#Amycus: The Only Threat

[pebblysand]

Hello Pebbly,

Firstly I wanted to say sorry for the the hate you’ve been receiving lately. I just don’t understand why people would go out of their way to send death threats because they have a different opinion. It would be a different story if they weren’t allowed the option to be anonymous.

Secondly I wanted to ask a question about the new chapter of Castles. It was said Ginny only started her nightmares after Amycus died. Why do you think that is?

Lastly I’d like to say I adore your writing. Fan fiction or not, you truly have a gift and I’m so honoured that I get to read your beautiful stories

aw thank you anon, you're very sweet ❤️. although to be honest, i do think the issue goes beyond having different opinions, here. because the strangest thing is: i agree with these people 🤣. i fundamentally do also believe that trans rights are human rights. but i don't think that a) sending hate to people on the internet who do disagree with that affirmation is the solution to bigotry, and b) completely disengaging from fandom because of JKR's opinions is the way forward.

firstly, i agree. the fact that these people go on anon is evidence itself of the fact that they know what they're doing is idiotic. i understand being angry (i'm a gryffindor and an enneagram type 8, trust me, i really do), but obviously, all this does is relieve these people's urges for violent speech. it doesn't actually help any of the issues. and, that's fine, i guess if they feel better after dropping me these anons, then i'm happy for them. but, i doubt they do. i think a big part of being a gryffindor is learning where to take your outrage, and how to use it in ways that can make the world a better place. or else, the frustration just ends up eating you from the inside. this is not it.

additionally, as @copper-dust pointed out, fanfiction (and fandom in general) is one of the main ways to get the representation of marginalised groups that may be lacking in the source material. telling people to disengage is nonsensical. and, on a personal level, i must admit i don't relate at all with this trend we're seeing online of disengaging with any form of media (be it tv, books, etc.) that we, as a society, deem "problematic." if i had to cut out everyone i disagree with from my entertainment regimen, there wouldn't be much left. i mean... wait until these people find out like eminem, 🤣. it's hard to do more controversial than that.

personally, i think life is much more interesting when you engage with media critically and are able to use your brain to question the things you might see or read. i love eminem when he talks about fame and his daughter. i hate him when he talks about kim. there's a duality there that i find essential to my experience as a human on this planet. it's about understanding people are complicated and mostly exist on a spectrum. to tell you the truth, i don't necessarily believe in the idea of separating the art from the artist, but i do believe in engaging with art while remaining aware of who the artist is. reading things in a more educated and nuanced way.

i also must admit that i find this way of telling people: 'you mustn't read/watch/etc. [x] because the author is problematic' bizarrely moralising, and it gives me the ick. i grew up catholic and i find this attitude of 'i'm better than everyone else because i don't engage with problematic content' strangely reminiscent of saints and sinners. like: i claim the moral high ground. i am the saint. you are the sinner. and, well, good for you, i guess. i find sinning more interesting. i don't strive to be a role model, and i don't strive to live a perfect life. i'm not really keen on curating my experience of the world to the point that i end up living in a sterile echo chamber. that wouldn't be very interesting to write about and also, if we acknowledge the best in people, we must also acknowledge the worst - or else the good loses its gravitas.

by that same token, this also ultimately makes me "kid of fine" with the fact that these anons exist, in a strange way. they're not nice to get, of course, but i suppose they're allowed to disagree with me. i wish they wouldn't send me death threats about it, and it does make me angry that, doing this, they ultimately harm the people they claim to defend, but it is what it is. i don't think it's for me, as a non-elected individual representing no one but myself, to tell people what they should or should not think, and do or should not do. i do believe in the right of governments, through elected democracies, to regulate speech as a collective (the way certain countries have made racist speech or holocaust denial illegal), but i guess that's a different matter altogether. i wish people would get fined for expressing racist, transphobic, homophobic, murderous, hateful, etc. "opinions," but that is sadly not for me to decide.

.

anyway, apologies for this digression, now onto your question.

It was said Ginny only started her nightmares after Amycus died. Why do you think that is?

i recently re-read this letter from robert and michelle king, the showrunners of the good wife (do not click this link under any circumstance if you have not watched TGW and intend to watch it someday, major spoilers in that letter) where they said:

'We’ve always taken as a guiding principle of this show that drama isn’t in the event; it’s in the aftermath of the event.'

i find this quote incredibly interesting, and it really resonates with me. i suppose as someone who basically 'grew up' (as a writer) on the good wife, it's probably a vision of drama and creative endeavours that has influenced me more than i had realised. after all, i am currently writing about the aftermath of a dramatic event (the war), and to be, that's where the fascinating material is.

i think there's a lot of that in the way ginny's trauma manifests in castles. a reference i also always think of (for castles as a whole, not for this specifically) is series four of peaky blinders where tommy goes on this shootout situation with the italians, manages to come out of it alive and arthur joke-warns him about the fact that he'll get the shakes later, when the adrenaline comes down. i'm interested in that: what it feels like when the shakes come and the adrenaline comes down.

i think for ginny, there's a lot of that: during the war, when she was being assaulted, she was in survival mode. keep your head down, try to survive, do what you have to do, worry about it later. then, she comes out of it and it's like: all that stuff that she's trying to ignore is coming back to haunt her. i actually headcanon that with the chaos of the aftermath of the battle, the press, the way the weasleys were sort of ushered out of hogwarts, having to bury fred, etc. it took her maybe a couple weeks to find out for sure that amycus was dead. i can sort of picture her trying to ask around (people in the order, the DA, etc.) without raising any suspicions and not being able to get a definite answer until the list was confirmed in the press. i think that's when she realises it really is over, you know?

first of all, she realises he is dead, that he won't talk, and that no one will ever find out. she's very worried about her parents, about hurting them, about how other people might see her, about harry - so that's a big relief. and, secondly, she realises that she is free. that he won't come back. and, i think, that is of course a huge weight lifted off her shoulders, but paradoxically it also allows her to let her guard down a little (let the adrenaline come down), and that's when the nightmares come crashing. i think she only get them then because it's the end of war-mode and the start of healing-mode.

.

anyway anon, thanks again for your kind words, i'm so glad you enjoy my writing, and my apologies for taking advantage of your message to rant about Stuff. i hope you have a wonderful day ❤️

[lazuli-writes]

The Vanishing Intro I

a/n: I got the inspo for such a incident from the “Dark Curse” of abc’s Once Upon a Time and the “Blip” from the Marvel cinematic universe. I do not own Harry Potter and the characters, all rights go to JKR and Warner Bros. Pictures. Only the non-canonical plot was my idea. I also do not agree with any and all prejudiced remarks formulated by JKR in concern of their transphobia. Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

©little-lazuli. Do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

Summary: Under the threat of defeat, the supporters of the dark lord cast a curse that banishes half of the Wizarding population of the British Isles. No knows where they had gone or how they vanished. But twenty-one years later, the vanished make their return, and the Wizarding world they once knew is no longer the same.

Listed institutions are referenced with information as of 2019

The Stranded: The Stranded were thirty-five of the most recognized witches and wizards in the British isles to not be Vanished. It was this collection of witches and wizards that oversaw the reconstruction of the Magical community of the British Isles. They include:

Bathsheda Babbling, Susan Bones, Lavender Brown, Flora Carrow, Colin Creevey, Dennis Creevey, Roger Davies, Tracey Davis, Astoria Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, Hestia Jones, Lee Jordan, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Ernest Macmillan, Draco Malfoy, Minerva McGonagall, Cormac McLaggen, Graham Montague, Theodore Nott, Garrick Olivander, Pansy Parkinson, Padma Patil, Sturgis Podmore, Poppy Pomfrey, Muriel Prewett, Adrian Pucey, Aurora Sinistra, Alicia Spinnet, Dean Thomas, Edward Tonks, Nyphadora Tonks, Romilda Vane, Ronald Weasley, Oliver Wood

•••

The Impurities: The last bastion of the Dark Lord’s reign, the Impurities were the remaining death eaters following the Vanishing, and were blamed for causing the British Magical Purge of the 2000s. They include:

Bellatrix Lestrange, Thorfinn Rowle, Corban Yaxley, Amycus Carrow, Aurelius Nott, Terminus Travers, Walden Macnair

•••

The British Conclave of Magic: The Conclave is the successor of the British Ministry of Magic, and serves as the formal government for the magical species of the British Isles. Closer in resemblance to the Wizard’s Council of old Britain and MACUSA, the Conclave still holds many roots in the British Ministry of Magic. The reformation of the Ministry into the Conclave was a direct result of the British Magical Purge that took place from the years 2000 to 2004.

The current regime of the Conclave is as follows:

British Premier of Magic: Susan Bones (2009-Present)

House of Nobles: Members of this house aid in the advisement of the Premier. Acting as a vice power should the Premier become incapacitated. These members are elected tri-annually by the those in the House of Inquest. They also serve as judges and vote in any high profile criminal trials.

Incumbent House Nobles: Flora Carrow, Fergus Finnigan, Roger Davies, Nymphadora Lupin, Ernest Macmillan, Draco Malfoy, Cormac McLaggen, Graham Montague, Theodore Nott, Mafalda Prewett, Adrian Pucey, Rolf Scammander, Ronald Weasley & Romilda Vane

House of Inquest: The successor of the Wizengamot, all fifty-three members of this house are voted on by the wizarding populace of the isles. The higher the concentration of magical folk in an area, the more seats in the house the area maintains. E.g. Hogsmeade and Cokesworth, being the two largest Wizarding settlements in the isles with sixteen and eleven seats respectively. The house is headed by the Orator, who represents, leads and dictates the decorum of the house in all meetings.

Incumbent Orator of the House: Lord Dennis Prewett, née Creevey.

Department of Magical Law Enforcement: (DMLE) Responsible for upholding the laws set forth by the Conclave. The largest of the departments and all other departments were answerable to this one; the Department of Mysteries were the only exception in certain cases.

Incumbent High Enchantress: Lady Daphne Greengrass

Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes: (DMAC) Tasked with the prevention, containment and/or reversal of magical mishaps. It’s main goals currently are protecting the Statute of Secrecy and preventing all muggle interference in the magical community.

Incumbent High Warlock: Roger Davies

Department of International Magical Relations: (DIMR) Serving as the communication between the British Conclave and other magical governments around the world, this department currently focuses on repairing the relationship between Magical Britain and their neighbors in France, Germany and the Nordic Ministries.

Incumbent High Warlock: Lord Theodore Nott

Department for Regulation of Magical Creatures: (DRMC) Dedicated to the restoration, protection and maintaining cooperation amongst the many different magical beings, beasts and spirits of Magical Britain. They work alongside magizoologists and the DMLE to better protect and incorporate the magical species in the British Isles.

Incumbent High Warlock: Rolf Scammander

Department of Magical Transportation: (DMT) In charge of the regulation of transportation services of wizarding Britain. The department became highly regarded following the brief establishment of Rappaport’s Law, because safe transport in and out of the isles became almost impossible during the Purge. Now however, the mass production and regulation of advanced Vanishing Cabinets, and enchanted automobiles have become the new tools of transport.

Incumbent High Enchantress: Romilda Vane

Department of Magical Entertainment: (DME) In control of the proper operation, funding and safe establishment of entertainment sources and events—such as national and international Magical Sports (Quidditch, Wizarding Hockey, Quadpot etc etc.), Magical Cinemas/Theatres and the Magical Music scene. The department rose in popularity following the recognized end of the Purge in the year of 2005, when the Weasley family opened the very first Magical Cinema in Ottery St. Catchpole.

Incumbent High Warlock: Cormac McLaggen

Department of Mysteries: (DMY) The most secretive department, they are dedicated to the gathering of confidential research in the name of furthering the understanding magic. They are the only department not subjected to complete obeisance to the DMLE.

Incumbent Head Unspeakable: Lady Tracey Nott, née Davis

Hogwarts Board of Governors: A group of thirteen wizards and witches that oversaw the maintenance and running of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They held the power to dictate the curriculum and every day operation of the school.

Incumbent Chairman: Lord Draco Malfoy

•••

British Magical Purge of the 2000s: Commonly referred to as the Great Purge or simply the Purge, the British Magical Purge was a mass witch hunt for witches, wizards and other magical species within Britain by covert sects of the British Muggle Government between 2000-2004.

The hunts were believed to be a retaliatory act by the muggles following the final battle between the Order of the Phoenix and the Impurities; Known by magic-kind as the Battle for London, the battle took place within the old Ministry of Magic, upon the streets of Muggle London as well as in the skies above the city. As her final act of terrorism, Bellatrix Lestrange flooded the Thames river. The sudden flood had already drowned at least two-thousand muggles by the time the order had managed to undo the flood.

The muggle reaction to the flood saw associates of the incumbent Muggle Prime Minister, who secretly knew of Magic, hire mercenaries to begin the Purge: this led to a large scale series of witch hunts and magical massacres, unseen since the time of Salem.

The Purge saw numerous witches, wizards and other beings such as werewolves, vampires, squibs, muggles who married into the magical community, hags, centaurs, merlings, goblins and house elves persecuted, captured and murdered.

In response, the British Conclave was formed out of the ruins of the Ministry. Efforts to maintain the Statute of Secrecy as well as sustaining the already diminished, magical population, the Conclave temporarily adopted the American made “Rappaport’s Law” (an era colloquially called “Rappaport’s Reign). The swift segregation of magical folk from the muggles, and harsh operations of oblivation to those within muggle governments, resulted in a slow, but eventual return of peace within the British magical community.

•••

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: The primary source of education for British wizarding youth, Hogwarts serves as a strong bastion of peace and protection for the future wizarding generations.

Current staff is as follows:

Bathsheda Babbling: Ancient Runes

Cuthburt Binns: History of Magic

Colin Lovegood: Head of Gryffindor House, Charms & Enchanted Items

Dean Thomas: Matron

Gabrielle Delacour: Foreign Magical Studies

Kreacher the House Elf: Caretaker & Head Elf

Firenze: Astronomy & Divination

Neville Longbottom: Headmaster

Pansy Longbottom: Head of Slytherin House, Defensive Magic Studies

Ernest Macmillan: Potions & Alchemy

Padma Patil: Head of Ravenclaw House, Transfiguration & Dueling Club Head

Sturgis Podmore: Magizoology

Alicia Spinnet: Herbology & Quidditch Pitch Moderator

Edward Tonks: Head of Hufflepuff House, Muggle Studies

•••

The Seven Swords of Britain: A term coined by Witch Weekly’s Editor in chief, Lavender Brown, the Seven Swords of Britain are—in accordance to numerous public polls and interviews—the current, seven most influential and prominent wizarding families within the isles.

The recognized families are:

The Esteemed House of Carrow: Headed by Flora Carrow, Flora Carrow is the largest trader of magical foreign goods and a philanthropist, who aided in the refugee crisis following the Calamity of Diagon Alley in 2001. She became the head of her family following the death of her uncle, Amycus Carrow—known Death Eater and Impurity.

Commonly associates with Houses Malfoy and Nott. Though keeps a precarious relationship with other families such as the Montagues and McLaggens.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom: A revered member of Dumbledore’s Army and the Order of the Phoenix, Lord Neville Longbottom serves as the current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Through his inheritance as the sole Longbottom heir and his scandalous marriage to Pansy Parkinson, the Longbottoms holds one of the largest wealths in Great Britain. Wealth, that they have been known to spend readily on Hogwarts and numerous charities.

Commonly associates with Houses Lovegood, Macmillan, Parkinson, Patil, Tonks and Weasley. Also viewed as the peacemakers between the feuding Notts & Weasleys.

The Honourable House of Lovegood: Presumed the youngest of the revered families, Luna Lovegood is a well known household name. Current proprietor of the Quibbler—the largest source of news in all of magical Britain and the Lovegood Magical Sanctuary, located on the once disdained isle of Drear. Luna Lovegood married Colin Creevey in 2003. Whereas Luna continues to serve as a magizoologist and newspaper owner, her husband currently works as a professor at Hogwarts.

Commonly associates with the Houses Longbottom and Weasley; as well as the Bones, Creevey, Goldstein and Scammander families. Currently bonded in marriege to House Prewett through her husband’s brother.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy: Initially pushed to the outskirts of society following their known patronage of Voldemort, Draco Malfoy returned the honour of his family following his efforts in the defense of Diagon Alley during its Calamity. The Malfoy’s are also recognized as a large benefactor to Sinestra’s Sanatorium for Magical Maladies.

Commonly associates with Houses Carrow, Greengrass and Weasley. Bonded in marriage to the Weasleys through the Greengrass sisters, their relationship is cordial at best.

The Honourable House of McLaggen: Cormac McLaggen is fatefully remembered for his efforts in maintaining the Statute of Secrecy through numerous Obliviation Operations in 2002-2006. Though not as wealthy as the Malfoys, Notts or Weasleys, the McLaggen’s wealth is enough to shoulder the funding for his current office as head of the Department of Magical Entertainments: Sports, Cinemas and Music.

Commonly associates with the Davies, Brown and Wood families. Also, highly supports the Notts when in opposition to the Weasley-Greengrass-Malfoy political block.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Nott: Lord Theodore Nott and Lady Tracey Nott née Davis are respected as two of the most prominent members of the Conclave—Lord Theodore serving as High Warlock of the Conclave’s Department of International Magical Relations and Lady Tracey as the head Unspeakable for the British Department of Mysteries. The Nott family are also referred to by the epithet “The Lords of Trent” due to their ownership of a large fraction of land near Nottingham.

Commonly associates with the House of Carrow and freely indulges with other families such as Davies, Brown, Macmillan, Montague, Pucey, and Vane.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Weasley: Perhaps the most desirable of families, Lord Ronald Weasley is most fantastically recognized for bringing a formal end of the Second Wizarding War after he successfully dueled and defeated Bellatrix Lestrange and the Impurities in the Battle for London. Through his marriage to Daphne Greengrass, his acquisition of the Black and Prewett family fortunes, and his successful production of a philosopher’s stone, Lord Ronald had become a large benefactor for the reconstruction of Magical Britain as a whole.

Commonly associates with Houses Longbottom and Lovegood. Hold close ties to families such the Bones, Delacours, Jordans, Spinnets, Thomas, Tonks and Woods. Tied by blood to the Houses of Black and Prewett and bonded in marriage to Houses Greengrass, Malfoy and the Creevey Family—an by extension, the Lovegoods as well.

•••

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Weasley:

— Lord Ronald “Ron” Weasley; sixth son of the vanished Arthur Weasley & Molly Weasley née Prewett. Born March 1st, 1980. Current head of the House of Weasley, resides at his home of the Warren, on Stoadshead Hill, Ottery St. Catchpole, England. Recognized for his efforts in the Second Wizarding War against Lord Voldemort, defeating Bellatrix Lestrange in the Battle for London and his continued relief and philanthropic efforts throughout the British Magical Purge 2000-2004. Careers includes being a fellow member of the House of Nobles, former Hit-Wizard for the British Conclave of Magic, former steward for the Noble and Most Ancient Houses of Black & Prewett, renowned Alchemist & possessor of a philosopher’s stone, proprietor of the following: Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes (WWW) & the Chudley Cannons Quidditch Team, co-proprietor for Dame’s Wizarding Bank and known benefactor to the Lovegood Magical Sanctuary and Sinestra’s Sanatorium for Magical Maladies.

—— Lady Daphne Greengrass; wife to Ronald Weasley. Eldest daughter of the late Lord Cassius Greengrass and Lady Bianca Greengrass née Este. Born May 19, 1980. Current head of the House of Greengrass, and consort of the House of Weasley. A revered and cherished witch of her generation, and known for relief efforts throughout the British Magical Purge, she once served as a Hit-Wizard and was part of the Muggle Obliviation Squad (2003-2007). Proprietor of Greengrass Solutions—largest domestic farmer/supplier for British apothecaries since 1514. Current member of the House of Inquest and serves as High Enchantress of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE).

——— Celia Greengrass; first child of Lord Ronald Weasley and Lady Daphne Greengrass. Born June 21st, 2003. The eldest of Ronald’s and Daphne’s triplets, she was named the heiress to the House of Greengrass. She was sorted into Slytherin House and is a proficient potionneer.

——— Serena Weasley; second child of Lord Ronald Weasley and Lady Daphne Greengrass. Born June 21st, 2003. The middle child of the triplets, she was sorted into Ravenclaw House and has deep love for music and aspires to become a musician.

——— Septimus Weasley; third child of Lord Ronald Weasley and Lady Daphne Greengrass. Born June 21st, 2003. The youngest of the triplets as well as Ronald’s and Daphne’s only son, he is set to inherit the Weasley family fortune. He was sorted into Hufflepuff House and is excellent with enchanting items.

——— Clarissa Weasley; the fourth and youngest child of Lord Ronald Weasley and Lady Daphne Greengrass. Born March 1st, 2015. Has deep desires to be a professional dueler.

Relatives:

Lady Muriel Prewett {Deceased}; the former head of the House of Prewett, maternal Great-Great Grand aunt to Lord Ronald. She informally adopted him as her own following the Vanishing, which took his parents, siblings and closest friends.

Alexander Prewett {Deceased}; the secret love child of a young Lady Muriel and Corban Yaxley Sr., he was born a squib and left for America following his disownment. He would later return with his muggle wife and witch daughter Mafalda during the British Magical Purge.

Lady Mafalda Prewett; current Head of the House of Prewett, she was mentored and tutored by Lord Ronald, and became a pseudo sibling for him. She currently serves in the House of Nobles for the British Conclave of Magic, and is the founder and co-proprietor of Dame’s Wizarding Bank—the only bank for Wizarding Britain following Gringotts destruction in the Calamity of Diagon Alley.

Lord Dennis Prewett née Creevey; Lord consort to the House of Prewett, one of the highest stationed muggleborn wizards in the Conclave. Currently serves as Orator for the House of Inquest in the Conclave. He is the younger brother to Colin Lovegood née Creevey.

Alexandra Prewett; current heir and only child of Lady Mafalda and Lord Dennis. Close in age and confidante of her cousin Clarissa Weasley.

Lady Andromeda Tonks née Black {Deceased}; Related through Lord Ronald’s paternal grandmother—Cedrella Weasley née Black—Andromeda was a close friend and supporter. As one of the last potential heirs to the Black Family Fortune, she naturally held influence over much of the older generations of stranded wizardkind. She initially survived the Vanishing but was later murdered by her sister Bellatrix Lestrange during the Impurity’s Rampage of 1999.

Edward Tonks; Widower of the late Lady Andromeda, he was saved from his imprisonment at Malfoy Manor by Draco Malfoy, who defected to the Order of the Phoenix. He would later work with the Conclave and the Order to protect the persecuted Muggleborns during the purge on magic. He currently serves as the Head of Hufflepuff House, as well as the Muggle Studies Professor

Nymphadora Lupin née Tonks; Widowed due to her husband’s—Remus Lupin—vanishing, Nymphadora eventually halted her auror career in favor of a relaxed term as a member of the House of Nobles. Following Lord Ronald’s acquisition of the Black Family Fortune, he intended to grant the entirety to the Tonks-Lupin family, but Nymphadora refused, instead gifting half to her son and the other to Lord Ronald. She, along with her father and son reside as the owners and keepers of 12 Grimmauld Place, the ancestral seat of the former House of Black.

Edward Lupin; son to Nymphadora Lupin née Tonks and the vanished Remus Lupin. A known metamorphmagus like his mother, he is currently slated to inherit the remaining half of the Black family fortune.

Lord Draco Malfoy; also a member of the House of Black maternally, Lord Draco and Lord Ronald’s relationship is mostly held up by their wives being loving sisters—and all wizards know not to anger their spouse. He currently serves in the Conclave as a member of the House of Nobles, as well as the Chairman of the Reformed Board of Governors for Hogwarts.

Lady Astoria Malfoy née Greengrass; the younger sister to Daphne Greengrass, Lady Astoria holds a great relationship with her sister and can typically handle the bickering her husband and brother in law indulge in. She works as the General Manager of Greengrass Solutions, the factory and farm owned by the Greengrass family for more than five centuries.

Scorpius Malfoy; current heir and only son of Lord Draco and Lady Astoria. He looks up to his Greengrass-Weasley cousins.

Lyra Malfoy; youngest child and only daughter of Lord Draco and Lady Astoria, she is close in age to Clarissa Weasley and one of her closest confidantes.

[tnott]

[ Detention || Open ]

seventh year

Detention.

It was the last word any student wanted to hear on Alecto Carrow’s lips. Gone were the days of scrubbing bedpans or copying lines; this was the Dark Lord’s Hogwarts now, and the Carrows had replaced the old punishments with a full range of horrors. Beatings. Imprisonment. Torture, both magical and mundane. Detention was to be avoided at all costs.

But detention was exactly what Theo had heard when she’d gone to her mandatory Muggle Studies lesson that morning.

Miss Nott, Alecto Carrow had said, causing Theo to freeze in the doorway. I see you’ve decided to join us.

It was true that Theo had missed more than a few of Alecto Carrow’s classes. There was only so much blatant propaganda that she could sit through without wanting to vomit, and she was a quiet enough student that she’d figured she wouldn’t be missed – or if she was, that her assumed loyalty to the Dark Lord’s cause would protect her from any severe punishment.

She’d been wrong.

Detention, Miss Nott, Alecto had said. My brother will see to it. And if you choose to skip another one of my classes…well. Perhaps someone will have to have a talk with your father.

Already terrified by Alecto’s order, the veiled threat against Leontius Nott had sent Theo into a silent panic. After his failure at the Department of Mysteries, Theo’s father was already in precarious standing with the Dark Lord. If it seemed that his daughter was rebelling against the regime, he would almost certainly be punished.

White-faced and trembling, she’d sunken into her seat, trying to ignore the stares of her classmates. Several of her fellow Slytherins looked shocked and frightened. Thus far the Carrows had avoided punishing the children of the Dark Lord’s inner circle. But no longer; it seemed Alecto Carrow wanted to make an example, and she’d chosen Theo as her victim.

Not a single word of the lesson had penetrated her ears. She’d been too caught up in her dread of what would happen to her. Her next lesson was Amycus Carrow’s Dark Arts class. Would he make her one of his subjects?

She’d been shaking like an aspic by the time she’d arrived in the classroom, the other students still looking at her sidelong, some of them keeping themselves far away, as though her punishment might be contagious.

Within minutes, Theo’s fears were realized. Amycus Carrow had called her and Vincent Crabbe to the front of the room. And then Vincent – Vincent, whom she’d known since she was four years old – had lifted his wand, and her blood had boiled in her veins, and she had found herself wishing desperately for death to claim her instead.

One by one, her classmates had repeated the Cruciatus Curse, some with more enthusiasm than others, until Theo was left crumpled on the floor, gasping for breath as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Now she was deep in the dungeons, collapsed on a stone bench near a moldering tapestry of Baba Yaga’s hut, sobbing uncontrollably and hoping against hope that none of the Carrows’ spies among the student body would find her here.

[coeurxdor]

me going through all my messy hcs for the marauders era trying to compile them into a somewhat coherent document: damn i am SO valid

[thatsassyhufflepuff]

Stronger Than Blood Chapter 27: Felicity

Summary: Hufflepuff witch Felicity Zabini struggles to find normalcy as she enters into her 6th year at Hogwarts, reeling from her father’s sudden death and her mother’s quick remarriage into the Zabini family. If only she had known that discovering Draco Malfoy falling apart in the bathroom would spiral into so much more.

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: fluff, angst, Cruciatus curse, language, humor (?)

Ao3

Clichés had never appealed to me, but I also knew that they had an uncanny way of revealing the truth. To say that my world wasn’t the same in the wake of Draco’s absence wasn’t an overstatement.

More often than not, we had spent everyday together. We studied, laughed, held each other close after a particularly hard day. Draco took me out during Hogsmeade weekends, never as affectionate as he was when we were alone, of course, but still somehow possessive in the way his hand ghosted over the small of my back as we entered unfamiliar areas.

His presence was such a constant in my life that I could only truly appreciate it when he was gone. But he wasn’t gone. Not really.

My heart physically ached as I sat down beside Blaise in Defense Against the Dark Arts, an ache that only increased when Draco entered the classroom. Our eyes met. His expression was mostly unreadable, but I saw the imperceptible way his eyes softened as they landed on me. He arched an eyebrow, his silent way of asking me if I was okay. I nodded once. My boyfriend’s eyes traveled to my neck, where the Malfoy family ring dangled around my neck, resting over my heart under my robes. I nodded again, my lips quirking. His lips curved upwards as he looked away from me, taking his seat.

Professor Amycus swept into the room soon afterwards, his black robes billowing behind him.

“Hello, children.” He smiled at us, and I studied him closer than I had before. The wizard didn’t appear to be any different, though I knew now that he had a Mark that looked just like Draco’s on his left forearm. “Today’s lesson is of the utmost importance.” He glanced around the room, pausing on each of our faces. “Who can tell me what it means to be a Muggleborn?”

No one raised their hand. Blaise shifted in his seat next to me.

“Miss Zabini?” I froze when Professor Amycus looked at me. “Enlighten us.”

I cleared my throat. “If a witch or wizard is Muggleborn, magic doesn’t run in their family. Both parents are Muggles.”

“Ten points to Hufflepuff.” He clasped his hands in front of him. “And why is this a problem?”

“Sorry?”

The professor crossed the room to stand in front of my desk. “Why is being Muggleborn problematic?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Draco’s lazy drawl stopped me.

“Because magic is a birthright that they did not earn.” His gray eyes met mine, and he mouthed just playing along before Professor Amycus looked his way.

“Quite right, Mr. Malfoy. Ten points to Slytherin.” The professor began to pace the length of the classroom. “Muggleborns are a threat to our world. They taint our bloodlines and weaken our magic over time.” He stopped. “Yes, very grievous indeed.”

The bell rang before he could go on. I let out a shaky breath as I stood, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

“What in the world was that?” I whispered to Blaise as soon as we were in the hallway. He grimaced.

“Propaganda. And I’m afraid…” The Slytherin took a deep breath. “I’m afraid that this is just the beginning of it.”

***

Blaise had been right about that. It seemed as if every professor incorporated anti-Muggle jargon into their lectures. I couldn’t go anywhere without seeing posters advertising the horrors of Muggle society. My only escape proved to be the library, where I poured over my lessons, did any extra work that I could to distract myself from missing Draco. Months went by, but they felt like years. I hardly saw Draco anymore.

I rubbed my temples as I sat at a table nestled within a hidden corner of the library. No one ventured that far into the library, so I was often alone in my own little world. Every now and then Luna Lovegood, a 7th year Ravenclaw, would sit at the table next to mine, but she was always alone and never a bother.

I was just beginning an essay for Muggle Studies when a new voice interrupted my routine.

“Are you Felicity Zabini?”

When I looked up my eyes were met with a petite witch in Slytherin robes. Her hair was a luscious, icy shade of blonde, framing her face in gentle waves that stopped just past her shoulders. Her eyes were chocolate brown, friendly yet guarded. She was effortlessly beautiful in a way that was taught, practiced, and mastered, in a way that I never had been and wasn’t sure I wanted to be.

“That’s me.” I gave her a tiny smile. She beamed back at me.

“I’m Astoria Greengrass, Draco’s intended. It’s nice to meet you!”

Draco’s intended. I gripped the edges of the table, my head suddenly spinning.

“It’s…” I swallowed against the nausea. “It’s nice to meet you, Astoria.”

If I wanted Narcissa’s plan to work, I had to play my part. For all Astoria knew, Draco and I were broken up. Pain shot through me, but I shoved it down.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Astoria asked.

“Go ahead,” I gestured towards the empty seats. The blonde plopped down into the one right across from me.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you. It’s just…” she sighed. “Well, and this is terribly awkward, I know, but I was wondering if you’d be willing to help me plan the wedding? You know what Draco likes. You dated him for the longest out of all the girls he’s been with, did you know that?”

“Yeah. Almost seven months.” I said, my voice little more than a whisper. Astoria’s expression softened with sympathy.

“I’m sorry if this brings up any unpleasant memories for you. Did you part on good terms?”

I was prepared for this question, thankfully.

“It was a mutual decision.” The lie made my throat ache.

I suppose it had been mutual in a sense, but neither of us wanted to break up. We just recognized the genius of Narcissa’s plan. All I could do was play my role and hope for the best.

“So you two are still friends?” Astoria’s eyes were so earnest and open that it made me want to cry. It would’ve been easier if Draco’s intended bride was hateful, but she wasn’t. I could tell that much.

“We’ve...it’s just been a bit busy, preparing for the N.E.W.T.s…” The lump in my throat grew. “I haven’t seen much of him. But yes, we’re still...friends.”

“Good.” Astoria’s expression brightened. “Let’s talk about the wedding, then.”

***

Astoria Greengrass was far from hateful. She was kind, intelligent, and thoughtful. More than that, she quickly became my friend. The irony of it all made me want to laugh, or maybe cry. Some days, in the privacy of my dorm late at night, I did both.

“Liss?” she asked from her sprawled out position on the plush carpet in my dorm. I looked up from my Potions assignment.

“Hmm?”

“Dancing or no dancing at the wedding?”

“Definitely dancing.” My lips curved up slightly as my mind drifted into a memory.

“Felicity,” Draco snorted, swinging his legs on the ledge of the Astronomy Tower. I’d forced him to cast a protective barrier charm around the area so he wouldn’t fall to his death.  “You can’t just refuse to dance with someone at the next Malfoy family Christmas Ball. It’s horribly impolite.”

“I can barely walk in a straight line without tripping over something!” I protested. “How do you expect me to dance with all of the posh wizards who attend your hoity toity events?”

He scowled. “I never said anything about letting you dance with other wizards.”

“Afraid I’ll leave you when they sweep me off of my feet onto the dance floor?” I teased with a wide grin. The poor dear actually growled.

“The only wizard who will be sweeping you anywhere is me.”

I sighed. “I really can’t dance, Draco. I’ve tried to learn. It’s no use.”

Draco frowned. “You’ve had actual lessons and you’re still incompetent?”

“Well,” I hedged. “Does Blaise attempting to teach me the steps count as lessons?”

“Merlin’s beard, witch! Get up.” He held out his hand to me as he scrambled to his feet.

“Is that a no, then?”

“Just get up!”

“Right away, Your Majesty.” I let him pull me to my feet. Draco smirked as he tugged me closer to him.

“I could get used to royal treatment,” he said.

“You don’t receive royal treatment now? I’m shocked, truly.”

The Slytherin laughed, placing a hand at my hip while gripping my right hand with the other. “Put your left hand on my shoulder.”

“Do I have a choice?” I asked with a pout. Draco leaned down to press a quick kiss to my lips.

“No.”

I rolled my eyes but slid my left hand up to rest on his shoulder. He began to sway me back and forth in a waltz.

“There’s no music,” I pointed out. Draco smiled before spinning me out and tugging me back into his chest, so close that we were nose to nose.

“I was getting there.” He whispered, his breath warm on my lips as his hand found the small of my back, still swaying me. I shivered when he began to sing in my ear.

“Some day, when I’m awfully low

When the world is cold

I will feel a glow just thinking of you

And the way you look tonight…”

“I didn’t know you could sing,” I murmured, my heart fluttering. I wrapped a hand around the back of his neck as we swayed.

Draco’s breath tickled my ear as he chuckled lowly. “What can I say, I’m a man of many talents.” He kissed the sensitive flesh below my ear before singing once more.

“Yes, you’re lovely, with your smile so warm

And your cheeks so soft

There is nothing for me but to love you

And the way you look tonight.”

My heart hammered inside of my chest. I wondered if he realized what the song was saying, if he meant the words he sang so beautifully into my ear.

“This is a Muggle song, you know.” It was all I could manage to say.

He held me tighter. “I know.”

I closed my eyes, burying my face into the crook of Draco’s neck as he continued to croon softly against my skin.

“With each word your tenderness grows,

Tearing my fear apart

And that laugh that wrinkles your nose,

It touches my foolish heart…”

“Felicity?” Astoria’s gentle voice broke me out of the memory. “Are you okay?”

It took me a minute to realize that my cheeks were wet with tears. I swiped at my cheeks quickly.

“I’m fine.”

One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do was act like my heart was whole when it was anything but.

***

“I’m sure you are all able to name the three Unforgivable Curses by now.” Professor Amycus was saying one day in Defence class. “Miss Zabini? Please inform us.”

I didn’t want to dwell on reasons why he could be calling on me as much as he did, so I focused on my answer instead. “Yes, professor. They are the Killing Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, and the Imperius Curse.”

“Quite right. Why do you think they are named as such?”

I lowered my eyebrows. “One is used to commit murder, the other to torture someone horrifically, and the other to control a person’s mind. Why wouldn’t they be Unforgivable?”

The professor’s lip curled as he studied me. “In hindsight, I suppose it was rather foolish of me to ask such a question of a Hufflepuff,” he sneered.

I gave a derisive snort. “Why, because Hufflepuffs have a good heart?”

Professor Amycus’s face flushed with anger when most of the class chuckled. “No, Miss Zabini, because the lot of you have no sense of true justice.” His eyes glinted coldly. “But since you are so vocal on this subject, you can assist me in my next demonstration.” He motioned for me to stand up. I obeyed, standing up warily.

“You wanted to see me, Professor?”

I turned as Teddy Lafayette entered the room, looking so small as his green gaze found mine. Dread began to creep up my spine.

“Felicity?” His eyebrows furrowed. “If this is about the incident in the bathroom, I swear it was Bobby who made the toilet explode!”

“We’ll talk about it later, yeah?” I reached out a hand for him, though I had to wonder about the exploding toilet. I was surprised when he came willingly, but then again, I could understand the mistrustful look in his eyes as he glanced at Professor Amycus. “What’s this about?” I addressed the professor, placing a firm hand on Teddy’s shoulder.

“Thank you for joining us, Mr. Lafayette.” Amycus ignored me completely. “I just have a few questions for you, then you may leave.” It was a lie. I don’t know how I knew. Perhaps it was the way he said it, maybe it was the way my stomach curdled. All I knew was that something was very wrong.

“Okay,” Teddy replied slowly, shifting a bit closer to me. Amycus smiled.

“This is your second year, is it not?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And how are you enjoying yourself?” Amycus continued. “Has Miss Zabini been accommodating as one of your Prefects?”

My heart expanded at Teddy’s eager nod. “She’s the best! Sometimes she’s scary and reminds me of my mum, but everyone prefers her over Ernie. She gives us sweets and he doesn’t.”

The class laughed at that, even Ernie, who was seated behind Blaise and I next to Hannah, though he mumbled, “Bloody typical.”

“I see.” Amycus said. “Well, it’s funny you should mention Miss Zabini’s scariness, as I find her to be anything but... scary.”

“You haven’t seen her when it’s almost curfew and I barely make it back to the common room in time for bed,” Teddy mumbled, making me snort. Blaise snickered as well.

“Formidable, is she?” The professor looked like he was having serious doubts about that, but then his expression changed. “You mentioned your mum. What does she do while you’re away at Hogwarts?”

The young Hufflepuff boy stood straighter. “She’s a doctor. My dad too.”

“A doctor?” Professor Amycus gave a short laugh, as if Teddy told a clever joke. “Do you mean to say that your parents are Healers?”

I almost laughed at the disgusted look Teddy gave the professor. “No, they’re doctors.They help women deliver babies.” He scrunched his nose at that.

“Ah...so your parents are Muggles, then.” Amycus wasn't smiling now. His tone was so cold that my hand on Teddy’s shoulder tightened.

“What of it?” To his credit, Teddy didn’t look at all afraid, though he stayed close to my side.

“I’m so glad you asked,” Professor Amycus replied, smiling slowly. “You see, Teddy—may I call you Teddy?”

“No, you may not,” Teddy interjected, his voice filled with so much haughtiness that he reminded me of Draco at his pettiest in that moment, but the professor ignored him.

“You see, Teddy, the Ministry of Magic is under new leadership. We wish to set things right.”

The curly-haired boy looked up at me, his green eyes filled with confusion. Amycus’s eyes were focused on me. “As I told your beloved Prefect just before you arrived, Hogwarts seems to have lost its sense of true justice. But no longer.”

Fear spiked in my bloodstream at the vicious glint in his eyes. “The Ministry has developed  an...alternate version of the Cruciatus Curse. Not to worry, you won’t be sent to Azkaban for using it. It’s been altered to cause much less pain than it usually does. Just enough pain to leave an impression.” He clasped his hands. “I thought it would be a comfort to you, Miss Zabini.”

“A comfort?” I asked, my heart thumping hard.

“Well, if you’re to use it on Mr. Lafayette, I assumed you’d be pleased to know that you won’t hurt him too badly.” Amycus’s eyes widened with faux innocence. “Perhaps I was mistaken?”

I wrapped a protective arm around Teddy’s shoulders. “Surely you don’t mean…” My free hand gripped the edge of my desk. Surely he wouldn’t ask me to hurt a student. That couldn’t be allowed.

“Yes, Miss Zabini.” Amycus folded his arms. “Since you’re so averse to these things, I believe it’s time for you to…adjust.” He demonstrated a quick movement with his wand. “If you move your wand just so, the alternate version of the Curse can be performed. Go on.” He nodded at Teddy.

“Felicity?” Teddy’s eyes were wide and frightened. My hands began to shake.

“You can’t ask me to--”

“I can and I will,” Amycus snapped. “Now, Miss Zabini. Do not test my patience. The sooner we send the Mudbloods the message the better.”

I caught my trembling lower lip between my teeth, maneuvering Teddy so he was shielded behind me.

“No.” I whispered. “I won’t.”

“Very well. Stand aside and I will do it for you.” Amycus snarled, moving to shove me out of the way, but I pushed back with every ounce of strength I possessed, tears blurring my vision.

“No!” I cried. “Teddy, go back to the common room.” When the boy didn’t move, I repeated myself more firmly. “Now, Teddy.”

Teddy wasted no time in darting out from his hiding place and running out of the room before Amycus could stop him.

A storm raged in the professor's eyes as he studied me anew.

“How noble of you.” He said. “But I’m sorry to say that your heroic deed is in vain.” Amycus glanced around the classroom. “There are other Mudbloods in this class, I’m sure…”

“Stop it!” Tears slipped down my cheeks, but I brushed them away. “Don’t hurt them. I’ll—you can do it on me. But don’t touch any of them.” I clenched my fists.

“Felicity,” Blaise hissed, but I ignored him.

“Professor,” I jumped when I heard Draco’s voice for the first time since class had started. My eyes found him immediately. He looked away from me. “Surely Lafayette can come back later. The mutt isn’t worth it. It’s so much more satisfying to torture full Mudbloods anyway, is it not?” I hoped his fellow Death Eater didn’t know him well enough to hear the slight edge of panic in his voice.

Amycus hummed in thought. “Excellent point, Draco. But no,” he decided. “The punishment is fitting. Besides,” he turned back to me, yanking me by the sleeve and pulling me until I was standing at the front of the room facing my classmates. “She did volunteer.”

Draco’s face looked like chiseled marble as he nodded once.

Though I braced myself as Amycus drew his wand, nothing could have prepared me for the excruciating pain that was to follow.

“Crucio.”

A scream I hardly recognized as my own was ripped from my throat as I fell to the ground, writhing with pain. Suddenly that’s all I knew. I forgot where I was, forgot who I was. All that existed was the pain as my world quickly faded to black, the unconsciousness a sweet relief.

***

I woke to a low murmur of voices and the feeling of a hand gripping my own briefly before letting it go. My head hurt too much to open my eyes, so I tried to focus on the voices instead.

“What on Earth was she thinking?”

Blaise, I thought. A very angry Blaise from the sound of it.

“This is Felicity we’re talking about, mate! Do you really think she’d let her bloody housemate be tortured if she could stop it?”

My heart jumped. Draco. Merlin, how I missed hearing his voice. I wished he wouldn’t stop talking.

“Of course she wouldn’t,” Blaise snapped. “That’s the problem.”

“Why in the blazes are you angry with me, then?”

“Because she’s your bloody girlfriend,you twisted bastard! You should have stopped her! It should have been you lying unconscious for three bloody days! Not her!”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Draco’s voice cracked with emotion. “You don’t understand…”

“What could I possibly not understand about this situation, Malfoy?”

Draco sighed. “I...I can’t tell you.”

Blaise snorted derisively. “Bloody typical. My sister is unconscious and you can’t tell me anything at all?”

Deciding that I needed to “wake up” before things got out of hand, I opened my eyes, wincing against the candlelight.

“Dr…” I coughed. “Drac…” I could only manage that before I coughed harder

“Felicity?” The blonde Slytherin hurried to my side, cupping my cheeks in the palms of his hands. “Thank Merlin you’re awake. What is it? What hurts?” His gray eyes were wide with concern and relief.

“Need…” I wet my lips as best as I could. “Drink.”

He brushed a damp strand of hair off of my forehead before pressing a delicate kiss there. “Blaise,” Draco snapped over his shoulder. “She needs water. Now.”

“Anything else I can do for you?” My brother grumbled as he poured me a glass of water, approaching my bedside. His eyes softened as they focused on me. “Hey, Lissie. Good to see your eyes open.”

“Don’t make her talk too much,” Draco glared at Blaise with such resentment that the gentleness in the way he helped me sit up and take a drink of water was almost comical. I gave Blaise a weak smile once I drained the cup of water.

“Teddy?” I croaked. “Is he…”

“He’s fine,” Blaise promised. “Left you flowers and everything, much to this one’s delight.” He smirked at Draco as he gestured to the pretty pink roses in the corner.

“Bloody twelve year old,” Draco grumbled irritably. I rolled my eyes.

“Blaise, could you give Draco and I a minute, please?” I took another drink of water as my brother reluctantly left the room. I glanced back at Draco when he was gone. Bags were even more visible under his eyes, his uniform rumpled and his hair tousled, like he hadn’t left my side the entire time. My heart throbbed with pain. Knowing him, he probably hadn’t.

“Draco…” I squeezed my eyes shut. Even in day old clothes and messy hair he was beautiful. “What are you doing here? What if-“

“There’s no one here, Fliss.” Draco interrupted, his hand finding mine and holding it tightly. “I couldn’t just...I had to make sure you were okay.”

I opened my eyes, watching as he sat on the edge of the bed, still gripping my hand.

“Well...I’m okay. I am now, anyway.” I squeezed his hand. Draco’s tortured gray eyes met mine.

“Merlin, Fliss, hearing you scream like that…” his jaw tensed. “I thought he would kill you. It sounded like he was killing you.”

I winced. “That bad?”

“I’m so sorry, Felicity.” Draco bowed his head, platinum blonde strands tickling my hand. “I should have stopped him, I should’ve…”

“Draco.” I reached out to cup his cheek, my heart aching when the boy leaned into my touch. “There’s nothing you could have done. You would’ve blown our cover.”

He laughed humorlessly. “Right. The plan.” The words made his mouth twist with bitterness. I ran my fingers through his hair briefly, making him look up.

“I brought you something,” he said, fishing a tiny box out of the pocket of his trousers and placing it onto my lap. I narrowed my eyes.

“What on Earth did you do?”

Draco pursed his lips. “Just open it.”

My breath caught in my throat when I opened the box, revealing a delicate golden ring in the shape of a snake with tiny emeralds for its eyes.

“It’s beautiful.” I admitted, giving him a smile. “Thank you.”

“Happy one year,” he whispered, removing the ring from the box and sliding it onto the ring finger of my right hand. “You didn’t forget, did you?”

I hadn’t forgotten, not really. With each month that passed, I’d counted it as another month of our relationship. It was as if my stupid brain couldn’t help itself.

“Of course I didn’t.” I took a shaky breath. “I just…” I trailed off, shaking my head, admiring my new ring. “I love it, really. Thank you.” I reached out my arms for a hug. Draco eagerly accepted, engulfing me in his arms and holding me tightly against him.

“I miss your annoyingly sappy Hufflepuff tendencies,” he whispered into my hair. “I’d almost gotten used to them.”

I laughed even as my eyes filled with tears. “And I miss your snarky comments and horrible attitude.”

He snickered as he let me go. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“Yeah, well…” I shrugged. “Distance does make the heart grow fonder, it seems.”

Draco smirked, leaning down to kiss my lips. I wanted to drown in it, wanted to drown in the way he kissed me like a man dying of thirst, a man taking his first drink of water after an extended stay in the desert, but I pushed him back.

“I...I met Astoria.”

He frowned. “Who?”

“Your betrothed?” The “duh” was implied in my voice, of course. “She’s...we’re actually...friends?”

Draco’s eyebrows lowered. “You’re...friends with Astoria Greengrass?”

I nodded. “She’s...she’s actually really nice, Dray. I like her. Sometimes I feel like she’s…”

“She’s…?”

I looked down at my hands. “She’s kind of perfect for you, Draco. Kind, intelligent, pure blood…”

He shook his head, cursing under his breath. “I’m not having this discussion with you, Fliss.”

“But-“

“Please, Felicity.” His gray eyes pleaded with me. “Please don’t.”

“Draco…” my voice cracked. “I don’t expect you to...we have to be realistic.”

“No!” He glared at me. “We’re not talking about this. I don’t want to hear it!”

“Draco…”

“I need to go.” He kissed my lips again quickly, then my forehead and cheeks. “Happy anniversary, Fliss.”

With that, he was gone. I didn’t even wait until his footsteps faded before I buried my face into the pillow and sobbed.

Chapter 28

~~~

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here's the ring Draco gave her if anyone wanted a visual.

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[passicnateyet]

     marlene mckinnon.

ϟ.  → priscilla quintana : cis female : she/her : hit witch : hardline by julien baker ϟ  did you see MARLENE MCKINNON ? you know ,  26 year old PUREBLOOD who was formally in gryffindor . some say marlene can be quite sincere but are known to be hedonistic. they are aligned with the order.  maybe that’s why they remind me of club lights and cigarette smoke; bitten lips, bruises, bloodstains that won’t wash out, bare feet on hardwood floors.

                                    about marlene 

about. (tw: murder, violence)

Adventure and excitement defined Marlene’s childhood. Her parents were magical archaeologists, and their jobs took the family everywhere: to North Africa and the Levant, Southern Europe, Central America. Like many wizarding children, Marlene was home-schooled before Hogwarts and her brothers were her closest friends. They spent summers with their grandparents in London, growing familiar with British wizarding society, and winters immersed in the culture and history of wherever her parents work took her. Marlene thrived amidst the happy chaos of family life. Still, she eagerly anticipated settling into Hogwarts life and learning how to use her magic. Her excitement only intensified when Matt, a year her senior, began school, every letter making her more impatient for her turn.

At Hogwarts, Marlene fit right in - vivacious, outgoing, and always interested in some good trouble. She quickly found a close-knit group, but Marlene was friendly with almost everyone — chronically likeable, her mother would say — and she could always be found at the centre of any half-decent party. Mostly an average student, for Marlene, high motivation meant high grades and History of Magic was her best subject. She dreamt of becoming an historian, or an archaeologist, following in her parent’s footsteps. It was closely followed by Defence Against the Dark Arts, a subject that seemed increasingly relevant as the tensions in the wizarding world grew and the threat of violence became real with every delivery of the Daily Prophet. By the end of her seventh year, Marlene was ready to go but not on the path she had hoped. Her innate idealism, her morality, her muggleborn best friends — she felt unable to turn away from the war raging so quietly across Britain. So, Marlene made the only choice she believed she could: she stayed.

She put aside her dreams, the time she had spent on advanced studies in her last years at Hogwarts, and joined the Magical Law Enforcement Squad immediately after finishing school. Within months she had joined the Order, already disillusioned with the limited reach and efficacy of the Ministry. She has followed orders, faced the horror with steady hands. Blood on concrete, . She has fought for her friends and for her ideals. Smokes heavily. Drinks often. Raises her wand like a good soldier and does what is necessary, whatever the personal cost. The personal cost has been steep. In May, Matt was murdered on the steps of the Wizengamot and Marlene’s life changed forever. Marlene has sacrificed already: her ambitions, her innocence, her brother. No more and no less than anyone else, she reassures herself - but what more can she possibly offer?

wanted connections.

i’ve kept these purposely vague because really it’s what makes sense for the dynamic between our characters! these are just jumping off points and i want anything you can throw at me that fits marlene.

general connections - all orders

marlene is outgoing and extroverted and probably has a million friends - so there’s always space for more. she is heartbreakingly honest and a true idealist so she probably won’t like you if you share different values.

she’s also bisexual and fond of both romantic flings and one night stands so there is space for more than one of those currently and also historically with characters of any gender! values matter a little bit less in bed honestly

friends with benefits - death eater amycus carrow

marlene is sleeping with this person. is she catching some feelings? perhaps. does she know they are fighting on opposite sides of the war? certainly not. i would love to explore the fallout from finding out (in a way that of course works for my partner and protects their character from any unwanted consequences)

brother’s killer - death eater amycus carrow

marlene doesn’t know. will she find out? that’s up to you. is your character guilty or do they savour knowing it when they interact with marlene?? this could be a very different dynamic depending on where you want to go with it and i am HERE for it all

brother’s best friend

matt was a year older than marlene and murdered by death eaters during the war. if someone has space in their hearts for a dead best friend or close friend lets get some trauma bonding going

mom friend - order/neutral aileen rosmerta

marlene can manage cool and collected in work, but is a disaster at home: she’s out too often, drinks too much. she’s impulsive and erratic: swinging between the exuberant joy that used to define her and darker, manic moods. she has like at least one friend who just. tries to keep her from going completely off the edge

ex/first love - any allegiance first love: kingsley shacklebolt

there’s at LEAST space for a couple of people here - regardless of gender. lots of flexibility around the seriousness of the relationship

childhood friend - pureblood/halfblood of any order

marlene spent several months each year with her grandparents in london and her grandfather was a rather renowned wizengamot member  ━so although she was travelled frequently and was closest to her brothers, she had a few friends she would always run off with at events and parties pre-hogwarts. where has that left them now? we can figure that out

former school enemy - any allegiance

marlene got on with almost everybody at school - everybody EXCEPT this person. it might be because they were a bully, or because of massive ideological differences OR it might be completely and totally petty. both? both is also good. have they matured as adults? do they still trade barbs like teenagers?

work colleague/enemy/friend - any allegiance, must work in the ministry

keeping this very vague! let me see bosses! let me see tension between aurors and hit witches/wizards! cross-department friendships!

[ardenconway]

( continued from: x )

    ❝  i  said  that  we  are  closed ,   ❞   teddy  straightens  his  back ,  eyeing  the  other  as  she  saunters  across  the  room  with  an  influence  that  he  had  not  yet  caught  .  for  a  passing  moment ,  he  wonders  if  he  should  retrieve  the  wand  that’s  stuck  in  his  back  pocket  -  a  weapon  and  the  protection  .  his  gaze  does  fall  to  where  her  hand  disappears  into  the  shadows  of  her  coat ,  the  surging  paranoia  now  rampant  in  his  chest .  there’s  still  the  paralyzing  fear  ,  remnants  of  the  feelings  he’d  felt  in  the  aftermath  of  amycus  carrow  and  the  muggleborn  still  attempts  to  hide  it  from  his  features .  why  was  he  always  caught  alone  and  defenseless ?    ❝  if  you’re  not  getting  a  room ,  then  i  suggest  you  leave  now .  ❞   meant  to  be  a  threat  ,   but  it’s  only  half  convincing  when  the  only  thing  separating  the  duo  is  the  bar .    

@teddystcnk​

arden had come here after getting the mark. it burned on her skin, and there was an anger inside of her pounding away at her to get out, like a caged animal that had finally had enough. she was scared of herself, of all the adrenaline pumping through her veins, one quick move from him and she wouldn’t be afraid to do something that she might regret later. and that was the problem, wasn’t it? how could she think that she could be so neutral when things were constantly changing around them? the war was getting more and more darker as people had started to disappear, families being torn apart. she had thought of her own tonight, how happy and proud they were of her and how much she wanted to live up to their name that she had been given. 

there was no emotion on her face as she stared at him, she felt like she had nothing left to lose anymore, he was a nobody to her. so why did she falter for a second? why did she feel like she should just turn away because this wasn’t the fight that she didn’t need. but she feels the burn again, her fingers gripping onto her wand, she was meant to be someone better. people expected great things from her. she was meant to be a threat, a weapon. 

“fine.” she says, she tilts her head. “fine.”

within a split second she takes her wand out casts it towards him and says, “petrificus totalus!” 

she could’ve done more. she could’ve hurt him more. 

she walks over towards the bar, looking down at him before walking over him to grab a bottle of firewhiskey and taking a drink straight from the bottle. 

“thanks mudblood.”

[minervahopebeyond]

Blood Daffodils.

Chapter 16: Ally (part 2/2)

Hermione and Ron were revising her purse, making sure that they hadn’t forgot anything... Not that they could go back and look for it right now but whatever. Harry supposed that it calmed their nerves. Him and Nott were sitting by a tree, they had agreed between the three of them to keep watch of him just in case, although Nott hadn’t made any kind of attempt to escape since they had released him.

The silence was awkward but Harry guessed that talking would be even more so. Apparently the other boy didn’t think the same.

“Are you together now?” Nott’s voice sounded flat for the most part, maybe if he tried he could catch the little tinge of jealousy that intermingled with his words.

Harry knew that he was asking about him and Draco, it was obvious, but he didn’t know what was he supposed to respond. He never had a talk with the blond boy about what was going to happen to them when Nott appeared in the picture again. It was kind of a given that there wasn’t going to even be a ‘them’ anymore... From time to time, Harry let himself imagine that there was going to be one... Even in secret, even in stolen moments.

“He misses you.” Was the only thing that Harry responded, hoping that it would do. Nott let out a snort.

“I really doubt that, Potter.”

Harry turned around to look at him. Was he stupid or something? Did he not know...? But his thought were interrupted.

A bright silver light appeared to be coming towards them. Every fiber in Harry’s body stiffened. Nott seemed to realize this and tightened his fingers around his wand. Of course he would think that what was coming was a threat... It couldn’t be any more further from the truth.

The lion ran wildly, approaching them. It was amazing how it reflected the blond boy, his moods... everytime he saw the Patronus, something flipped inside his belly. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by the unmistakeable need to have Malfoy with him, of kissing him and hugging him, trying to apologize for all of this.

‘I had to do it, they could take you, they could kill you... I couldn’t allow it.’

The lion stood in front of them, in all its majestic glory. Harry took a deep breath before it began to speak to them. Or, well, yell at them was a more accurate term.

“YOU BLUNDERING IDIOTS” The sound of Draco’s voice echoed in their wards. Ron and Hermione ran to meet the patronus too. “HOW DARE YOU LEAVE ME BEHIND.”

“Oh, shit.” Ron muttered as he held Mione’s hand, looking for comfort. Harry wished to have some kind of comfort himself but the only comfort he had was looking at the silver lion in front of him.

“IT TOOK ME TWO WHOLE HOURS TO BE ABLE TO CONJURE THIS, NOT EVEN WHEN I ALMOST DIED IN DECEMBER DID I HAVE THIS KIND OF STRESS! COME BACK OR I SWEAR TO MERLIN THAT I WILL NEVER SPEAK TO EITHER OF YOU EVER AGAIN.”

Harry felt like his heart was being squeezed to death as he heard those words.

“Harry...” Hermione called for him but her voice was interrupted by Draco’s again.

“POTTER: YOUR FATHER IS HEART BROKEN AND SIRIUS IS WRECKING THE HOUSE JUST WITH ACCIDENTAL MAGIC. HE ALREADY FACED AZKABAN, HE DOESN’T NEED FOR HIS GODSON TO BE AN ARSEHOLE AND RUNAWAY.” And yes, Harry knew that. “WEASLEY: YOU ARE THE WORST ONE. YOU GAVE ME YOUR WORD AND LIED TO MY FACE. ‘I’M SORRY, FERRET. IT WASN’T MY CALL??’THEN WHOSE THE FUCK WAS IT? IF IT WAS YOURS GRANGER, I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT THIS IS NOT LIVING UP TO THE SLYTHERIN-CODE OF FRIENDSHIP.”

Harry heard Hermione let out a little sob and when he turned around tears were coursing down her cheeks. Actually, it had been Harry the one who had asked to leave the necklace at the mansion. He knew that Ron always carried it with him and Malfoy was very aware of that.

“IF YOU DON’T COME BACK IN LESS THAN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS, YOU CAN ALL FORGET ABOUT MY FRIENDSHIP AND GO FUCK YOURSELVES.” The lion ended up the monologue and faded away.

The uncomfortable silence surrounded them. Harry took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. He needed to reply, and he couldn’t do that if he couldn’t achieve his happiest memory. He turned to Nott and glared at him.

“Don’t even try to talk. If he hears you, he will put two and two together in a matter of seconds.”

“I think I know one or two things about him, Potter. I don’t want him in the Manor any more than you do.”

The pang of jealousy was unmistakable. ‘Throw it in my face why don’t you.’ He turned around and breathed in deeply. He tried to picture the first hug that he got from his father after the department of mysteries, so warm and welcoming...

“Expecto Patronum.” He casted waving his wand and his stag appeared in front of them. “Find Malfoy and tell him this: I’m sorry, we can’t. Don’t send another Patronus, we were alone right now but it’s dangerous. Please don’t hate us. Dad, Padfoot: I’m sorry too, please be safe.” And he sent the stag away.

—————————

Harry couldn’t fucking believe that he was going to drink the essence of the disgusting rat. He was pretty sure that Nott was doing it on purpose just to torture him.

He looked at the three passed out death eaters again and pulled a face. They had already stole their clothes and apparently the plan was to leave them here, in the middle of the forest, tied to a tree and wandless. Nott even had suggested to imperious them so they wouldn’t try to escape anywhere... Hermione wasn’t on board, though. Said that if they gave them a very large amount of Sleeping Draught, that they should be on that tree at least until tomorrow.

Ron and Hermione were going to polyjuice as Alecto and Amycus Carrow. Harry thought that it was pretty creepy for them to be ‘siblings’, even if it was temporary, but Nott had chosen the Death Eaters that normally wouldn’t talk as much in meetings or were assigned the lesser tasks.

“Which one are you?” Harry had asked, arching an eyebrow defiantly. Nott snorted as a response.

“What do you think, Potter? I feed the prisoners, and sometimes the dark lord sends me to feed Nagini because he finds it hilarious, the fact that I’m scared shitless of his murderous snake. And at the meetings I just sit there. After what happened last year: I’m a joke.” He said as he was applying the Draught in Amycus mouth. “Not that I’m complaining, being useless means that you don’t get certain privileges that I’m not particularly interested in having.”

“Like what?” Hermione asked looking at him with the over sized clothes that belonged to Alecto.

“You know, killing and torturing.” He said shrugging as he stood up. “Which brings us to a very important subject: you already know the backgrounds of these ones, but let’s go over the way that they behave. The Carrows are normally at Hogwarts but they come for meetings because they like to kiss the Dark Lord’s arse.” When he saw the panic flashing through Ron’s eyes, Nott calmed him down. “He is not going to be there. Most of the times we don’t know where he is, the meetings are basically to check everyone’s business. If they ask you something you respond that the Dark Lord’s plan is going fantastic and that’s it, maybe mention that you casted a cruciatus on a half-blood third year if it gets to that.” He flinched. He was starting to think that things were actually worse at Hogwarts than outside. “Avoid talking, the two of you.” Then, he turned to face Harry. “You, on the other hand... You’ve met Wormtail before, haven’t you? He is afraid of every single fucking thing, don’t look at anyone directly at their eyes. He only acts cocky if the Dark Lord is around because, for some unknown reason, he kind of likes the piece of vermin.”

Harry knew why Voldemort liked him, it was because he handed in their location, back in the first war, and because he was the one who helped him come back after the triwizard tournament.

“Okay, are you going in first?” Harry asked and Nott shook his head.

“You and me are going in first, the Carrows always go in together and that way we can sense how everything is inside before Weasley and Granger enter.” He saw the brunette cross his arms and take a deep breath. “They are going to catch you. There is no way around it. Try to be as quick as you can, and be near the fireplace, you can apparate safely once you are inside the floo because technically you are not inside the wards. You could be tracked, though... But I don’t have a better idea.”

“What about Luna?” Ron asked quietly and he could see Nott tensing before responding.

“She is not the only one there... You should take Olivander and Griphook too, if you can. I know which spells open the cellars... If Potter comes with me, or one of you two, it could seem like you rescued them without my help. I’m going to receive a Cruciatus but whatever.”

And, suddenly, he understood why Draco was in love with Nott, much to his dismay. He had another type of bravery, the one that Harry lacked, the one that Draco and Hermione also had: you do what you have to do, don’t matter the costs. The only thing that the brunette was trying to avoid was getting himself killed, something that Harry was grateful for because if he died, then Draco would die too. And that wasn’t an option.

After that, they took the polyjuice and used the distance from the forest to the manor to practice the way that these three people normally walked. Nott kept giving Ron and Hermione advise, Harry was the one who nailed his imitation of Pettigrew in the first try because he would never forget the few times that he had met him.

It kind of bothered him that Nott was pretty fucking funny sometimes. He had not believed Malfoy when he told him that... It sucked, each moment that he saw how the brunette really acted, was a moment were Harry was reminded that he loved someone who didn’t love him back. Not the way he should... And seeing the brunette telling Hermione ‘No, Granger. Walk like you have a broom up your arse, it’s like she is always constipated and wants everyone to know it’ was a pretty honest reminder of why Draco found Nott hilarious; he had the same sense of humor that Padfoot had... And Malfoy always laughed until tears came out of his eyes with Sirius.

“Weasley, even though I suspect that the Carrows have a thing going on, I highly recommend that you don’t look at Granger every two minutes.” Nott said and Ron, wearing the face of this grown up man, blushed terribly and said ‘I wasn’t ‘ in such indignant tone that the only logic explanation was that he actually was. Hermione was the only one to reply.

“Ugh, they are brother and sister” But the brunette shrugged, giving the impression that it wasn’t as crazy, not in their circles. Harry couldn’t help but to pull a face at that.

Once they got to the entrance, Harry took a deep breath. They were supposed to not have a problem to enter at all, but, you know, it all seemed a pretty bad idea overall. The best one that they had but still a bad one. It surprised him that everything was lugubrious to the point where it seemed almost cartoonish.

“Well, let’s try not to die, right?” Ron joked and Hermione punched him in the arm and his friend cried in pain. Harry took another deep breath.

“This is going to work, we are going to be fine.” Was what he replied, trying to calm everyone down, even if he didn’t believe that at all.

[alectocarrcw]

╰ °✧ that’s ALECTO CARROW and SHE seems to look a lot like MIA WASIKOWSKA. according to ministry files, the PUREBLOOD used to attend HOGWARTS and be in SLYTHERIN. now, they’re 25 and a “HEALER” AT ST. MUNGO’S. watchful eyes in your peripheral, goosebumps prickling the back of your neck, an obsession you cannot ignore, sickly weak and deathly pale, sadism that could scare the devil are the best ways to describe them. it doesn’t say in their file, but word around the street is that they’re a DEATH EATER.

BASICS

Character Name: Alecto Carrow

Preferred Pronouns: she/her

Birthday: 13 January 1955

Employment: A healer at St. Mungo’s, specifically in the poisons ward. Alecto loves to experiment, but with the accumulated debt her family subjected to her and her brother, she didn’t have the means to fund her own projects. At St. Mungo’s poisons ward, she’s limitless in the ingredients available for her to create both poisons and remedies (not that the latter will ever see the light of day), as well as endless patients she could… test her concoctions on. Those she experiments on are patients who are on their deathbeds, those who wouldn’t be missed either for long or at all. Should they die after consuming her poisons, then it was simply their time to go. No one is the wiser. 

Patronus: Alecto will never be able to cast a Patronus, much to her frustration. She hates not being able to do something, feeling limited in inaccessibility, but there’s no happy memories for her to draw on to bring about a Patronus. However, it would likely be a lynx: controlling in power, individualistic, and sharp-sighted, as well as quiet, intelligent, and curious.

Boggart: She sees an older woman, a much more beautiful woman who stalks around her with an air of authority and privilege that she was never allowed to have. The mug the woman carries is a sickly green, the faint outline of a skull in its ripples, and Alecto’s mother shoves the poison at her daughter, hissing: You are a disgrace to the Carrow name. Drink your poison, girl: perhaps we’ll be lucky enough to see you drop dead. She will never have the beauty that her mother possessed, never have the propriety of a pureblood socialite, but at least she can paint her bedroom walls a deep red, courtesy to palette her mother’s open throat provides.

PERSONALITY TRAITS: 

[ + ] Sly: Save for her expulsion from Hogwarts, Alecto has always found deceiving people to be pathetically easy. She and Amycus had been sickly from a young age, and everyone pities the sick kid--oh, how she took advantage of that. I’m too weak to do that, she’d say with a tremble added to her voice. Push the student down the stairs? With these knobby arms? Her expulsion had been a fluke, something she swore wouldn’t happen again. Her lies came easier with age, as did her ability to cover up her illegal experiments: who had something to hide when that something couldn’t be proved in the first place?

[ + ] Focused: Her ability to sit down and get her work done in record-time is unrivaled, at least as far as she’s concerned. Anything beyond her task at hand is a distraction, and a distraction is the last thing she wants. Alecto gets to the end goal for both herself and for others requesting favors of her through a sort of tunnel-vision, but that’s the way she likes it.

[ + ] Curious: She thanks dear mother for this particular quality of hers. It was Mother who introduced her to poisons and their effects on the human body, as well as anatomy so she could really appreciate how a person’s body can convulse when subjected to the Cruciatus curse. She was enthralled then, watching their muscles jump in response to the pain of poison or a curse, and she’s still just as fascinated, even if her subjects are much less healthy of late. She wants to know how the body reacts to every extreme she puts it through; she may never be fully satiated.

[ - ] Short-Tempered: Another gift from her family, Alecto is prone to bouts of (sometimes uncalled for) extreme anger. She flies into a rage that involves vials being thrown and unfortunate patients’ bones being snapped when something goes wrong in her tests, only to be healed and promptly obliviated lest a competent healer question them later on. The only person she tries not to hurt is her brother, but if she does then it simply cannot be helped. Afterward, Alecto never apologizes. She just gets back to work.

[ - ] Manipulative: Sweet words don’t mean nearly as much coming from a plain face than they do from a beautiful one, something she’s secretly envious of her mother for. Still, given the nature of her true work and the environment she grew up in, Alecto had to find her own way to get what she wanted, because being a daddy’s girl wasn’t an option for her like it might’ve been with another family. She lathered honey onto the tip of her tongue at a young age and since then, she’s used it to barter and steal and worm her way into gaining friends in high places, even if the proceeding smile has a slightly unnerving undertone to it. She gets what she wants.

[ - ] Sadistic: No one takes dying patients and feeds them poison with a sane mind. Alecto finds joy in the convulsing bodies of her subjects for the few hours she’s able to have them alone, taking a mountain of notes with each muscle twitch before adding a spell or a curse to just the right spot to inflict more pain. It’s her favorite pastime, and she’s certain she knows more about the reactions of human anatomy versus spell casting and ingested poisons than anyone in the ward, perhaps even the hospital; she can’t wait to move on to injecting poisons directly into her subjects’ veins.

BIOGRAPHY; ( tw for abuse / childhood abuse ahead )

She should have been the envy among the pureblood elite, just as her mother had been before her. 

Her mother had been graceful, charismatic, a beauty beyond compare, and all eyes turned toward the Carrows after she had announced her pregnancy to see such traits reflected in the eyes of any children she bore, doubly so when twins were announced partway into the pregnancy. Alecto’s first familial disappointment was her own birth, entering the world on a sullen January evening weeks before she was meant to and minutes before her brother. Frail were the bones of a newborn, but that risk was multiplied by their premature birth. Thus began one of many hospital stays throughout Alecto’s childhood, surrounded by tutting healers and bright white walls, reflecting fluorescent lights and nearly blinding her by the tender age of five.

There was something off-putting about her, growing up. Being carted to and from the hospital didn’t leave much room for proper childhood development, let alone an education among her peers. Her dependency on vials of medicine borderlined an unhealthy obsession, and at home her mother only encouraged her intrigue toward potions and poisons with her own mixes, sickly green liquids filling the vials and tilting into her mouth as she insisted Alecto build up a tolerance from an early age. Mother wasn’t careful, however, and Alecto took vials while she was at home and fed them to the animals that dared to approach the Carrow home, watching squirrels and bugs and, later, dogs and cats thrash against invisible foes coursing their intestines until they fell still in defeat. She drew the scenes on the paper the healers provided her when she couldn’t be at home, ignoring the horrified expressions the adults wore as she depicted each detail with morbid fascination. 

Hogwarts saw an improvement in her health, if only just. The dampness that filled the Slytherin common rooms from its dungeon location echoed the sober atmosphere of the Carrow manor, but away from an absent father and an overbearing mother Alecto found it in herself to thrive--particularly in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts (though she scoured the library for the offensive dark arts as well, eager to see what spells and curses she could make tick). Her peers whispered and laughed without much subtly at her, taunting the beauty she would never have, aggravating her nerves until she snapped. One whisper into Amycus’ ear saw an older student shoved down the steps of the astronomy tower, and Alecto couldn’t stop staring at the way her bones were twisted into an all-too unnatural angle. It didn’t take much convincing to get Amycus to do her bidding, because she knew her brother wanted it too: wanted to see those who tormented them tormented in return, tenfold. The best part was they never got caught, never left enough evidence to lead back to the twins’ so-called accidents; at least, until they did. One slip-up saw the Carrow twins standing in a snowstorm, blood splattered on their green robes, and professors dragged them away. Not even the Carrow name could keep their wands from being snapped, but it was enough to get another wand and get them into Durmstrang.

To say it truthfully, Alecto didn’t give a rat’s ass about the war Lord Voldemort reigned down upon the wizarding world. She knew about blood purity, knew her brother saw muggleborns as a threat to the world as they knew it, but that wasn’t why Alecto took the Dark Mark. How did magic pick and choose which muggles got to see their world? It had to be more than having magical lineage choosing the person at random. Alecto wanted to know how it worked, and only the Dark Lord would let her slice open muggleborns and test their blood. Her potions skills, along with a good bit of fibbing, got her into the poisons ward of St. Mungo’s, a place that she had considered home for half of her childhood. Healing wasn’t her end goal, though: testing was. So long as the Death Eaters brought her subjects to experiment on, she would do whatever they wished in whatever fashion they desired--and this time, Alecto would not get caught.

[unchosens]

wonderful graphic thanks to @theboywhv, the best person alive

❝ there’s something inside you, it’s hard to explain. they’re talking about you, boy, but you’re still the same. ❞ Merlin’s beard, what is ( HARRY JAMES POTTER ) doing out at this hour? For a ( HALF-BLOOD ) who is ( 46 ) years old, ( HE ) really ought to know better. You know, I hear that they’re aligned with ( THE ORDER ), but that could be just a rumor. I do know that they're ( CISMALE ) and a ( GRYFFINDOR ) alum who works as a ( UNEMPLOYED ) though. They're very ( RESILIENT ) and ( SELFLESS ) but also quite ( SOLITARY ) and ( WRATHFUL ), which could be why they remind of ( TRUSTING YOUR GUT, LESSONS LEARNT THE HARD WAY, OLD SCARS AND FRESH WOUNDS, THE WEIGHT OF DUTY ). Some people say they’re the spitting image of ( NAVEEN ANDREWS ), but I’ve never heard of them. Word on the street is that they're ( THE REVENANT ) and their prophecy is ( PROPHECY #58. ), but only time will tell if that's true or not. 

triggers: death, parental death, ptsd, torture

“THE REVENANT is the only person who can vanquish the unspeakable enemy, for they possess power that their nemesis knows not. When all is said and done, only they and they alone can end this for good. But if they fall, the entire world will fall with them.”

POST WAR.

Life was difficult for Harry after the war. He couldn’t bear the idea of going back to Hogwarts. Not only did the memories of everyone who died there haunt him, but it felt pointless. He didn’t belong there anymore, sitting in class, trying to pretend everything was the same. Harry signed up with the Aurors instead, in the direct aftermath not seeing another path for himself than to continue what he had started in protecting others. The work didn’t exactly make him happy, but it was a fulfilling purpose, helping him get up in the morning every day.

[PTSD TW; TORTURE TW] The lightning scar had never been the worst of his wounds. The memories of the people who’d died (for him), the feeling of Voldemort in his head, the sounds of Hermione screaming under torture, Remus, Tonks, Fred and Colin dead in the Great Hall were all what truly lingered. He tried his best, but he couldn’t help but think if he’d been smarter, done things a better way, they’d still be alive. They could all still be alive. The things Harry had done himself – such as the torture of Amycus Carrow - haunted him less, but he wasn’t proud of it either. There were days he thought he’d never get out of his own head, once trapped there by Voldemort, now only by himself – days he thought something had gone wrong inside of him and he simply wasn’t built for anything but fighting a war. It was Ron and Hermione he leaned on most, who helped him recover from the very worst of his depression and PTSD, but they couldn’t make it go away, couldn’t fix it just by being at his side as they had done for so many of his problems. His symptoms were mainly expressed through recurring vivid nightmares, consistent low moods, continuing hyper-vigilance/alertness in his day-to-day activities and frequent self-isolation. Harry was never good at talking about the things that bothered him most, and it was no different now, he kept most of it inside and threw himself into his new purpose, being an Auror. [END TW]

He tried his best to keep functioning, to keep seeing his friends - Harry hated the thought of worrying them and he needed to be around them, too, for his own peace of mind. Teddy also meant the world to him and he was determined to be there for his godchild , the closest person he now had to family. Andromeda remained Teddy’s primary caregiver and was scarcely willing to be parted from her only remaining family for much more than an hour, but she and Harry got along surprisingly well and she soon became comfortable with letting Harry look after him for longer periods. She treated Harry not as a hero, but as the shell-shocked and traumatised young man that he was. He certainly wasn’t ready to be a parent to a young child, but Harry visited often, at least two or three afternoons a week, at his most presentable, determined to at least be a steady presence in Teddy’s life. Usually, he ended up sleeping the night when Andromeda forced him to stay over in the guest room. She could tell that left to his own devices, he wasn’t getting much rest.

Soon after the post-battle clean up, when Kingsley approached him about Auror training, Harry didn’t hesitate. It was what he had always planned on – the only thing he’d planned on. And it was a natural extension of the work he’d already been doing, helping with the trials and the remaining Death Eaters. For someone not expecting to survive, there was something healing about participating in the clean-up, in the rebuild. It wasn’t that he couldn’t see a different path – quidditch, teaching, all things he enjoyed, that he might have made a life out of. In another life. At the end of the day, that life wasn’t for him. It might have been restful – but Harry knew he had never been a restful person. He never would be. At least now it was on his terms, his choice. That’s not to say he managed to find a healthy balance – Harry threw himself into the work, caring little for his own wellbeing when the only thing he feared was losing momentum and having to think about the trauma of the war.

Becoming an Auror required a lengthy adjustment process. The war was over, yes, but it was time for politics to begin, and there, Harry was out of his depth. He had old scars, too, literally and figuratively, from dealing with the Ministry and a lot of distrust. He’d never been good at working with others, who weren’t Ron and Hermione, but luckily, both were still at his side. What was difficult was learning to accept help from other people too, and getting used to the slow and bureaucratic way Aurors had of solving problems. Harry couldn’t just throw himself headfirst into danger anymore, surviving on skill, luck and nerve – he had to listen, obey orders and co-operate. All of which he found difficult, used to operating on his own, or under the trusted instructions of Dumbledore – the only person he’d ever really had to answer to in the past. Now there was a whole department full of co-workers and bosses who he had to find a way to get along with, many of whom thought he scarcely had the right to be there.

Harry had never gotten along with the Ministry - had in fact in the past refused to co-operate with them. Now that the story was out and his defeat of Voldemort and quest to destroy the horcruxes was public knowledge, some resented that Harry, a seventeen year old boy had not confided in the Aurors - they believed they should have been entrusted with the mission, that Harry keeping the secret close to his chest had been reckless and selfish. It was mostly due to Kingsley’s influence that Harry was hired - he wanted someone he could trust within the department given the upheaval it had gone through during the war. Of the Aurors, some had gone on the run, some had been killed, some had been Imperiused and some had been collaborators who were now imprisoned themselves. As Gawain Robards attempted to put the cracks of the Department back together,  Harry found himself at odds with many of his senior co-workers, who believed that Harry saw himself as above the law - much as they believed his mentor Dumbledore had. 

In return, it was only Kingsley who Harry really trusted. He was suspicious of many of the Aurors he’d come across in the past - people like Dawlish, Proudfoot and Savage, who may not have been working for Voldemort, but had done plenty of damage regardless due to their unquestioning loyalty and fanaticism for the Ministry’s rule. Dawlish in particular was a problem, given that he had been Imperiused by the Death Eaters after their takeover of the Ministry, something he was particularly susceptible to after the Order had Confunded him several times. For this, he blamed Harry.  Their working relationship was tense to say the least, and it was a relief for Harry when he began to rise through the ranks and no longer had to answer to Dawlish. 

At first, though, Harry just wanted to work. Help in the trials, make things better, not get involved in politics. He remained fervently distrusting of the Ministry, though he believed Minister Shacklebolt was different. It was Hermione who’d always had the passion for causes in the abstract, things like S.P.E.W., that honestly, Harry had barely even feigned interest in. He’d step up every time if there was danger, if someone needed him – throw his life on the line without a second thought, fight back against a threat, an aggressor, a tyrant – but he was never really a revolutionary.

Instead, Harry had somehow naturally fallen into a role as a Dementor expert. For the first couple of years after the war, he was a dedicated – some might say obsessive – member of the Dementor Task Force. The task force concentrated on tracking down the Dementors that had been working for Voldemort and getting them away from the wizarding and muggle villages that they had gotten used to targeting in big swarms. It wasn’t precisely healthy - Harry had always been affected by them worse than most and especially after the war, when he was already in a dark place, constantly reliving all the worst memories and being dragged into low moods by the Dementors wasn’t good for him. Especially as he approached the job with the razor-like focus he had so often been consumed by in the past. But he pushed on anyway, arguing that it wasn’t as if other people had an easy time with them either. He’d do his share. His famously strong Patronus put him in a better position than most of his co-workers anyway, which is what got him originally appointed to the force.

Then, at the same time as Harry was working hard on driving the Dementors away from people they would harm, he learnt that the Ministry was still intent on using them in Azkaban as prison guards. As before, for Harry, it’s when it becomes personal that he takes an interest in politics, and then he is unstoppable. Nothing was more painful to him than the memory of Sirius’ twelve years in Azkaban without a trial, the lost years they could have had together, and the life stolen from his godfather, sucked dry by the Dementors. Even aside from that, the Dementors turned coat before and could do so again. Harry would rather trust people than the dark creatures, if he has to trust anyone outside his core group at all.

So he then found himself getting involved in politics after all, more than simply saying a few words here and there, or supporting Hermione in one of her reforms. His friends were glad of it, encouraging him to take a step back from active duty hunting down the Dementors, having been concerned as Harry experienced his darkest period since the end of the war. The good news was that the famous Golden Trio were still inseparable, and frankly, unstoppable when they had a cause. It was mostly Hermione leading the way, but Harry wasn’t going to sit back and participate in more of the same Ministry corruption either. He turned his focus on prison and trial reform relentlessly, steadily growing more comfortable in being a leading voice, and since then recognised as one of the more influential Aurors in the department, likely to be appointed to leadership in time.

[TORTURE TW] Yet Harry himself was far from perfect. While he wasn’t especially guilt-ridden over his needless and anger-fuelled torture of Carrow, or the other, more practical uses he’d made of the Imperius Curse during the war, he couldn’t in good conscience fail to recount the whole story, everything he had done, when telling Kingsley what had happened, right after the battle. Kingsley organised a pardon for war crimes, which he then promptly buried at the Ministry for political reasons, aware that people didn’t want to know this about their hero. His motivations were both to protect Harry from undergoing more scrutiny when he had been through so much already – and at the same time, ensure the new government wasn’t tarnished by this complication. [TORTURE TW]

Harry went along with this, hating the idea of undergoing more publicity, more attention, and following Kingsley’s lead to let it rest, not yet wary of what this could mean for continuing corruption in the Ministry.  His use of the Unforgivables remain a secret even now, something not known to many outside of Harry’s closest circle of Ginny, Ron, Hermione and some of the Order. When Harry thought of that time and what he did, he remembered the danger of his temper, of what he was capable of if he gave into anger, of where it could lead him. That, more than anything else, was what haunted him about what he’d done and was a warning he planned on passing on to his children when he considered them old enough – yet he often put it off, afraid of what they might come to think of him.  

Before that, he and Ginny rebuilt their relationship, finding their deep connection to still be alive and strong after the horrors of war. It was Ginny who got him without Harry having to speak, and it was Ginny who could make him laugh again. She understood the trauma in his past and had never changed the way she looked at him. They eventually got married and supported each other as they grew their careers, Ginny in professional Quidditch and Harry in working his way up the ranks of the Aurors until he became Head Auror. 

 As his family grew, Harry truly felt for the first time in his life that he was putting the past to rest, finally letting go of all his pain. It was James who came first - a child rejected by his birth family on account of his magic. The pain of being an outsider was something Harry knew well - his own childhood had very little love in it once he was sent to the Dursleys - and his heart instantly went out to the little boy. When some time later, another baby was left on his and Ginny’s doorstep, just as he had been left on a doorstep himself years ago, to some it might have seemed as if fate was guiding his life again. But Harry didn’t think about it like that. He still believed what Dumbledore had told him - that it was choices that mattered. Not ability, not blood, not birth, not fate. It had been Sirius Black, a man not related to him by anything but the ties of friendship and love that had given Harry his first experience of family, of a father. It seemed right that he could do the same for his two sons - more than right, it was what he wanted, more than anything. A third child, Lily, made their family complete. As a parent, he wanted to ensure his children grew up with everything he didn’t have, as well as give them the best of him, usually at his most patient and even-tempered around them, if also a little overprotective. 

Protecting his family was his highest priority, but his fame and position made it difficult. Harry tried to keep his kids from the spotlight as much as possible, but even he knew it was hopeless. The press had never stopped being interested in the Boy Who Lived, even once he was a man. For himself, he hated the publicity - personally, he could never quite get over the lies and the harassment he’d faced, the way he'd been treated as a spectacle to dissect all over the front page. But Harry had also seen firsthand what it was like when false information and dogma was fed through the news and so professionally, he knew it was crucial to speak to them – in his capacity as Head Auror only. His most important rule, which he made clear at every interview with his sternest expression and very coldest voice was that he never spoke about his family. All he ever wanted was for his children to have safe and happy lives, and he would have done anything to make that happen. It was why Harry struggled with Lily’s ambition to be an Auror. At once painfully proud and fiercely worried that she would find the cycle of violence and darkness too much to bear, it took time for him to accept that she was just as stubborn as he ever was. 

THE SECOND WAR.

The rise of the Wraiths made Harry furious, perhaps more than even he had ever been before (and he was always very good at anger). The sacrifices he had made, that the people who had fought and died had made, were not going to be made into nothing. He had been frustrated for some time by Orion Lestrange - it had been clear to Harry that the wizard had been planning some kind of attack, but within the law, there had been nothing he could do while Orion hid behind a cover of political freedom. While at many times in his career he had felt the old frustration with the Ministry and its skewed priorities and limitations, he was now truly disillusioned at the way it seemed to harm more than help, despite the contributions of Kingsley, Hermione and Harry himself. He now felt as though he had failed to make a difference, failed to prevent this war, a mistake that was proving catastrophic. 

Harry then reformed the Order not just to fight, but to win. And this time, he had no intention of doing it in secret, beyond the covertness necessary for survival. The Order itself would be secret, but Harry was going to speak out. This was their world now. They weren’t children, and they weren’t powerless.

He depended on his old circle to be his fellow leaders, Ron and Hermione, Ginny, Luna and Neville – there was no one else he trusted more, and together he had faith they could end this, for once and for all this time. 

He took the codename Hart, a reference to his stag Patronus - hart being a term for an adult red deer, was also chosen for Gryffindor red, but of course, he had to endure a lot of jokes mostly from Ron and the Weasley brothers about being the heart of the Order. All of which Harry dismissed with an eyeroll – he wasn’t special, certainly not more than any of them. They were going to win together. 

When Harry heard about the Prophecy, his determination to fight didn’t change, but he also felt a deep dread, an ever-increasing disconcertment at the way history seemed to be repeating itself. He wasn’t afraid of having to fight Voldemort again – he would do that prophecy be damned. He didn’t need a prophecy to tell him to do that. But Harry was afraid of the past repeating itself, of more people dying for him, of them making a sacrifice for someone who wasn’t worth it. How could he, how could one person, be worth all the death that lay in his past? The worst of it was the fear of who could be lost next – his children, the very best of his life; his wife, who was the greatest source of happiness he’d ever had; or his friends, who’d never backed down from his side, despite the risks they’d faced. 

The thing about prophecies was that Harry learnt them, as he learnt so many things, at Dumbledore’s knee. Hearing this one made him angry. The only one who could defeat an unspeakable enemy? Already, it implied that he would once more be the victor, the one to survive, the one who lives. What about his children? His wife? His best friends? There were no assurances for them and Harry had no intention of being the survivor this time, not if it meant losing them. The one thing he wanted was to end this war before his children had to be more involved than they already were. And that, to Harry, meant not listening to the prophecy. He already knew they didn’t have to be true – that it was Voldemort who had really marked Harry as his eventual killer. Dumbledore had told him that, and whatever complicated feelings he had about the man, who he at once loved, resented and couldn’t bear to hear criticised, Harry still had more faith in him than just about anyone else. If there needed to be a sacrifice this time, he’d be the one to do it.

The only problem was that if other people chose to believe the prophecy – and they did – he and his family would be a target. He knew in a way that it was his own fault. After all, he did defeat Voldemort. But Harry also knew it wasn’t because of any prophecy. As he once put it, he chose to walk into that arena with his head held high and do the job marked for him, by Voldemort, by Dumbledore – but not by fate. To the rest of the world, though, he had proven once before that he was the Chosen One. So the Potter family increased their protections, and went as close into hiding as they could go without actually going into hiding, all the while the spectres of James and Lily I and their fate hanging over him.     

Meanwhile, considering his determination to not believe this Prophecy, Harry started thinking about what might happen if he did die. It was certainly not his intention to die – he didn’t mean to sacrifice himself simply for the sake of it, but he’d fight and die if necessary, like anyone else. He had to think, then, about how that might mean leaving his children with nothing. Years ago he’d given the Marauder’s Map to Teddy, who he assumed had since passed it down to James, and perhaps Albus and Lily in turn (Harry didn’t need to know about that, it wasn’t supposed to be passed down from parent to child, but from mischief maker to mischief maker - though regardless of that, he knew what it was like to crave a connection to the father you’d never known and it belonged as much to the Lupins as to the Potters). 

Now, however, Harry gave his long-treasured Invisibility Cloak to Lily as a means of protection at Hogwarts from the student Wraiths and also as a tacit sign of his approval of her decision to become an Auror. But truthfully, it was also because of his uncertainty of whether he’d make it out alive this time. Perhaps, if the worst indeed came, it would give her comfort, as having something of his own father always had for him. He also, at this time, looked past his own desire to stay perfect in her eyes and told Lily about his own use of the Unforgivable Curses in his past, knowing that she was in many ways, just like him - and if Lily was going to choose the same path as him, face the same darkness, he wanted to warn her of the dangers of their shared temperament. He had passed on enough pain to Lily already and he did not want her to repeat his mistakes. At Hogwarts, Lily did need the Cloak the most; for James, Albus and Teddy, all adults, he focused on giving them all the time he could, just in case. He wanted them to know there was nothing in the world he loved as much. That it had all been worth it, to get to this part of his life, where he got to have them. 

DEATH AND RESURRECTION.

The one thing he wanted was to end this war before his children had to be more involved than they already were. But tragically, that hope ended the same night Harry’s life did. Lestrange, something of a sadist, had chosen the night on purpose and tormented Harry with the fact before he died. Harry gave up any hope of escape, preferring to buy time for his family.

Ginny took James and Albus to safety, to the Granger-Weasley safehouse, only to return with Ron and Hermione to help Harry. They were too late to find anything more than his body, bereft of his wand, which had been taken by the Wraiths as a trophy. 

He was buried at Godric’s Hollow, in the graveyard next to his parents’ plot. On their other side is a memorial stone Harry organised himself, honouring Sirius and Regulus Black, neither of whom left a body behind. Harry, alongside Andromeda, also oversaw the burials of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks at Godric’s Hollow. 

While the fact that he has been brought back from the dead as a living revenant seems to point to the prophecy’s accuracy, the old Harry would have pointed out that knowledge of the prophecy would have encouraged the Knights to bring him back as just that – a self-fulfilling prophecy once more. Now, without his memories, Harry is less inclined to regard the prophecy as false, not when everyone around him seems to credit it but it remains yet another thing Harry struggles to believe about himself. What chance does he have of defeating any enemy? He doesn’t even know who he is. He doesn’t know if he wants to know who he is, if he even wants to be alive. He might be a revenant, but he isn’t a hero. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help. If he knew where to start, he’d try. For all his confusion and grief over the heaven he’s lost, there’s no part of Harry capable of sitting back and doing nothing. But he’s lost. Whoever Harry Potter used to be, he’s no one’s Chosen One anymore. 

Harry Potter had been resting, at peace. He was torn away from that when he woke up in his grave, to be found by the Knights and told who he was. At first he felt nothing so much as confusion. All he could really remember was being safe, comfortable, warm; now it was eyes on him all the time, hushed whispers in his presence, frightened voices and angry discussions in which people threw around blame. Learning of his past made him more unnerved still – it was impossible to think of being this person others described, apparently the perfect hero … though Harry can’t help but see the trail of death that seems to follow this past self of his in all the stories. Touching everyone except him. 

Being around his old family and friends is, for the most part, uncomfortable. He doesn’t know how to act around any of them, he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be. And they look at him with so much expectation, so much hope. It’s the worst around his children. The way they look at him could break him if he let it. Despite everything he doesn’t remember, Harry hates the feeling that he’s disappointing people. It hurts to let them down, when it seems as if they love him so very much. If only he could remember. But no matter how much he tries, he can’t find what he’s lost – what, he sometimes thinks, might no longer exist as anything other than someone else’s memory. 

And there are times he doesn’t want to try. Times all he feels is anger, an anger he tries not to show, but it’s there. He doesn’t belong here. He shouldn’t be here. And they brought him back. It was the first thing he had said when he was pulled out of the grave – “I’m not supposed to be here. Who are you? Why did you do this to me?” Since then, it’s never really stopped hurting. It got worse when he learnt about Neville Longbottom – Harry doesn’t remember the man, but knowing he should be alive and Harry should be dead is a lot to bear. From the stories, though, allowing other people to die for him is nothing new. The question is why other people keep going along with it. 

With the resurrection, Harry has been altered. Some things remain the same – he’s still brave and determined, still resilient and certainly still internalising his own feelings, trying to be strong, because it’s what people seem to expect of him, what they’re looking to him for. And he can’t help but try to be what others need instinctively, though truth be told, he’s no better than he ever was at comforting others, awkward and unpractised at both words and touches of love. The feeling of a wand in his hand is familiar, even if he doesn’t remember old spells, and he seems to have a way of rubbing the scar on his forehead when he’s thinking, or brushing flat the unruly hair on his head, that might well painfully remind his forgotten loved ones of the man they knew. But while he still feels those old instincts deep within, ultimately, he’s more consumed with himself and his own pain. It’s something like being a child again – egocentric and absorbed in his own feelings. 

His worst flaws, the ones that before his death, Harry had spent years working on and trying to master are instead amplified – his temper, impatience, independent streak, tendency to internalise and his disregard of his own life. For now, he’s cooperating, remaining hidden in the Order safehouse, but he’s never been easy to control, and while others are consumed with trying to figure out what to do about Harry, what’s right - even with the best of intentions, he’s never liked being told what to do or “handled” like a problem. As if he’s incapable. In fact, that tends to make him more defiant, more reckless, and without the bitterly learnt lessons in controlling those urges, Harry is every day more likely to do something he can’t take back. 

The worst part of it is that he doesn’t really know what he wants – to do anything and everything possible to get back his memories, regardless of danger? To fight alongside the people who are apparently his family? Or to leave, to take the offer of a peaceful life without any of them, to leave and never look back? Deep down, there’s another urge, to give up entirely, to stop fighting past the pain he feels in order to stay alive – it’d be easier to return to the heaven he’d lost. That much he can’t say out loud to anyone, sure of the pain it would cause to these people who won’t seem to stop fighting for him, whether he wants them to or not. 

[noxtms]

IN CHARACTER DATE : december 25th, 2020. TRIGGER WARNINGS : talk of injury, blood, gore, death.

“WHY?” HERMIONE’S voice shakes something fierce though her chin is lifted high and defiant. her gaze flickers around the room, landing on each of her comrades - searching. it takes varying amounts of time for them to realize that she doesn’t know where the elder wand has ended up in the commotion : is she just trying to buy time? “why are you doing this?” 

it doesn’t matter, of course. IT’S NEVER REALLY MATTERED. bellatrix wanted the deathly hallows and they were the only ones who were trying to stop her : they’d never dwelt on the end goal in sight becasue it would have distracted from their fight. it doesn’t matter but they’re allowed to wonder and it’s a perfect way to distract her, especially as her dark eyes find HERMIONE stood shakily halfway up the room and her lips twist, horribly. 

it’s obvious, when they think about it.

keep her talking and whoever does have the wand might just be able to escape with it. 

“you haven’t worked it out?” BELLATRIX sneers, a laugh bubbling up past her lips. “i suppose i expected too much of you. mudbloods don’t have stories of the hallows, do they?” 

HERMIONE’S mouth curls, but it’s RON, still stood at her side, who fires back with venom : “you’re just as mad as he was if you think that having the hallows makes you the master of death. he had all three and we still killed him-” 

when her wand stabs downwards, an electric shock runs through everyone gathered : RON even starts as if he’s about to dodge, though the flash of light that they’re all expecting does not come. a silencing charm. “don’t you dare use your filthy, traitorous tongue to speak of my lord.” there’s a threat to the lowness of these words. something that would not exist if she had yelled them.

“he’s right,” HERMIONE says. “he’s right. you have to know that-” 

another strike of the silencing charm, and she’s unable to finish what it is she intends to say. the charm wears off in seconds, but by then - 

“look around.” BELLATRIX all but coos. “look at where we are.” 

it had never occurred to any of them that they had been cornered here for a reason. the stone archway was a menacing sort of structure when it framed the wild woman that stood below, though the point of it seemed lost on a number of the unmasked faces still standing. BELLATRIX was gleeful about it. always one step ahead. “you know what happened here, of course,” she gestures the two she faces, though they aren’t the only ones present who had witnessed the tragedy that unfolded here, a decade before. “the way i killed sirius black-” his name is spat. “he just... fell through. i thought he’d come back, but he didn’t and after the war...- i saw it every night.” 

NELLIE’S gaze lands on GINNY’S and catches the glint of the second wand she still clutches, hidden by her side in the folds of a ruined ballgown. she juts her chin a little towards the door - go - and recognizes the hopelessness with which GINNY looks towards PERCY. i can’t. 

“i couldn’t understand. a stone archway that leads to nowhere and a set of magical artefacts that promise mastery of death and apparently, don’t follow through. neither was what they seemed to be.” 

the monologue has managed to force BELLATRIX into giving the perfect distraction : whoever had the wand - and most had failed to realize who that was - should have been making their way to the door. HERMIONE was willing them to make their way through it, with everything she had. with every passing second, their opening closed -

“i get it,” came a small voice, completely different to the grating of the older woman’s. eyes darted to the source and found LUNA. “i get it, now,” and it was as if she were conversing with a friend. her tone was light, her gaze directed to the other but looking right past her, looking towards the arch. no one else had managed to work it out, but if it were going to be anyone, they supposed, it would be LUNA. “you think that it’s a doorway. you think...- that they, the hallows, i mean- are the keys.” 

the penny dropped with a gasp that seemed to echo throughout the large room. 

"yes," BELLATRIX replies, and she turns to the archway with widened, mad eyes & the sort of expression in place that betrayed her wholehearted belief in the theory. "yes, i do." 

from inside of her cloak she extracts a folded bunch of silvery fabric easily recognizable as the invisibility cloak that harry had so often used with a number of the individuals who shared this space. BELLATRIX laid it on the floor before the arch, before slipping what could have perhaps been a wedding band from her ring finger. if someone was close enough they would be able to see the similarities ended at 'ring' : the dark stone set into it was cracked down the middle and looked like something that a costume jeweler would throw away, but the woman kissed it before setting it down atop the fabric of the cloak.

when she straightened up, once again, they knew from nothing more than the steel to her features that she was done explaining.

the chance to run had passed. 

"give me the wand," she said to the room, once again, "or i’ll kill percy weasley right here. the duel will begin again. we'll kill every last one of you until we find it." 

no one doubted her. 

"as if just you're going to let us go once you have it-" NELLIE started, not quite able to stop looking towards the CARROWS even as she addressed their leader. 

GINNY cut her off, sharply.

"I HAVE THE WAND. YOU CAN TAKE IT." her expression screams what she can’t say to everyone present : i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. "but i want my brother, first."

"you can have him when i'm holding the elder wand. otherwise-" the CARROW twins did not need to be told : they moved on what seemed to be nothing more than instinct, ALECTO'S wand held to PERCY'S throat, AMYCUS shifting to take the majority of his weight. it was so perfect it almost seemed rehearsed. "he dies. bring it to me.” 

"i-” she didn’t have a choice, she wanted to scream. it was percy. it was her brother. it was another son that molly could not lose, a larger than life figure she idolized even now, perfect percy, prefect percy, percy who forced her to drink pepperup potion when she looked a little peaky. she couldn't watch him die. not when she had the ability to stop it. nothing else mattered, she just-... she needed to save percy. "okay. okay. fine.” 

"ginny, no-"

( this, too, echoed. )

everyone looked to her in horror, but GINNY couldn't afford to dwell on those faces. nearest to her was DEAN and she didn't even have to open her mouth to ask - he moved warily past the death eater who stood woodenly nearby to her side and descended into the center of the room with her, every step carrying them closer to sure doom, every one of them putting her in hearing distance of another no murmured by one of their group- 

BELLATRIX was waiting, of course. her hand was outstretched. for all the world she looked like a mother, demanding a forbidden toy from an already-scolded-child : she likely had the patience of one, too. GINNY found that the closer she got to the four of them, the more her legs shook. she couldn't look the carrows in the eye as they moved closer, focusing instead on PERCY. 

one more chance. she only had one more chance. 

she realized, as she lifted the wand, that her palms were sweating, too. BELLATRIX didn't seem to care as she snatched it out of the air and turned on her heel, motioning for the CARROW twins to move forward. she and dean shrunk back on instinct alone, but aside from a look exchanged by the two of them and the curl of AMYCUS' lip, nothing happens but the exchange - PERCY into their waiting arms. 

before the arch, BELLATRIX is reciting latin. she doesn't know what she's saying. 

"we've got you," GINNY said, not bothering with the pointless question of are you okay. he couldn't be. "percy, we've got you. we're going to get you out of here-" 

"i don't believe our lady has excused you," AMYCUS' voice sends a shiver running down her spine. 

"i gave her the wand. we're taking my brother, and we're leaving-" 

"you're going to stay exactly where you are," BELLATRIX breaks her chanting to give what is undeniably a command. as always, the note of glee to her voice is clear as day. "all of you. my lord will want an audience for his return - and it'll be incredibly important for him to make an example of the mudbloods and traitors that stole the last six years from him." 

the latin begins anew.

they had never intended on allowing them their freedom, of course. no one present would have ever bought into such a promise if it were offered, but GINNY hadn't been thinking about that - just percy, and getting him out from between the carrows. she handed over the wand is if it were nothing. she gave her exactly what she needed, and she didn't want to take back that decision - she couldn't take it back, even if she did - but… 

"percy. percy, you're going to be alright." he was barely lucid. tears pricked her eyes and she squeezed him, tightly, just the once. it was her turn to take care of him. "i promise you're going to be alright."

DEAN took the brunt of his weight, as if he had been expecting it. maybe he had.

"NOW," GINNY shouted. 

she wasn't sure had anyone actually been prepared for this, or whether their duelling lessons had simply paid off. but as if they had been waiting for her, dumbledore's army sprang into immediate action - the wands of two death eaters soaring into the air before the opposing group had properly realized what was happening, and chaos erupting fresh once they did. 

NELLIE - brilliant nellie - hit AMYCUS with a stunner to the face. GINNY blasted ALECTO away from her with a quick everte statum before the older woman could react to her brother crumpling and threw herself towards BELLATRIX. she didn't even use her wand, at first - just tackled the other like she were a muggle football player, the two of them falling in a mess of limbs to the floor of the stone dais. 

HERMIONE & RON dodged a killing curse and a deep purple spell thrown their way by the nearest death eaters to them almost effortlessly. they parried the next few curses as they picked their way along the stone benches, closer and closer to PERCY & DEAN - 

it was hard to protect yourself and also try and protect a weasley who was almost completely limp. DEAN tripped over the first bench, threw a shield charm between them and a masked death eater they'd never know as RABASTAN, and was too slow when the next one - "engorgio skullus!" - came. it knocked him out, completely, his skull beginning to balloon in an unnatural sort of way even as he and PERCY fell.

LUNA reaches them at the same time as the duo, and NELLIE is not too far away, looming over ALICIA and duelling a death eater who's robes are in bloody ribbons all along their side. when she sees them below, injured but fighting, now, she breaks into a huge grin and calls, "half tempted to conjure some acromantulas, at this point." the need to crack a joke almost costs her dearly, but she ducks beneath a green spell a few shades too dark to be a killing curse. 

the rest of DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY, everyone still standing, is managing - just barely managing, but surviving. the death eaters, still outnumbering them, are somehow sloppier in their training, and a clear tendency is observed to go for brutality over anything that will inconvenience them enough to gain the upper hand. benches continue to explode and spells are hitting the walls, sparks cascading down upon them all, but they're holding their own.

on the dais, BELLATRIX and GINNY have struggled to their feet. the other - still breathlessly trying to chant latin, as if she cannot abandon the ritual she imagines herself casting - seems to have gotten there first and kicked GINNY'S wand from her hand - it sits a few feet away from her, too far to reach for, but GINNY lunges for the elder wand clenched in BELLATRIX'S hand instead. 

it happens in slow motion.

there is a brief struggle between the two, as one tries to hold onto the wand and the other tries to wrench it away from her, the two of them in constant danger of losing their balance again and toppling straight through the veil. 

and suddenly, there is a flash of green light. 

GINNY'S eyes go blank. 

she thinks there is a victorious cackle. 

maybe that’s just the ringing in her ears. 

everyone sees this & then : 

the world explodes into white light, and everything falls away.

✕     AT MALFOY MANOR ( guests inthe gardens, milling on the terrace, gazing at the sky from one of the balconies ) & ACROSS BRITAIN, a lunar eclipse is seen in the skies. 

[tnott]

[ Detention || Open ]

seventh year

Detention.

It was the last word any student wanted to hear on Alecto Carrow’s lips. Gone were the days of scrubbing bedpans or copying lines; this was the Dark Lord’s Hogwarts now, and the Carrows had replaced the old punishments with a full range of horrors. Beatings. Imprisonment. Torture, both magical and mundane. Detention was to be avoided at all costs.

But detention was exactly what Theo had heard when she’d gone to her mandatory Muggle Studies lesson that morning.

Miss Nott, Alecto Carrow had said, causing Theo to freeze in the doorway. I see you’ve decided to join us.

It was true that Theo had missed more than a few of Alecto Carrow’s classes. There was only so much blatant propaganda that she could sit through without wanting to vomit, and she was a quiet enough student that she’d figured she wouldn’t be missed – or if she was, that her assumed loyalty to the Dark Lord’s cause would protect her from any severe punishment.

She’d been wrong.

Detention, Miss Nott, Alecto had said. My brother will see to it. And if you choose to skip another one of my classes…well. Perhaps someone will have to have a talk with your father.

Already terrified by Alecto’s order, the veiled threat against Leontius Nott had sent Theo into a silent panic. After his failure at the Department of Mysteries, Theo’s father was already in precarious standing with the Dark Lord. If it seemed that his daughter was rebelling against the regime, he would almost certainly be punished.

White-faced and trembling, she’d sunken into her seat, trying to ignore the stares of her classmates. Several of her fellow Slytherins looked shocked and frightened. Thus far the Carrows had avoided punishing the children of the Dark Lord’s inner circle. But no longer; it seemed Alecto Carrow wanted to make an example, and she’d chosen Theo as her victim.

Not a single word of the lesson had penetrated her ears. She’d been too caught up in her dread of what would happen to her. Her next lesson was Amycus Carrow’s Dark Arts class. Would he make her one of his subjects?

She’d been shaking like an aspic by the time she’d arrived in the classroom, the other students still looking at her sidelong, some of them keeping themselves far away, as though her punishment might be contagious.

Within minutes, Theo’s fears were realized. Amycus Carrow had called her and Vincent Crabbe to the front of the room. And then Vincent – Vincent, whom she’d known since she was four years old – had lifted his wand, and her blood had boiled in her veins, and she had found herself wishing desperately for death to claim her instead.

One by one, her classmates had repeated the Cruciatus Curse, some with more enthusiasm than others, until Theo was left crumpled on the floor, gasping for breath as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Now she was deep in the dungeons, collapsed on a stone bench near a mouldering tapestry of Baba Yaga’s hut, sobbing uncontrollably and hoping against hope that none of the Carrows’ spies among the student body would find her here.

[shallowgravesrp]

“Books take you on a journey with characters who have their own stories and purpose, but how do you read it if you only judge the cover?”

Dirk Cresswell

Age: Twenty-Three

House: Hufflepuff

Affiliation: Neutral

Career: Assistant Head of the Goblin Liaison Office 

aesthetics: The smell of an old book. Butterscotch candies. Giant shelves of a library. Roaring crowds of a quidditch match. Scarfs. Sunday tea with the folks. People that make the heart skip. Stories from far off lands. Feeling of when peace arrives. Yellow and Black. Exploring a new world. Neatly organization office. Peacoats. Butterbeer. Taking new adventures. Nights out with friends. Fresh jar of ink. Meeting agendas with notes scribbled on the sides. Snow. Trees. Rooms filled with laughter.

what we all know: A quiet Hufflepuff, Dirk has never been one to involve himself in fights. Often, he just does what he can to survive. Even when he was in Hogwarts, Dirk stuck to what he needed to do to get through the day and then would keep to himself past that. Now working in the Ministry, it’s hard for him to keep to himself like he would prefer, but he makes it work. Something he doesn’t tell people about is the reason for him being quiet, is the trauma he faced in school. That when he says he was just trying to survive, it wasn’t an exaggeration, and those who did it in school have continued into adulthood.

For some people, the stories that they adored as children only seem to come to life in their heads, but for Dirk, his life was like it jumped off the pages of one of his mom’s books. Dirk is the only child of an English professor and author from Edinburgh. While they didn’t have much, they did what they could to make sure their son had everything he needed. What they did realize was that all Dirk wanted was to hear the stories they told him. He loved imagining what it would be like to fight pirates, travel to space, and even cast spells like a wizard. Dirk had never really cared that his family didn’t have a lot in terms of money or things, because they had a lot of fun together. There was so much more they could do with it just being them.

Something his parents hadn’t expected was the odd things their son could do. Small things that would happen around their son that they couldn’t explain. Even Dirk found himself questioning why he was suddenly lifting small objects without touching them or changing things without being near it. Eventually, the answer had arrived in the form of a visitor, someone who explained that the Cresswell’s son was a Wizard. Even without being born to a wizarding family, he still developed powers and would soon be eligible to go to a wizarding school for young witches and wizards. At first this was too much for his parents to process, but Dirk was in love. Suddenly he was given the chance to live out some of his favorite stories. He was given the chance to learn about all things that had to do with wizards. The young child almost couldn’t believe it was actually happening. As the man said, his letter arrived in the mail and soon he was off to what he believed to be a great adventure. 

Hogwarts was overwhelming for the young wizard. Going from one world where you knew how it worked to another world where you had no clue was more of a shack that he had anticipated. Especially when it came to the idea of a hat knowing who someone was and where to place them. Dirk himself had been placed in Hufflepuff, where he seemed to fit in with the other students perfectly. They all seemed to have similar ways of thinking to him, which helped when Dirk learned one of the hardest lessons of being a wizard. What Dirk hadn’t expected when joining the wizarding world was the hatred people felt towards wizards like him, towards muggle borns. Of course Dirk never could understand why someone hated a group of people so much. Muggles were just people living their lives like anyone else. There was no threat. Not only did he learn that people generally didn’t like muggles or muggle born wizards, but that they were willing to do anything to prove the point that they didn’t belong. Dirk had spent years being tormented and treated terribly over the years, traumatizing him a bit. However, with Dirk being who he was, he continued to try and power through as best he could. 

Lessons at first were a little difficult for Dirk. While other students had known about the wizarding world and some of the things that go with it, Dirk knew nothing. Everything was new to him, but eventually he started to get the hang of it. He was able to pass all of his lessons and even do fairly well on his tests, giving him the chance to do just about anything once he got out of school. Outside of lessons, Dirk did fairly well for himself. He was a Hufflepuff that made friends easily, and was open minded to others opinions. Even met some people who didn’t agree with the idea of muggle borns in the school, but still seemed to accept him as a friend once they moved passed it. Having met so many people through school gave Dirk some new perspectives on what it was to be a wizard, and potentially where he would go with his career. 

Finishing up his time at Hogwarts, Dirk now was left with the choice of what he wanted to do with his life. Of course he wasn’t going to leave this magical world behind, but he also wasn’t going to leave the muggle world behind. He made sure that he kept up with his family and friends from the world he was raised in, while also keeping a life going in the world he lived in now. Using his strengths to help his career, Dirk found himself working in the Goblin Liaison Office. He's naturally good at bringing people together and being able to form some sort of solution for those involved. Dirk was actually so good at this job, he quickly found himself becoming the Assistant Head of the office. His goal is to eventually become the Head of the office and see things between Goblins and Wizards become more civil, but that is a hope that will take a few years of work. 

One of the harder things for Dirk to cope with right now is the war that’s been brewing. People he knew in school, and those he now knows from the ministry, voicing how they believe Muggles should be rid of. People that could include his family and his friends, vanishing. With everything this war was bringing hitting home for him, Dirk found himself on the edge of trying to figure out what he wanted to do. Part of him actually wanted to help, wanting to fight, but he couldn’t help but think about what that could mean for his parents. He never told them about the war, not wanting to worry them, but he worried about them getting found, getting hurt, just because of who he was. So he decided to lay low. To keep to himself, but if someone were to pay close attention, they might find him providing some help to the side he believes in most.

EMMELINE VANCE - Dirk has been friends with Emmeline since she started working at the Ministry. She’s a good friend to him and he has always enjoyed her company. 

BERTHA JORKINS - Bertha is someone Dirk doesn’t understand. She’s always been a bit rude to him, even though he doesn’t really talk to her. He has no clue what he ever did to her, but maybe one day he’ll ask. 

AMYCUS CARROW - Amycus is one of the people that actually haunt Dirk’s dreams. He can’t actually prove that Amycus has ever come after him, but he can almost remember it happening. He’s so sure it was him, but what can you do with no proof?

CONNECTIONS DIRK CRESSWELL IS MENTIONED IN 

Dirk Cresswell is currently a CLOSED role with the faceclaim of Tom Holland. He is played by Admin Katie. 

[sleepingdragon-rp]

DRAGON POX HAS COME TO HOGWARTS ---

As of 10 am of the afternoon of Thursday, 2 April, Hogwarts has officially reported its first case of Dragon Pox in one hundred years. While the patient has been escorted to St. Mungo’s and treated with only the finest of care, the castle cannot ignore the threat of such a contagious disease. Hogwarts castle will be cleaned from tower to dungeon, from ceiling to floor, to eradicate any contagious germs that may have been left behind by the affected patient.

Unfortunately for students, that means that, in the meantime, they will be quarantined immediately. Everyone will be escorted by the staff into the nearest location in the castle that has seen no contact with the Dragon Pox patient in the past week. For the next 30 hours, students will have their food delivered to their quarantine site by the usual means, as well as accommodations for sleep when the time arrives.

If you believe yourself or one of your peers to be exhibiting any symptoms of Dragon Pox, contact a professor via the emergency only owl located in your quarantine location.

OOC Information ---

IC the quarantine lasts from approximately 10 am on Thursday, 2 April, to 4 pm on Friday, 3 April. OOC, you may make starters for this plot drop from now through Monday, 6 April, 11:59 pm PST.

If your character is missing, it is either because they are part-time, assumed to be off campus, or were simply overlooked. So if you would like one of those rules to be included, just shoot me a message, and we’ll find them a spot. Alternatively, if there is absolutely no way in freshly frozen purgatory that your character would be where they were placed, shoot me a message, and we’ll find a way to fix it.

Groups below the cut!

Group One: Hogwarts Library

The Restricted Section is, well, restricted still. Students have free reign of the library, but will be asked to sleep in the Muggle Studies section only.

Quarantined Students: 

Alecto Carrow @c-alecto

Amycus Carrow @theworstcarrow

Asher Avery @asheravery

Daphne Davenport @daphnedavenport

Josslyn Janks @jankyjosslyn

Mary Macdonald @marymacdonaldhadafarm

Rodolphus Lestrange @doctorlestranges

Than Chadwick @thanthemans

Tiberius McLaggen @tiberiusmclaggen

Group Two: Kitchens

As the kitchens are responsible for feeding the rest of the castle during this delicate window of time, quarantined students have been given the back third of the kitchen to work with. Of course, they can still ask a House Elf for assistance should they be lacking in basic necessities.

Quarantined Students:

Andromeda Black @andromedaatnight

Bellatrix Lestrange @bellathicclestrange

Gilbert Selwyn @gilbert-selwyn

Iris Selwyn @irisselwyn

Jana McLaggen @janamclaggen

Marlene McKinnon @marlenethemenace

Regan Higgs-Weasley @reganweasley

Ted Tonks @tonkstedtalk

Group Three: Rouge Staircase

This particular staircase shut down as students were on their way elsewhere, leaving them stranded without the aid of other staircases around them. The staircase will move from time to time, although unhelpfully.

Quarantined Students:

Alice Shafiq @shafiqalice

Amathera Zabini @amatherazabini

Bastian Bott @bastianbott

Jennifer Burke @jenniferburke

Lily Evans @weewxtch

Mason Boot @masonboot

Molly Macmillan @mollymacmillan

Nola Fawley @nolafawley

Group Four: Hagrid’s Hut

This was deemed the safest location for students spread across the grounds at the time of quarantine. Tragically, Hagrid was inside the castle at the time of quarantine, leaving his hut locked (with an infantile Fang howling inside).

Quarantined Students:

Agatha Timms @aggietimms

Dorcas Meadowes @dorcasisntdeadyet

D.W. Widdow @deedoubleiddow

Fabian Prewett @fabiansacharmer

Gawain Robards @goldenrobards

Natalya Greengrass @natalyagreengrass

Percy Robards @percivalrobards

Vivian Travers @viviantraversing

Group Five: Arithmancy Corridor

While students were initially meant to have full access to the corridor at large, the remembrance that the affected patient had been there for a studying section earlier in the week caused them all to be shuffled into Professor Dearborn’s office.

Quarantined Students:

Caradoc Dearborn @dickdowndearborn

Cecily Beckett @cecilybeckett

Eyen Sosa @eyenscloset

Gideon Prewett @gideonprewonder

Pandora Lanchance @rohmantiq

Penny Tyler @pentyler

Rosalind Nott @rosalindnott

Sturgis Podmore @sturgispodmore

Wendy Lestrange @wendythestrange

Group Six: Owlery

Don’t worry, the birds don’t bite. At least not when they’re well fed. By people who are currently in quarantine elsewhere in the castle. Oh, dear...

Quarantined Students:

Amelia Bones @liabones

Bertha Jorkins @berthajorkinss

Bertie Higgs @bertiehiggz

Emma Vanity @youresovanity

Emmeline Vance @emmelionvance

Remus Lupin @x-remus

Sirius Black @messrsblacks

Tolkien Wilde @tolkienwildeboy

Group Seven: Hospital Wing

It was considered that these students might be better off moving to another location for quarantine, but as they’d already been exposed before the doors to the Hospital Wing were locked---well, it would just be irresponsible to let them leave, wouldn’t it?

Quarantined Students:

Cyrus Greengrass @greengrassisgreener

Davey Gudgeon @daveygudgeon

Edgar Bones @edgarboned

Frances Bletchley @francesbletchley

James Potter @jamespooper

Narcissa Black @narcissablack-x

Peter Pettigrew @pterpettigrew

Zoe Bell @rocketshipbell

Group Eight: Potions Corridor

Students in the potions corridor have access to that and only that: the corridor. All classrooms, offices, and storage closets have been locked.

Quaratined Students:

Adrian Vallancourt @adrianvallancourt

Barty Crouch Jr. @bartycrouchjunior

Benjy Fenwick @notbenjyfenwick

Bilius Weasley @biliusbby

Briar Pritchard @briarpritch

Hattie Hathaway @skyehathaway

Hestia Jones @hestiajonesx

Hollie Hopkirk @holliehopkirk

Lucius Malfoy @ccnqueror

Group Nine: Muggle Studies Corridor

More specifically, Professor Egg’s office and adjoining live-in suite.

Quarantined Stuents:

Aiden McLaggen @aidenmclaggen

Danny Geist @dannygeist

Dawn Withey @dawnwitheyy

Frank Longbottom @franklongbooty

Marceaux Travers @xtravers

Nicholas Mulciber @mulcibers

Prija Avery @prijaavery

Zelda Nettles @zeldanettles

[88missmarauder88]

Sirius x Reader / Remus x Reader -- Part III

I feel like this part is wicked long, but I’m way too into this now, I can’t stop myself lol 

Tag List: @ideas-nocturnas , @evyiione , @a-hopeless-and-imaginative-girl , @intense-sneezing , @ghostlyrose2 , @peasantview , @la-fille-en-aiguilles , @toasterking , @too-involved , @onthebroadway

"All right, Prongsy; out with it."

"Keep your voice down, you pillock!"

"You've hardly said a word all day. You didn't even attempt to help me set Reg's tie on fire when he popped off about United. And Evans walked past you three times between classes, and you didn't do that daft shit with your hair once."

"As touched as I am by your concern, under the cloak on the way to the kitchens isn't really the best time for a chat, on account of how Filch isn’t deaf."

"Untwist your knickers. I checked the map before we left, he's out in the greenhouses, probably having a kip. So what's going on? Somebody book the pitch for the day you wanted tryouts? Is it because it was sticky toffee instead of treacle for pudding last night? Did you find out Evans is secretly betrothed to Amycus Carrow? Alecto?"

"Fuck's own sake! Would you shut it and tickle the pear already?"

"No amount of sexy talk is going to distract me from this."

James yanked the invisibility cloak off, shoving it into the waistband of his pyjama bottoms and shaking his head in frustration.

"You truly are the most obnoxious knobhead breathing. What any girl at this school sees in you is beyond me."

Sirius struck a regal pose and gestured up and down his body, then dodged as James aimed a foot at his shin.

"Well? You asked. A pretty face, a pile of money, and a seat at the Noble and Most Ancient Table at every banquet and ball from now until death do us part."

He reached out and wiggled a finger over the pear in the fruit bowl portrait, his smirk replaced by a sudden scowl.

"In other words, they don't see a goddamn thing in me. Just the candy coating."

James remained standing in the corridor after Sirius had yanked open the secret door to the kitchens and stalked inside. The past eight hours had been little more than a blur. He vaguely recalled stumbling up to the tower with significant help from Sirius and Peter. He also seemed to remember being deposited in an armchair near the windows after Remus announced that, as the Marauder with the strongest sense of smell, he was hereby granting himself the power of banishment over anyone who posed "a spewing threat". James didn't know how long he'd slept before he was woken by the sound of voices, but he wished like hell he'd stayed asleep.

He hadn't meant to spy on you and Lily. He'd wanted to stand up and announce himself as soon as he sussed out who was talking -- and, particularly, what they were talking about -- but he was afraid the two of you wouldn't believe him if he said he'd just woken. He'd thought about trying to crawl up to his dorm but knew that would look even worse if he was caught. As a last resort, he'd put a pillow over his head, but it was just too quiet in the room; he could still hear every word.

Admittedly, he'd taken the pillow down when you'd started talking about Sirius. Not to purposefully eavesdrop, but because he'd never heard you sound that way before. There was awe in your voice, excitement, and he knew it was subconscious. He knew it was honest. So now, here he was. For all intents and purposes, his "sister" was in love with his best friend. And James didn't know whether he should sit idly by and watch things play out or try to subtly do what he could to make sure everyone came out happy on the other side.

Why did you have to go and fall for Sirius? You weren't shallow or hung up on money and status like the girls Pads was talking about just a moment ago. But then... that was just it, wasn't it? You knew Sirius as well as James did. You knew the Sirius behind the aloof playboy mask he wore for everyone else. The wounded and lost yet still caring and kind boy who'd take the fall for his friends without a second thought, who was the first to step between them and anything that might cause them harm. From that perspective, not only could James see why, he frankly couldn't think of a better thing that could've happened to Sirius. He deserved someone who understood him and would take care of him, and James knew you could be that person.

But Sirius was complicated. Overly, even at the best of times. And James was worried about how he'd react if he knew. First off, there was the small matter of not knowing whether Sirius had similar feelings. He undoubtedly loved you as a friend, and he always seemed to be at ease with you. You were a perfect sparring partner when it came to both his smart mouth and his talent, and he flirted with you regularly... although, that wasn't much of a reliable indicator when it came to Sirius. He flirted with McGonagall and the Grey Lady just as often.

Secondly, Sirius was incredibly unpredictable. His parents had never done a good job of anything, save turning him into the most self-loathing person James knew. He never thought he "deserved" to be happy, settling instead for "entertained from a distance". And he didn't do well with emotions or letting people get too close, always afraid his family would find a way to take anything -- or anyone -- they knew was important to him away. So while part of James was telling him he should probably just stay out of the whole thing, another part insisted it couldn't hurt to feel everyone out. After all, what would become of the five of you if you confessed your feelings to Sirius and he didn't share them? And if Sirius didn't want this -- or couldn't handle it -- it sounded as if Remus might. You and Remus could be good for each other as well, James thought, and if Moony really was in love with you, he deserved the chance to let you know in his own way.

James jumped as Sirius kicked open the kitchen door.

"That's it! I know what's wrong with you, Prongs, my lad."

"Enlighten me."

"You've developed a crippling fear of house-elves. But fret not, I bravely stormed the kitchens with absolutely no help from you."

Sirius dropped onto a nearby bench, setting a sack full of food down beside him.

"What're you doing?" James asked. "We can't sit around here in the open, we need to get back."

"Not until you tell me what's going on. And look," he added, digging in the sack. "If you fess up like a good boy, there's a treacle tart of your very own in it for you!"

James slowly sat down on the bench, trying desperately to think of something, anything, he could use as an excuse for his mood. Then it dawned on him. All the rest aside, there was one portion of the early morning's events that would have had him on cloud nine all day if not for the awkwardness of everything else.

"Owing to the fact I was dumped in the common room like a sack of potatoes this morning, I accidentally overheard Y/N and Evans chatting. Evans told her she found me less 'disgusting and intolerable' these days."

"Ace!" Sirius yelped cheerfully, reaching over to violently ruffle James's mop of black hair. "Have to make sure this is properly mussed for when you ask her out at breakfast!"

"Keep... your bloody... voice down!" James hissed through his teeth, whacking Sirius's hand away from his head.

"Why so gloomy, then? I'd've thought you'd be bouncing off the walls over that."

James snatched the treacle tart out of Sirius's hand and took a large bite.

"Well, she followed it up with the fact that hating me less still means the majority of her hates me."

"Semantics. Y/N called that one; you're growing on her."

"Y/N did call that one. She's usually right about these things, isn't she. Good at reading people, I mean."

"She's got all our numbers, that's for sure." Sirius grinned to himself; James took note and continued to watch his face as Sirius munched absently on a sausage roll.

"Now we just need to get the numbers of these blokes who're always sniffing about. I saw Morgan chatting her up again in the courtyard yesterday."

Sirius shoved the last of the roll into his mouth and folded his arms over his chest, glaring at the floor.

"One would've thought a few Stinging Snowballs -- patent pending, Sirius Black, 1975 -- would've gotten the message across."

"Guess we'll have to start getting even more creative. Y'know, since it'll be worse this year."

Sirius looked up at James. "Worse?"

"Oh, sure. We're fifth years now. Before, we really only had to worry about the blokes in our year. Now, we're all fair game for fourth and up. Four years' worth of hormones stampeding around the castle like a rogue erumpent."

"Sons of bitches..."

James quickly took another bite of tart to stop himself grinning.

"Yeah, we'll have to keep our eyes open now. She's a real corker, and everybody's starting to notice it."

“I know she's a corker," Sirius pouted, crossing and recrossing his ankles anxiously. "Have since we were kids. So I guess Duane bloody Morgan's not all that swift on the uptake for a Ravenclaw, is he? She can't... she wouldn't really... she's not serious about these gits, she just went out with them to be polite. She's got to learn to say no to people is all. People who don't really care about her, I mean. The candy coating people."

This time, James didn't respond. Sirius was staring at the ground again, this time with something like sadness in his eyes, and James reckoned he'd learnt enough for one night. He stood and began unfolding the cloak.

"We'd never let her get hurt. Now, come on. Moony and Worm'll think we got nabbed."

James and Sirius made their way back to Gryffindor Tower, where the Marauders stayed awake for another hour or so, eating and playing Exploding Snap. Sirius didn't say much, and his appetite seemed to have disappeared. Eventually, the lamps were put out, and the room was soon filled with the sounds of deep breathing and occasional snores from Peter's bed. Only Sirius was awake to hear them. His thoughts racing along paths they'd never travelled before, he lay staring up at his canopy until first light came creeping through the space at the top of his curtains.

"Mr Black! If I have to remind you one more time that firewhisky does not, in fact, contain medicinal properties, I'm banning the lot of you."

Sirius reluctantly placed the flask in her waiting hand with a sigh. "I'd just hoped you of all people would be open to advancements in the field, Poppy, that's all."

Madam Pomfrey glared at him before making her way to another bed. "You're a doll for trying," you said to Sirius, propping yourself up on your elbows and watching as Pomfrey set about liberally applying lotion to the boy lying five beds down.

"Strange, don't you think, how Morgan managed to mistake poison ivy for betony leaves when he was trying to make that paste for his dog bite? Professor Sprout doesn't generally keep poison ivy in the greenhouses at all, much less where the betony usually is."

"We mustn't be too hard on her," Remus said, fixing his eyes on something suddenly interesting beyond the window behind your bed. "It could happen to the best of us."

"Strange, too, that he had a dog bite in the first place. I don't know that I've ever seen a dog on school grounds."

"You never know what sort of mad beasties are lurking about in the forest," Sirius said, lazily toying with a string on the hem of his Thin Lizzy shirt. Peter snorted, and James elbowed the boy in the ribs. "Gesundheit," he muttered as Peter doubled over.

You shook your head and dropped back onto your pillows with a smile. Taking a bludger to the head didn't typically fall under the category of a blessing, but in your case, it'd been close. In the fortnight since you'd confided in Lily, you'd tried your best to just put the entire mess out of your mind. But with Lily constantly asking if you'd talked to the boys yet and you working overtime to appear extra nonchalant whenever they were around, it was an impossible task. That fact was punctuated rather violently at tryouts: Your attention split between trying not to get caught staring at Sirius and worrying over what Remus and Lily were talking about in the stands, you'd had none left for the bludger one of the new beater candidates had missed.

You were out cold the rest of that night and all of yesterday. You woke this morning to the boys all chattering at once in their relief, pressing flowers and sweets -- and an immediately confiscated flask of firewhisky -- into your hands as Madam Pomfrey did her best to shoo them away. The ensuing few hours had felt blissfully ordinary. If it took blunt trauma to knock some sense into you, so be it. You glanced up at the sound of Remus and James arguing over the last of your Chocolate Frogs to see Sirius looking down at you with clear concern.

"Promise you're all right?"

"If you think I took it hard, you should see the bludger."

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards, but the wrinkle of worry remained between his brows.

"I should've been paying attention. I should've blocked it."

"Sirius, we weren't even in the same drill. I'm the one who wasn't paying attention. But I'm fine. Promise. She said I can go tonight after a few more potions."

You reached over to pat his arm reassuringly. Sirius looked at your hand for a moment before slowly placing his on top of it. You froze. Afraid to look up, you stared instead at his hand, willing your own not to tremble despite the fact every nerve in your body was. Your mouth had gone bone dry, and you licked your lips, trying to think of something to say. James and Remus were no longer bickering, and you could feel their eyes on the two of you. Panicked, you were about to pull your hand back when Sirius's squeezed down around it, moving it from his arm to the edge of your bed. He held it there while he reached into his robes. A moment later, you felt the cool metal of a flask sliding beneath your palm.

Sirius cleared his throat slightly before removing his hand from yours. But he didn't just lift it away; he slid it lightly down and off the edge of the bed, tracing the length of your hand with his fingertips as he went. You looked up. His eyes could have burnt a hole through you. And maybe they were; maybe that would explain the heat spreading like Fiendfyre through your entire body. Better that than acknowledge the fact that you knew you were blushing furiously, that all of them could see it, and that there wasn't a bloody thing you could do about it.

Mercifully, Sirius looked down, and you quickly tried to fill the silence.

"How many of those do you have in there?"

Sirius grinned and opened his robe just enough for you to catch a glint of silver.

"He cast Geminio on it," Peter snickered, and Remus heaved a sigh.

"I'm going to be the first prefect in Hogwarts history to be stripped of his badge within a month, aren't I."

Before anyone could answer, Madam Pomfrey's shrill voice cut through.

"Mr Black!"

"HOW DID YOU EVEN SEE THAT?!"

The matron came marching up the aisle, and Sirius quickly pulled the flask out of his pocket, holding it towards you.

"Cheers!" he said with a smile that thoroughly melted you; a genuine, sweet smile, the sort you remembered from when you were all kids and nothing was complicated. You returned it as you tapped your flask against his, and you both managed to get a couple of healthy swigs down before the flasks went flying out of your hands and into Pomfrey's. As soon as she touched them, two more flasks sprang into being, clattering to the floor.

"Out!!" she ordered, but the Marauders were already halfway to the door. "See you tonight!" James called over his shoulder as they disappeared into the corridor.

"Would it be too much to ask for you to exert a positive influence over your friends?" Madam Pomfrey asked, casting an exasperated look at you as she plunked a creamy purple potion down onto your side table.

"Sorry, Madam Pomfrey, but how terribly dull would that be?"

The corners of her mouth ghosted upwards for a split second before she side-eyed you and returned to Morgan.

"I assume our resident juvenile delinquents weren't leaving willingly," Lily's voice came from the doorway, and you turned as the girl approached your bed, a bag of Chocolate Cauldrons in her hand.

"Bless you," you said dramatically. She handed you the bag with a shrug. "Personally, I don't think these should be sold to anyone who isn't of age, but you've had a traumatic experience. A needless, easily preventable traumatic experience. How are you feeling?"

"Not up to arguing with you over the barbarity of Quidditch."

"Fair dinkum."

"And if you like, in future, you can get me toffees. To be honest, they're my favourites, but nobody knows that because nobody around here ever figures anyone wants anything ordinary. They remind me of my gran, though, and I love them."

"Noted. And that's sweet. Now, let's talk about the boys."

You groaned loudly. "Why don't you just use Crucio? At least it's quicker."

Lily stood and began plumping your pillows, her voice softening.

"I'm not trying to torture you. But don't think I don't know why you got hurt. You're not the seeker because of your awful reflexes. You've been miserable, and you're not going to be un-miserable until something changes. And I think you should know that neither Sirius nor Remus left your side the entire time. When Remus wasn't sitting here reading you Oscar Wilde, Sirius was trying to play you Led Zeppelin songs on his harmonica until Madam Pomfrey made him stop it."

You chuckled at the thought, but amusement was quickly replaced by the turmoil you were becoming so accustomed to when you thought of Remus reading one of your favourite authors. The tightness in your chest flooded back, the constant worry tying your stomach into knots.

"See?" Lily asked. "You can't even be happy for two seconds. So what went on after you woke up?"

You took a deep breath.

"Well... everything was basically normal for the most part, aside from the fact Morgan's over there because Sirius bit him in dog form and then they replaced one of the betony plants with poison ivy so he'd accidentally make a remedy out of it. They all think I don't know they're Animagi now so they can keep Remus company during his transformations, and that's because Remus told them not to involve me because he was too afraid that I'd get hurt, but I was incredibly offended by that, as you can imagine, so I did it over the summer. Became an Animagus, I mean. I really lucked out with the sky being clear the same night I finished with the leaf and it being really stormy for days after that. But they don't know that I've done it. Yet."

You paused for fear that if Lily's jaw dropped any further, it'd dislocate. "I was obviously going to tell you, Lily, there just hadn't been a good time yet."

"Yeah, and now was great," Lily sputtered. "I don't suppose the four of you are registered? Of course you're not, it's the four of you. And Remus is a prefect... I'm a prefect!" she shrieked, as if just remembering the fact. "How can you be sure it'll even work? Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? Do you care at all what will happen to all of you if you're caught?"

Lily buried her face in her hands, breathing heavily, and you remained quiet, allowing her to process. After a few moments, you reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Lily had been your walking, talking conscience for four years now, for all the good it did her, and while she usually managed to overcome her shock fairly quickly, you worried you might have finally found her breaking point. Finally, she exhaled loudly and gave you a weary look.

"What's Potter?"

You grinned. "A stag."

She contemplated a moment before raising her eyebrows and nodding in apparent approval.

"All right. We'll come back to that another time. So what happened that wasn't ‘basically normal’? As if any of that was normal..."

You chewed your bottom lip a moment before continuing. "Sirius had my hand because he was slipping a flask into it -- don't give me that look -- and when he took his hand away, he did it... really... tenderly? And then he was staring at me, and I know I was blushing. They all had to have seen. Remus had to have seen. Then, right before Madam Pomfrey chased them out, he smiled at me, and he looked so happy, Lily. Actually happy... and I can't let myself believe that it had anything to do with me, but Merlin, I wish it had something to do with me."

Lily hopped up onto the edge of your bed and pulled you into a hug. "Only your love story would be heavily sprinkled with illegal activity and alcohol. So you know you and Sirius have to talk, right? Because if it does have something to do with you, then you two need to figure yourselves out for your sakes and for Remus's."

"How am I supposed to do this, Lily? I know them both so well, they both know me so well... somebody is going to get hurt before this is over. How do you come back from that?"

Lily's eyes were suddenly faraway and sad, and her shoulders slumped. "I don't know how you come back from that," she whispered.

"Lily? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she murmured, straightening. "It's just a good question. Unfortunately, I don't think there's a good answer, though, so you have to just remember that people get over being temporarily hurt, but regret over things you should've done and didn't -- that doesn't go away. And love is worth taking all the risks in the world for. Now. Drink your potions, eat your Cauldrons, and I'll see you back in the room tonight."

"Think Y/N's out yet?" Peter asked.

"What does no one understand about not talking in the bloody corridors?!" James seethed. "This is a Cloak of In-vis-i-bil-i-ty. Not a Cloak of Soundproof...ness. When you talk, people CAN HEAR YOU!"

"Shhhh! Honestly, Prongs, would you stop that yelling? People could hear you."

"Fuck off, Padfoot. Dissendium."

The hump on the statue of Gunhilda of Gorsemoor sprung open, and, one by one, the Marauders hopped inside, sliding down into the tunnel below. The amount of stooping it took to navigate the space now that they were taller limited conversation to the occasional "Hurry up" and "That was my heel, you clod", and once they'd reached Honeydukes' cellar, they collapsed onto boxes to rest a bit before collecting sweets for what they'd elected to dub your "Welcome Back to Consciousness" party.

"I still can't believe she got clobbered like that," James said. "She's quick as a cat, that one."

"She wasn't looking," Peter said, digging around in an adjacent box of humbugs. "She was staring off at something when the bludger came back at her."

James rubbed the back of his neck. That explained it, then. He'd seen you staring at Sirius more than once during the drills.

"I thought I was going to be sick when she didn't wake up right away," he said. "I know she can take care of herself and all, but seeing her lying there in that bed just made me feel sort of..."

"Useless," said Remus.

"Helpless," Sirius said at the same time.

Remus was bouncing his leg up and down in agitation. Moony hadn't been this antsy in ages, and James was becoming increasingly distressed about knowing the reason why. He still believed Remus deserved a chance to talk to you about his feelings, but he'd also seen the way you and Sirius had looked at each other that afternoon in the hospital wing. You would never hurt Remus intentionally, but what if it was inevitable at this point?

"I need to say something," Remus remarked suddenly, and James tensed. He hadn't expected this.

"Say it later, yeah?" he suggested, abruptly standing. "We should get the sweets and get back."

"No, Prongs, I need to say it now. I need... advice, I guess? I don't know exactly... I feel like sort of an idiot, but--"

"Did you guys hear that?" James tried desperately. "I think there might be somebody upstairs, we really should get--"

"I think I'm in love with Y/N," Remus blurted.

Silence came down like a lead weight, and James quickly shot a glance at Sirius. He looked stricken, and James's heart sank. He'd still been in the process of trying to gauge Sirius's feelings, but everything that had happened in hospital the last two days combined with the panic in his eyes right now spoke volumes. James couldn't let his best mate suffer. Not when he knew the truth.

"I don't really know if I am or not, though... maybe I'm just being stupid, maybe it's hormones... fuck, why did I even say that, please forget I said that, I'm probably just imagining it, it's definitely not worth ruining a friendship over," Remus was stammering, clearly mortified.

"Moony... yeah, to be totally honest with you, mate, I really don't think--" James began, but Sirius cut him off.

"Nah, Moony, you can't think like that," he said, his voice quiet and unreadable. "If you think you love her, you should tell her. It's worth it. She's worth it."

James watched, stunned, as Sirius stared at the floor for a moment before standing and giving Remus's shoulder a pat. Without another word, he walked over to a shelf at the back of the cellar and grabbed a large bag of toffees before dropping back into the tunnel.

[caediteos]

cont. / amycus | @ghostonthird. 

             She was all bared teeth and untamable curls ; crimson lipstick long since smudged across cheek and chin. What would her husband think if he saw her like that? Served him right, really. What comes around goes around, or whichever way that saying went. “Shut you up,” she countered, half a smirk toying across her lips. “One way or another.” It was only half a threat. She brushed dark hair away from her forehead. “Do I strike you as someone who wants to have to explain why she took off with another man during a yule celebration party?”

            Dark brows raised in question before she, too, propped herself up, if only to watch him through her lashes. “Disappointed, hmm,” the witch drawled, tapping a nail against his chest. “That should be my line. You’ve done nothing to make me scream, after all.”