#(although seemingly for being rude and mean when he visited london and not because of impressment)

[clove-pinks]

A gilded ship on the cover of The Square-rigged Cruiser, or Lorrain's Sea-sermons by Alfred M. Lorrain. This is the same War of 1812 veteran whose autobiography The Helm, the Sword, and the Cross describes his time at Fort Meigs.

Lorrain is clearly drawing on the "helm" portion of his experiences for his sermons, and an introduction to the book mentions the near-universal appeal of "every thing belonging to the watery world." I couldn't find anything in the text directly referencing his time as a soldier [ETA: there is a brief mention], but he made an interesting choice on the title page:

"Free grace and sailors' rights"??

"Free grace" is a reference to the Christian theology of God's blessings and salvation being a free gift, but more to the point it's an obvious riff on the American slogan Free Trade and Sailors' Rights that was a pro-war rallying cry during the War of 1812.

Lorrain's autobiography was written 10 years after The Square-rigged Cruiser, at the end of his life. Maybe he was still trying to make sense of his war experiences in 1853; it's obvious that he was traumatized by what happened at Fort Meigs. There's a shadow of war even in his book of sermons.

I can't help but compare Lorrain to another War of 1812 veteran whose trauma seeps into his writing: Captain Frederick Marryat. Some of the best parts of Diary in America are Marryat revisiting "the late war."

[havecourage-darling]

Rictusempra

Words: 2,037 

Warnings: None

Pairing: George x Reader

A/N: As I said previously, I have a lot in mind for this little mini-series. Hopefully they’ll all be able to read as stand-alones, although they do probably read better in order. I’m a bit sick at the moment so I’ve stayed home from work and watched Sorcerer’s Stone and was inspired to write more and got this out in like five minutes. So, excuse any grammar errors. 

*As a reminder, please note - I’m no longer posting on Tumblr. If you want the continuation of this story, you can find it on AO3 or on my Masterlist.

1. Previous, Diagon Alley | Next, 3. Lightning has struck

“Happy Christmas!” A pair of voices shouted, startling you.

You smacked the closest one to you and Fred yelped.  

“Oi! Woman! Watch the goods!”

“You two promised to stop frightening me after I dropped my cauldron in September!” You reminded them.

George and Fred turned to each other and grabbed their heads, remembering the smell of burnt hair. “Right, right, sorry!”

You rolled your eyes and offered them a candy cane. “Happy Christmas, you two going home?”

“Yeah! Charlie’s coming around for a visit too!”

“Aw man,” you frowned.

“You could still come you know.” Fred tossed an arm around your shoulders. “Mum and Dad love your parents.”

“It’s a bit much really,” George joked.

It was true, your parents had struck up an unlikely friendship with the Weasley family. They’d already written to you about their visits to the Burrow. Your mother had introduced Molly to all her favorite novels while your father took Arthur out on excursions in London.

Molly had already invited you all for Christmas dinner but, you’d already promised your grandparents that you’d be over for a visit.

“Maybe next year? Or on summer holiday?” You suggested and they’d brightened up.

“’Course! You’d be able to meet Bill then,” Fred said.

You grinned. Charlie and Bill are the only two Weasleys you’d yet to meet.

“See you later!” Someone called out. You turned towards the sound and spotted your friends. You waved back to a few of them who’d gotten up from the table, giggling, and hurrying off to the common room.

Your friends always giggled when Fred and George hung around you, pranking you and talking about the latest Quidditch match. Apparently, not many first years regularly became friends with third year students. 

“There they go again, giggling,” you joked, waving again.

“Aw, they’re just little first years!”

You frowned. “Hey!”

George smiled. “I remember being that young Freddie, we had so much planned.”

“Good pranking year that was.” Fred nodded.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re both ridiculous. You’re barely two years older than me.”

“Barely?” Fred stood, mock outrage evident on his face. “I don’t know if you remember but our birthday is in April, badger.”

You only just stopped yourself from wacking them with your bag. Fred and George had greeted you during the welcoming dinner, George grinning and cheering when the hat had shouted – “Hufflepuff!” – with it barely having touched your head.

They’d found you the next morning, a little lost and trying to find your way to Charms.

“Aren’t Hufflepuffs supposed to be good at finding things?” George asked.

“Maybe the hat made a mistake,” Fred grinned, both of them herding you towards the third floor.

“It’s a big school!” You said defensively.

“Come on badger, can’t have you be late for your first class,” George pushed you forward.

“Don’t call me that,” you huffed, climbing the stairs.

“Yeah, come on badger,” Fred said, ignoring your quip, “or else Mum’ll have our heads!”

Since then, the nickname had stuck.

“Will you stop with that-” you started for the thousandth time.

“Oi!” A new voice had shouted.

The three of you looked up and you realized that it was later than you thought. The Great Hall had emptied out, with only a few students lingering behind.

“Can I help you?” You asked as a group of Slytherins walked towards you. You recognized Marcus Flint, a fifth year, who loved scaring and frightening first years.

His nose turned up and his mouth twisted in an unpleasant snarl. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

You felt yourself flush and Fred stood up quickly, standing close to your left shoulder.

“Yeah?” He asked, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. “What do you want Flint?”

George came up behind your right, hand on your shoulder, as if reassuring you. Flint’s eyes immediately zeroed in onto his hand and he snorted delightedly.

“Of course you two are hanging around the likes of her,” he said, his two friends laughing as well.

“The likes of me?” You asked,

“A dirty mudblood! The Weasleys were always known for having more kids than they can afford and even worse, being blood traitors,” he spat.

You hadn’t understood much of what he was saying, but by the way George and Fred gasped you’d gathered that it was an insult. The Weasleys had always been kind to you and more than welcoming. Your blood boiled at the thought of someone being rude towards them.

“How dare you!” George shouted, outraged in a manner you had never seen before.

“Now you’re in for it-”

“Mr. Flint! Mr. Weasleys!” Professor Flitwick’s voice came from the entrance.

You turned to see Fred and George beet red and expressions furious. You took advantage of Flint’s distraction and launched yourself at him.

He shrieked and went down like a rock. You sat on his stomach and whipped out your wand.

“Stop that!” The professor’s footsteps quickened but you were faster.

“Rictusempra!” You shouted and both of Flint’s friends went down, laughing and clutching their sides.

Flint was busy trying to buckle you off him but you started wacking him with your books.

“You!” –wack- “Do not!” –wack- “Insult!” –wack- “The Weasleys!” –wack- “In front!” –wack­- “Of me!”

“Young lady! Get off him this instant!” Professor Flitwick demanded.

Instead, you started hitting harder.

“Get ‘er off me!” Flint yelled, arms around his face, trying to push you off him.

“Mr. Weasley! Grab a hold of her!”

Fred stayed where he was. “But Professor – he does deserve it – he called her a-”

“Don’t say it or I’ll join her and crack his big head open,” George scowled.

“Mr. Weasley!”

“He called her a mudblood!” Fred exclaimed.

At that, Professor Flitwick inhaled sharply and Flint had finally managed to buckle you off him. You landed by George’s feet and he helped you stand.

“All of you, in my office, now!”  

///

You all received a long and stern lecture from the Professor. Once he’d seemingly tired himself out, he dismissed you all. “Mr. Flint, I do expect you to show up promptly to detention!”

You winced, you’d all received detention up until the holiday break.

Flint scowled but nodded as he and his group scrambled out. You three turned to walk out but Professor Flitwick called out your name. “Stay behind for a moment.”

Fred and George turned back to look at you but you waved them on.

“Yes, Professor?” Your eyes focused on your shoes.

“Professor Sprout and Professor McGonagall speak very highly of you, you’re on track to be top of your year. I daresay you’ll be Prefect and Head Girl one day. I would hate to see that ruined by anymore bad behavior.”

“Of course,” you said, chagrined. “I really am sorry Professor, I just – they said such horrible things about the Weasleys and I couldn’t just stand there-”

“About the Weasleys?” He asked, brows furrowed. “Mr. Weasley said Mr. Flint had-”

“-he said awful things about them Professor!” You crossed your arms. “We weren’t bothering anyone, honest, and he started-”

“Violence is never the answer,” he said calmly, interrupting your rant, a knowing look in his eyes.

You deflated and nodded, eyes back onto your shoes.

“That being said,” he said slowly, “I would like to commend you for standing up for your friends. I’ll award ten points to Hufflepuff for the expert use of an advanced charm. I’ve never seen a first year take so quickly to Charms like yourself.”

Your head snapped up and you saw Professor Flitwick’s small smile.

“Thank you Professor! It’s because I have a great teacher-”

His face turned bright red and he huffed, pleased. “Alright, alright, that’s enough. Go on, straight to bed.”

You grinned and jogged towards the doors.

“-and take Mister Fred and George Weasley with you! I don’t want to hear them roaming the halls this late!”

As predicted, Fred and George were waiting for you by the end of the corridor.

“Did he yell at you some more?” Fred asked worriedly.

“A little,” you smiled and lowered your voice. “He congratulated me on performing an advanced charm.”

“Wicked,” Fred said, eyeing you with respect. “I always knew you’d be a wild card, thought you’d just be a Gryffindor to be honest.” You rolled your eyes. “How’d you know how to do that anyway?”

You grinned and shrugged. “I read a lot of books. Professor Flitwick always let me stay after to practice my wand work – so does McGonagall and Sprout.”

Fred and George rolled their eyes at you and you laughed.

“What? It’s all new to me! I can’t imagine what it’d be like growing up into a world like this.”

They laughed and you smiled. “I’m sorry they were so rude, does that happen a lot?” You asked.

You occasionally hung around the twins or studied with Percy when you were both in the library but, being a first year didn’t allow for your schedules to match up often. This had been the first time you’d seen Flint around them, so you weren’t sure if he was a constant bully.

“I couldn’t believe how rude he was about your family.” You were getting worked up all over again.

“Flint’s a moron – wait, what?” George said, both of them stopping.

“What, what?” You turned around and looked at them. “What do you mean?”

“We’re angry because of what he said – what he called you,” Fred sputtered. “Why were you angry?”

“Because of what he said about your family,” you said, eyes narrowing. “What was that he said? Blood traitors? I don’t know what it means exactly but, you both looked so offended I knew it had to be bad.”

They stared at you in silence for a beat until you grew uncomfortable.

“Guys!”

George laughed, a little incredulously, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Will one of you tell me what’s going on?”

Fred smiled. “We weren’t upset about that, they’re really uncreative with their insults those three.”

“You numpty. You went crazy on them because of what they said about us?”

You nodded and then a light when off in your head. “You’re upset because of what he called me – what was it?”

Their smiles dropped from their faces. “It’s a foul word, he crossed the line.”

“What was it?”

They shook their heads and you huffed in frustration. You tried to think back and remembered after a moment. “Muddle? Mudblood?” You said uncertain.

George scowled and Fred sighed. “It’s a horrible term for someone who’s muggleborn. Someone who hasn’t got magical parents or a magical family.”

“Oh,” you rolled your eyes and shrugged.

“Oh?” he said, voice high in outrage.

You shrugged. “I don’t care what they call me, silly. I’m not ashamed of my parents or of being muggleborn,” you smiled. “Anyone who does care – doesn’t need to be around me. Besides, it’s just a word of a mean fourth year.”

Fred and George stared at you uncertainly. “Well, you took that well.”

You smiled and walked back to link your arms with theirs. “Come on you two, I’ll teach you how to sneak into the kitchens.”

Fred grinned, excited. “I knew you’d come in handy!”

You rolled your eyes and he cheered, running a few feet ahead of you.

George, however, dropped his arm and took your hand in his. You furrowed your brows and tilted your head back to look at him. “Alright?” You asked.

He shook his head at you. “I can’t believe you took on three fourth years on your own. You didn’t even use magic on Flint - you – you’re something.”

You grinned and squeezed his hand gratefully. “Hufflepuffs aren’t such pushovers huh?” You joked.

George threw his head back and laughed. You couldn’t help but be warmed by the sound of it.

You both stared at each other for a moment, your stomach fluttering, when suddenly a blush rose from his neck. Before you could say anything – Fred’s voice boomed down the hallway.

“Will you two walk faster? The kitchen is calling our names!”

You laughed and walked forward, feeling flustered yourself.

“Come on Georgie.” You turned back to him and smiled. “Let’s go before Fred wakes up the entire castle.”