bright sun blazed onto the cobblestoned street of Diagon Alley. The bustling streets were filled with fellow wizards and witches who were flowing by the shops, hoping to get their essentials before school or work started again.

You were sitting outside of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, a small table right in front of the shop as you watched the crowd of people sway past you. The twins Fred and George were also sitting at the table, with you in the middle. Your tongue picked up the taste of sticky toffee pudding, your favourite. Fred and George each had a scoop of butterbeer and early grey with lavender.

It had become a habit or a sort of tradition to get Florean’s ice cream with the Weasleys since they started attending Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hermione was off somewhere with Harry and Ron, whilst your family, the Grangers, had met with the Weasley family to get the back-to-school-shopping-list ticked off.

‘Y/n,’ Fred turned his face to you with a playful smile and you had a feeling you knew what he was going to ask. ‘Since you’re in your 7th year now can we get your schoolwork from your 5th year?’

‘No, absolutely not.’ You answered back.

‘Why not?’ George asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. ‘We’re friends!’

You sat back in your chair, your ice cream still in your hand. ‘Because it would be very obvious that it’s your work.’ You scolded. ‘And second, you need to know. How else will you get on in the Wizarding World?’

‘You’re just like your sister.’ Fred exclaimed, continuing to eat his ice cream with narrowed eyes.

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Ron talks about Hermione and what she says,’ George said, him too taking licks from his ice cream.

‘Well she’s right.’ You answer truthfully. ‘Glad to know I have a smart little sister.’

You continued to engage in conversation with the exception of making fun of Percy as he walked past the three of you.

‘Who do you think the new Defence Against The Dark Arts professor will be?’ Fred spoke as the other conversation started to bore him.

‘I don’t know but I hope they’re good looking.’ You answered, not really paying attention to your surroundings and continued to eat your ice cream.

George chuckled and Fred let out a small laugh.

‘What?’ You reproached. ‘Us girls deserve it after Quirell and Lockhart.’

‘What about us boy?’ Fred moaned, George nodding his head vigorously. ‘Why can’t it be a pretty female professor?’

‘You already don’t pay attention in class,’ you suppress a laugh, falling back into your chair. ‘That would be the worst thing that could happen to the both of you.’

‘You’re not even in our year so how do you know that George and I aren’t excellent students?’

‘First: I’ve seen your report cards. Two: Remember when I interrupted your Transfiguration class with McGonagall because Pomfrey needed that golden cup back?’ You eyed both of them. ‘I saw you playing with Jordan’s tarantula, scaring the Ravenclaw girls that sat behind you…’

Fred and George stayed quiet in defeat.

‘Oh, move over.’ You raised your voice at Hermione and elbowed her to the side. Diagon Alley was packed as it was and you certainly didn’t need a squashed hug from your sister.

‘I can’t otherwise I would.’ She snapped back at you.

It was the end of August and everyone was trying to tick off the last items off their back-to-school-list. Every year was a hassle but you were happy regardless. This would be your last time buying school equipment. You were officially a 7th year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Only one year left and you would begin your new journey on becoming an actress, studying at the Wizarding Acadeyour of Dramatic Arts.

‘Y/n.’ You heard your mother call out your name. ‘Are you coming?’

You hadn’t noticed that your parents had continued to walk down the road without you. Just as you caught up with them, you noticed a rather tall and good looking man walk across the street and step into Amanuensis Quills.

‘Dad?’ You ran up to him. ‘Since I’m taking your N.E.W.T.S this year, I was wondering if it would be alright for me to buy a new quill? Mine’s scratchy and patchy.’ You asked, lying from ear to ear.

‘Sure, I’ll come with you.’

‘Oh no, I can go by yourself. I’m pretty sure Mum needs you at Flourish and Blotts. Hermione needs a lot of heavy books for her third year.’ You blurted out, trying to change his mind.

‘That’s true. Good thinking.’ He realised. ‘Here’s the money, but please don’t buy the most expensive one.’

‘I won’t.’ You yelled as your feet were already running towards the shop and when you stood in front of it you could see the man browse through various inks.

He was around 170cm, dark brown hair, almost black that seemed soft to the touch, a small amount of stubble across the lower half of his face. He was wearing a big, blue sweater that looked very old and worn. Underneath a pair of dark brown trousers and black shoes completed his look.

You hadn’t noticed how long you were staring into the window when Amandus Cordell, the owner of the shop, stood in front of the glass blocking your view.

‘Miss Granger,’ Amand bleated.

You removed your head from the dirty window and tiled your head with an awkward smile.

‘Are you going to be staring all day or are you planning on coming inside?’ He raised his eyebrow at you shortly before pulling the door open.

‘Sorry, Mr. Cordell.’ You walked into the shop, the wooden floor creaking under your heels.

‘What can I do for you?’ He stepped back behind the counter and re-adjusted his spectacles.

‘Well,’ you stepped to the counter taking a quick glance to the man that was still looking at the inks. ‘I need a new quill since I’ll be taking your N.E.W.T.S at the end of the school year. I need a quill that will write perfectly.’ You smiled.

‘I know just what you need.’ His index finger went up and with that he left.

Only the man and you were in the open room together and you could’ve sworn that the walls were coming closer, pushing you towards him. He’s been staring at those ink bottles for over 5 minutes. Surely he found what he had come in for.

You pretended to look at the catalogue that Mr. Cordell had set out for his customers, trying your best to not stare at him.

‘I noticed you staring earlier.’ A deep voice penetrated the silence.

Your head whipped towards the man who still hadn’t moved. He was holding an ink bottle in his hand but his head was still looking down.

‘Excuse me?’ You asked, not taking your eyes off him.

He turned around and looked you straight in the eyes. His blue eyes stared into yours until you could no longer hold it and broke off the eye contact. He was intimidating.

‘When I walked in here, I noticed you staring.’ He chuckled. ‘Don’t worry.’ he smiled. ‘I’m flattered.’

‘Oh that, I’m sorry, you just seemed familiar.’ You lied start to finish. You had never seen him nor know anyone that looks like him. His appearance caught your attention and you clearly couldn’t deny his attractiveness. Normally you would have minded your own business but you just couldn’t.

He moved closer, you remained in your place. Even if you could move, You’re sure you wouldn’t have.

‘I know, you know that that isn’t true.’ His frame stood in front of you as you gulped. ‘I wouldn’t be able to keep your eyes off you either.’ He breathed in your neck.

Goosebumps arose on your skin, your heart was pounding and your breath hitched as he removed his face from your ear. A smirk was painted across his face.

‘I-‘

‘Miss Granger, here would be the quill that I think would be a perfect fit.’ Mr. Cordell came out from the back. Deep down you thanked him. You had no words you could possibly think of saying to the man. You never ran out of things to say but right now at this given moment you were speechless.

You cleared your throat and turned your body away from him and went up to the counter.

‘It’s perfect. I’ll buy it.’ You said, trying to get out of the shop as fast as you could. It felt as though all the air was being sucked out of this place. A hand from behind placed down to sets of black ink, as you felt his chest swiftly on your back.

‘I’ll pay for these and the quill.’ The same voice from just a few seconds ago said.

‘Total comes to 5 Galleons.’ Mr. Cordell said as the man placed the coins onto the counter.

‘You’re welcome.’ He breathed down your neck before grabbing his stuff and walking towards the door.

‘Thank you.’ You yelled back but he was already out of the front door. As soon as the door closed you could feel your lungs expanding for air.

‘Are you alright?’

‘Perfectly adequate. Thank you Mr. Cordell.’ You breathed heavily. You grabbed your quill and returned to your family that were standing in front of Flourish and Blotts with the Weasleys and Harry.

No matter how much you tried to forget about the encounter, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. There was something about him but you couldn’t figure it out and probably never would. Your first and last time seeing that stranger.

[wysteriaisapenguin]

Every Little Thing I Do - Part 1

After over-exhausting himself from pulling a heavy passenger train, Edward needed some time to recover. This left everyone worried about him. After everything he’s done, they decided it was about time for them to show him their support in their own way. 

(Railway Roundabout AU - Post “Edward’s Exploit”) 

“What do you mean Edward’s been hospitalized?!”

Thomas couldn’t believe the news that he just heard. Percy had to fill in the details that Duck told him just earlier. “Apparently, he had a heavy passenger train to pull last night. It was so bad that his engine broke and he ended up fracturing his knee just to get it to run.”

“That’s horrible…” Thomas looked upset while Toby just listened solemnly. Edward had been Thomas’s mentor when he first started working on Sodor, so it was no surprise that he was deeply concerned about him.

“But he still managed to get the passengers back to the station!” Percy added with good news. “Don’t worry!”

“Well yeah, but didn’t he pass out the moment he arrived back to the sheds?”

“Yeah, that’s what happened too...” Percy realized that this didn’t end with good news at all. He always knew how old and physically weak Edward was but he didn’t know that he would suffer that much. Whatever happened last night must have been exhausting for him.

“Poor Edward, he’s been doing a lot for everyone hasn’t he?” Thomas sighed. “I wish there was something we can do to make him feel better.”

“Well, we can always visit him,” Toby reassured him as he put a hand on his shoulder. “There’s no reason why we shouldn’t.”

Thomas smiled slightly as he said, “You’re right Toby. We definitely have to see him later.”

Percy smiled too. It would be wonderful for the three of them to visit the kindest, smartest, and diligent train driver on the Northern Western Railway. Then he thought about what Thomas said. Edward doing a lot for everyone…that was when a new idea suddenly struck into his mind.

“Oh! I have a better idea!” he exclaimed, “Why don’t we invite everyone that Edward helped? I bet they want to see him too cause he’s done so much for them! It’ll be the best surprise ever!”

Thomas looked at him as his eyes lit up and his smile grew even brighter. “That’s a great idea Percy! That’s gonna make Edward really happy!”

“I know! I gotta ask them right now!” Percy quickly got up from his seat, grabbed his bag, and headed straight towards the door. “Be right back!”

After he left the house, Toby chuckled with amusement. “That youngster’s always full of energy. For the past few weeks, he’s certainly been doing a lot too.”

“Well that’s Percy for you.” Thomas had to agree. “Always so cheery and outgoing. I’m so glad he’s my best friend.”

---

“What’s that? Edward’s in the hospital?” Trevor was shocked to hear the news. “Oh goodness, I hope he’s alright. But I’d be happy to visit him. After all, he was the one who found me a really good traction engine for my farm. I always find it quite admirable that he’s always looking out for others like this. It’s about time we do the same for him.”

 “Why, that’s a great idea!” Duck laughed as he ruffled Percy’s hair. “Edward’s such a wonderful fellow. He’s so thoughtful and hardworking and he really deserves a rest after what happened last night! I still remember when he let me work with him, even after I was chased out of the sheds. He sure did me a solid. Of course I’ll pay him a visit with you!”  

 “Aye, we’d love to see Edward,” Donald said enthusiastically. “We do owe him one. Not only did he defend Dougie but he also suggested to have a deputation so we could stay!”

“We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him!” Douglas chimed in. “We have to give him our thanks!”

 “Me, really?” Boco was surprised that Percy came to see him out of all people. “That’s very nice of you to invite me. Thank you very much. Edward’s a nice person to work with and it’s thanks to him that the twins won’t bother me so much. Do you mind if I can ask them if they want to see him too? I’m sure they’re worried about him as much as you are.”  

---

Percy felt quite satisfied with himself. Lots of people wanted to see Edward and he couldn’t wait to share his support with them. He just wished everything will go well. He asked everyone he knew but wondered if he had missed anyone. He figured that Harold didn’t know who Edward was and he was sure the other diesel drivers, besides Boco, wouldn’t be interested. Percy tried to think hard about it until he passed by three familiar faces deep in a conversation.

Oh, right.

“He’s not that frail, you know,” Henry was saying. Normally Percy wouldn’t care what those three said, but he decided to eavesdrop.

“Yes, I am already aware of that,” Gordon huffed while rolling his eyes. “I’m sure we’re all aware of that by now.”

“Yeah, why are you telling us something we already know?” James scowled. The two were facing Henry as if they were having a standoff against him.

“Well, you didn’t seem to think that way yesterday.”

“Oh please Henry, you’re not off the hook. You were like that as well! Besides, I don’t even understand why you volunteered to take those tourists home last night.”

“Well, why shouldn’t I? No one else was going to.”

“Yeah, no one in their right mind would want to carry over the work for that Old Iron!”

Percy didn’t want to hear any more. It was clear to him that they still didn’t care about Edward despite everything he had done. All they did was mock and demean anyone who got in their way and that included Percy. Why should he even bother with them? He walked away, hoping that the three didn’t notice him.

“And another thing,” Henry continued, “All I just said that he was struggling when he was pulling those coaches. That’s all.”

“Yes, but you have to admit. It was a pathetic sight.” Gordon huffed again. “Any of us could do it without a problem, but he was still desperate to do it anyways. Especially with such an old steam engine.”

“I DIDN’T SAY THAT!”

“YOU MUST HAVE AT LEAST THOUGHT IT!”

Henry stayed silent for a moment, knowing that was a fact he couldn’t deny. When he spoke up again, his voice was firm and blunt. “I have thought it. And it was a horrible thought. I never want to think about it ever again! Maybe you two should reconsider it too.”

Then he turned around and walked away. Gordon stared at him with annoyance while James had his hands on his hips and yelled out, “Hey, where are you going? We’re not done here, you know!”

But Gordon simply shook his head and muttered, “Leave him be James. I don’t think he wants to speak with us any further right now.”    

[joezworld]

So, a while back this got posted and I thought it would be cool to do a set of stories on the whole subject of 'family'.

Then work picked up and I only got through the first one and a half.

The half story got used in Day 27 of Traintober (it's the story Gordon retells to Richard Hatt), but this one never seemed like it could fit, so I decided to put it up after Traintober.

*checks watch*

It's certainly after Traintober now, isn't it?

Replacement

July, 1987

Once again, Tidmouth Sheds were in an uproar, but this time, it was a different sort of uproar.

"I'm telling you, he's a mongrel! A fraud! A waste of good metal!" Screeched a posh voice.

Vulgar statements followed this:

"How dare you, you cheese-shaped lump of-"

"-can you at least say this to my face?"

"-if ah were in steam ah would be turnin' ye into roast duck, you-"

"Forget yerself Douggie, can ye imagine what Bear wuld be sayin' if he wuz 'ere?"

"Quackers, I swear to all that is not holy, if you don't stop talking-"

"Is this what the pride of the LNER sounds like? An unmitigated -"

-

Perhaps an explanation is necessary.

The year prior, The National Railway Museum had restored Mallard - the fastest steam locomotive in the world - to operating condition. Gordon was very pleased by this, as it meant another member of his extended family was in steam.

Furthermore, Mallard's speed records were a source of personal pride for Gordon, as his design was the prototype for all the Gresley Pacifics, including Mallard. This meant that Gordon would happily spend hours telling anyone and everyone who would listen (or couldn't get away quickly enough!) about his family's various exploits, much to the annoyance of the other engines, who wished he'd give it a rest!

But Gordon would not give it a rest, and spent most of the next year going on and on about Mallard and Flying Scotsman. Things eventually grew so dire that the Fat Controller reached out to Mallard and Flying Scotsman's owners to see if the engines would like to come out to Sodor just so Gordon would stop.

Unfortunately, things had not gone as planned. While Flying Scotsman was just as charming and gregarious as he always was, Mallard... was not.

Within a few days of his arrival, engines up and down the Island had begun complaining of the A4's attitude, which ranged from snooty and aloof to cold and even downright hostile depending on whom he spoke to:

"You should have heard the things he said when he thought BoCo was gone!" Edward said crossly one morning at the junction. "I've never heard such remarks about diesels!"

"Did he say anything about you?" James growled. "He told me - to my face - that my class was a "insignificant footnote in history".

Percy looked over, expression dark, at where the express engine was sitting at the coaling tower next to Gordon and Scotsman. "He hasn't said anything to me yet, but I think he knows where his bearings are greased."

"What?" Edward was confused.

"Keep it to yourselves," Percy explained. "But I think those books about us are a bit more popular on the mainland than we think. He thinks he can get away with being a sore axle to you because you aren't famous."

"And you are?" James snapped back.

"No," Percy admitted. "But Thomas is, and every time I've seen that great Wedge is when Thomas, Gordon, or Flying Scotsman is nearby."

The three engines looked at each other.

"So not only is he a rude heap of scrap iron," James began. "But he's also a glory hound?"

"Seems so."

"What a berk."

-

This brings us back to Tidmouth Sheds. Henry had been away at the works for several days, and returned to the big station on an evening goods train from Crovan's Gate. Mallard, Gordon, Scotsman, and several other engines were already in the shed when Henry backed in.

Pleasantries were exchanged with the other engines, but when Henry tried to say hello to Mallard, trouble started.

"You aren't a Black Five, are you?" Mallard asked, suspicion colouring his voice.

"You have a very good eye!" Henry chortled, unaware of Mallard's personality. "I've been rebuilt quite thoroughly - Stanier was the most recent one, about 50 years ago now."

"Really? And what were you rebuilt from?" Mallard asked, even more suspicious than before.

Across the shed, Donald, Douglas, and Duck looked at each other with growing concern. Henry's origins were well known to the Island, as was Mallard's superiority complex - this conversation would not end well.

"-and well, at the end of the day, I think I was originally built out of a rejected first draft for Gordon!" Henry laughed a little. "Of course, that was a long time ago."

A lengthy silence followed that.

Gordon and Scotsman looked at each other. They'd never considered that Henry might share a common origin with them.

Douglas, Donald, and Duck looked concerned. They could see Mallard's expression turn increasingly thunderous.

"Gordon, my dear cousin." Mallard eventually said, his tone practically poisonous. "Did you know that we're in the company of a fraud?"

-

The noise did not stop. No matter what anyone did to quell the argument, it would quickly start up again as Gordon or Scotsman tried to make their increasingly-recalcitrant cousin apologize to Henry. Mallard's responses were so rude that they don't bear repeating here, and each time sparked off a new round of shouting.

They would likely have gone on until dawn broke over the horizon, and only did stop when Henry's crew arrived to light his fire for the Flying Kipper. They had heard the argument all the way from the station carpark, and decided that the only way to end this was by separating Mallard from everyone else.

-

"- you expect me to pull what?!" As an uncooperative Mallard was driven towards the docks, the rest of the engines looked at each other, wide-eyed and emotionally exhausted.

"I never want to speak to him again." Gordon said, his voice scratchy and raw from a night of shouting.

"Gordon," Henry began.

"I'm serious." Gordon rasped. "He has no right to speak to you that way. As far as I'm concerned, he is the fraud, not you."

This drew raised eyebrows across the shed. "How is he the fraud, Gordon?" Duck asked. "It's not like he isn't a Gresley."

"He might look like one," Gordon growled. "But he isn't. No true Gresley would ever speak to another engine like that. There is a code. Honor. Dignity. Respect. It's the Gresley - nay - the North Eastern way."

The other engines stared at him. They were all well aware of how Gordon had treated Henry during his first few years on the Island.

"Don't look at me like that!" He snapped. "I was young and I was stupid then. And I have apologized." He looked in the direction Mallard had gone. "He has no such excuse."

The other engines looked at each other. They were all very upset at Mallard's rudeness, but clearly he'd struck a nerve in Gordon.

They wanted to say something, but by that point, the firelighters had arrived to prepare everyone for their morning trains, and the clatter and noise made conversation impossible. When the sheds had finally quieted down, Donald and Scotsman - who did not have morning trains - had fallen so deeply asleep that they slept until noon.

-

Everyone else spent the rest of the day in an exhausted haze. Henry was falling asleep any time his wheels stopped turning, and Gordon's temper had become shorter and shorter as the day had gone on. Even Scotsman, who had managed some sleep, was still groggy to the point of slurring his words.

Mallard, who had also been up all night, was equally snappish, especially after his run with the Flying Kipper. His owners had agreed to let the Fat Controller run him in normal services as well as rail tours, thinking that it would be a nice change from being kept inside the National Railway Museum all the time. However, Mallard actually enjoyed the light duties of being a museum engine, and found real work to be unpleasant and tiring.

He had not been quiet about this either, and this meant that when Mallard arrived in Barrow with the Flying Kipper, Henry's crew was already fed up with him. They left him in Barrow yard and stalked into the yard master's office, and immediately asked for their engine to be assigned the heaviest, most difficult train available.

That train turned out to be a special load of unfitted stone wagons bound for the harbour at Arlesburgh. Mallard made heavy weather of the trip, and it took him almost five hours of slow and dusty running to reach Duck's branch line. His train was of particularly low priority, and he had been shunted into almost every siding on the line, something which rankled his express engine sensibilities enormously. His axles ached and he was so tired that he was almost seeing double.

Mallard tried to rest once he'd delivered the train to Arlesburgh, but Duck hadn't forgotten the things that had been said about Henry, and blew his whistle, wheeshed steam, and generally made a nuisance of himself to keep Mallard awake. When Duck left, Donald and Douglas arrived and picked up where he left off.

When the time finally came to return to Tidmouth, Mallard was in a state of outraged and overtired hysteria. He'd been awake for more than thirty hours at this point, had been yelled at by engines who were defending a fraud, and had been made to do real work! It was disgraceful! Despicable! Absolutely disgusting!

He continued fuming all the way to Tidmouth station, and was subjected to further indignities when he was left alone on the far goods platform.

At first, he thought that it would be possible to get some rest at long last, but that hope was dashed when a pair of green tenders backed down next to him.

“What on earth do you want, Cousin?”

“What is wrong with you.” Scotsman didn’t phrase it as a question. He glared at the A4 through exhausted eyes.

“You’ll have to be more specific.” Mallard said graciously. “My paintwork is a touch shabby, my valves are worn, and I feel as though I could do with some more grease and lubri-”

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh that?”

“Yes. That.”

“Well I’m not sure that there’s anything left to talk about my dear Scotsman - you certainly seemed content to say your piece all through the night, and into the morning as well!”

“They- I- You- You have been preened and fettled just a bit too much, alright? It’s gone to your smokebox, and not in a good way.”

“Oh please. You and I both know I’m correct. That abomination is nothing more than a waste of good metal. He should have been confined to the cutting room floor just like his drawings.”

I can’t believe I’m listening to this. You sound like Deltic - you know, the original Deltic? The prototype who had BR’s men so far down his intakes that they were able to turn him evil?”

“I can’t say I’m familiar.”

“He said that he was inevitable, and that he would surpass us in every way, and that we would all fall to his greatness. He was a supremacist git, Duckie, just like you are right now.”

“I’d kindly ask you not to lump me in with monsters such as that.”

“Then stop acting like him. Actually, I take that back - do start acting like him; I had the chance to meet him a few years ago at the Science Museum - he’s had a complete turnaround, spent an entire hour telling me how sorry he was for everything. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize for something in my entire life.”

“Well I’ve never had to, and I doubt that I ever will have to.”

“Why don’t you start. Today.”

“Oh, be sensible! Why are you supporting the Mongrel anyways?”

“He’s -” Scotsman cut himself off. “All right, even if we ignored what you said about Henry - which we will not, by the way - Gordon is furious about this. I’ve never seen him so mad and neither have the other engines who live with him! You owe him an apology on top of everything else!”

“Feh! I don’t owe him anything! He’s scarcely better than the fraud!”

“I beg your pardon.”

“Oh don’t look at me like that! He’s a prototype! A first draft! A rough approximation of what was to come! Don’t tell me you haven’t looked at him! His running board has more in common with the Forgery than you or I, and they’ve even removed his center cylinder! His center cylinder! And his Gresley motion! The two things that make our line stand out above all the rest! He’s as much of a Gresley as that box on wheels they put on the Woodhead line! The only reason I afford him any respect at all is because he’s managed to ingratiate himself to that clergyman with a predilection for children’s books!”

“First of all, Tommy is just a much of a Gresley as we are-”

“Bah!”

“And second, where do you draw the line? Are there no true Gresleys other than you? Is it limited to just your class? Or does one have to be famous? Is Green Arrow a true Gresley according to you? Are Dwight or Dominion true Gresleys? Are the J50s? Am I?”

“Stop being melodramatic. Your undesirable shape aside, you are of course a Gresley, and so are -”

“Undesirable shape.”

“What? Oh yes, it’s very unfortunate, but true.”

“How so?”

“Well, it’s rather obvious if you think about it.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Just look at those of us who survived - they only preserved one or two of the rest of our family classes - just look at yourself, they only saved you because of your record - but they’ve preserved myself and five others! Clearly we are more desirable than the rest of you, and I have seen for myself how popular a streamlined body is.”

“You vainglorious little bas-”

“In fact, and I mean no offense, but if it had been Silver Link, Sir Ralph, or even a Thompson or a Peppercorn who hit the ton instead of you, they would be here and you wouldn’t. It’s that simple.”

Even through his exhaustion, everything Scotsman saw was beginning to get this strange red colouring. “You’ve crossed a line now, and you are going-”

“I’ve crossed a line?!” Mallard scoffed. “Scotsman, cousin, I am the line. The Line, against which Gresleys - no, all steam locomotives are measured against. I achieved something that no locomotive has done before or since, and I did so with loose valves, a failing cylinder, and a heavy-handed driver. You did something that Truro probably did before you were even drawn, except that you had the good sense to bring a dynamometer!”

Mallard paused. His smokebox was ringing like a damned bell, he was so tired, and he didn’t have any desire to be kind today. “And in case you start getting any ideas above your station about your fame or your glory and if that affords you some unearned amount of additional respect, old iron, let us remember that when BR decided to form the National Collection, They. Didn’t. Want. You.”

Scotsman was about to burst a boiler tube. He opened his mouth to say something equally hurtful when an aggrieved sounding “AHEM” could be heard from beside him.

There on the platform was the Fat Controller, who had heard everything, and was as angry as Scotman had ever seen a human being get.

“Oh, what is it now?” Mallard griped, showing that he had no sense in his smokebox at all.

-

Later

The Fat Controller spoke to the big engines that night. “Due to, err, extenuating circumstances, Mallard had to return to the mainland early.”

Exhausted cheers met this.

“Now, I understand that some of you might be disappointed by this,” The Fat Controller ignored them. “but not to worry. I have spoken to a gentleman whom I know very well, and I have arranged for another locomotive of Mallard’s type to arrive shortly. That way we will be able to accommodate all the people who have come out to see Gordon, Flying Scotsman, and Mallard all together.”

That engine turned out to be Union of South Africa - or Osprey, as she preferred to be called nowadays. She was Mallard’s polar opposite - bouncy and excitable, she relished the chance to have some “real work”, and made fast friends with the engines of Sodor before nightfall of her first day on the Island.

“Why couldn’t we have had her before?” BoCo asked the shed at large. “And do we have to give her back?”

Everyone laughed at this, and when Osprey herself backed into the shed a while later, she was met with genuine smiles.

“You all seem happy about something!” She chirped.

“We’re just glad that you aren’t rude like the last one was.” James said with surprisingly upbeat bluntness.

“Duckie...” She sighed. “What did he do now?”

Everyone told her, and when they finished, the happy mood in the shed had darkened significantly.

“So he thinks he’s in a class of his own, does he?” She said quietly. “He should know better than to say things like that.”

Even Scotsman looked at her quizzically at that.

“He’s… been doing this for some time.” She explained. “Being earmarked for preservation, not having to worry while we all did… it did things to him. We’ve all tried to make him stop - it gives the rest of us a bad name! - but with myself, Bittern, and Nigel on other sides of the country, there isn’t a lot we can do. And he clearly doesn’t respect anyone else’s opinions on the matter.” She looked at Scotsman significantly when she said this - Mallard hadn’t so much crossed the line as he’d driven over it at 127 miles per hour.

“Well we must do something.” BoCo, of all engines, spoke up from the other side of the shed. “Forgive me if I’m treading on any Gresley family ground here, but if one of my brothers had spoken like that, the rest of us would have paid him out from now ‘til the new millennium.”

Gordon, Osprey, and Scotsman looked at each other for a moment.

“I suppose we should…” Gordon began.

“He certainly deserves it.” Osprey said.

“But what could we do to him that isn’t wanton cruelty?” Scotsman pondered. “We are trying to be the bigger engines here, let’s remember.”

The engines paused for a moment to come up with ideas, but the quiet was soon broken as Henry was driven into the shed.

“You all look contemplative.” He said as he was spun around on the turntable.

“We’re just trying to - my word,” Osprey said as she took in Henry’s form. “You do look like one of us - no amount of Stanier meddling can change that.”

A pair of gasps rang out as Gordon and Scotsman had the same thought at the same time.

As everyone else looked at them, they both turned their attention to Henry.

“Henry…” Gordon said slowly. “Have I ever mentioned how-”

“I know what you’re thinking.” Henry said quickly, cutting him off. “And I will not be a party to it.”

“Oh come now, cousin.” Scotsman said slyly. “Tell me that you can’t see the appeal of this?”

“I’ve been in the same shed as your lineage for sixty years,” Henry said. “I will not be involv-”

“I see you haven’t given up on insulting children, have you?” Sir Nigel said as he was backed into the next road. Mallard was in the back of the shed, sulking; he’d been put back there several hours early after the parents at the heritage railroad’s open day had started complaining.

“They are sticky, and stupid, and young.” Mallard grimaced. “I don’t know how you put up with them.”

“I put up with them because I like them, and more importantly, they like me.” Sir Nigel said. “If they grow up not liking steam engines, then how will we survive when they’re adults? Boilers don’t grow on trees, you know - their ticket revenues will someday pay for them!”

A vulgar noise followed this, and the other A4 rolled his eyes. “Ah yes, Super-Engine is a piece of history; they’ll never rid themselves of you.”

“Did you come in here for a purpose, or am I to be stuck with you until the morning?”

“Yes to both, unfortunately enough.”

“Well, out with it - I want my beauty sleep.”

“I think you’d have to sleep for a month to manage any of that-”

“Why you-!”

“-but I do have some family news.”

“What is it? Be quick.”

“Did you know that they found another A1 prototype? I don’t know how this has only now come to light, but-”

“I said be quick.”

“ - but, new documents have come to light in Sodor. Apparently their 4-6-0 - I cannot for the life of me remember his name, but he’s the green one in the books - he’s one of us! Scotsman, Gordon, and Osprey all vouch for his pedigree, and when I saw Arrow, he was ecstatic at the prospect of expanding the family a little. Oh, and Morayshire is already champing at the bit to go out there and welcome him in person…”

Sir Nigel kept talking for some time, but Mallard didn’t hear him.

They adopted the fraud. Those savages.

[inky-duchess]

History Bites Special: The Six Queens

This is the first in a long line of posts where I pick the best moments of history and the antics historical figures in order to give you inspiration for your WIP. Think of History Bites like prompts, only juicer and 90% accurate (results may vary) as I regale you with interesting tidbits about

On this day, Henry VIII died. Unlike last year, I won't be remembering Henry. We will be remembering the Queens and their achievements.

Katherine of Aragon was the daughter of Isabella of Castile, a power Queen Regnant. She lived to see the fall of the Moorish Empire in Spain and the treasures of the East Indies brought back by Christopher Columbus.

Katherine was almost wrecked at sea in her first journey to England. They fleet turned back and the second journey got her safely to England. The first thing she did was attend mass. During her journey, the King, Henry VII decided to go visit her early actually bursting into her chambers to see her.

After her first husband died, Katherine was proposed as a wife to his brother Henry. Her father refused to pay out her dowry, so the wedding was put off for years and years leaving Katherine in poverty as the King of Aragon and King of England basically had a pissing contest. Katherine sold off jewels in order to eat.

When Henry VIII went off to fight in France (another male ego pissing contest that achieved nothing), Katherine handed Scotland its biggest defeat in history. She led troops at Flodden, winning a battle where the Scottish King died. When she wrote to Henry as well as sending him the Scottish king's coat and banners, she mentioned that she had wanted to send the body of the king but the nobles were being pussies and said no. It may have been the shadiest letter of all the Tudor period.

Henry was actually terrified of what Katherine could do. When yelling at one of his advisers, he admitted that Katherine had a chance of beating him in battle. Katherine never did don armour and trample Henry in battle. A shame.

Anne Boleyn was two. Anne was raised abroad in the courts of France and the Netherlands. In the Netherlands, she served the shrewd Margaret of Austria who was fond of her. When Anne returned to English court, she was considered a catch because she was so clever and worldly.

Anne did catch the eye of another man, Henry Percy the son of the Duke of Northumberland. The two were deeply in love and it was rumoured that Percy was going to put aside his father's choice and marry Anne. Cardinal Wolsey broke it up and Anne was banished.

Anne was rather a deft hand at creating catchy and shady mottos. Her first was "Ainsi sera, groigne qui groigne,” which means “Grumble all you like, this is how it’s going to be".

Anne was quite sharp at times. She had her aunt, sister and the King's best friend banished from court. She wore yellow after hearing that Katherine of Aragon was dead, in a mockery of the Spanish mourning tradition. She ordered that the Princess Mary be stripped of her title and serve her own daughter as a maid.

Anne as quite determined. She held Henry off for seven years before agreeing to sleep with him, she stood up to him and the powerful men of the kingdom whenever they went against her and she saw the foundations of the Church of England being laid down due to her influence.

Anne also had a dog named Purkoy, who she adored. When the dog died, Henry had to tell her himself and she was distraught.

Jane Seymour was next. Jane is really debased as being pliant and rather dull when compared to Anne but Jane could be just just as bitchy. On the day Anne walked the scaffold to her death, Jane picked out her wedding clothes.

Jane reconciled Princess Mary and Henry. She acted as a catalyst in bringing them together. Henry yelled at her but in the end she had her way.

Jane begged for mercy for the rebels in the Pilgrimage of Grace. It was rather a ballsy move but she stuck to her guns until Henry reminded her of Anne's execution.

Anne of Cleves was four. Anne grew up in the Duchy of Cleves, her brother being the Duke and a member of the Protestant League. Anne was Henry's last choice of bride as he wanted a French Princess but they told him fuck off so his advisor Cromwell sent Hans Holbein, the court painter to paint the infamous portrait. Henry saw the picture and decided to marry her.

Like his father, Henry couldn't wait to see the bride. Dressing in disguise, Henry went to see Anne. He pressed a kiss on her and she recoiled. She hadn't a clue who he was. Henry left rather wounded, yelling that she looked like a horse and smelled bad.

Anne was oblivious that Henry was working against their marriage from day one. When speaking to her ladies, it became clear that nothing went down in the bedchamber. When she was sent away for her health, she was utterly flummoxed by a letter stating that their marriage was at an end. Anne wept but then picked herself up and took Henry to the cleaners. She got estate after estate from him and became the richest woman in England.

She survived all the Queens and Henry, living to see Mary I's ascension even riding in the coronation procession. She was particularly fond of Princess Elizabeth, even teaching her how to make pancakes so Elizabeth could care for herself.

Catherine Howard was five. She was just a child when Henry decided to chase her. He was not the first old sack of shit to molest (yes, it was. He and M*nnox were fucking wrong. Don't gimme that shit about the times.) Catherine was maid in waiting to Anne of Cleves when she was noticed by Henry. See a pattern here? And Catherine was Anne Boleyn's cousin to boot.

Catherine is usually portrayed as a flighty woman but in reality, Catherine could be quite kind. When hearing that old Countess Pole was in a draughty cell in the Tower, Catherine paid for clothes to be made for her to keep her warm.

When Catherine was in the Tower, she asked for the block to be brought to her so she could practice her execution. Before the axe fell, Catherine was rumoured to cry out, "I die a queen but I would rather die the wife if Culpepper," who was her alleged lover. It is probably myth but one can't help but wish she said it as a last fuck you to Henry.

Kathryn Parr was the last and certainly not least. She had been wed twice before Henry, her last husband dying only a few months before Henry began making eyes at her. Kathryn wanted to marry Thomas Seymour but out of duty married the King.

Kathryn ruled as Regent when Henry went off to France for ego reasons. She brought all the royal children together, mothering Elizabeth and Edward and acting as ally to Mary. She managed to convince Henry to reinstate the Princesses to the succession making them princesses again.

Kathryn was a reformer and scholar. She penned the first novel published by a woman in England. She studied theology, listening to sermons by the controversial preacher Anne Askew. Henry didn't like Kathryn questioning his opinions and drew up a warrant for her arrest. The warrant somehow found its way to Kathryn and she immediately went to Henry and began to repent all her "offenses" (her having an opinion). Henry forgave her. Kathryn was the only queen to survive Henry's displeasure and cling on to her position.

[exciting]

As requested, books / series I read in 2020 in the order I read them, with a few brief thoughts. (This took me a hot second because there are a few and also I moved cities) Should I keep a consistent goodreads? Yes I should but I didn’t think of that at the time, so bone apple teeth & sorry if I offend you abt your faves x

P.S. I can’t figure out how to do a read more on mobile so long post ahead!

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J Maas - This is one of the most vivid published fantasy books I have ever read... I read it twice in rapid succession. The fandom POPS off. I must say I have issues with certain aspects e.g. fae lore completely ignored à la Twilight, all love interests 500+ years old and technically a different species, etc (I’m not going to deconstruct the entire series here but just know that I could... Nesta deserves better)

Cruel Prince by Holly Black - This fucking slaps, HB clearly has done her research, the lore is near immaculate, and it explores the Fae in such a unique way, tying it to the modern world subtly and seamlessly. My only qualm was that the books felt quite short; truly wish there had been more content.

Throne of Glass by Sarah J Maas (6/7) - So basically I read this in one single, hyperfixated fit which meant I literally locked myself in my room for three days straight and read all six books back to back in a row from morning to the wee hours. Which is not to say it was spectacular; although it was a VERY rich world, sometimes it was too much... this felt like 6 stories in one. Ik she was young when she wrote this but it is my humble opinion that SJM needs a better editor & I personally think Rowan is a grade A asshole / straight up abusive (& personally think the ACOTAR Tamlin plot was born from that?). It’s good but not as good as ACOTAR. Skip-read the last book. 

Grishaverse (Shadow and Bone) by Leigh Bardugo (3) - This is essential to read before SOC but was very much simply a YA fantasy book, although the world was cool and the way the love plot played out was, imo, a subtle middle finger to the fantasy trope. Felt very much aimed at younger readers though? Really liked the sandwhich structure of the Proluge and Epilogue, especially in #2

Six of Crows series by Leigh Bardugo (2) - INCREDIBLE continuation of Grishaverse, better than the original series by a mile. It has the range, the diversity, the representation (the male lead is a disabled asexual and still the most cunning of the entire cast of characters), the plot is phenomenal, and it manages such a well rounded plot in only two books which means nothing is stretched out or squeezed in more than need be. Deserves all the praise it gets.

King of Scars series by Leigh Bardugo (0.5/1) - Personally I don’t consider this book canon, and while it’s nice to see the rest of Nina’s journey & the world again & everyone else, I don't like it. I will, however, be reading book 2 when it comes out, so shame on me, I suppose.

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (1/1) - this was incredibly cool although it went off in a completely different direction than I thought it would based off the first few chapters? One of my favourite YA-author-debuts-New-Adult novels in 2020 though!

Crescent City by Sarah J Maas (1/1) - This was supposed to be SJM/s New Adult debut, although personally I would put her other series in New Adult, and I can’t say a remarkable amount was different with this except they said “fuck” and “ass” a lot. WHY is the romantic interest 500 years old AGAIN. I just... don’t... I just don’t think it was necessary... the world was cool though, and the last half of the book was riveting, but the beginning was quite slow and I thought the sword thing was predictable. I am interested to see where this goes though.

A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E. Schwab (3) - This world is so fucking cool... four Londons aka parallel universes & the one in ‘our’ world is set in industrial era London. Magic, girls dressing up as boys, thieves, pirates, royalty... it all just slaps. Schwab is an incredible writer & I was completely immersed.

Midnight Sun by SMeyer - I didn’t think anything could possibly detract even further from the Twilight story but I was sorely mistaken... seeing the stalking from Edward’s POV - and it was worse than depicted in Twilight, for the record - completely obliterated any sort of romance the first half of the original book may have portrayed. I still hold the opinion that the entire series would have been better if some kind of vampire lore had been abided by, if only to see all of the villains thwarted by someone dropping a bag of rice on the ground, forcing them to have to count them all.

An ember in the Ash by Sabaa Tahir  (3/4) - This was just a very stereotypical ya fantasy series, emphasis on the YOUNG... it wasn’t anything to write home about but I remember quite enjoying it at the time. 

The Power by Naomi Alderman - This book is FUCKING incredible and EXCEPTIONALLY thought provoking... essentially women alone develop a power of electric shock etc. and then take over the world from men, and it explores feminism and the balance between equality & tipping the scales in the other direction. Written by a friend of M.Atwood in a similar tone to handmaids tale, I would say? Content warning; there are some exceptionally graphic scenes in the latter half of the novel. 

Hamlet by Wllm Shksp - I can’t believe it took me this long to finally read it but Ophelia is my favourite name in the entire world & we love to see a woman go batshit (although she didn’t deserve that). 

Catherine House by Elisabeth Thomas - this was unsettling in the best sense of the word... it was a little slow & honestly more of a concept than a big reveal, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it after I finished it? A Secret History vibes but make it blurry like the memory of all those dystopian novels you read when you were young?

The Invisible Life of Addie La Rue by V.E. Schwab - This is without a doubt my book of the year, and probably the best book I read in 2020? I stayed up all night on a friend’s couch reading it, got a book hangover and reread the ending, and then thrust it upon my mother who doesn’t usually read but read this, and loved it just as much. HIGHLY recommend and you HAVE to read it, it’s beautiful and endearing and just plain wonderful.

Captive Prince by C.S. Pacat (3/3) - I went into this knowing it was going to be terrible, because I had received a blow by blow telling me as much; although I must say that it did learn a remarkable amount of new words, the books did get better as the series went on, and it did have a rather charming ending? BIG content warning for almost everything.

Sapiens by Yuval Harari - mind-expanding & must recommend for everyone, there is everything in this and I daresay everyone should posses this kind of knowledge? I listened to it as an audiobook (which I recommend because it’s rather hearty) but will be buying this in hardcopy & rereading it with annotations. 

Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller - Without a doubt, one of the most beautiful novels I have ever read, and certainly the most beautiful portrayal of the story of Achilles and the battle of Troy I have ever seen. Patroclus deserved the justice that was given to him in this book; indeed, all of the characters were written with justice and grace. Highly recommend.

Trials of Apollo by Rick Riordan (3/5) - Apollo is my favourite Greek God, and the sexiest greek god, and Rick Riordan’s writing slaps, as always. It did pain me to see Apollo, the sexy immortal, have to be forced back into a 16 year old’s body but everything else? Whimsical & wonderful, as expected. 

These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong - a retelling of Romeo and Juliette, except it’s set in Shanghai in the 1920′s, and the protagonists already have a history. Very well done, characters are incredibly diverse in race, sexual orientation, gender, and ability / disability (and honestly, representation has never appeared so effortless and elegant). Also it includes a monster and possible magic. Incredibly underrated and highly recommend.

The Once and Future Witches by Alix. E Harrow - this was such a unique concept, and truly captivating, the story was charming, and felt like the kind of beautiful fairytale you would read as children but with more grit? ABSOLUTELY recommend this one

The Pisces by Melissa Broder - I hated this so much, not my vibe at all. Mermaid smut x therapy but make it cynical and judgemental (I know there was a moral in there but that’s not my point) also the dog dies.

Library of the Unwritten by A.J. Hackwith (1/2) - really interesting & unique concept (all unwritten novels / ideas reside in a special library that is part of Hell and then sometimes the books can come to life) however, my first thought upon reading this was “this reads as if it’s stemmed from one of those writing prompt tumblr posts” bc of the tone and whatever and as it turns out I was somewhat correct, it did stem from a short story (not bad just obvious). It did kind of settle down as it went on but I found reading it kind of a drag, and I don’t think I will read the second one.

Abandon by Meg Cabot - 1. Meg Cabot’s writing always fucking slaps 2. Hades and Persephone but make it modern & very 2000′s & somehow kind of unique 3. I literally loved this, sue me

Medusa Girls (Sweet Venom) by Tera Childs - Like Percy Jackson except they are descendants of Medusa so they are Gorgons and have fangs & venom (hence the title). Gave me very 2000′s vibes? Quite cool but tbh I found the books quite short (like two hours each, if that)? Do NOT read the GoodReads description of the book before you read it, you will spoil it for yourself.

Bring me their Hearts by Sara Wolf - In my opinion, this is one of the most underrated YA series I read in 2020. The heroine is endearing, self aware, witty, and loves to look pretty even while kicking ass which in my opinion is an incredibly underrated trait. Also, immortality without being hundreds of years old? VERY sexy. HIGHLY recommend. 

A Deal with the Elf King by Elise Kova - High commendation to be given for the fact that it is a standalone and yet manages to fit in the plot of what would usually be a full fantasy trilogy without cutting corners or being a million miles long? Also sweet storyline & beautiful ending? If you liked ACOTAR you should read this as a “what would have / could have been had SJM had a different editor” (No shade I promise).

The Iron Fae by Julie Kagawa (4/4 + novellas) - Incredibly detailed faerie set around the modern world & our current use of technology & iron in it. Very neat adventure-style series, by the time I read the last novella I was well and truly done with the world (aka provided enough content to be fulfilling). Was definitely aimed at a younger audience though, NO smut / smut was brushed over.

The Modern Faerie Tales by Holly Black (3/3 SS) - This is technically the prequel to Cruel prince, set in the modern world, but with the fae world inside it as it traditional? All I have to say is that it is excellent & I highly recommend it.

Bridgerton series (The Duke and I) by Julia Quinn (9/9) - I read this after watching the Netflix show twice through and I am obsessed, although the books were not quite as elegant as the show, and some parts that made me cringe either by their portrayal (it is very firmly set in the 19th century and thus some things are not handled with tact or grace), the characters were exceptionally loveable and I am so excited to see where the show takes them! Lovely language & an abundance of words I had never seen before (always a plus). 

[edie-k]

Cost Nothing (R/Hr, PG-13)

Title: Cost Nothing

Rating: PG-13 (mild sexual humor)

Pairing: Romione

Summary: "Compliments cost nothing, yet many pay dear for them." Thomas Fuller

When Harry and Ginny point out a shortcoming of Hermione's, she turns to Ron to set the record straight.

Notes: Thanks to accio-broom for the beta work and lovely feedback.

Happy birthday to Ron! To celebrate properly, I called upon the OG of the Ron Weasley Defense Squad, one Harry James Potter.

Link to AO3 or click below

“Hey,” said Ginny, flopping down on the blanket next to Hermione. 

“Oh, are you finished playing?” 

“Just a break. Get this - Percy sent an owl and said he, Charlie and George are coming back at 4 to play.”

“Wow, he’s really trying to make this up to you all,” said Hermione, impressed. She glanced up to see Ron and Harry walk towards her, brooms in hand. She used her bookmark to hold her place.  

Harry dropped his broom to the ground and laid down between the two of them. “Hermione, your cooling charms are just as great as your warming ones.” 

Ron stood in front of them. Hermione shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked up at him warmly. He smiled back and stuck his arm into the air above her blanket. “Bloody hell, that feels good.” 

“Come lay down,” said Hermione, patting the blanket next to her. 

“I won’t get up if I do. And I was thinking I should run up to the house and grab some drinks and snacks to bring back here?” 

“Ah, great idea, mate,” said Harry. 

“Cute and brilliant, what more could I ask for?” said Hermione with a smile

Ron flushed and gave her a grin. “I’ll be right back.” He walked up to the house. 

Hermione pulled out her wand to expand the blanket and cooling charm to give them a bit more space. As she was putting her wand to the side, she caught Harry looking at her with a bemused expression. “What?” 

“I am just not used to that yet,” said Harry. “Especially from you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  

“I’ve never heard you compliment him before. Certainly not on his looks,” said Harry. 

“Harry Potter! You know that I think Ron’s wonderful and always have.”

 “I’ve thought Ron was great for almost a decade now. I assumed that you did too. I’ve just never heard you say it.” 

“You’re joking!”

“To be fair to you, you were quite complimentary of his basilisk fangs idea during the battle, but I otherwise stand by my statement.” 

 “Ginny!” Hermione appealed to her friend that had been observing silently. “You’ve heard me compliment Ron before, right?” 

“To his face? Never. To others? Also never.” 

“Well, the two of you aren’t around us all the time,” said Hermione. 

“It’s true. There were dozens of minutes over the last year that I was away from you two,” said Harry.

Ginny laughed. “It’s fine, Hermione. You just don’t hand out compliments easily.”

“That’s not true,” said Harry, shaking his head. “You’ve said loads of nice things about me.”

“Did she?” asked Ginny, quirking an eyebrow. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry, I’d recommend not triggering that Weasley jealousy. You’re my best friend, and who else was going to bolster and build you up? It certainly wasn’t based on any personal interest I had. I was just passing along the gossip and giggling I’d hear in the loo.”

“And Ron Weasley, bastion of self-assuredness, was in no need of compliments,” said Ginny drily. “Especially when you’re showering Harry in them.”  

Hermione’s face darkened. “That’s quite rich coming from someone who compared Ron to his best friends just to embarrass him. I fancied him, and you expected me to tell him that Bridget Nichols wanted to quote, ‘climb him like a tree’? Besides, I seem to recall that he wasn’t lacking female attention at the time,” she sniffed. 

Harry sat up, looking nervous. “Uh, look, there’s no need for you and Ron to rehash sixth year.”

“Ron and I have already come to an appropriate understanding on that. What there’s really no need for is the two of you butting into our relationship.”

“You’re right,” said Harry. “We should-”

“It all checks out,” said Ginny, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You complimented Ron constantly, which gave him the confidence to never make a move.” 

“Oh, and what about him? It’s not like he was showering me in praise!”

“Well, he did -” Harry stopped his sentence short. “No. I’m sorry I brought any of this up; it was a careless joke.”

“Finish what you were going to say,” Ginny and Hermione demanded in unison. Hermione looked at Ginny, surprised by the synchronicity before glaring and looking back at Harry, who she could tell desperately regretted the whole conversation. 

Harry looked between the two and sighed. “All I was going to say was that Ron has told you how brilliant you are loads of times over the years.”

“Well, so has Professor Flitwick, but I didn’t think that meant he was trying to get in my knickers.”

“It’s Ron, though. He hardly ever misses an opportunity to put his foot in his mouth, yet I can still think of dozens of times he fawned all over you.” 

“Those aren’t exactly signals a boy gives you to say he’s attracted to you,” said Hermione. 

“No, I suppose not,” said Harry, laying back down. He looked as if he wanted to say more but was holding his tongue. 

“I think that what Harry said originally is true. Neither of you ever explicitly told us you liked the other, but we always knew Ron thought you were amazing. We had to assume that you thought Ron was too,” said Ginny, the edge now gone from her tone.

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it. She knew they were wrong, but she just didn’t have the proof yet. 

They lay contemplating for a few minutes before Harry broke the tense silence. “Ugh, I’m still trying to decide what’s more disturbing - Flitwick trying to get in your knickers or Ron.”

“Ron doesn’t have to try,” Hermione cheeked. Ginny laughed, and Harry’s face contorted. 

“What don’t I have to try?” asked Ron. He had returned with a basket filled with cold butterbeers, crisps, biscuits, and a couple of apples, which he set next to Hermione as he eased himself down.  While the others stretched around to grab snacks, Hermione cringed as she noticed he looked uncomfortable to have discovered them discussing him. She decided to be straightforward. 

“To get into my knickers,” Hermione responded with a grin. His ears burned, but she saw a light in his eyes when he noticed Harry’s continued cringe. 

“Oh,” he said as he sat down next to her. “Are you actually wearing knickers today? That’s disappointing.”

Harry broke a biscuit and threw half at each of them. 

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

“Hey Hermione?”

“Yes?” It was well after dinner now, and the two of them were taking a walk as dusk began to settle in. The decision to take a walk was met with teasing from all of his brothers that left Hermione rolling her eyes. It was truly only a walk. After years of seeing only the downsides to his status as the youngest brother, he was finally reaping a benefit - his parents were turning a blind eye to the fact they were sharing a bed in a silenced and locked room so an uncomfortable roll in the orchard was unnecessary. 

“Yes?”

“Why were you talking about me getting in your knickers with Harry and Ginny?”

Hermione bit her lip while Ron continued on. 

“Don’t get me wrong. I would be comfortable taking out an ad in The Daily Prophet bragging about shagging you, and I’m sure they knew well before today. But as fun as it was to make him squirm, I thought we’d been trying to not make Harry uncomfortable.”

“He sort of brought it up.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. After you walked away, he mentioned it was odd to hear me call you cute.”

“And brilliant,” he said with a rakish grin. 

“Of course.”

“But how did that lead to your knickers?”

“Oh, it was infuriating. The reason he thought it strange was that he couldn’t remember me ever giving you any compliments.”

“Oh.”

“And I was telling him how silly that was.”

“Right.”

“Obviously, now that we’re together... I’ve been attracted to you for as long as I can remember, but it’s certainly easier to tell you now, don’t you think?”

“Uh, sure. I mean, previously I worried that telling you how gorgeous and sexy you are would get me slapped, and now I’m just curious which one of us ends up on our back.”

 “Stop,” she giggled. “But before we were together, I always told you how highly I thought of you.”

“Well, I don’t think you hand out unearned praise.”

 “Of course. But I’ve complimented you loads over the years. Right?”

Silence hung between them. 

“I love you?” Ron finally responded. 

“You agree with them?”

“I really love you?” said Ron. 

“You truly don’t think I ever complimented you?”

“You… tried once. When I got the prefect badge in 5th year,” he said. 

“The only reason I didn’t have anything was that I couldn’t think of a way to say it without hurting Harry’s feelings!”

“Really, love, don’t worry about it. You said things about my Quidditch performances as well. At least the good ones.”

“No! We.. we cleared the air on all this. Viktor, Lavender, the locket. Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“What would I say? You should have complimented me more? How self-involved would that sound? And now that we’re together, you do compliment me all the time. If I’d said something, maybe I’d question if you were being genuine or not now.”

Hermione was quiet. “I never realized that I wasn’t. It all ran through my head so much, but I guess I never… things would have been so different if I had.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Really?” she said with disbelief. 

“Yes, really. I won’t lie - compliments couldn’t possibly have hurt. But you basically asked me on a date, and my mind still couldn’t process that you wanted to be with me. And at that point in my life, the praise to Harry would have still bothered me, so the locket would have glommed onto that.”

“I would never have said-“

“Hermione! Listen to yourself! You didn’t do anything wrong telling Harry those things. His life was shit, and he’s your best friend. It’s not your fault I was an immature prat.”

“I was really just passing along what the girls were saying about him in the loo.”

Ron looked amused. “Is that how girls talk in the loo about boys?”

Hermione laughed. “I’m not even sure what I told you.”

“At the risk of reinforcing what an insecure git I am, you mentioned how tall and fanciable he was and went into all of the Chosen One and Ministry persecution stuff,” Ron said. “I’m just saying that is not how we talked about girls in our dorm.” 

“Ah, yes, I did clean it up a bit, but they did at least talk about Harry with a bit of reverence and respect as opposed to treating him like a  piece of meat as they did with you. But I’m interested in how the boys discuss girls.”

Ron winced. “Sorry, I never even thought about what she might say that you’d have to hear.” 

“No, that was a whole different set of issues. These were other girls.” 

Ron stopped. “Other girls? What did - nevermind, it uh, doesn’t matter.” 

Hermione was surprised to find that his aborted question hadn’t even bothered her. “I won’t tell you everything, but I did already tell Harry… Bridget Nichols said she wanted to climb you like a tree and -” 

“What?!” 

“Yes,” she laughed. “And you remember Tori Daylon?” 

“She was that short little thing, right?” 

“She thought she was the perfect height to make you very happy.” 

“Merlin, you girls are just as bawdy as us,” Ron laughed. 

“We have hormones too.” 

“You never said anything about me, did you?” he asked. Hermione shook her head. “But what type of review am I going to get in the bathroom this year from you?” 

“You’re incorrigible,” she laughed.

“Is that a compliment?” 

“Absolutely.” 

[mtgc858]

Some more headcanons in my au

1.Henry has a younger sister named Hella(I was originally going to make Henry a girl in my au but I changed it to this instead), People sometimes think that Hella is Henry and Henry is Hella cause they look similar despite not being twins.

Side note is that Henry was indeed trapped in that tunnel in thatone episode and Hella tried to get him out but couldn't,Hella has a slight grudge on Sir Topham Hart but never spoke up about it cause she was afraid that is would cause problems.

2.Edward and BoCo have been friends since the were.children and have a sibling like relationship with each other,Edward found BoCo injured years ago and took care of him till he healed,They than because best friends and basically treated echother like siblings.

BoCo feels that he has to repay Edward somehow cause of him basically saving him from his wounds depute Edward saying that he doesn't have to,They both feel uncomfortable when someone says that they look cute together cause they see echother as siblings and not romantically.

3.Percy is actually female in my au and is a tomboy,She kinda just accepted the fact that she looks like a boy than a girl and got tired of correcting other's about her gender,Edward,Thomas and Duck call her she/her cause they respect her meanwhile James likes picking on her and purposely calls her a dude just to make her triggered while Gordan is just a butt and doesn't care about her and Henry let's it slip out by accidentally.

4.Percy sees Duck as both a brother and a father figure ever since they met and she looks up to him and wanted to be like him as well as Edward,Duck always liked Percy's company and would enjoy trips around sodor with her while singing some songs he learned in his home town.

Duck is certainly teaching Percy how to play his guitar that he has from his hometown and they would have a bonding experience when not working,They are such cute sweet friends and so adorable together.

5.Duck ironically loves water but in the episode"Duck in water" he didn't want to get fully wet cause he didn't want his work clothes getting soaked and he really didn't have anywhere to go since he was in the middle of the railway far from the station.

Duck did think it was super ironic when actual ducks were in the water when he was sitting on his engine's buffer and had that "Really" kinda of mood at the time,He also got triggered when James joked about it with the whole "I though ducks liked the water" which Duck was a little bit salty.

6.(If you saw my ask of Diesel takeing of his shirt,You might of noticed that he has a stitch wound on his side) Before Diesel came to Sodor and met the engines he got attacked by a unknown group that hurt him and left a nasty gash in his side, Thankfully he got help from the hospital and was let go shortly after.

Diesel is a little sensitive with his scar but he uses it as a excuse to why he acts all touch so it doesn't happen again,He is a soft guy by heart and doesn't want to actually hurt someone like that group and is willing to protect anyone that is being in that situation.

And that's all for now, I'll come up with some more soon 😉

[quentinblack]

Smoke and Mirrors 

Chapter 4:  Ron I - Strength and Weakness

Featuring: Ron, Bill and Charlie Weasley

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1.3K words

The distant sound of the rooster’s morning cry stirred Ron from his slumber – and then, upon opening his eyes, he was briefly blinded by the piercing light coming from the spring sunrise. He tried his best to fall back to sleep, but the cockerel in the garden’s persistent crowing ruled this out as a feasible option.

It was Harry’s fault.

He’d been the one who had insisted on keeping the window open. It was stuffy of course – and it was a warm enough night that it made sense to keep it open, but Ron never liked keeping windows open. It meant spiders and other creepy crawlies could sneak in sometimes and give him a fright when he woke.

Dean Thomas once told him that muggles reckon you can swallow up to 8 spiders a year whilst you sleep – the thought both simultaneously disgusted and horrified him.

He peered over enviously at his best friend who lay comatose, completely unstirred by the commotion in The Burrow’s back-garden.

Ron on the other hand hadn’t slept well at all, especially for somebody who had barely got a wink of sleep in several days.

The limited sleep that he did get had been plagued by nightmares and horrific flash-blacks of Fred’s cold, dead body. In the dreams where he wasn’t seeing his older brother’s corpse – he would instead see dead versions of Hermione, Harry or the rest of his family.

It was bad enough being awake, but now he couldn’t even find any solace or sleep in the bed he had longed to be back in for months.   

There wasn’t even really anyone Ron could talk to about it.

Hermione was sympathetic of course, but he was scared of showing his fragility to her. He already had so many flaws and struggled to understand why she wanted to be with him when she was so perfect in comparison – the last thing he wanted was her thinking he was weak.

He couldn’t bring himself to talk to either of his parents – they were both already distraught enough at losing a son, without having to worry about him too.

George tried to put a brave face on it, but Ron could tell he was devastated by the loss of his twin. His entire personality had changed now, whilst he was still cracking jokes on a regular basis – they were much darker than they’d ever been before.

Percy was out of the question as he’d taken Fred’s death worse than anybody, even George. He not only held himself personally responsible for his brother’s death - since he’d been the one with him at the time, but he was also outraged at how unfair it all was. He’d kept repeating over and over again that it if there was any justice in the world then it would have been him who had died instead, since he was the one who had disowned his family.

Ron was far too proud to talk about his demons to his little sister – if anything, he was ashamed by how strong she was, especially compared to him. Ginny seemed as adept at coping with it as Bill or Charlie were.

Bill himself was out of the question as he was back at Shell Cottage with Fleur, but Charlie was staying in Bill’s old room. Charlie had always been a hero of Ron’s and he knew he could go to him with anything, but he was too embarrassed at the thought of breaking down in-front of him.

Charlie had always been so effortlessly cool, strong and talented and he didn’t want him to take pity on him, or think he was weak. 

That just left his best friend. Most people would consider it the most natural thing in the world to talk their problems over with their best friend, but well, most people’s best friend isn’t Harry Potter. To complain about grief to Harry would be like moaning to a werewolf about the struggles of finding a well-paid job.

Ron thought he heard some distant muttering coming from the window, but then he heard nothing at all, so guessed he must’ve just imagined it.  

“GEROFF ME!! GEROFF!!”

The sudden shout from the garden took Ron by surprise. It seemed he hadn’t imagined it after all.

He pulled himself up from his bed quickly to look out of the window. It soon became apparent that the shout had most likely come from a gnome that Bill had hurled away from the house. The eldest Weasley sibling now leaned against the side of the house and looked around for something in his jacket pocket, whilst in the distance a gnome scurried away to safety.

“Decent job though if you do decide to take it.”

The sound of Charlie’s voice caught Ron off guard slightly as he’d assumed Bill had been alone.

He guessed that Charlie hadn’t been able to sleep and had been pottering around in the garden or kitchen when Bill had arrived.

“Yeah well Fleur certainly wants me to… said I should’ve accepted it on the spot.”

Bill took out from his pocket what looked like a packet of muggle cigarettes. He pulled one out and offered it to Charlie, who gladly accepted. Bill reached for another cigarette and put it in his mouth, then he used his wand to light first his brother’s, then his own.

They both took a fairly sizeable drag and then exhaled.

“I thought she made you quit these?” Charlie probed.

“She did,” Bill replied bluntly.  

“We both took them back up after the wedding, helps with the stress. They’re not great for your health... but you stop worrying about that so much when you’re not even sure if you’ll make it to the end of the week.”

Bill took another long toke, but Charlie simply sighed and run his spare hand through his hair uncomfortably.

“I should have been here, man. I was selfish, Bill. Really selfish. I can see that now. I was up all night thinking about it and-

“Do yourself a favour and don’t blame yourself, Charlie. You worked long and hard to get the job of your dreams – you would’ve been foolish to throw it away. There’s nothing you could’ve done and-

“But look at everything that you have done, Bill! You were there the night Dumbledore died. You were there the night they flew Harry to safety. You took Ron, Harry, Hermione and countless others in at great personal risk at the height of the war. You were there from the start at the battle. If I’d just been there-

“There’s nothing you could’ve done, Charlie! Don’t you think we’re all thinking the same thing? Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“But he’s dead, Bill! Our little brother, dead.”

What Ron saw next was one of the most peculiar things he’d ever seen in his life. Charlie threw his half-smoked cigarette to the ground, then pulled his hands into his face and… and he started to cry.

 It was an almost surreal experience to witness someone who had always displayed unwavering strength reduced to such a state, but Ron took significant solace from it. If it was okay for Charlie to cry, then maybe, just maybe, it was okay for him to not be okay too.

Bill had now also discarded his cigarette and he pulled his younger, yet much bulkier brother in for a hug. He patted Charlie’s back and whispered words of encouragement that Ron couldn’t hear over Charlie’s sobs.

“Little Freddie, Bill! Little Fred!” Charlie whimpered and wailed into Bill’s shoulder.

Ron couldn’t watch any longer – it was making him want to cry himself, besides that, he felt like it probably wasn’t a moment that he should be witnessing anyway.

He shut the window carefully so as not to make any noise, then lay back in bed as his brain raced away with his thoughts. It took no longer than two minutes for him to fall into a deep sleep.  

[remedialpotions]

A Family Affair

ao3

“Mum,” said Bill, frowning at the scroll of parchment before him, “this is way too many people.”

“We’ll manage,” replied Mum as she inked yet another name onto the list. “Besides, you know how Aunt Muriel gets. If we leave anyone off the list, we’ll be hearing about it for years-“

“I know, I know, but come on.” Bill placed a finger next to one of the names, careful not to smudge it. “Thomas Prewett? Have I ever even met him?”

“Don’t worry about him, he’s that second cousin of mine-“

“Second cousin?!” Bill repeated. “Why are your second cousins invited to my wedding?”

“It’s what’s polite,” stated Mum in that tone she always took when she wanted him to stop arguing. “But you don’t have to worry about him, he’s the one who’s an accountant now, he’s not going to come.”

“Then why bother?”

“I would think you’d want your family there.”

Bill slouched down, swinging one leg up to prop his foot on the seat of a chair opposite him. He had promised Fleur that he would take on more of these wedding-related negotiations - and really he was happy to do it, if it made her happy - but they were sapping his strength.

“I do,” he said evenly. “But that means my actual family, not second cousins of yours that I’ve never met.”

“I’m sure they all came to see you when you were born-“

“Oh, well.” Bill couldn’t stop himself rolling his eyes. “That changes everything.”

Mum’s lips tightened together. “I just think it would be nice - Fleur’s list doesn’t have many people on it-“

“Right, because her family are all in France-“ Bill broke off, shaking his head. “We just hoped we could keep the wedding a bit smaller, that’s all. Less people you’ll have to cook for-“

Her hand swatted the back of his. “Don’t be silly, it isn’t a problem at all. Now, here.” She placed a stack of cream-colored envelopes and a bottle of shimmering green ink in front of him. The fancy ink - the special occasion ink. “Why don’t we start addressing the ones we know are going out? We can quibble over second cousins later.”

“All right,” Bill conceded as he reached for a quill. “Have you got addresses?”

Another scroll of parchment was unfurled in front of him. Bill leaned forward to read the name at the top and promptly, to his mum’s chagrin, burst out laughing.

“Charlie?!” he exclaimed. “What am I sending an invitation to Charlie for? He’s my best man, I think he’s aware of the wedding.”

“It’s what’s proper,” said Mum, picking up her own quill. “But if you’re going to put up a fuss, then that’s fine. You can start with - with Percy.”

And he didn’t miss the way her voice went brittle as she spoke his name, like all the air had left her lungs. The air left the room, certainly; any lingering laughter died on Bill’s lips.

“Percy,” he said slowly. “You’re joking.”

Silence fell as Mum tucked an invitation carefully into an envelope, eyes fixed on her work. “He’s your brother.”

Bill let out a sharp breath through his nose.

Yes. Strictly speaking, he and Percy had the same parents, which made them brothers. But Bill also thought that any proper brother of his wouldn’t have spoken to Dad the way Percy had, or made Mum cry for an entire summer. He wouldn’t have shown up - on Christmas, of all days - as some sort of minion for the Ministry.

“He isn’t going to come,” said Bill gently as his mother began inscribing Xenophilius Lovegood’s name onto an envelope, her jaw stubbornly set.

“You don’t know that.”

“I…” Bill sighed again. “I do know that, Mum. Even if we - even if you invite him, he’s not going to come.”

“It’s your wedding, dear,” she said, setting the envelope aside. “You said you wanted your family to be there.”

“Right, but…” Bill paused, but Mum still wasn’t looking at him. “I don’t want him there.”

Bill had not imagined that he might care this much about the guest list - though he was quickly learning that the wedding was about everyone but him and Fleur - but the notion was leaving him as swiftly as it had come. He could not have cared less if Thomas Prewett showed up with his Muggle calculator, or if the party was so vast and packed with quasi-strangers that it spilled out of the tent and stretched all the way to Exeter.

But Percy. Percy was different.

His mum’s second cousins had never mattered to him. He had not taught them to ride a broom, or helped them with maths homework at the kitchen table, or gotten them drunk for the first time on the family trip to Egypt. They had not made his fists tremble with rage and frustration, or made his stomach flip from the very thought of them. To Bill, they were inconsequential. They did not matter.

But Percy mattered. And so Bill could not have him there. Not like this.

“Now you listen here,” said Mum, leaning toward him, her quaking voice low and dangerous. “Your father and I are hosting this wedding, and we’ll decide who is or isn’t welcome in our home. Percy is your brother, and this is a family event, and he is our family. Do you understand?”

She stood so suddenly that it jostled the table, causing the parchment to roll back into itself, and started toward the stairs.

“Mum,” Bill called after her, desperate for her to see reason. “Mum, just listen-“

A door slammed shut, then, and silence fell.

Bill slumped forward, pinching the bridge of his nose, and contented himself with the thought that Fleur probably wouldn’t have fared any better.

•••

London was hot. The whole south of England was hot - Percy was not unaccustomed to this - but at least in Devon, there had been fresh air, space and room to breathe. In London, the skyscrapers seemed to trap everything in so that the city itself became stuffy, like a locked room with no windows. The heat and humidity just grew and built upon itself until it became unbearable.

Or maybe he just missed home.

But he didn’t. Why would he, when his long-overdue departure had been the catalyst for his meteoric rise to success at the Ministry? He had remained Junior Undersecretary to the Minister even through an administration change, which he knew was almost unheard of. It spoke to his talent, really. To his hard work. It proved that if he threw himself wholeheartedly into it, and dedicated all of his time and energy into being the best employee he could be, that all of his sacrifices would be worth it.

All of them.

Which was why, even though it had no business being so hot in early June, he had parked himself at the desk in his Central London flat. There was always something he could work on, always some way to do more. His plan, as it had been for the past two years, was to throw himself so fully into his work that he had no time or headspace for anything else.

Still, though. It was getting rather uncomfortable in the flat.

He stood, using the back of his hand to brush sweat from his forehead, and walked over to the window. It didn’t open much, just a small gap at the bottom, and there was hardly a breeze anyway. Nothing like the Burrow, where the windows opened wide and let the wind rush in and topple everything over.

It had always been difficult to get any work done like that.

No sooner had Percy sat back down, however, than a tawny owl flew in through the window he’d just opened with a large envelope clamped in its beak. How odd, Percy thought, to receive an owl on the weekend. Most Ministry correspondence was kept strictly to business hours.

As Percy took the envelope from the owl, he caught a glimpse of the penmanship on the front and felt his stomach drop. It was his mother’s writing. Countless scenarios flooded his mind, none of them cheerful; the weekly letters had stopped over a year ago, and now she never wrote him unless it was bad news.

He slid a finger under the flap and broke the wax seal, then drew a thick piece of parchment from inside. His eyes scanned the words, pressed into the page in elegant script.

M. & Mme. Alexandre Delacour

and

Mr & Mrs Arthur Weasley

request the pleasure of your company at the marriage of their children

Fleur

and

William

on Friday, the first of August...

Percy stopped reading; his hands were shaking too much. He recalled seeing Fleur Delacour at the kitchen table, back on Christmas, but he hadn’t been aware of this most recent development. To think that his eldest brother was betrothed, and he hadn’t even known… he supposed he must have been too busy cleaning mashed parsnips from his glasses to notice an engagement ring.

But why had he received an invitation? The last time he had been to the Burrow, they had made their position quite plain. Ginny and the twins, in particular, had behaved quite outlandishly - and he, Percy, had been on official business with the Minister, so it wasn’t as if they should have taken his presence personally.

Perhaps it was just proper etiquette. People always cast a wide net when sending wedding invitations, and they never expected absolutely everyone to attend. Good manners and tradition was all it was. He wasn’t really meant to attend.

Yes, that would be it, he decided, walking slowly back to his desk. Just good manners, the way they would probably also invite that second cousin of his mother’s who worked as an accountant, and then not notice whether he was there or not.

Percy gave one last look at the invitation, then dropped it into the small metal bin under his desk.

Then he set back to work.

[vmheadquarters]

When it came to Hulu’s revival of the beloved UPN-to-CW teen detective drama Veronica Mars, creator Rob Thomas had exactly 18 f—s to give.

Or give up, that is. The executive producer had assumed that since the resurrected series, now starring an all-grown-up title character (Kristen Bell, reprising her breakthrough role) would be airing on the streaming service, beginning July 26, there would be some latitude when it came to profanity.  As they might say over on Bell’s other current series The Good Place, he was forking wrong.

“The original script had 18 f—s in it. In fact, the first word of the show was, f—,” says Thomas with a laugh. “Hulu came back to us and said, ‘You can say any word, but not that one.’” Fans will soon learn the inventive solution that Thomas devised to make sure his title character keeps it clean(ish) as she reunites with her dad Keith (Enrico Colantoni) to run their family gumshoe business in sun-soaked but seriously shady Neptune, California, where there is a steady stream of clients thanks to clashes and alliances between the affluent and the struggling.

“We were so bummed,” says Bell of the cursed cursing, but a silver lining came in the form of comedy gold “because now it becomes a [running joke], and yet another way that Veronica and Keith can stay playful.”

Beyond that glitch, the sailing was smooth AF for the return of the series which began on UPN and migrated to the CW over three seasons beginning in 2004 and spawned a 2014 Kickstartered feature film. Since wrapping the movie, all involved have openly talked about wanting to reunite and the stars — and Thomas and Bell’s schedules — finally aligned. (Hulu is currently airing the first three seasons of the series for new fans to jump in and old fans to brush up.)

The eight-installment season 4 gets right down to business in reestablishing Veronica’s relationships: with her dad, friends like Wallace (Percy Daggs III), reformed bad boy boyfriend Logan Echolls (Jason Dohring), and the cesspool of Neptune’s criminal underbelly. The overarching storyline concerns a bomber attacking spring break locations and thus, putting fear in to the hearts of residents and dents into the lucrative tourism revenue stream.

Bell didn’t think twice about sliding back behind Veronica’s telephoto lens.

“I really want to play this character for a while,” says the 39-year-old Michigan native. “It felt so necessary when I got back into her skin. And I have a theory: When the world felt safer, we were okay rooting for Walter White [of Breaking Bad]. I don’t think people want an antihero anymore, I certainly don’t. And Veronica is safe. She’s fighting for good. She’s in situations that we’ve all been in, where we felt like an outsider. I mean, that is the response I get from fans: ‘This show helped me get through high school.’ ‘This show convinced me not to do X, Y, Z terrible things to myself.’ I’ve had a lot of fun on a lot of jobs, but that’s a huge factor of why I keep coming back to this.”

Colantoni can’t help but beam paternally when discussing the seamlesslness of his reunion with Bell. “She’s always been brilliant in the multitasking even as a younger, more unknown actor,” says the veteran who has made his own imprint in over 30 years of TV and film roles from the shlubby everyguy Eliot of Just Shoot Me to lovable alien leader Mathesar in the beloved Galaxy Quest. “Her dexterity is just so heightened now, her life has gotten so much bigger. And to see her just so present and grounded in that character– it speaks volumes about Rob’s writing and how easy it is to live in — but it’s a testament to her and how talented she is.”

That mutual admiration zings around among the cast as does the sense that returning to the show was like simultaneously slipping on a comfortable old pair of shoes and trying out new ones, as they discovered who their characters were further down the line.

“It’s both, exactly,” says Dohring, who also worked with Thomas on his soon-to-conclude CW series iZombie. “It’s everything that you figured out before, and there’s also new aspects” like his enlistment in the Navy which was revealed in the 2014 film. “What did he do? How did it shape his life?  How does he become more disciplined?” were all questions the 37-year-old asked himself.

“Rob is allergic to writing stale stories, which is great for us, because we can keep having him do it, and he will find something to reinvent,” says Bell of the series in general and of the Logan/Veronica relationship specifically, which is definitely not a “happily ever after” scenario. “And that’s what I love. There is a huge dynamic shift when you start with Logan and Veronica. Logan’s been going to therapy, that’s huge. Veronica is not open to therapy.”

“Veronica’s going to start in a different place than she usually does,” says Dohring, “And she’ll have this arc and [Logan’s] kind of the counter balance to that in the way where [he’s] figured out something [in therapy].”

Logan has also, apparently, been going to the gym befitting his character’s work whose deployments are shrouded in mystery, but whose torso is not. (“They brought on the stunt guy and they didn’t even use him all day, it was just me! I was really proud,” says Dohring of a fight sequence in an early episode.)

“What was exciting about it was that I didn’t have to try so hard,” says Colantoni of returning to Mars Investigations, where Keith will be dealing with some personal issues. “You look back at the original series, I still had rosy cheeks. Some people might say I had a little more hair. [Veronica’s] a woman now, I’ve got one eye on retirement — this is in real life too. Veronica survived the worst of it. She’s stronger than [Keith] is, she’s smarter than [he is], but she’s not so smart that she doesn’t need dad.”

That Veronica is an adult is reinforced quickly and forcefully from the outset in some very steamy scenes with Dohring. Since most viewers met Veronica as a teenager — albeit a hard-boiled one befitting the show’s noir atmosphere — Bell understands it might take a little adjustment for some viewers.

“Yes, I have long been caught in between the stage of girl and woman,” says Bell, who followed Veronica with a string of successful film and TV roles including Showtime’s House of Lies, the beloved Disney animated musical Frozen, and the aforementioned The Good Place. “They really made Veronica a woman in this series, and I appreciated that, and that Rob is incredibly intelligent and keeps Diane Ruggiero, our female head writer, very close. And Diane is a little bit Veronica herself. She’s whip-smart, she’s not afraid of her sexuality. She’s just a dynamite human being. The fact is that this is a more rated-R series, we’re not shying away from the fact that Veronica is an adult woman.” Plus, Bell adds with a laugh, “I’m hoping that the audience can deduce that since I have two children, I’ve had sex in my life, minimally, two times. So it isn’t a new, or uncomfortable, experience for Veronica. It’s something she very much enjoys, and I want people to feel free to watch it and feel all the feelings.”

Even before these eight episodes have aired, everyone is ready to sign up for more as schedules allow.

“The thing that we know is that creatively, Hulu was very happy with how this turned out,” says Thomas. “So, I think if we do well — and I have no idea how streaming judges these things, that remains a mystery to me — that everyone would be game for seeing when we can slot in the next eight episodes.”

“I am wholeheartedly committed to playing this character until the fans don’t want me to anymore,” says Bell, who envisions a scenario in which she returns intermittently until Veronica needs bifocals to see through her binoculars. “I would play it till she hits ‘Murder She Wrote,’ and everyone in Neptune is dead. Because it feels that good to play her. It feels good to fight for what’s right and just, and also maintain a sense of vulnerability while possessing porcupine quills.” And, a taser, just in case.

[galbinuscarnation]

Okay so prompt: Alastair and Thomas go on a vacation but get kidnapped by pirates.

A Shadowhunters Guide to Cutglasses and Carstairs**Inspired by A Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue**

When Thomas Lightwood set out on this vacation with Alastair Carstairs he hadn’t quite imagined this predicament. He was currently stuck on a ship on the Mediterranean as a hostage. Alastair was nowhere to be seen, since he had gone below deck to fetch something before the ship was unexpectedly taken. Thomas knew he could handle these rogues, but the secrecy of shadowhunters took priority over any danger he may be in at the hands of mundanes. He shifted awkwardly, since his broad shoulders were brushing against a petrified petite woman and her family. This cruise had certainly taken a turn for the worst. “You there! Stop ya squirming!” The pirate Captain bellowed at Thomas. Thomas winced, since his growth spurt most people regarding him as more of a threat than he was accustomed to being seen as. Especially since he hadn’t thought to glamour his runes, to a mundanes eye he was probably a hardened criminal and not a gentleman with an angelic duty to protect them all. The woman next to him screeched at the booming voice of the pirate and the crew rolled their eyes or jeered. “Enough of ya nonsense, we ransacking ya belongins and taking this man.” Suddenly the captain attempted to heft Thomas up and he was surrounded and tied up. He anxiously wondered where Alastair was, but his blatant lack of concern for his own safety made the captain scowl. “You best watch yarself mate, we got plans for you.” Thomas frowned. “I’m more concerned for your safety sir.”“Was that a threat?!”“No I was just-” Thomas was gagged and lead away from the trembling crowd. He kept an eye on the pirates, who seemed to be harmless in the grand scheme of things, only turning over pockets and heading below deck to corral the rest of the guests and their belongings. He searched the sea for any sign of a navy vessel or any one that could help. All he could see was a small vessel in the distance, but he could not see the colors, and doubt they would turn their spyglass towards his direction.“Captain, there’s an unruly man below deck, he’d stolen our swords!” A stout man shouted at the man who was tightening the knots of his ropes. “Hes got tattoos like ‘im!”“No wonder you ain’t afraid, you got a bodyguard. Everyone, git the man!”There was a familiar guttural cry coming from below decks as the pirates scrambled for some semblance of order. Suddenly Alastair burst up onto the deck, with two cutglass in hand, weaving his way through the crowd like a wind storm. His dark eyes searched for Thomas and landed upon his state of arrest. Now instead of playing like a cat surrounded like mice Thomas could see the rage in Alastair’s strikes. Between parries he would hit the back of the sword against a pirate’s head to send them tumbling down to the deck. No mundane was any match for Alastair’s wrath, and the hostages were moving themselves out of the way of the so called battle.Thomas groaned in frustration and tugged at his bindings, he’d had enough of his helpless not-a-trained-warrior facade. He couldn’t allow Alastair to take the brunt of the force alone. He tore through the poorly knotted ropes and ripped the gag off of him. He then barreled into the crowd, creating a panic among the crew and the captain who was barking orders amidst the chaos. Alastair grinned wide with relief at Thomas’ arrival and tossed one of the blades to him. Together they weeded through the crowd until they were both back to back. While some pirates were unconscious or on the floor in pain they were still horribly outnumbered. “Surrender the swords!” The Captain bellowed. “Or we’ll start with the hostages!” He pointed a pistol at the frightened mundanes. Alastair stared tautly at the Captain, challenging him with his furrowed brows. “I’ll call your bluff.” He retorted.“Alastair,” Thomas hissed. “He has a GUN.” “Only a man without any shred of honor would point a weak weapon at the helpless.” Alastair continued. The Captain visibly bristled at the insults. “Weak? I’ll show you weak.” He pointed the gun at Thomas this time, and his men backed away from the line of fire. Alastair opened his mouth, his eyes widening in horror. Thomas braced himself for the pain, the man wasn’t pointing at his vitals but gun wounds were a pain to remove and an iratze would only close the bullet within his flesh. Suddenly there was a thump as the Captain was knocked unconscious by a bulky item that had swung expertly against his noggin. The rest of the pirates paused, their mouths agape at the new ship that had approached them. A mixed crew of people descended from the lines and Thomas raised his eyebrows at the gentleman who had thwacked the captain with a violin case. His hair was coarse and curled up in a ponytail, and he was shockingly taller than himself, with skin darker than Alastair but still lighter than some of his friends who were attempted to calm and reassure the hostages on deck. “Hallo, fancy meeting you in the middle of a tussle!” A smaller voice spoke and Alastair and Thomas whizzed their heads to stare at the small man standing next to the musician. “Quite impressive if I do say so myself.” “Monty we still need to apprehend the pirates…” The taller one sighed.“Oh pish posh Percy, look they don’t know what to do with themselves!” The smaller one named Monty gestured wildly at the pirates being tied up alongside their captain. Thomas was vaguely reminded of his dear friend Matthew, the man had the same cheerful demeanor and posture, but was short and had brown hair poking out of a raggedy knitted cap. “What is the meaning of this?” Alastair demanded suddenly, pointing his sword at tall Percy. “Who are you and how do we know you aren’t also pirates?”“Privateers.” Monty corrected immediately, lowering the sword with the tip of his finger. “A distinct difference!”“Monty that’s sharp!”“Alastair put that sharp sword down!”Thomas blinked at Percy since they both spoke at the same time. Percy glanced between the two of them and nodded as if he had read their history in a blink of an eye. Thomas flushed but gently pried the sword out of his love’s hand. “The danger is over.” He murmured, as Percy was chiding Monty about touching dangerous objects and the shorter man simply laughed unconcerned. “I… they tied you up, why did you not fight them at first?” Alastair wondered, glaring at him as if he were chiding a child. “They’re mundanes, I didn’t think it was worth it.” Thomas whispered. Alastair huffed and crossed his arms. “Now the trip is ruined.” Alastair sighed.“Nothing’s ruined as long as your safe, my hero.” Thomas pressed a chaste kiss on Alastair’s cheek, causing the grumpy gentleman to blush. Of course, after all the commotion Thomas and Alastair were able to help the mundanes and hitch a ride back to Barcelona with their new found privateer friends and their crew.

[alovelylight]

we will love too many people in one lifetime

Dean and Seamus found secretive roads behind Dean’s house that led to the sea, where they watched the rise and fall of foamy waves with a collectively held breath. His stepdad Gerry flipped steaks and roasted bacon in the afternoons, awkwardly attempted to teach Dean to do so, and regretted it. He did get along with Seamus, though; they played ball in the backyard, and Dean sketched his friend kicking red dust into the air. He held his breath then, too, but he did not know why.

(or: a study of bisexual characters in Harry Potter)

AO3

Harry had learned not to ask for things he wanted. That was what the Dursleys taught him, over leftover, burnt toast and faded hand-me-down jeans. He was a boy who befriended a snake and an owl before other people, but when he did, it was with a boy who also felt too much and had a little less. So imagine his surprise when he went to Ron’s home for the first time, to emerge within the warm glow of the kitchen, to hear and feel the tingle of affectionate laughter on his skin.

He was a boy who hadn’t asked for many things, but he learned how to.

It started with bacon and buttered toast for breakfast, an impromptu game of Quidditch with the Weasley brothers, an extra pair of shoes from Mr. Weasley because the old ones strained his feet. This was a family that built a home out of questions – Are you happy? What do you need? How can I help? Then all too soon, there were anti-Dementor lessons with a world-weary teacher and relying on inextinguishable help from Hermione – and eventually, Ron – for the tournament.

But with them, he didn’t have to ask; they were always there. As Ron’s legs lengthened even further and Hermione got new teeth, Harry blushed at Cho Chang over clammy hands and snuck furtive glances at Cedric Diggory’s unassuming back. At fourteen, feelings still felt misshapen in his stomach, too raw and jumbling for him to bear.

So of course he’d mentioned it to the best friend most attuned to emotions. “So you’re into blokes too now?” Ron scratched his head, then shrugged, “Well, I suppose you and my sister do have something in common after all. I’d be wary of Diggory though, the last person who had teeth that shiny was Lockhart…”

Hermione didn’t seem surprised. “You stared at Bill way too much during the summer,” she said – to Ron’s horror – and returned back to her reading. “I can give you some books about the history of bisexuality from classical societies to contemporary politics, if you’re interested.”

When Cedric fell, Harry would see the delicate outlines of his face in nightmares for a long time to come. Beauty could not protect a person – neither could goodness or honor, and Cedric had all three. That knowledge made the lightning on Harry’s face curl itself into his fists; he was sick of people dying because of him. He had never asked for it. It shouldn’t have been his parents and it shouldn’t have been Cedric, people who believed in the power of sacrifice but also believed in standing your ground.

Ginny Weasley wasn’t interested in dying for him, not really. She said his name in a fond whisper rather than holding it up like a prayer (after Riddle, she would never do that again). Ginny saw him as what he was – a boy of flesh and bones, nerves and sweat, with wind in his hair and sunlight in his heart. They shared laughter and kisses over firewhiskey and took the longest way to get back to Hogwarts from Hogsmeade, her strong yet birdlike hands tucked in his.

Harry was a boy who hadn’t asked for many things, but love wasn’t one of them.

He remembered the curve of Cedric’s smile, how his eyes blinked lazily in the sun, the light hairs on his thighs. Ginny gave him the world in the form of laughter, the way she took him away from the demons lurking behind his scar. Love came to him, yes, but he had learned to reach across the dark to find it.

#

Since she was small, Lavender Brown viewed her life as a series of stages. She was five and had just became the top student in Miss Ingram’s ballet class, she was eight and was learning to apply her mom’s Russian Red, she was eleven and was finally boarding the Hogwarts Express. Her mom had snuck in a tube of bright lipstick into Lavender’s bag as a parting gift.

Alas, Lavender did not count on striking a conversation with a girl who smelled of peaches and talked of Hindu myths in the train, but that was what happened. Parvati Patil had luxuriously thick black hair and the warmest eyes she had ever seen.

Lavender had friends before, of course – girls who giggled with her over actors and came over for tea, but not girls who shared her clothes and rarely left her side at the hospital wing. Snape even had to separate them when Lavender couldn’t stop playing with Parvati’s hair during Potions, and the next day Parvati went to class with all her coils lopped off so they could stay together.

At the Yule Ball, while Seamus – her date – was distracted by something Dean Thomas was saying, Lavender angled her head to watch as Harry Potter led Parvati around the dancefloor. Both of them were awkward, but she knew Parvati well enough to notice that her friend hid it well. Lavender thought she looked heartbreakingly lovely.

Several rounds of punch later, Parvati and Lavender were sprawled in the gardens, ballet flats abandoned in the grass and layers of hairdo coming undone. They were giggling about something – Durmstrang boys hoping to impress, the shape of that particular cluster of stars, the dire quality of both their dates – when Lavender realized how much she liked this, this feeling of coming alive with the universe whenever she’s with Parvati.

She continued to date boys – boys who carried her books to class, boys who acted offended when she wouldn’t let them feel her up. Ron Weasley was, embarrassingly, the high point of her love life; she ignored that most of their displays of affection were made in public, and that his eyes followed Hermione Granger around constantly.

Parvati frowned whenever she mentioned him, but never really said anything. She was this way: composed and cool until pushed over, then the fire would come spitting out. That came when Lavender was moaning about her boyfriend’s inattentions, how she put in so much more effort –

“Do you even love him?” Parvati’s sharp voice broke through her lamentation.

“Parv, he’s my boyfriend.”

“So?”

“So, I like him a lot. Merlin, I might even love him. I don’t know. Why does this matter?”

“Lavender, you know what to name your firstborn, which paintings to hang in your future five-storey house, when and where your early spring wedding in Brittany will be, so don’t you dare offend me by saying that you don’t know.”

“Well, I –” She had thought about it, sure – he had cute freckles and a nice smile, and she liked how competitive he can get over chess. That he didn’t have a career plan worried her a bit, and his further disregard for her divination studies riled her up, but people have their faults. “I suppose I don’t, but I can learn how to.”

“You can’t learn to love someone. And Ron certainly doesn’t give a shit,” Parvati’s unexpected expletive stunned her. “It makes me mad, to see you like this. Fretting and fussing over him, and he would still take you for granted,” she sighed, kicking her bag from the foot of her bed to the floor. “I say this as your dearest best friend: grow a bloody spine.”

“You’re being a bitch. Go to sleep.”

“I’m not a bitch, I’m just honest!”

“You’re rude when you’re tired. Sleep.”

She did take Parvati’s advice to heart, though. When she told her friend of the breakup (Ron looked relieved, so Lavender turned his hair purple for dramatic effect), Parvati looked like she was struggling not to reveal a satisfied smirk, which should annoy Lavender but it really didn’t.

“I have news too,” Parvati said. The way she bit her nails suggested that this was serious.

“Oh yeah? What is it that I don’t know about you by now?” Lavender grinned, leaning forward. “Hey – your nails – stop.”

“Well, you know how I’ve never…shown interest in guys?” Lavender nodded, feeling the same age-old suspicion rise at the tip of her tongue, the inkling she had not dared ask Parvati to confirm. It’s not that she feared her friend would get mad or offended; even at Lavender’s most clueless, Parvati would still look at her with warm eyes. She just didn’t want to make the issue of those eyes appearing in her dreams bigger than it should be.

“The short of it is that I fancy girls,” Parvati said, glancing at Lavender. “What, you’re not surprised? Huh, neither was Padma, so I guess I was not so good at hiding it.”

“You know I support you. I’m kind of offended it took you this long to tell me, really.”

“I thought it was a phase, no need to make a big deal,” Parvati smiled wryly. “How wrong I was. Anyways, I only told Padma, because she’s my sister and she’s got more wisdom than me.”

“And what did Padma say?”

Parvati seemed to face an internal struggle, darting her eyes to her lap and then at Lavender’s hands. She squeezed them, breathed this and pressed a shy, soft kiss against the other girl’s mouth. It took Lavender a few long heart-racing moments to comprehend the situation – her best mate, who was a lesbian, was snogging her. Snogging!

When Parvati made the move to pull away, Lavender closed her eyes and pressed forward, because damn all this – the ceaseless planning, the tiresome dating, the obsession with perfection – this was the girl she has been loving and laughing with for seven years and this was coming alive. And if being alive meant spilling past the lines and the conventions, your heart in another girl’s mouth and your desires going both ways, then so be it.

#

The first girl Percy Weasley ever fell in love with was Penelope Clearwater. He wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly when and where, and he hated such neglect of important details, but he was mostly sure it happened along nightly school corridors around the last two months of their fifth year.

He had seen her reading Muggle classics, all fiction, which baffled him. Why a smart Ravenclaw like Penelope would bother with imaginary worlds was beyond Percy, who believed in the supreme importance of facts and numbers. He asked her about it during one of their patrols, and listened as she rambled on about courageous heroines and dashing antiheroes and tension-charged romances, her eyes housing such fire that it left him speechless.

Before he knew it, she was loaning him classic novels that they discussed and debated over during their prefect patrols. Penelope preferred Bildungsroman stories of defiant girls growing up and finding a place in the world (Northanger Abbey, Anne of Green Gables), Percy preferred novels that intertwined history and politics with fiction (War & Peace, Les Misérables). Moreover, he liked to see the flame in her eyes, the testy look she gets when they disagreed. Soon enough book discussions spurred towards the personal, and they verged on something like real friendship.

That summer, he wrote so many letters his fingers were sore and read so many novels he needed new glasses. He met up with her at Diagon Alley and impulsively kissed her over banana sundaes. A few weeks later, he told his parents he’d be at Oliver Wood’s but accompanied Penelope to her house in a Muggle college town, where they bicycled to the public library and stargazed with her parents. He even took her to her elder sister’s wedding, where he whirled her around in a pretty yellow dress, the music and the champagne and the girl making his head spin.

But first loves often came to an end, and even with this Percy wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly when and where.

It started with this, though: Oliver Wood’s blunt finger twirling a stray hair behind his ear, both boys bathed in the low light of the deserted common room. He was looking at Percy like he was the answer, and he couldn’t be. But a question he hadn’t thought of since seeing her, as confusing and shameful as it was, reformed in his mind.

Then N.E.W.T.s rolled around, and he became too busy for kisses and moonlight trysts, ink dotting his hands as stress climbed his stomach. One day she just kissed him in resolution, and he knew her well enough to know that it wasn’t one made of love and continuity.

The second time he fell in love, he was a different man. He collected more scars and burdens, wearing the imprint of hubris in pinstriped suits and wondering where he went wrong. He didn’t fall in love with a socially advantageous daughter of a Ministry official that would elevate him – no, the real thing was far more wondrous and terrifying than that.

Percy worked alongside Oliver Wood in the Order’s Recruitment Department after he came back. In many ways, Oliver’s disappointment was worse than his family’s; he knew Percy in colors and layers that no-one else would’ve dreamed of, seen him laugh and cry and curse the world. By their seventh year, Percy knew theirs was a skinny love, driven by his own fears of the unknown – but if the past two years of estrangement taught him anything, it was that he was tired of fear and pride meddling in the way of happiness.

They fell into bed before falling in love, learning the lines and edges of each other’s bodies that they didn’t get to see in their dorm at Hogwarts. It was only meant to be sex, a solace in the midst of war, but soon enough he was staying at Oliver’s overnight, holding his hand beneath the table at headquarters, sneaking in kisses and caresses when they thought nobody was watching. Oliver lacked Penelope’s softness, but had all of her brightness.

“Perce?” he said one night, his hair trailing inside Percy’s mass of curls. They were lying in Percy’s old bed in the Burrow, recovering after a dinner Tonks messed up and Molly had to fix at the last minute. Six months into their love affair, or whatever this was, and they still marveled at the way their bodies fit together like weathered puzzle pieces.

“Hmm?”

“Did you ever love Penelope?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Yes. I did,” he sighed, pushing his nose against Oliver’s neck. “I still think about how she’s doing every once in a while.”

“So she wasn’t a cover.”

“Ol,” he looked at his lover pointedly. “I was so traumatized when she got Petrified in sixth year, I couldn’t even go to class. Yes, I loved that girl.”

“That’s good. She made you less of an uptight git.”

“While no amount of romantic sensitivities could turn you into any less of a prig.”

Percy yelped when Oliver bit his earlobe. “Look, Percy,” he said suddenly, his voice low and serious, “this thing we have is…great. I want to continue it. I want to be with you, you know?” Percy slowly nodded, watching Oliver as he fumbled with words – not his most able area. “I don’t want to be just your experimental phase, so if that’s –”

“Oliver, you are not a phase.” His tone was soft but firm. “I’m bisexual, I’ve read plenty of books and pamphlets about it. And I know I love you.”

“Yeah?” they grinned at each other. “I’m quite fond of you too, you git.”

#

Dean Thomas never knew his father. He couldn’t get his mom to tell him stories of the man either, as she always pursed her lips when he asked, and so he resorted to Muggle photographs. His father was tall and wiry and black, much like Dean himself, but his eyes blinked with amused mirth – like he knew something you didn’t.

And he did know a few things Dean didn’t. One, that he was a wizard, and two, that he was killed by Death Eaters in the First Wizarding War. In his first year, he and Seamus Finnigan tracked down books that mentioned his father, who was often described as a self-made martyr, a Gryffindor dying in a blaze of glory – someone whose strength of will never festered even in the face of death.

“If he wasn’t playing the hero he might’ve been able to live and take care of his family,” Dean grumbled, pushing a thick volume of history away.

“He was brave,” Seamus said, bumping his shoulder against Dean’s.

“Didn’t even tell his wife that he was a wizard, leaving her to find out eleven years later after his death,” he snorted. “You call that brave?”

“He was trying to protect, I think,” Seamus said uneasily. “At least your old man left for noble reasons.”

When he took Seamus to meet his mom, his stepdad Gerry, and their set of triplets that summer, Seamus brought his ability to talk about anything with anyone along with him. “He was stunned by the simplest things,” said Dean’s mom with a small smile, sad and fond. “Took him awhile to get a hang of the telephone and the car. He also seemed to get from place to place far faster than I could, and at times, things seem to fall and crack whenever he’s in a temper.”

She made Dean tell her stories of Hogwarts, of moving staircases and sentient portraits, colorful ghosts and Quidditch matches. The triplets, although had shown no evidence of magic, listened to Seamus’ animated stories with wide eyes and begged him to do some spells. “Can’t,” he said, glancing at Dean with an indulgent grin, “we’re not allowed to do any in the summer.”

Dean and Seamus found secretive roads behind Dean’s house that led to the sea, where they watched the rise and fall of foamy waves with a collectively held breath. His stepdad Gerry flipped steaks and roasted bacon in the afternoons, awkwardly attempted to teach Dean to do so, and regretted it. He did get along with Seamus, though; they played ball in the backyard, and Dean sketched his friend kicking red dust into the air. He held his breath then, too, but he did not know why.

When Dean accompanied Seamus and his mother to the Quidditch Cup, he also brought his Muggle half-siblings along. His mom and Gerry were worried at first, but they had grown fond of Seamus and his spirited mother. (Seamus was truly his mother’s son; both shared the same troublesome grin and sandy curls of hair).

In the midst of re-explaining the rules to one of his little sisters, Dean watched as Viktor Krum performed the Wronski Feint with such strength and intensity that he paused to gape. He was a fan of Quidditch, of course, practically everyone was – but there had been more that caught Dean’s eye. Krum loomed overhead like a god, unassuming in his own glory, like he knew he was born to perch the skyline. It was, put quite simply, the most attractive thing.

(He was glad that Seamus was too distracted cursing the air around him blue to notice).

When he asked Ginny Weasley out for a bottle of butterbeer at the end of fifth year, he wasn’t sure what he expected her to say. He knew he fancied her; she gave him a similar feeling Krum had when he was fourteen – a stomach full of nerves that came out of watching someone larger than life.

Whenever they kissed, she gave him bite and tongue and fire. His hands clasped on her hips, wisps of hair escaped from her long braid, he knew it should be the stuff of a teenage boy’s fantasies, which should make up for the occasional awkward pauses in their conversation. Not that Ginny was boring – no, quite the opposite, but sometimes he felt so overwhelmed by her energy that his mind went blank.

Seamus was unusually high-strung after his dates with Ginny, and Dean had to worm responses out of him, usually through tickling or annoying persistence.

“I don’t know why you hate her,” he grumbled, slumping down on the patch of grass beside his friend. They were lying on the grounds outside Hagrid’s hut, their books and quills forming a clumsy ring around their sprawled bodies.

“It’s not that I hate her,” said Seamus. At Dean’s doubtful look: “I just hate her stupid hair. And her laugh. And her smile. And her bloody…fingers.”

“Her fingers?”

“Yeah! Oh, sod off –” Dean threw his head back and laughed. Seamus was struggling not to grin, and lost badly.

“Her fucking fingers, Seamus?”

“It just gets on my nerves. She’s always touching you with them, and they’re so…bony – how is she a Chaser, anyways? Does she have replacement fingers? Can you find out for me?”

“Ah,” Dean smiled, propping himself up by the elbow. “Do you fancy my girlfriend?”

“No,” he said, with such finality that Dean dropped the issue. “Are you happy, Dean?”

He didn’t meet Seamus’ eyes, but felt them on him as clearly as the pale sunlight. “Eh, reckon I’ll be alright. You?”

“With such contagious enthusiasm, how could I not be?”

“Shut it,” he sat up, observed Seamus beneath the canopy of leaves. “Stay where you are. I want to draw you.”

When she broke up with him, he spluttered with indignity at her accusation and tried to get her to change her mind. But what was done was done, and he let her go with a glare. It was hard to forget Ginny Weasley, but well, there were brighter shores. There had to be.

So while the undercurrents of war and slaughter brewed around them, Dean spent summer nights listening to Seamus’ heartbeat because it was both life and music to him. He knew he had to pack and leave soon; his father’s alleged bravery had left no proof of Dean’s being half-blood.

“Hey, Dean,” Seamus said to him one day, running his hand through Dean’s hair. They were watching the ocean waves, huddled in the darkness. “I love you.”

It was not a revelation; it had been a long time coming. “And I love you,” said Dean. “But you know that I have to leave, right? I can’t go to Hogwarts and keep my life at the same time. I can’t love you and have you watch me suffer, it’s not fair.”

He felt the wetness of Seamus’ tears. The shorter boy curled himself around Dean like a question mark, his face tucked against his neck. “Now you understand your dad’s plight, right?”

Dean sighed. “I guess so. We all have to pick our battles.”

They kissed for a long time, tracing each other’s cheekbones, ears, foreheads with the delicacy of a quill. Dean reckoned he should show Seamus that sketch he made of him.

[papermoonloveslucy]

BE A PAL aka BE A PAL TO YOUR HUSBAND

June 18, 1950

“Be A Pal” aka “Be A Pal To Your Husband” is episode #93 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on June 18, 1950 on the CBS Radio Network.

Synopsis ~ Liz feels thinks George would rather not spend time with her anymore, so she tries everything she can think of to be a pal to her husband. 

REGULAR CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cooper) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. With Richard Denning, she starred in a radio program titled “My Favorite Husband” which eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cooper) was born as Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father’s garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his  roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.”  From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Gale Gordon (Rudolph Atterbury) had worked with Lucille Ball on “The Wonder Show” on radio in 1938. One of the front-runners to play Fred Mertz on “I Love Lucy,” he eventually played Alvin Littlefield, owner of the Tropicana, during two episodes in 1952. After playing a Judge in an episode of “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” in 1958, he would re-team with Lucy for all of her subsequent series’: as Theodore J. Mooney in ”The Lucy Show”; as Harrison Otis Carter in “Here’s Lucy”; and as Curtis McGibbon on "Life with Lucy.” Gordon died in 1995 at the age of 89.

Bea Benadaret (Iris Atterbury) was considered the front-runner to be cast as Ethel Mertz but when “I Love Lucy” was ready to start production she was already playing a similar role on TV’s “The George Burns and Gracie Allen Show” so Vivian Vance was cast instead. On “I Love Lucy” she was cast as Lucy Ricarodo’s spinster neighbor, Miss Lewis, in “Lucy Plays Cupid” (ILL S1;E15) in early 1952. Later, she was a success in her own show, “Petticoat Junction” as Shady Rest Hotel proprietress Kate Bradley. She starred in the series until her death in 1968.

Ruth Perrott (Katie, the Maid) was also later seen on “I Love Lucy.” She first played Mrs. Pomerantz (above right), a member of the surprise investigating committee for the Society Matrons League in “Pioneer Women” (ILL S1;E25), as one of the member of the Wednesday Afternoon Fine Arts League in “Lucy and Ethel Buy the Same Dress” (ILL S3;E3), and also played a nurse when “Lucy Goes to the Hospital” (ILL S2;E16). She died in 1996 at the age of 96.

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

GUEST CAST

Hans Conried (Professor Millmoss / Joe) first co-starred with Lucille Ball in The Big Street (1942). He then appeared on “I Love Lucy” as used furniture man Dan Jenkins in “Redecorating” (ILL S2;E8) and later that same season as Percy Livermore in “Lucy Hires an English Tutor” (ILL S2;E13) – both in 1952. The following year he began an association with Disney by voicing Captain Hook in Peter Pan. On “The Lucy Show” he played Professor Gitterman in “Lucy’s Barbershop Quartet” (TLS S1;E19) and in “Lucy Plays Cleopatra” (TLS S2;E1). He was probably best known as Uncle Tonoose on “Make Room for Daddy” starring Danny Thomas, which was filmed on the Desilu lot. He joined Thomas on a season 6 episode of “Here’s Lucy” in 1973. He died in 1982 at age 64.

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George’s boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benaderet was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Coope.  The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

This script is a revision of "Be Your Husband's Best Friend" episode #21 of “My Favorite Husband” aired December 8, 1948. The program was aired before Liz and George’s last name was changed from Cugat to Cooper. Hans Conried was in that episode as well. 

This program was the basis for “I Love Lucy” episode “The Camping Trip” (ILL S2;E29) and parts of the identically titled "Be a Pal" (ILL S1;E2). 

“Jell-O Everybody!”

The episode opens with Liz and George having an argument over breakfast about where to spend their evening. Liz wants to go to a symphony concert, while George wants to play poker.  

At their club luncheon, Liz and Iris listen to a guest speaker talk about “How To Be Happy, Though Married”. Professor Phillip Millmoss (Hans Conried) suggests the ladies be a pal to their husbands. Liz wonders why it has to be the woman who gives in - but Millmoss tells her to consult his new book (page 65):  

PROFESSOR MILLMOSS (reading): “Be your husband’s best friend. Be like his dog. You’ll never hear a man arguing with his dog!” 

On “I Love Lucy,” the book Lucy Ricardo takes advice from was written by Dr. Humphries. Unlike the radio version, the author is not a character in the script. When taking his advice doesn’t work out the way she hoped, Lucy quips “Doctor Humphries can go jumphries.” 

Liz resolves to employ the “Millmoss Treatment” with George and sits beside him to read the evening newspaper. Liz pretends to be interested in the sports section. 

LIZ (reading headline): “Williams Bags Crown By TKO in eighth.″ 

Liz pronounces TKO phonetically as ‘Tuh-Ko” although George corrects her.  The exchange was repeated verbatim between Lucy and Ricky in “The Camping Trip.”

LIZ (reading): “Midget Racing! They oughta be ashamed making those little men racing around the track.” 

George sarcastically calls Liz Ted Husing, and then Red Barbar.

Ted Husing (1901-62) was one of CBS Radio’s most popular sportscasters. By 1950 his salary was an astronomical million dollars!  Red Barber (1908-92) was a play-by-play announcer for major league baseball, then announcing for the Brooklyn Dodgers and holding down his own CBS TV sports show “Red Barber’s Club House.” 

LIZ (reads): “Now they’re racing little girls! It says so right here,‘Yesterday at Tanforan a race was won by a three year-old maiden!’  She certainly was carrying a lot of money for a little girl. She had $2,000 in her purse.”

The line is virtually identical on television, except that Tanforan (a horse racetrack outside San Francisco) was changed to the more familiar Churchill Downs. 

George / Ricky then refers to Liz / Lucy as Grantland Rice (1880–1954), a sportswriter known for his elegant prose, although the reference was removed for TV syndication when Rice died in 1954. It was restored for the DVD release. Clueless Liz / Lucy think he is a food!

Liz is determined to join in the poker game that evening, despite not knowing anything about the card game. Lucy also tried this tactic on “Be A Pal”. 

LIZ / LUCY (looking over her cards): “There’s her sister! What do you have?” 

MR. ATTERBURY / FRED: “I shouldn’t talk, but tell your two Andrews Sisters not to wait up for LaVerne!” 

Interestingly, the poker players consist of Joe (also voiced by Hans Conried), George, and Mr. Atterbury played by Gale Gordon. Gordon was on the short-list to play Fred Mertz on “I Love Lucy,” so it is fitting that these lines were given to William Frawley in the TV version. The Andrews Sisters were a close-harmony singing group most popular during World War II. In 1969 Lucy played LaVerne Andrews on an episode of “Here’s Lucy” that guest-starred Patty Andrews as herself. Lucille Ball’s daughter, Lucie Arnaz (not yet born at the time of the radio show) took the role of the third Andrews sister, Maxene.

Mr. Atterbury suggests that George take Liz on a rigorous camping trip to dissuade her from being George’s ‘pal’. Iris warns Liz about her husband’s plan, just as Ethel does in “The Camping Trip.” Liz / Lucy recruits Iris / Ethel to turn the tables at the campsite.  

Liz and George engage in a fishing contest, just like Lucy and Ricky.  Iris / Ethel arrives with some store-bought trout to fool George / Ricky.  

LIZ: “Throw them to me, Iris. That way I can tell George I caught them.” 

On radio, George becomes suspicious. It seems Iris has purchased LAKE trout, not the kind found in a stream. On TV this is goof is omitted. 

 Liz / Lucy challenges George / Ricky to a footrace back to camp.  

GEORGE / RICKY: “Since I’m a man, I’ll give you a head start.” LIZ / LUCY: “Since I’m a woman, I’ll take it!” 

Back at camp, Liz is patiently waiting for George, having hitched a ride back in Iris’s car.  

LIZ / LUCY: “I got back so early, I had time to wash my hair.” 

Next morning Liz and Iris conspire to make George think she’s an expert duck hunter and sharp-shooter!  The same scenario is repeated in “The Camping Trip” with some minor line changes. Liz takes aim at the tree, and on cue Iris tosses a duck at her feet. 

GEORGE: “I don’t get it. Liz. First you catch a Lake Trout in a stream, now you shoot a duck marked Birdseye Frozen Foods!” 

Lucille Ball (as Liz) then does her classic spider face “Ewww!”  On television, the duck Ethel has bought is not the frozen variety, but one freshly plucked!  

RICKY: “You know, that’s pretty good shooting. Not only did you kill the duck, but you knocked its feathers off and cleaned it, too!” 

It is likely that CBS did not want to give an unpaid promotional mention to the Birdseye Company, although the thawed bird resembles the classic rubber chicken that is so associated with vaudeville comedy. 

The main difference in this scene on radio and television is that Liz demonstrates her shooting skill with the horseshoe AFTER the duck hunting, but before it on television. When Iris is exposed, Liz and George decide to stop being pals and go back to being just husband and wife. 

BOB LEMOND: “Watch for Lucille Ball in ‘Fancy Pants’ with Bob Hope.”

Fancy Pants was a musical adaptation of Ruggles of Red Gap that premiered on July 19, 1950. It was the second of four films Ball and Hope did together.

A short commercial for Sugar Crisp follows the mention of Ball’s film. A final rendition of the Jell-O pudding jingle ends the program. 

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Alnwick Castle’s Gunpowder Plotter

If you’ve been watching Gunpowder on BBC One over the past few weeks, you’ve probably heard the names ‘Thomas Percy’ and ‘Northumberland’ – one was a Gunpowder Plotter alongside Kit Harington’s Catesby, and the other part of King James’ council. But Northumberland – or Henry Percy, 9th Earl of Northumberland – and Thomas were also both strongly connected to Alnwick Castle. One was its lord and owner, and Thomas was its Constable.

Thomas, who was born in Yorkshire in 1560, was a distant cousin of the 9th Earl; they shared a great-great-grandfather, but while Thomas’ father was a country squire, he was proud of his Percy ancestry. Growing up near Beverley where the family had had great influence, he may have heard stories of famous rebellious forebears like Harry Hotspur, or another Thomas, beheaded for his Catholic faith by Elizabeth I.

He was probably given the role of Constable by the 9th Earl around 1594. Northumberland was looking for someone active, and high-profile, to be his most important northern official; the fact Thomas was a Percy was an advantage, but probably not the only reason for getting the job.

Being Constable of Alnwick Castle meant being an official at the highest level – the Constable was directly responsible to the Earl of Northumberland himself.

Thomas and the earl were similar ages, and both had been reckless and adventurous young men. Thomas once wrote to his cousin about “the errors and idle vanities of my youth”.

When Thomas arrived in Alnwick, he would have been a large, tall man with a blonde streak of hair. There was considerable trouble on the border between England and Scotland at this time, and so one of his first acts was ensuring the tenants of Alnwick had equipped themselves with helmets, shields, pikes and horses so they could defend their interests, and those of the earl, from Scottish attack. He also had to make sure Alnwick Castle had enough brewing, kindling, horse fodder, bedding and other supplies.

However, Thomas himself was suspected of allying with Scotland several times. One of his servants, a man called Davidson, was accused of joining with Scotland, and Thomas himself supposedly sold the bell of Warkworth Castle to the captain of a Scottish ship.

Eventually, Thomas became a messenger of the earl to the court of King James VI in Edinburgh on behalf of English Catholics.

Thomas’ religious beliefs were one reason to take on this role. Though probably not the most devout of the Gunpowder Plotters, he was a Catholic, and both he and the earl hoped for increased tolerance of private Catholic practices once James became King in England too.

(Northumberland himself is known to have said he did not trouble himself much over religion.)

Other reasons why Thomas became a messenger to the Scottish court included Alnwick’s proximity to Edinburgh, his great skill as a horseman, and the fact he had served with the earl’s predecessor as a young man – and the 8th Earl was likely a supporter of Mary, Queen of Scots.

Thomas made the trip across the border several times, and it seems that assurances had been made that James would consider some kind of Catholic tolerance in England. Perhaps his failure to do so was what provoked Thomas to join Catesby and the Plotters.

Most of Thomas’ time as Constable of Alnwick Castle appears to have been spent on horseback, travelling around the earl’s territories, chasing thieves and collecting rents. He would write regularly to the earl – his last letter surviving in Alnwick Castle’s archives is dated 19th September, 1605, just a few weeks before Gunpowder, and mentions meeting Northumberland in London on Thomas’ next visit – but by 1602 the earl’s other officials were also writing to complain about Thomas’ behaviour.

Complaints included the unjust imprisonment of tenants in Alnwick Castle, taking bribes, and constantly interfering in matters beyond Alnwick that did not concern him.

The 9th Earl seems to have trusted Thomas, however; at least in his early years as Constable. Surviving letters have him described as “my trusty and well-beloved cousin” and “my loving cousin Thomas Percy esquire”.

Thomas’ letters were studied by former Alnwick Castle Archivist, Colin Shrimpton, for the 400th anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot. Shrimpton describes Thomas as ‘a man of great mood swings. It is hard to put your finger on it, but there is an underlying feeling that he was up to something.’

He definitely was – as we know from the Gunpowder series, Thomas took a leading role in the plan to blow up King James and the Houses of Parliament. Star Chamber, the official court based in the Palace at Westminster at the time, described him as ‘one of the principal conspirators in this… abominable treason’.

(Thomas was also married to Martha Wright, the sister of two other Plotters, John and Christopher Wright.)

As seen in Gunpowder, Thomas leased the storerooms under the Lords’ Chamber where Parliament would meet on the 5th November, 1605, and gave Guy Fawkes (using the name John Johnson) to oversee storage of gunpowder and wood there. Thomas also had a watch delivered to Fawkes for correctly timing the lighting of the fuse, but this detail has been changed for the series, as you will see if you watch the final episode!

Thomas himself arrived in London on the 1st November, after collecting various rents in the north, and on the 4th November, he met the 9th Earl of Northumberland at Syon House, one of his London properties (and one that still belongs to the Percys today). Thomas and the earl ate together on the 4th, and probably discussed Border matters, but we don’t know if Thomas also warned his cousin and employer about the Plot and what was going to happen the following day.

Unfortunately for the 9th Earl, having dinner with Thomas the day before Fawkes was discovered underneath Parliament with the gunpowder implicated him in the Plot, whether he was actually involved or knew about it or not.

Evidence given against the earl in the court proceedings following the discovery of the Plot state that on “the Monday [Thomas] went to Syon and then had secret conference with the Earl. And that Monday at 11 o’clock at night Percy sent Robert Keyes, one other of the said traitors, with a clock or watch unto Fawkes”.

One nobleman who was warned about the Gunpowder Plot was Lord Monteagle, who received a letter warning him not to attend Parliament on the 5th November. The Monteagle Letter ultimately led to the discovery and foiling of the Plot, and Thomas, who was an acquaintance of Monteagle, was at one time suspected of having written this letter. If this was true, it would follow that he had also warned his cousin the earl, and that even if the earl was not actively involved in the Plot, he was suspected of knowing about it.

However, Mark Nicholls of Cambridge University notes that the 9th Earl had travelled into London from Syon on the evening of the 4th, and his robes had been prepared for attending Parliament the following day, so perhaps he did not know anything about the Plot. It certainly appeared like he was not intending to avoid it.

When the Plot was discovered, Thomas and the other Plotters fled. On the 7th November, at Holbeach Hall in Staffordshire, a single shot killed both him and another Plotter. Some sources say this was Catesby; he and Thomas were standing back to back defending themselves, and the bullet went through one man and into the other, killing both. Thomas’ head was then cut off and exhibited in London.

When news of the Plot, and Thomas’ involvement in it, reached the region where he had been Constable, one man – George Whitehead, from Tynemouth Castle – proclaimed ‘I wish to God he had never been born.’

Thomas was now dead, but the Earl of Northumberland was still under suspicion. He was immediately suspected of involvement because, as Shrimpton states, he was ‘the Plotters’ likely chosen regent for the realm had the Plot succeeded’.

Nicholls agrees, noting that investigators were ‘convinced that so audacious a plan had wider ramifications’ and arrested several noblemen with known connections to the Plotters. The earl was one of these, and though Nicholls argues the Plotters had not definitively chosen a Lord Protector for their new realm (they had hoped to raise King James’ daughter Elizabeth as a Catholic Queen), Northumberland was a likely candidate. He was ‘a privy councillor, a member of the old nobility, a wealthy man and, though himself a Protestant, representative of one of the foremost Catholic families in England’.

Northumberland was arrested at Syon and taken straight away to Lambeth Palace for questioning before being transferred to the Tower of London (if you watch Gunpowder you may not see this take place on screen!). Star Chamber alleged he was part of the Plot because of his kinship with Thomas Percy, their meeting at Syon on the 4th November, and that while the Plotters were fleeing, the earl’s main concern was not that Thomas was apprehended, but that he didn’t steal his recently collected rents on the way!

The final charge against Northumberland was Thomas’ appointment as a Gentleman Pensioner, the select group of bodyguards that attended the King on ceremonial occasions. The earl was captain of the Gentleman Pensioners, and may have given Thomas the honoured role as reward for his journeys to James’ Scottish court. However, Thomas had never been made to swear the oath of loyalty that went with the position, and the fact that he, now a known would-be killer of the King, had been allowed to carry a poleaxe in James’ presence without having sworn any oath of loyalty was not favourable to Northumberland’s innocence.

(The fact Thomas’ appointment as a Gentleman Pensioner coincided with the time he committed himself to the Gunpowder Plot must not have helped the earl’s case.)

The Star Chamber report explains the situation: ‘he did either maliciously or negligently prefer Thomas Percy, an obstinate papist, into the king’s service to attend as a pensioner; and put an axe of defence into his hands that had formerly sworn to kill the king. To this the earl answered that he had trusted him long and knew no ill in him in that time.’

Thomas Percy was the only man who could clear Northumberland’s name – or condemn him – or in the words of the time, show him ‘clear as the day, or dark as the night’. In fact, the first messengers to reach London from Holbeach reported Thomas was only wounded, not dead. The 9th Earl asked for an immediate examination to take place to show his innocence – but Thomas was dead, and so this could not be done.

The report from Star Chamber declares that ‘some of the lords said that they had known some others convicted of treason upon lesser and more weak presumptions than these. And what this case deserved in regard of that most execrable powder treason, let all nations be mindful, for no tongue can express what ruin and desolation both nocent and innocent had tasted’.

Reports that Thomas had told one of the other Plotters that ‘if the business did miscarry, the Earl of Northumberland would curse him’ must have also counted against his cousin Henry. The 9th Earl of Northumberland was condemned to prison.

The 9th Earl spent nearly 17 years as a prisoner in the Tower of London, but maintained he was innocent throughout. He was also fined £30,000, an enormous sum of money to be raised from his estates.

However, he lived in very comfortable conditions for a prisoner. He could control his own diet, with everything from wine to lamprey pies being delivered to him from Syon. He had his library transferred to his cell, and built both a laboratory for his alchemy experiments and a schoolroom for his two sons to be educated in. His horse was brought up from his Sussex estate for him to inspect and ride, and he could go for walks on pathways he had re-gravelled. He could play games with his sons, bowl in the bowling alley made for his cell, and study military tactics with them using lead soldiers. He also set up a counting house for his auditors just outside the Tower, and could survey and map his lands, leading to a full involvement in the management of his estate that meant he could afford the £30,000 for his release.

By 1622, the earl was free, but confined to his estate in Sussex. He never visited Alnwick Castle again. The Gunpowder Plot, described at the time as ‘that most execrable and dampened powder treason, whereby the political head and many of the principal members of this commonwealth… should at one instant have been suddenly blown up and dismembered to the utter ruin of the whole monarchy’, had had a lasting effect on the castle, and its family. As the 9th Earl’s brother Josceline put it, there is ‘seldom treason without a Percy’.

The final episode of Gunpowder is broadcast on BBC One on Saturday 4th November, or is available to stream with the whole series on BBC iPlayer.

Gunpowder: Trailer - BBC One