#Dumbledore: the answer may surprise you. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kquil · 2 months ago

Text

DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER SIX

06 : POTIONEER

CHPT. SUM. : Orion is furious at Sirius' sorting and demands he be resorted bringing you and Regulus with him to Hogwarts where you catch a glimpse of Remus and finally remember who Damcoles Belby is.

LENGTH : 13.1k

TAGS : domestic fluff ; mother-son moment between Sirius and reader ; Regulus is a precious baby ; Orion is a dickhead and a big baby ; fluff ; angst ; hurt/comfort ; Marauders becoming friends ; Damocles and Ruth are couple goals ; reader gets revenge for our baby.

TRIGGER WARNINGS : child abuse ; claustraphobia

← PREV. 05 : SIRIUS: FIRST DAY | SERIES M.LIST

3rd September 1971

The day before had gone relatively well. Sirius and the other first years in his classes were still fascinated by the castle and its magic so the tour and introductory first lessons in the afternoon went smoothly. The first years were adjusting well.

Today will be Sirius’ first full day of lessons and, although it’s daunting, his demeanour is exuberant. Knowing that he will be sharing classes with his new group of friends made him all the more excited. The previous night was spent mostly chatting with his dorm mates, being in bed by 10 pm but not sleeping until past midnight. It meant that he was down for breakfast later than what was ideal and to avoid worrying about rushing back to get ready in his dorm, Sirius made sure to get dressed and brought his book bag to breakfast. This was entirely Remus’ idea, which the boys were incredibly thankful to him for suggesting. The soft-spoken brunette was beginning to build a reputation for having a head full of sensible ideas, making up for what the rest of the group lacked.

Sirius was just about to finish his plateful and reach for a serving of freshly cut fruit when a shadow appeared over him. It was Argus Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts.

“Can I help you?” Sirius asks, managing to quell his alarm and brace himself for what may come. Surely he wasn’t in trouble for anything already — there couldn’t possibly be anything he could be guilty of. James, Peter, and Remus looked up in curiosity, also having the same unanswered questions on their faces, silently seeking some sort of response to calm their startled nerves.

“You’re needed at the Headmaster’s office,” Filch announces, his eyes gleaming with amusement at the sight of the group’s unanimous surprise and dread, although his expression remains largely dull and unimpressed.

“…just me?” Sirius dreaded to ask.

“Just you,”

“Why?” Sirius’ demand visibly irritates Filch but he answers nonetheless, happy to have done so when he’s rewarded with Sirius’ pale and ghostly expression — an explicit look of horror.

“Your father is here,” the edges of Filch’s lips seem to twitch but ultimately remain in a straight line, neither smirking nor frowning, “shouldn’t keep ‘im waitin’ now,” James was immediately vocal in his protests. He could tell that Sirius was petrified at the thought of his father and immediately assembled the pieces Sirius was willing to divulge the night before on his home life — his mother was supportive but his father was not. James’ bold protectiveness over Sirius was heartwarming, he never had anybody stand up for him against his father much like this. Primarily because not many were a witness to it and Sirius would like to keep it that way as much as possible. His mother protects him now but this was only recently. Before that, Sirius made sure to keep Regulus out of trouble, vowing to protect his little brother and avoid trouble for his sake alone. James’ display was refreshing and touched his heart. And it was what gave Sirius the strength to willingly go with Filch.

Despite the bubbling dread in his stomach, Sirius keeps his chin high as he’s escorted to Dumbledore’s office. Although fearful at first, the prospect of facing his father at Hogwarts made Sirius more angry than anything else. Yes, he was shocked and, in that shock, terrified, but for his father to behave so impudently by visiting Hogwarts was highly hypocritical when the man always demeaned Sirius and punished him whenever he behaved or spoke in a disorderly way. Their encounter was surely going to be an explosive one.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔݁ ˖

Orion was losing his patience. It wasn’t like him to act so brazenly but the current oddness of his wife had been provoking his displeasure. He’s been feeling the unpleasant bubbling for an entire month and endured it all. So it shouldn’t be a surprise that Sirius’ Gryffindor sorting finally made him blow up and throw about the house’s interior in a blind rage. Atop that, Orion had been even more disgraced but in his own home this time; his wife had ordered their filthy, useless house elf to move all her belongings into a spare bedroom.

They no longer shared a bed.

Imagine his surprise when, the following morning, he was greeted by his wife and son at the fireplace, ready to floo to Hogsmeade and journey to Hogwarts.

“Regulus and I will be having breakfast at the Three Broomsticks,” you announced firmly, reminding him of the early hour. He had the open invitation to join you both but Orion refused, demanding that the matter with Sirius was urgent and that there wasn’t any need for breakfast. But he should have listened to his wife. When he charged up to Hogwarts ahead and was greeted by Dumbledore, the wistful headmaster had him wait around until he was finished with his breakfast before Sirius was finally called for, requesting that the Squib caretaker do the retrieving. Now, Orion sat in the office with an empty stomach and only his anger fuelling him.

“I hope that your boy has had the time to eat his breakfast as well,” Orion looks at the headmaster, stopping his impatient foot tapping when he notices the mysterious gleam in the elderly wizard’s eyes, “we wouldn’t want him going to class with an empty stomach,”

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔݁ ˖

Orion was an idiot. You had an idiot for a husband. The thought made you roll your eyes and scoff irritably. Men were so pigheaded sometimes, do they even realise how annoying they can be?

Observing Regulus as he wiped the crumbs off his mouth with a napkin was all you needed to ease your mounting irritation, however. Your sons won’t grow up unpleasantly like that; you know that your boys will be true gentlemen, naturally, with their own personal idiosyncrasies but, unlike your foolish husband, they’ll be chivalrous, well-mannered and receptive, you’ll see to that personally. Orion won’t have any influence over them. This is your new life’s mission now.

“I’m all done now, Mother,” Regulus announces with a somewhat sheepish smile as you grin with amusement against the lip of your teacup. He knows he didn’t pay the best attention to his etiquette when devouring his plate of breakfast at The Three Broomsticks but you don’t seem to mind so maybe he’ll get away with it… Little did he know that you found him incredibly adorable and enjoyed the way he appeared more like a child his age for once.

“That’s good, dear,” your calm demeanour and slow actions makes slight panic flash in Regulus’ eyes. He’s concerned at the lack of action, the passing of time and the idea that he won’t be there when his father and brother meet, “we will keep our promise, Regulus, I assure you,” his endearing worry is met with your kind smile, “I’m sure Sirius is enjoying his breakfast right now too,” the growing smirk on your lips begins to reflect on your youngest, who immediately catches onto your cheekiness.

“I-I suppose father will be going without any breakfast then…” Regulus comments, taking a sip of his apple juice.

“Darling, who are we to get in the way of your father’s demands? He was ever so insistent,” an amused giggle passes between the two of you and Regulus is finally able to relax a bit. He makes a mental note to write about your uncharacteristic mischief to Sirius in an upcoming letter. He had been meaning to write a letter congratulating Sirius on his sorting but thought it better to voice in person instead after you invited him to Hogwarts under Orion’s furious insistence.

You took some minutes to enjoy the rest of your breakfast before announcing your departure.

“Come again soon, Mrs Black! Both you and your son are always welcome,” Madam Rosmerta shouts warmly as she waves you and Regulus off with the beer mug she had been polishing.

“Of course, Madam Rosmerta. Until then, take care!” you call back, smiling happily at the woman.

Unfortunately, you didn’t account for arriving at Hogwarts castle without a guide ready to escort you from the grand entrance to the Headmaster’s office. It was pure luck that you were spotted by one of your favourite characters and immediately taken to your destination.

“The headmaster speculated you’d be arriving here,” McGonagall spoke stiffly but warmly in her distinctive Scottish intonation. Following a brief introduction of all parties, she finally begins to lead you and Regulus to the Headmaster’s office. She looked much younger than she did in the films, yet to be worn down by the mischief the marauders cause only to be succeeded by the Weasley twins, coming to wreak the same havoc and closely followed by the golden trio. It was nice to see her modelling such a reliable and tenacious character before Dumbledore manipulates her into becoming hesitant and unreliable, inconstant with her trustworthiness amongst the students. This prestigious school deserved a headmaster who cared for their pupils equally, unswayed by bias – someone fair and trustworthy, not just powerful. In your eyes, that was McGonagall. And you were going to put her in that position yourself.

“I appreciate that, and I appreciate you coming to collect us,” you voice politely, offering a smile that she appeared taken aback by. She’s been influenced by the rumours as well. Walburga’s magisterial ways and elitism precede her. It was annoying. But, you’ll admit that it’s amusing to see the surprise on people’s faces when you distinguish all those claims personally. Not only are you making a new name for yourself but you also have the satisfaction of tarnishing the bitch in your head’s reputation. That was more fulfilling than anything.

“It is only the correct thing to do,”

“Are things always that black and white?” Minerva doesn’t know how to answer your sudden, cryptic comment and you have the slight mind to apologise for your loose lips. Not only was the deputy headmistress caught off guard by the question but she was dumbstruck by the question coming from you, the woman who openly expresses her abhor of muggle borns and blood ‘traitors’ — you and your bloodline were the most ‘black-and-white’ people in wizarding society. To say that McGonagall was speechless was an understatement. To her relief, you breeze past the comment entirely, “I apologise for my husband’s brash behaviour, it’s truly insufferable how audacious he is, sometimes,”

Clearing her throat, McGonagall goes for the professional response, although she was highly tempted to agree with you, “all parents have a right to have a say in their children’s education,”

“This goes beyond mere education, professor,” you look into her eyes and are met with agreement, “Surely, you can agree that the matter is useless kicking up such a fuss over and that my husband is entirely wrong. In this matter, I am right in saying he is being an idiot by publicly throwing a tantrum,” you tut in displeasure, “The humiliation of it all is almost unbearable,” at your side, you hear Regulus choke on his laughter and crack a smile, giving his small hand a light squeeze. Finally, McGonagall allows a smirk to stretch across her lips but before she can make any comment of agreement, you’ve already reached the gargoyle entrance to the Headmaster’s office.

“The password is ‘Pear Drops’,” With a wave of her hand, the gargoyles reveal a spiralling staircase to the Headmaster’s office, “good luck,” she nods at you and you watch as her expression softens ever so slightly to face Regulus and bid him a soft goodbye, “hopefully, our next meeting will be a more pleasant one, down by the great hall on your first year,” Regulus smiles and nods, waving her goodbye. She offers a smile to both of you and turns with a swift swish of her thick, draping robes. McGonagall never expected you to be so warm and pleasant —it’s easy to misjudge the character of a person simply from third-party accounts and retellings. She’ll have to rethink her own prejudices and biases moving forward.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔݁ ˖

Sirius hadn’t arrived yet. As soon as you sat down, Orion was already gritting his teeth, the squareness of his jaw making his frustrations obvious.

“I told you so,” you voice blankly and with an unamused face to match. Orion didn’t say a word — he couldn’t. He was already facing the consequences of his impatience as his stomach tried to eat itself from hunger. Dumbledore raises a questioning brow at the interaction but doesn’t say anything. Instead, the headmaster turns to Regulus with a kind smile and offers him the latest muggle sweet he’s grown a recent taste for, the password to his office, Pear Drops.

“Try some, my boy, I promise they’re a delight,” Regulus looks to you, silently asking for permission.

You smile softly and nod, “Go right ahead dear but you’ve had a rather hearty breakfast, why don’t you save it for a special treat later on?” Regulus nods and reaches for a small handful of the sweets to pocket in the meantime, however, his small, pale hand is smacked away by Orion who hisses angrily through clenched teeth.

“No son of mine dabbles in any muggle sweets — it’s unbecoming, Regulus!”

It was thankful that Orion was already clenching his teeth when you slapped him across the face or else he would have bitten straight through his tongue at the force of your firm hand.

“Touch my son again, and you’ll be falling from the tower without your wand, Orion,” you threaten through clenched teeth of your own as the man stares at you in wide-eyed shock, his expression reflected onto the Headmaster.

The reddening hand mark on your husband’s pale cheek isn’t nearly enough to contain your rage. Your shoulders and hands shake from the barely contained wrath bubbling in your veins, you don’t even register how your palm was stinging from the slap as well. Rather than divorcing the stinking pile of shit you have for a husband, you’ll end up murdering him instead. Regulus cuddling up to your side was the only thing able to extinguish the violent rage shooting through your bloodstream but seeing the reddening of his small hand from Orion was quickly reigniting the fire within you.

“You can’t just—” You don’t know what shameless words he planned on stitching together as a poor explanation of his actions but you were having none of it.

“Shut your mouth!” you hiss once more, eyes narrowing at him, “I said he could have some so he’s having some! How dare you publicly cause a commotion like this over Sirius’ sorting andhave the cheek to harm Regulus on top of that! And over muggle sweets?! Have some decorum, Orion! How embarrassing!” Orion appears to shrink in his seat as you lean over more and more with each word. You didn’t see it but Regulus no longer had tears lining the seams of his precious, silver eyes, instead, they were filled with glittering admiration and love at the sight of you defending him. If only Sirius could see their mother like this, he would no longer have any cause for worry about being away at Hogwarts while he stays home.

“Ahem!” All heads turn to the entrance where Sirius stares on at the scene, wide-eyed and with a delinquent smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. It isn’t until his eyes meet his father’s infuriated ones that Sirius finds the will to conceal his satisfaction. What he had just witnessed was admirable and a laugh desperately tried to push past his lips but he resisted; he was still on the chopping block for his father to rip apart. Although, knowing that you’re also here, eases Sirius’ worries.

“Sirius,” you breathe with a smile, your expression immediately warming up at the sight of your firstborn. It hasn’t even been a full three days since you’ve last seen him but the effects of missing him were substantial enough that you were able to easily decompress from your heated exchange with Orion.

“Get over here, boy,” Orion seethes through clenched teeth, his attention averted. Knowing that his son stood before him as a proud Gryffindor and without an ounce of regret for the shame he has befallen their family makes the patriarch clench his fist so hard that his knuckles turn a paper-white. Sirius doesn’t move, he doesn’t even spare him a glance and when Orion follows his son’s gaze, he’s surprised to note that his gaze is fixed on his mother.

“Feel free to take any available seat,” Dumbledore offers kindly, observing the scene with a curious glint in his eyes.

“Please come and sit with your brother and me, dear,” you barely finish your words before Sirius moves across the Headmaster’s office to sit beside Regulus, who has promptly pulled away from you to admire his brother.

“Thank you for arriving so promptly, Sirius,” Dumbledore begins, eyeing the substantial gap between the two parents before settling his twinkling gaze over the first year, “I hope your breakfast wasn’t interrupted too terribly by the sudden meeting,”

Sirius offers polite understanding over the disruption to his morning despite it only being the third day of school. At the sight of Sirius’ clenching and unclenching fists, you can tell that seeing his father was an annoyance, however, you’re proud of his ability to school his expression. He’s already grown up so much…

Giving a slow nod, Dumbledore directs everyone’s attention to Orion, who was barely holding himself together at the unnecessary —in his eyes only — exchange of pleasantries, “Your father has some troubles over your sorting,”

Sirius pays his father no mind as the pathetic man slams his hardened fist against Dumbledore’s wooden desk, “I DEMAND THAT THE SORTING BE REDONE! THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE!” the frightening volume of your reprehensible husband’s words makes Regulus’ shoulders shake but you and Sirius were there for him. Flanked on either side of the youngest, you were able to bring Regulus into your side for a comforting sideways embrace while Sirius reached over to console his brother by threading their fingers together and clasping his hand tightly. Regulus immediately begins to calm down and smiles to himself at the warm feeling of protection surrounding him.

“…It cannot be done, Mr Black,” Dumbledore states matter-of-factly in a serene voice that bodes no fear for the wrath of your husband.

“EXCUSE ME?! CLEARLY THIS WAS A MISTAKE—”

“The sorting hat makes no mistakes,” Dumbledore was so firm in his statement, that Orion was left stammering with disbelief. It makes you smirk with a sort of evil satisfaction. What will he say next?

“That’s impossible! For that tattered old thing to have made no mistakes whatsoever?!” Orion finally has the decency to lower his voice though, not by much.

“You are free to doubt the sorting hat as you wish Mr Black but it is indisputable and Sirius will not be resorted,”

“Of course not!” you pipe up, pinning your husband with a harsh glare, “For the sake of your own ego and pride, Orion, how could you demand such a thing? This whole fiasco is far more embarrassing than our son being sorted into the house of bravery and courage. Get over yourself. Our son will miss his lesson at this rate. I apologise, headmaster, for my husband’s shameful behaviour, I assure you that my son will behave far more gracefully,” turning away from your staggering husband and the amused headmaster, you look at Sirius with pride. Leaning over Regulus to press a kiss onto his older brother’s forehead he’s able to hear your tender whisper of pride, “I’m so proud of you, darling,”

You leave a humiliated, red-faced Orion to argue with Dumbledore, who handles the overgrown baby’s temper tantrum with grace. It was much appreciated and you were willing to applaud the old wizard if it weren’t for your existing hatred and secret plot to rid him of his position as headmaster. You’ve led Sirius and Regulus to stand quite a distance away from the two so that you could share a private moment, the attention mainly pointed towards your grinning firstborn.

“Have you received the gift I sent you?” you ask in a whisper as you hold Sirius in a loving embrace, his arms wrap around your shoulders and he presses his nose into your loose hair — you smell like a mixture of milky vanilla, calming lavender, fruity current and flowery jasmine, it’s not like any fragrance he’s ever smelled on you but he’s grown to find comfort in it. He nods and you silently ask for the pin’s whereabouts.

Sirius reaches into the breast pocket of his school robes, now embellished with the colours of Gryffindor, daring red and enchanting gold. He brings up his fist and unfurls his fingers to reveal the unworn pin. From the side, Regulus gasps at the beauty of such a small and intricate accessory. Smiling, you read off the personal message you engraved on the back before fastening the pin onto his grey cardigan, “A shield to protect my brave, daring and noble son,” you lean back and give him a once over. Sirius can see the visible lining of tears that gather at the edges of your waterline and his breath stills — it was one thing to read of your happiness and pride for his accomplishment at being sorted into Gryffindor but it was another thing entirely to hear the words from you firsthand and to watch as happy tears blur your vision. Sirius has never seen his mother be so happy and proud that she begins to tear up, Regulus hasn’t either and both stare at you in wonderment. Sirius feels as though he would begin to cry himself but refrains from doing so when Regulus looks at him with a bright grin and glimmering eyes of admiration. Regulus was proud and happy for him too…

Reaching forward, you pat down the lapels of Sirius’ robes, “goodness, you look so handsome in your school robes,” you share a breathless laugh with your bashful, first-year son before bringing him into another embrace. This one feels tighter, “are you truly my son? I can’t believe it!”

“Of course, I’m your son,” Sirius pouts into your shoulder, trying to counteract his glowing grin, somehow, but it’s no use; the urge to smile from the acceptance and the happiness was too overpowering.

“This feels like a dream…” you whisper into the air and Sirius is brought back to the time he witnessed the affectionate exchange between his mother and younger brother at the home library doorway. He remembers feeling his heart ache and clench before finally shattering into painfully sharp pieces, engulfed by spite and jealousy. But now… you were saying the same words to him…

“…a dream come true?” Sirius asks so softly and with much insecurity, you can’t help but squeeze him tighter.

“Yes!” you’re giddy with happiness and it’s infectious, even onto Regulus who was momentarily saddened at his older brother’s innocent wants and endurance, silently suffering from that fateful day at the Library, where everything had changed. While Regulus was floating on air from the merriment, his confident, protective and loving older brother was dealt a painful blow right to the heart. He wants to reach out and hug him tight and apologise for not noticing sooner.

“A dream come true, it’s just that.” you laugh again, “I still can’t believe it — you’re my son,” Sirius smiles as you cup his cherubic face with your gentle, loving hands. He’s stuck between jumping for joy and doing a happy dance but settles for shyly avoiding your gaze and smiling down at your wrists, where he witnesses your thumbs lovingly caressing his cheekbones in his periphery.

“I’m your son…”

“You’re my son…” you kiss his cheek and pull away. Regulus had been inching closer and closer throughout your interaction and you could practically taste his eagerness in the air, wanting to pull his older brother into a warm embrace, himself.

Happily, you allow the two to share a moment and they don’t waste any time holding one another tightly. “I can’t believe you’re a Gryffindor, Siri! Your pin looks so beautiful. Mother did a really good job with it. I wonder where she got it made and how… I hope I get one too…” Sirius, knowing the elation the pin had given him when he had first received it and even more when he read the personalised message engraved on the back, didn’t want to deprive his brother of the same feeling, not a single bit. Looking over at you, he meets your eyes and is immediately assured by the smile dancing on your lips.

“Of course, you’ll get a pin too, baby,” you seal the promise by pressing a kiss to the back of Regulus’ head, who spins around to face you so quickly, you fear he might have gotten whiplash but the smile on his face was enough assurance.

“Really, Mother?”

“Really really,”

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔݁ ˖

Sirius returns to the great hall with enough time to spare. His Gryffindor pin is proudly displayed on the chest of his cardigan as he finishes breakfast with his group of friends. Upon his return, they ask him the obvious questions.

“Is everything okay?

“What happened?”

“Are you alright?”

“What was the meeting about?”

Sirius could hardly answer anything from the flurry of overlapping voices and questions he was being bombarded with, other students were even beginning to look at him with curiosity after witnessing his departure with Filch. However, something in the distance catches his attention. The boys follow Sirius’s distracted gaze as soon as he turns away, not having answered a single query. At the open entrance of the great hall, they witness Orion’s scowling face pass swiftly, barely casting a glance at Sirius. He can’t believe his father is being so childish but it was satisfying to watch and listen to his mother treat him like a child too — a child who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Behind him, Regulus appears at your side, walking at a more leisurely pace. You and his little brother take a moment to lock eyes with him from the great hall entrance. Both of you smile and give him a small wave, leaving unhurriedly when he returns the gesture. But not before you blow him a kiss with a devious smile on your lips.

Despite the tender moment you shared in Dumbledore’s office, of course, you would still want to embarrass him in front of his friends! Sirius wasn’t mad though — it was quite reassuring to see a mischievous side to his mother.

“Th-that’s your mum?” Peter squeaks nervously. He’s heard of the ancient and noble Black family before. And he’s heard a lot about the notoriously disdainful patriarch and matriarch, Orion and Walburga Black so your uncharacteristic actions make him flounder, “I-I didn’t know your mother was capable of smiling like that…”

“Me neither,” Sirius replies with a grin, but I’m glad I know now.

“She’s pretty,” James comments, almost gushing as Remus nods along demurely, blushing down into his morning tea.

“Why did she look at me like that?…” Remus whispers against the lip of his teacup.

“What was that?” Sirius asks with a curious tilt of his head. He didn’t quite manage to catch what Remus had said but his muttering was enough to pique his interest. In his embarrassment and distracted thoughts from when you had blown him a kiss, Sirius failed to notice the way your gaze lingered on Remus, who noticed an unknown glint come to life in your eyes. “Remus?”

“—N-nothing! It was nothing… nevermind,”

4th September 1971

You can’t get over how adorable the marauders look as first years. They might as well be little babies, their cheeks still possess some youthful plumpness and they look ready to grow into their school robes with much more fullness. However, as adorable as you found them to be, you have much more important and urgent matters that need tending to. You can’t believe how you’d forgotten such an important detail until now but seeing Remus was what you needed for the pieces to finally fit together.

Damocles Belby. Inventor of the Wolfsbane potion in the 1990s. You aren’t sure about the exact year but it definitely wasn’t invented while Remus was in Hogwarts. That was why you were drawn to his quaint potions shop and why his name has been lingering in the back of your mind since that day.

Regulus didn’t have any classes with Peony today as it was Saturday and you weren’t entirely comfortable with leaving him alone as Orion was out on business. You didn’t hear of his departure personally, he had Kreacher come and notify you in his stead. He’s still being an overgrown baby about what happened in Hogwarts.

Dumbledore continued to refuse on the matter of Sirius’ re-sorting and firmly refused all attempts of bribery on your husband’s part. It was an unreasonable request and you were all sent out soon after so that Sirius could finish his breakfast and attend his lessons on time. Admittedly, it was better to receive the news from Kreacher rather than Orion. Despite the action being petty and out of anger, you were more than happy with the arrangement and you’ll be sure to return the gesture – whenever you want to relay a message to him, you’ll ask Kreacher for his assistance too.

Your droopy house elf sees the mischief in your eyes and immediately notices the lack of offence to Orion’s backhanded pettiness when he hiccuped through the message he was sent to deliver. His mistress has changed so much… though he cannot argue that most of the change was pleasant.

“I hope you’ll forgive me for arranging an outing so suddenly like this,” you sheepishly apologise, helping Regulus with his suspenders before he pulls his cardigan over his neatly pressed shirt.

“It’s okay, Mother,” he flashes you a precious grin, “I enjoy spending time with you like this,”

It was hard to resist his sweet words and you’re immediately pulling him into an embrace, pressing light kisses onto his face. Regulus flushes a bright pink when you squeal about how ‘sweet’ and ‘precious’ and ‘charming’ he was. You’ve become so much more affectionate and, even though it’s not an unpleasant change, Regulus still finds it hard to adapt to. However, he can’t say he wants to forget or take for granted the feeling of elation and warmth that floods his chest whenever you act lovingly — he’s always dreamed of receiving affection from his mother like this.

“Please never grow up my darling,” you sigh, already knowing the truth as you lead him to the fireplace where you’ll floo to Diagon Alley together, “but I suppose you’ll always be my little boy, so growing up won’t be too bad,” Regulus doesn’t openly admit that he wouldn’t mind being the way he is forever so long as you continue being such a wonderful mother.

“Where will we be going, Mother?” Regulus looks up at you with curious eyes upon exiting the fireplace soot-free. He’s already reaching for your hand so you don’t lose each other in the crowds.

“We’ll be visiting Mr Belby,” you smile fondly at the grin Regulus flashes you. He surely remembers the lovely couple owning the potion shop from when you went first-year shopping for Sirius.

“I know where that is,” he pipes up when you look around curiously, trying to map out your journey.

“Oh? Then do you mind leading me the way there, darling?”

“Of course, Mother, this way,” he steps forward and begins leading you along the cobblestone paths. Belby’s Potions and Ingredients was quite reserved compared to the other shops, which made it hard to distinguish, especially when it’s the weekend and more people are out and about.

“You’re so clever, thank you, darling,” you press a kiss onto the crown of Regulus’ head when he leads you beneath the hanging sign of the shop.

Regulus grins and his chest puffs out ever so slightly, “you’re welcome, Mother,”

Observing the shop in front of you, your brows furrow with worry, “why does it look closed?” despite the observation, you knock on the door while squinting through the empty shop windows. Their sign states they’re open from Monday to Friday between the hours of 8 am and 5 pm. “They should still be open, it’s only 11 o’clock in the morning…” you knock again with more insistence and shout through the door, worried for the couple. Regulus observes your panic with anxious eyes and begins to feel the distress melting into his thoughts and feelings. The Belby couple were lovely, they were good people that no misfortune should ever try to pollute so he dreads to think they’re in any trouble. Your knocks sound as if you were determined to break their door down just to get inside, you were tempted to cast ‘alohamora’ but there would be no use for that, you’ll be arrested for trying to commit ‘breaking and entering’ in broad daylight.

It wasn’t until Damocles himself seemingly appeared out of nowhere, looking dishevelled and sleep-deprived that you finally stopped knocking, “Madam Black,” Damocles acknowledges as soon as he opens the door to you and Regulus, “I’m afraid we’re closed for today,” to emphasise his point, he presses the closed sign onto the window of his shop’s door.

“Mr Belby, I apologise for being so demanding but this is urgent,” you try to argue, feeling the distant press of Regulus against your legs, his arms circling your waist for comfort. He doesn’t know what’s happening but to see his mother and the kind Mr Belby interact in such a state of distress made him nervous. This was so opposite to their first interaction at the shop.

“I-I’m afraid I have far more urgent matters to attend to as of this moment,” he reasons breathlessly, trying to close the door shut but you’re determined. Your mind has been set — not only were you going to help Sirius and Regulus but you were going to be there for Remus too.

“I insist that what I have to say to you is very important as well!”

Damocles incessantly shakes his head, his lips pressed into a thin line as his knuckles turn white from how hard he’s gripping his shop’s door handle, “my dearest Ruth is my top priority right now and she’s terribly sick at the moment, please — I’m sure this can wait!” with that, he slams the door shut, causing you and Regulus to flinch at the harsh sound. You didn’t want to hold off on the situation but you know when a line is drawn and Damocles’ insistent refusal of your entry was more than enough to tell you to back away.

His behaviour was rather odd, however. When you first met the man and his wife, they were beyond lovely. Both were incredibly welcoming and warm, looking down at Regulus, you see the confusion in his clear, steel-grey eyes also.

“Let's try again on Monday, darling,” Regulus nods at your suggestion. His small brows were furrowed with concern and he seemed hesitant to look away from you despite the smile of reassurance you give him. It warmed your heart seeing how troubled he was over your predicament with Mr Belby; you couldn’t resist kissing away the wrinkle between his brows, “don’t worry, my dear, patience is key when it comes to things like this,”

Giving one last lingering glance at Belby’s Potions and Ingredients, you redirect Regulus to Gringotts. It rose higher than any of the other buildings in Diagon Alley so it was relatively easy to spot and head towards. Before heading home for the day, you had one more errand to take care of.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔݁ ˖

Filgus was easy to spot, he was the goblin you immediately walked to upon entering the opulent establishment. His sharp, angular features help hold up a monocle over his right eye as a gold chain trails down to the breast pocket of his smart, black suit, though he wears no tie. His healthy head of silver hair is pushed back and tied into a small ponytail at the base of his neck. He looks much younger than his colleagues from the largely less wrinkled visage of his countenance, it was no wonder that entertained your previous request.

“Madam Black,” Filgus smiles at you, content with your polite, formal greeting. He smiles at Regulus too, who mirrors the goblin greeting at your side, “How may I help you?” he smirks beneath his long and pointed nose. Past the reflections of his monocle, you catch a faint gleam in his eyes, though you can’t comprehend exactly what emotion stands behind it. Was it excitement? Curiosity? Something else entirely, perhaps… “Will you be requesting another commission for our services?” you smile, finally understanding the look in his black, black eyes.

“Although I highly commend your metalsmith expertise, I am here for a different affair,“ your words pique Regulus’ interest and he begins to speculate whether you had the goblins make Sirius’ Gryffindor pin – it would be an incredible feat if you did, "I only hope to open two new vaults today,” your request eases Filgus’ posture and his action to lean back make you realise the full extent of his previous excitement. It almost makes you want to apologise for not meeting his expectations.

The first time you had come to him for a commission request, he had been surprised and you suppose he had been able to conceal his delight well but now his disappointment was more obvious. It made you want to giggle but you didn’t want to accidentally offend him or any of the other goblins nearby so you kept your amusement to yourself.

“That’s simple enough,”

“I want both vaults to have the same precautions and safeguards as the Black family vaults,” his quill stops momentarily as he makes a point of raising a brow at your specifications. A beat passes and he finishes off what he was writing.

“Who will these vaults be for?”

“They will be for my sons. One for Sirius Orion Black the third,” you reach over to wrap your arm around Regulus’ small shoulders, “and the other for Regulus Arcturus Black,”

“Unusual,” Filgus comments under his breath but makes his notes regardless of the uncommon application from the Black family matriarch herself. This was not tradition for ancient, noble wizarding families to create a separate vault entirely when they all simply shared one vault. The only reason for something like this to happen would be when someone was disowned by their family and are forced to start from a completely empty vault. Filgus looks up from the parchment he was writing on, only to meet eyes with Regulus who looks white as a ghost and frozen with fear. The sight makes the goblin chuckle under his breath and shakes his head subtly. Even if he wanted to, he had no words of comfort to offer the young wizard.

“I want the vaults for my sons to be entirely separate from the Black family vaults — nowhere near it,”

“Consider it done. The keys and paperwork will be delivered to you soon enough,”

“Thank you very much, Filgus,” you nod with a smile, “and I assure you that I will be back to request another commission soon enough,” he smirks beneath his pointed nose and his black eyes seem to light up despite their soulless darkness. He says nothing more as you lead Regulus out of Gringotts for the journey home.

Beside you, Regulus is filled with dread to the point that he feels sick. Getting a separate vault means only one thing and the realisation makes his eyes sting with globulous tears. Looking up at you, his mind flashes with all the happy memories you’ve shared with him and Sirius the past month or so — was that all just a lie? Were you such a good actor that you managed to babble that prideful speech to Sirius at Hogwarts on the spot? Did you always mean to disown them? But then why did you put so much effort into bonding with them like this? It’s too cruel…

“Darling!” you panic at the river of tears running down Regulus’ flushed cheeks. Stepping out of Gringotts, you were just about to ask Regulus if he’d fancy stopping by a sweet shop to bring something yummy home to indulge in and maybe get something for Kreacher too, only to be met by the pitiful image of your youngest sobbing and clinging onto the draping silhouette of your dress skirt. You sweep him up into your arms and move to a bench placed in a, somewhat, secluded location so that you can have a modicum of privacy. “Oh, sweetheart…” you coo and gently brush back his hair with your fingers, “please tell me what’s the matter so that I can help you feel better…” he mutters something incoherent under his breath and in between his hiccups but you ask him to repeat it as you couldn’t hear the first time.

“Y-you’re going to disown me and Sirius…“ he sobs before throwing himself at your lap and crying into your skirt, “Please don’t disown us, we’ll be good, I promise!” you couldn’t take hearing his tearful cries any longer and you scoop him up again so you could hug him tightly as he wraps his arms over your shoulders to sob into your neck, his legs wrapping around your waist.

‘Openly crying in public?! HOW DISGRACEFUL! LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO MY SONS YOU WRETCHED THING!’ Walburga screeches in your head but you’re quick to hush her up, completely ignoring her piggish squealing to focus on comforting Regulus. ‘THEY COULD HAVE BEEN TRAINED AND DISCIPLINED INTO HONOURABLE SONS BEFORE YOUR INFLUENCE BUT NOW IT’S COMPLETELY HOPELESS!’ She can rant and squeal and screech as much as she wants, you’re not responding to a single thing. Regulus was much more important right now.

You sit there with him, softly shushing his sobs and patting his back comfortingly as he cries and cries until his eyes run dry. In his panic and distress, Regulus wasn’t in the right headspace to listen to any consoling words you had to say so you waited. It wasn’t until the neckline of your black dress was made damp with Regulus’ tears that you finally whispered your consolation, he had managed to quiet down to small hiccups and shy sniffles.

“There is no way on earth that I would ever ever disown you or Sirius, let alone both of you,” you press a kiss to Regulus’ temple, blinking back your tears at the intense display of sadness from your usually mild-mannered son.

“B-but,” Regulus protests, pulling away to look at you with wide, swollen eyes, “you’ve created a separate vault for me and Sirius, that can only mean one thing…” he explains, making you realise your careless actions.

“Oh darling, I’m not disowning you at all…” you wipe your thumbs beneath his eyes, offering a sad, apologetic smile for having conveyed such confusing intentions, “I only wanted to make sure you and your brother had something to put your belongings in and have a place for your savings that nobody else can touch,” he tilts his head curiously at you, “it’s to set you and your brother up well for the future. These vaults are for your and your brother’s possessions only, nobody else’s. For now, I’ll have your keys and help you save up some galleons until you’re old enough. I know that we’re a very rich family but there’s no harm in having your own vaults so that you and your brother can start adulthood on a good foundation,”

“…th-that’s all?”

“That’s all,” you nuzzle his nose with your own and kiss his forehead, making him giggle — such a beautiful sound.

He throws his arms over your shoulders and gives you a tight squeeze, “Thank you, Mother,” you can hear the relief dripping from his voice and it makes your heart clench.

“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, darling,”

“It’s okay…” he whispers shyly, not wanting to pull away so you could witness the flush of embarrassment dusting his cheeks.

“Next time you’re worried about something, please talk to me, okay? I don’t want you to worry needlessly,”

Regulus nods and pulls away to grin brightly at you, “Okay!” you bought him a lot of sweets at the shops after that.

11th September 1971

You visited Belby’s Potions and Ingredients every day for the next week and it was always closed. After some time, you take the trips without Regulus, opting for going by yourself while he’s being tutored by Peony. Usually, you’d make your way home after realising there would be no signs of the couple appearing any time soon. There wasn’t a single light on behind the shop’s windows. Its interior was motionless, like a space suspended in time — nothing was out of place, it was merely still… and it stayed like that for an entire week.

An unhealthy amount of concern was beginning to build up in the pit of your stomach for the couple — perhaps Ruth’s illness the previous week was truly debilitating and when you remember your insensitivity, dominated by desperation, your chest constricts with shame atop the mounting anxiety. After your visit with Regulus, you had purchased a moon calendar and discovered that Remus would be experiencing his first transformation the following night and you suppose that realisation didn’t help your anxiety over the issue. He was going to be experiencing his first transformation so quickly, he barely would have settled into Hogwarts. For that sweet, kind and anxious boy, you were willing to do anything atop all the things you were already planning to do for Sirius and Regulus.

Belby’s Potions and Ingredients was just ahead now, the muscle memory of the journey there easily guiding your feet and allowing your mind to wonder about the young lycanthrope attending Hogwarts with your firstborn. You were anticipating another uneventful but worrisome visit, however, the sight of an ‘open’ sign hanging on the door made your heart stop. For a moment, you paused, frozen in place and took the time to digest what you were seeing in front of you. You have to confirm that it wasn’t a dream or an illusion that your mind conjured up in its noxious mixture of fret and despair.

No, this was real!

Pushing open the door, you rush inside and immediately call out to the potioneer, “Mr Belby! Mr Belby!” you meet the bearded man at his designated station behind the front counter. Beneath his eyes are the faintest trace of dark circles but he manages to smile at your bright demeanour.

“Good morning, Madam Black,” he greets, somewhat, cheerfully, “how may I help you today?”

With warmth in your eyes, you redirect his statement, “Actually, I was hoping to help you today…” as eager as you were to offer your aide and investment in the brilliant potioneer’s talents, his appearance was a sharp contrast to your first meeting that you were swamped with worry. Damocles gives an inquisitive look at your statement and prompts you for an explanation but it falls on deaf ears when you remember his words the previous week. “How is Ruth?” guilt tugs at your heartstrings and the emotion easily shows on your features, “Is she feeling better?”

Happy to divert from your earlier words in favour of his wife, Damocles smiles rather grimly and nods, “She has quite the weak constitution, especially after an episode,” he’s careful with his words and expertly continues despite his true emotions pleading to take control of his expressions. At times there’s an odd quirk in his smile or a misplaced dullness in his eyes — gone was the man you greeted at your first encounter. He looked poorly. Dishevelled and weighed down by something heavy. Someone so kind, loving and passionate about his work didn’t deserve such troubles.

“And it’s lasted an entire week?” you’re saddened by his confirming nod and hum, “Is she here? At the shop?” you don’t wait until he confirms nor denies; you’re already stepping towards an isolated but well-loved corner of the quaint shop.

“Madam Black…” a weak, melodious voice greets you. Approaching Ruth in her rocking chair, you offer a kind smile, happy to see her in, somewhat, good health. “I apologise that my illness has deprived the business of my husband,” she is humbly sheepish and her radiant countenance almost distracts you from her trembling hands. It isn’t a secret how devitalised she is but to still attempt her embroidery in her eroded state makes your chest tighten.

“I’m just happy you’re doing better,” you try to forget the careless words you had desperately shouted the week previous. It wasn’t your intention to be so insensitive and you wouldn’t dare wish any ill-will towards Ruth. The Belby couple are incredibly pleasant people and a treasure to have for company. You suppose that your eagerness to help Remus with his lycanthropy was too strong to resist – not only can you help Sirius and Regulus, but you can help many more of your beloved characters too.

“Thank you, Madam Black,” Ruth has the loveliest smile, it breaks your heart to know that she’s suffering from such a debilitating, chronic illness.

“I can’t imagine being as lovely as you despite needing a week to recover from an episode—” You pause and look upon Ruth with searching eyes. Aside from her face, she is covered head-to-toe in clothing. Leaning on the wall was a simple cane within her reach. And, if you weren’t mistaken, exactly a week before today, was a full moon…

“Ruth, my dear, your potion,” Damocles gently reminds, pulling out a phial of the iconic magenta healing potion. You recognise it immediately. It’s the same healing potion you’ve been forced to endure because of the degenerate bitch stuck in your head causing you to faint multiple times.

“Darling, you’re a wonderful potioneer but I’d rather not consume another healing potion right now. I’ll be sick, otherwise,” Ruth politely declines. Her attentive husband directly goes to protest but you’re quick to interfere.

“Mr Belby, when did you say Ruth had her episode?”

“Last week,” he answers nonchalantly, still entirely focused on his wife, who continues to resist his resolute demands of needing to drink the potion.

“That was a full moon…” the couple pause and a stillness consumes the space. It’s as if you’re suddenly in a vacuum, where time doesn’t exist and everything is at a standstill. “Is Ruth suffering from Lycanthropy?” you take care to keep any form of judgement out of your voice, your tone is neutral, your volume levelled and there isn’t a trace of disdain in your eyes. To avoid causing a huge stir, you try to keep neutral but a warm sadness and soft compassion manages to sneak onto your countenance.

“Ruth’s illness is not your concern, Madam Black,” Damocles’ voice is strong, commanding and protective. His firm stance as he partially stands in the way of his wife demands that you pull back and stay at a distance.

“Are you trying to find a cure?” you ask, completely impartial now and, almost, chillingly stoic. Damocles doesn’t answer. You glimpse their connected hands, their grip on each other is as strong as a tightly wound knot; it would be a struggle to pry them apart. “If you are, there isn’t a cure—”

“I WON’T STAND FOR ANY VERBALLY DEMEANING REMARKS AGAINST MY WIFE! GET OUT! YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE!”

“I haven’t said anything of the sort to Ruth…” you smile kindly at the potioneer and reach out your hand, “I want to help you,”

“HYPOCRITE!” his loud volume makes you immediately retract your hand. From her seat, Ruth places a gentle hand on her husband’s forearm, a silent plea to give you a chance. Damocles doesn’t fully yield his anger but, in respect of his wife, lowers his voice slightly, "You just denied that a cure could be made!” he can’t trust you. You are a Black, the matriarch, in fact — your entire family despise dark creatures, even those that were afflicted without their consent, much like his dearest. He won’t let you lay a finger on his wife.

“I said that only because that goal is too ambitious for the moment.” your comment makes Damocles pause, shocked but thoughtful, “I can’t encourage you to make a cure right away but I will support you in the endeavour to create a potion that will relieve the symptoms of Lycanthropy,”

“Support, how?”

“Funding?” you suggest, “I can help you get expensive ingredients. Or maybe I can help you with research? Or I can keep Ruth company while you focus on your work entirely? I can do all of that and more if you will only let me,”

The couple look at each other with curious eyes that also fill with fear and hope.

“…what do you hope to gain from this?” Damocles needed to know. He just couldn’t fathom that someone of such high standing in the wizarding world, who was infamous for her intolerance of dark creatures, muggles, half-bloods and everything that didn’t reflect her skewedimage of ‘pure’ was in favour of helping him, the husband to a lycanthrope.

“I have no ulterior motives… I only wish to turn over a new leaf and help those that I can,”

“I don’t believe you,” Damocles looks at you with suspicious eyes, narrowed and sharp. He is a contrasting image to the kind and warm man you first met at the counter on Sirius’ Hogwarts shopping day.

“Then believe that I also have someone…” you look at Ruth, meeting her gentle eyes with a soft stare, “Believe that I have someone I deeply care about and wish to help with their Lycanthropy too,” you’re unable to break eye contact with Ruth; she can comprehend the deep sorrow in your eyes along with a determination that cannot be rivalled. It connects with her deep down, making her heart ache with feelings of desperation and painful hope.

Damocles is torn. Ever since meeting his current wife, he has wanted nothing more than to use his expertise in potions to help her condition. It was an ambition he had been doing alone largely due to the prejudicial opinions surrounding Lycanthropy. It’s been years and his progress has barely been noticeable. All he’s been able to achieve are potions that barely have an effect. His recent potion was the most progress he’s ever made, where he was able to reduce her anxieties during the transformation. It was only thanks to the powdered moonstone he had managed to get a hold of. If he can have easy access to such valuable ingredients, his progression on the potion will be exponential. But he resists. He’s getting carried away by the excitement of possibilities, not only will he be helping his wife but he will have the opportunity to work with high-quality, precious ingredients again. He was a potioneer, not a businessman so his shop is barely keeping him and his wife afloat, their heads barely above the water of bills and necessities.

Ruth looks at her husband’s thoughtful countenance. She feels such guilt for burdening him with her condition but she doesn’t regret marrying him and promising to share the rest of her life with the kind man. Damocles makes the effort to always support her and assure her that he loves her regardless of her condition and affiliated insecurities. He loves her for her smile, her beautiful eyes, her delicious cooking, her kind heart, her precious love of books, her talent for embroidery, her loving words and the fact that he feels whole with her. The moment he said his vows and uttered the words ‘I do’, he had pledged to take care of her wholeheartedly and he intends to keep that promise, in the same fashion she does.

“Sweetheart…” Ruth pleads with her eyes, staring up at her husband as tears well up in their eyes. They don’t know your full intentions but they’re willing to do whatever it takes.

‘I want to take care of her,’

‘I want to be good to him’

“…alright, it’s a deal,”

You leave the store with the promise of visiting the Belby couple again soon, where you plan on catching up with Damocles’ progress and discuss future endeavours with the confidential project. The buzz and thrill pulse through your arterial system like an effusive river, unable to stop and eager to run its course all the way to its estuary but you don’t have one so the rush will have to calm on its own.

This was a step forward in helping Remus and Ruth as well as many more werewolves across the country. The week you were shut out of the shop because of Damocles’ absence, you’ve been relentlessly planning your future tactics. It’s led to further elaborations on your other plans as well as the inclusion of other entirely new plots. You not only have the power and insight to help your darling sons but a myriad of other characters as well. There wasn’t going to be a chance of you doing one without the other now. Everything is interconnected in this universe; if you help Remus, you’ll also be helping Sirius and Regulus. Everything connects to your beautiful sons — you weren’t going to neglect a single path forward. It’s ambitious but when has a challenge ever stopped you from moving forward somehow? Never.

Entering 12 Grimmauld Place, you were met with an eerie quietness. Searching for the time on the grandfather clock down the hall, you realise that Regulus would have finished his lesson a little while ago, nearing half an hour. The realisation jumpstarts your nerves and you’re rushing up the stairs to greet him at the Library; that’s where he usually goes to consolidate his lesson notes. You can vividly imagine him bent over a desk, carefully skimming over inky parchment as a plate of snacks and a cup of tea sit within arms reach of him, courtesy of Kreacher. When you peek into the Library, however, there isn’t a trace of Regulus anywhere. Where could he be? Regulus is fond of his routines and doesn’t normally stray from them, especially when it comes to his workflow study habits.

Why do I have a bad feeling?... You think to yourself, placing a trembling hand over your thundering heart. The silence around you is deafening now and you have to hold back on rampaging through the house. Orion is home… In situations like this, you must stay calm. If Orion has done something to Regulus, it’ll be best if he doesn’t know you’ve come home yet.

“Mistress! Mistress!” Kreacher appears out of thin air, tugging anxiously at his ears with eyes as wide as saucers. The panic in his watery gaze sets your own heart racing with apprehension. You already know what may be happening.

“Where is Regulus?”

“The vault, Mistress! The vault!”

You’ve never been in the very upper levels of the house before. It never felt worthy of exploration when you wanted to focus on your boys and the plans you’re slowly beginning to implement for them and the universe.

The uppermost floor of the house was an attic space that had the far end shut off as a separate room. This area must be due to some space-warping magic because the roof was flat from the outside but the ceiling of this large room had the typical triangular roof shape. Boxes and other miscellaneous items litter about the, otherwise, sparse area, providing plenty of nooks and crannies for spiders and other creepy-crawlies to make a home in. Kreacher stays by the skirt of your dress, trembling from restlessness as you lean further into the room. He informed you that Regulus was forcibly dragged up here by Orion as soon as he saw off Peony at the fireplace. Orion had been peacefully reading The Daily Prophet in an armchair in the corner of the living room. Regulus was jumped by his own father. The old dirtbag must still be incensed by Sirius’ sorting ceremony and what had occurred at the Headmaster’s office.

Narrowing your gaze, you focus on Orion, who leans against the locked door of the attic’s separate room. The iron wall that sectioned it off blended into the metal door that was firmly shut. From within that small, hollow, metal room came desperate banging, presumably from Regulus hitting the walls with his closed fists. The thought makes your hand clench around your wand tightly. This pathetic bastard has a death wish…

“If your brother had been sorted into Slytherin this wouldn’t be happening Regulus! How big of a disappointment the both of you are!”

“Father! I’m sorry!” Regulus’ pleading comes out muffled through the metal walls and door, you can barely hear him. It makes you want to hollow out your chest with the way your heart is relentlessly clenching down on itself.

“When you turn eleven and enter Hogwarts, you better be sorted into Slytherin OR ELSE YOU WILL BE IN FOR A WORLD OF PAIN! DO YOU HEAR ME?!”

“…n-no father…”

“WHAT WAS THAT?!!! REGULUS?!!!” Orion’s angry shout was met with silence and he punches the mental door in anger, the force making the structure shake, “ANSWER ME, BOY!”

“Flippendo!”you utter angrily under your breath with your wand raised at Orion’s turned back. The spell sends him flying forward with a startled scream. His head hits the metal door and he’s immediately knocked unconscious. You don’t wait a second further to rush forward and unlock the metal door. It takes a great amount of effort to pull open with its heftiness but maternal instincts make it as simple as opening any normal door.

“Mother!” Regulus cries at the sight of you from where he’s seated directly behind the door. The enclosed space was incredibly dark, there wasn’t a window anywhere. With the light filtering in past your silhouette, you looked like an angel sent to rescue him.

“Let's get you out of this horrid room, darling,” it’s hard to relax or temper your anger when you’re looking upon your trembling son who should only ever be smiling. You don’t want him spending a second longer in this horrible attic so you quickly lift him into your arms and rush him down to his room as he cries freely from relief.

You weren’t in a hurry to get Regulus settled beneath his blankets and tucked in; having him in your arms was a firm reassurance that he’s with you, safe and sound so you’re reluctant to let him go. Nevertheless, you get him settle him down and sit at his bedside before flicking your wand up. The gesture draws back the curtains to their furthest limits and opens up the windows to allow in some fresh air.

“You’re okay, darling. Mother’s here now…” you whisper, gently petting his forehead and combing back his inky curls. Beneath the covers, Regulus can’t seem to stop himself from shaking but enjoys the sunlight pouring in through the windows and the cooling breeze that caresses his pale, tear-streaked cheeks. He hasn’t said a single word and neither have you. His gaze remains transfixed on the open window where the blue skies are decorated with floating clouds. You watch as his anxious expression gradually loosens, unfurling into one without emotion. “My love?…” the tension in Regulus’ small shoulders and tight limbs melts away when your voice finally breaks through the ringing in his ears. “I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean to leave you home alone…”

His eyes flicker up to hold your gaze. He watches as tears gather at your waterline before spilling over in a cascade of glittering diamonds, created under the mounted pressure that was your love and panic for him and his wellbeing.

“Mother is so incredibly sorry,” you cradle his small hand in your own before pressing his palm against your tearful cheek. “Please forgive me, I promise I won’t let this happen ever again,”

You had nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t your fault. Regulus was frightened and shaken up by his father’s aggressive and malicious expression of contempt, you had done nothing. Regulus would willingly go through that all over again if it meant his father didn’t get to touch Sirius. For the longest time, Sirius had been his only protector and now he has you too. He can bear anything if it means keeping his older brother safe the same way he kept Regulus safe before you came to protect both of them. For the longest time, it felt as if they were the only two people who truly understood each other — it still largely feels that way — and that they were the only ones who knew how to protect each other properly. But that wasn’t the case anymore because they have you now. Beautiful, amazing, motherly you.

Oftentimes, Regulus would remember the day you had such a drastic personality change. It started normal despite the odd behaviour you had been partaking in leading up to that moment, spending more time in the private quarters meant only for the ladies of the Black family. It had been happening for weeks and the behaviour was odd but since it’s led to such a change of heart in you, the two brothers didn’t question it.

Here you are now, apologising for his father’s abuse and tearfully pleading for his forgiveness. Regulus never would have imagined witnessing the beautiful image of his mother expressing such sincere sorrow and guilt over his ailing form. The youngest Black thinks he could be dreaming, still back in that claustrophobic attic vault and conjuring up a hallucination to save himself from the mental turmoil the small space puts him through. Sirius had nothing to worry about when he left for Hogwarts because, no matter what, you’ll be there for him and Regulus, even if it means going against Orion.

“It’s okay, Mother,” Regulus softly smiles up at you, his brows furrowing slightly when his words make your tears pour out in more globulous amounts.

“This won’t happen again, I swear it,” you press a kiss against his small palm.

“I know,” the trust and belief Regulus has in you shines through in the glimmer of his eyes, catching the sunlight pouring in from his windows. With your heart stuttering in your chest, you pause before opening your arms and leaning forward to embrace his form through the blankets. “NO!”with a loud shout, Regulus pushes you away and presses his eyes tightly closed.

When Regulus opens his eyes again, you’re frozen in place with wide, shocked eyes. You don’t know what to do. In your chest, your heart breaks at the notion that Regulus doesn’t want to be touched by you but there’s a side of you that reassures his reaction is natural considering what he had just gone through. The conflicting emotions freeze up your limbs and leave you motionless, vulnerable to be swayed onto either side.

Realisation dawns on the youngest Black brother and a frightened gasp escapes him before he’s apologising profusely. Tears reappear at his waterline and threaten to spill over at the thought of pushing you away when all you wanted to do was comfort him. He needs to explain! He has to explain!

Please don’t hate me! Please don’t hate me! Pleasedon’thateme!

“I’m sorry, Mother!” Regulus reaches for your hand and squeezes it in between his own, “I-I don’t feel comfortable in tight spaces, I don’t want to be h-hugged right now,” you have reminded him and Sirius multiple times that they have the right to communicate their emotions, wants and needs. The important thing you always emphasised was that you would never be angry at them for doing that – Regulus is holding you to your word but waits with bated breath for your response.

His words were all the confirmation you needed to relax. Of course, that was what he was worried about most. How stupid and selfish of you to make this situation about yourself when Regulus had gone through something so traumatising.

“Don’t worry, my love, I should have been more considerate of you,” you carefully shush him and wipe away his silent tears, resisting the urge to lean in and take up more of his personal space, “please don’t cry, you have nothing to be sorry for…if you don’t feel comfortable with anything please tell me right away. I promise I won’t get angry or take offence,” you look into his eyes earnestly, reiterating the words you always reminded him and his brother of. It makes Regulus smile softly; you kept your word, “I only want you to be comfortable and happy, always, okay?”

Regulus calms down and nods affirmatively, his smile growing. You agree to hold his hand in silence while he falls asleep and relish being allowed to stay close despite what happened to him earlier. His hand is small but his grip is strong, he doesn’t seem to want to let go of your hand, even in his sleep. You will protect him forever and always.

While Regulus rests peacefully in his room, you carefully slip away from his hold to make dinner. His favourite. So is dessert. He’ll be eating all of his favourites for the next week and he’s getting spoiled rotten. As usual, Kreacher accompanies you and ambles about the kitchen under your precise instructions, however, you have a special task for him tonight.

“Is Orion still unconscious in the attic, Kreacher?” you ask monotonously.

“Y-yes mistress,“

“Good,” you chirp cheerfully, “Please move him to the bottom of the third staircase,” Kreacher gives you a curious look but doesn’t question your intentions.

“And then, mistress?”

“Leave him there,” in a blink, Kreacher had disappeared to do your bidding. The house elf doesn’t know what you have planned for the patriarch but knows it would be to avenge the young master. That was enough for Kreacher.

When Kreacher rejoins you in the kitchen to finish preparing Regulus’ dinner, you proceed to tell him that he move Orion to bed as soon as he wakes up. But only when he wakes up.

“Whatever the mistress says,” Kreacher nods.

When you bring up the trays for Regulus, he’s still peacefully asleep in bed so you place his food at his bedside and ask Kreacher to keep the meal warm by putting a spell on the plates like he often does with yours and the boys’ tea. It’s then that the wrinkly elf perks up and alerts you that Orion has awoken. Nodding briefly at him, he disappears with a snap of his fingers and you immediately know he’s gone to do as you’ve asked earlier on. While he does that, you fetch Orion’s dinner as well, which is simple tomato soup with garlic bread — it’s more than he deserves.

As soon as you enter the room with the food tray, you hear Orion muttering to himself bitterly as he sits up in bed, “Useless house elf, leaving me at the bottom of the stairs,”

“I told Kreacher to leave you there,” you explain gently as you approach his bedside.

“WHAT?!”

“Calm down, Orion, you’ll only hurt yourself more if you act so excited after just waking up,” as if on cue, Orion groans and falls back with a hand pressed against his temple, “See? Here, I’ve made dinner to help you feel better, eat it at your own pace,” it hurts you to smile at him after what he’s done to your sweet, precious Regulus but you have to be patient. You’ll bring the axe down on his neck soon. You can’t believe you were willing to settle for divorce alone but that’s not enough for someone like him. Now, you have something much more fitting in mind.

“Why did you tell Kreacher to leave me there?” Orion doesn’t take the food right away, only giving it a brief side-ways glance before trying to figure out what happened.

“It was for your safety. It looked like you hit your head and that’s a very sensitive place, I was worried that if he moved you, he’d end up carelessly hurting you even more and we don’t want that…”

With a huff, he deems your explanation decent enough and finally sits up again, reaching for his food. You smile even more, eagerly anticipating his replenishment on your home-cooked meal when he stops to ask something, “Did you have something to do with this?…” He gestures to his temple subtly, referring to his injury.

“Of course, I did,” you answer simply, ignoring the blend of shock and fury that consumes his expression, “I made sure your meal was very nutritious so you can heal properly,”

“That’s not what I—… never mind,” Orion sighs in defeat and slowly begins to eat in bed. He gives an occasional groan of protest, reaching up and making it obvious how uncomfortable his temple is, silently asking for additional attention and care. He’s not getting any of that from you. Rather, you quite enjoy his uncomfortable musings. You won’t take initiative, instead, you’ll wait until he explicitly asks for a healing potion before finally giving him one. You’ll ensure that Kreacher is informed of this too. He’s a mere house elf, after all, your stupid husband can’t expect Kreacher to make any helpful suggestions.

“Make sure to eat everything, it’s to help with your health, okay?” you leave him to finish off his meal alone, smiling all the way to Regulus’ room.

‘YOU PUT SOMETHING IN MY HUSBAND’S FOOD! I SAW IT!’ Walburga screeches in your head. For once, it comes out as music to your ears. The laxatives were from a muggle store so she has no clue what you’ve done.

‘Now, now Walburga,’ you inwardly voice in a patient and gentle tone, ‘Orion was very naughty doing that to Regulus while I was away. So kindly SHUT THE FUCK UP AND ENJOY THE SHOW YOU FOUL, EMACIATED, UGLY BITCH!’ that shuts her up nicely just as you’re about to enter Regulus’ bedroom again, smirking to yourself at Orion’s imminent doom.

‘Enjoy the explosive diarrhoea you disgusting prick,'

You also manage to bring up a second helping of food so you can eat together with Regulus when he finally wakes and has the appetite for dinner. In the meantime, you brought your notebook of plans to continue your scheming at Regulus’ desk. You had spent some time admiring his layout and the way he organises his stationery. He has quite a mature system in place for someone so young but it was something you admired — you can tell how incredibly bright his future is going to be just from seeing how he sets up his workplace. Truthfully, the set-up helped motivate you more, you want to preserve your youngest son’s hopes, dreams, happiness and everything about him so that he can live a fulfilled life — not even his desk will be touched by those with malicious intent or anyone that wanted to drag him down.

Your specific plans for tonight focus solely on the wolfsbane potion and trying to remember everything about it in your universe. From the corner of your eye, you have the perfect image of Regulus peacefully sleeping in bed, tucked up and cosy. There isn’t a single sign of terror to agitate his precious features, rather, he looks completely at peace. This is how he should always look. The image encourages you to push forward, trying to remember any bit of helpful information from your previous life as a Harry Potter fan. Even if the clue may seem unhelpful or completely made up, you write it down regardless.

‘All this and for what?!’ the nagging voice in the back of your head makes another appearance but you simply roll your eyes. If you give her more attention than she deserves, you’ll only spur her on more, ‘not only is my son part of that foolish house but you’re making such efforts for disgusting half-breeds! Ridiculous! Have you no shame?!’she screeches unpleasantly to the point of making your inner ears ache. However, it was at that moment that a thought occurred to you. It’s strange…very strange. Orion made his displeasure of Sirius’ sorting known the instant he heard the news but Walburga only voices her dissatisfaction now.

‘When I think about it… you didn’t freak out half as much as Orion when letters gossiping of Sirius’ sorting came. I was fully predicting a meltdown that would put me in a coma for a day or two,’ you internally voice, passing it off as an innocuous comment in the hopes that it leaves her naive to your true intentions.

‘Your sickening plans for that pin were too much of a distraction!’Walburga excuses as you keep quiet. If you interrupt her ramblings, you won’t be able to pick up on the reasoning behind her actions. It’s best to let her get ahead of herself, the fool, ‘Typical for a soft-hearted, feeble muggle like you! Celebrating such a dishonourable sorting ceremony result! It’s simply humiliating! Rather than that revolting pin, I sent that no good son of mine a howler the day after his sorting. Useless child! He’s no Black, he’s a no-good, mud-blood-loving, blood-traitor who likes to engage with half-breeds and is an utter disgrace to his family! Associating himself with that ‘light’ Potter family, engaging with filthy mudbloods and blood traitors — dirty! The lot of them! Regulus is my only good child, if only he hadn’t gotten himself killed trying to leave the organisation, he would have been my perfect son!’

‘H— How do you know that?…and how do you know about his ‘half-breed’ friend you vile piece of shit?’ as always, her disgusting attitude makes your blood boil on Remus’ and Ruth’s behalf. How dare she act so high and mighty when she’s the most unpleasant person to ever exist? She doesn’t answer your question, instead, she becomes eerily quiet once more. Scoffing at her cowardly departure from the conversation, you make an urgent annotation in your notebook. Hopefully, this will lead to some answers.

‘Investigate the first room you woke up in’

SERIES M.LIST | NEXT. 07 : INVESTIGATIONS →

A/N : This was longer than I intended but a lot has happened so I hope you enjoy the read regardless. I'm sorry for what happened to our baby but we'll be there for him as you were able to see. No way are we letting that slide nor are we going to let that happen any longer.

Thank you again to all the darlings who always show their love and support of this series, even though I adore writing it and planning future chapters, it's also really time-consuming and exhausting to keep up at points so it really means a lot when I see that you darlings enjoy the read and look forward to series updates.

please like, comment and reblog to show your support, i'd really appreciate it! property of kquil ; all written content is mine and no one else's unless stated otherwise ; do not steal, plagiarise, modify or translate to other sites

#sirius black #regulus black #the marauders era #marauders era #the black brothers #mother reader #marauders fix it fic #james potter #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #divorcing orion black series reblog #DOB series

276 notes · View notes

bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 1 year ago

Text

Chipper and Pleasant - S.Snape

Summary - When she got overwhelmed with the baby, Y/N went to who she knew could help, her husband Severus.

Pairings - Severus Snape x Wife!Reader

Warnings - Stress of a baby, use of Y/N, female reader, Snape is a girl dad

Author's Note - It took a bit because I've been so busy but she's here.

Based off this request from an anon! Thank you for the request!

my masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

The Hogwarts students only knew Severus Snape as a cold-hearted professor whose class was near impossible to pass. Even the other professors thought he was a hard ass but most of them had known why he was such a hard ass as well as cold. There were, however, only a small few people who truly knew Severus, one of them being his wife Y/N.

They had gotten married right out of Hogwarts, Severus never really understanding how love can change a life until he met her. And don’t even get him started on when his daughter was born. Even the students had noticed a slight change in attitude from the professor. They were never able to connect the dots until one day a woman and a baby walked through the great hall during dinner.

Y/N was having a hard time soothing their daughter, no matter what she did she couldn’t get the baby to stop crying. She was desperate and knew that Severus was the one that could calm her in a minute. The wailing of a baby made Severus’ head lift, knowing that it was his baby. He quickly got up and rushed over to his overwhelmed wife, gently taking the baby from her.

“Is she hurt? Are you hurt? Are you girls okay?” Severus rushed out as he cradled his daughter, looking both of his girls over.

“She just won’t stop crying Sev, no matter what I do she just won’t stop. I was just trying to clean the house and she started and I tried to feed her but nothing-”

“Okay, it’s okay love. Relax, take a breath,” He soothed his wife quickly before turning his attention to the baby in his arms. He noticed a tooth poking out from her gums, another right beside it. “I see the problem here. I have just the thing you need, my sweet girl.”

“What is it? She’s okay?”

“Her teeth are coming in, she’s hurting. I had a draught made up and ready for this. Come with me.” The couple was quick to leave the great hall, the second they left the students started to gossip about the scene they had just witnessed. Dumbledore allowed the students to discuss before interrupting.

“May I have your attention please,” He waited for the great hall to fall silent once more, “Thank you. I ask that you allow Professor Snape to tell you about what you have just witnessed rather than start rumors. He will tell you so do not push him to answer questions.”

The next morning, Severus had taken his daughter with him to his first classes to let his wife sleep for once. The baby was sleeping peacefully in a portable crib next to his desk. “Good morning, students. There are a lot of rumors going around so I’m going to debunk them. That woman is my wife and this baby is my child. Simple as that, let’s get on with the lesson.”

The day went by quite quickly, the couple being the main talk of the whole school. Everyone was surprised that Snape was a major softy when it came to his girls. They had never seen the broody professor smile so much, let alone ever. They had never heard him speak gently or with a shred of happiness until his girls showed up. They had started a petition to get his family to stay at Hogwarts with him because he turned out to be so pleasant with them around. The potions master turned out to be a happy man with his family who was there to stay with the go ahead from the headmaster. Severus Snape was no longer known as the broody and cold professor but now the chipper and pleasant professor.

#severus snape x reader #pro snape #professor snape #severus snape #harry potter #request #severus snape imagine #pro severus snape #severus #snape fandom #snape fanfiction #snape #severus snape fandom #severus snape x y/n #snape x reader #snape x y/n #snape x you

922 notes · View notes

cherryslyce · 2 years ago

Text

Second Son (III) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The school year begins and all seems lost when Undersecretary Umbridge is assigned as the new DADA professor. That is until Hermione and Ron approach Harry and Y/N with the idea to form Dumbledore's Army (Regulus disapproves, naturally).

Part II / Part IV / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Cursing, Not Canon Compliant

The talk with Sirius and Co. was tiresome. Actually, talk was a lenient way to put it, it was much more of an interrogation. Apparently, Sirius and Kreacher got into a spat (what a surprise) and the house elf let it slip that you had "found Master Regulus".

Hermione and Ron tried to dissuade Sirius from making it into a big deal, but alas they were unsuccessful (not to mention they wanted answers as well).

Luckily, Sirius had very little faith in Kreacher and you only told him that you found old photos of Regulus, and Kreacher happened to stumble upon your discovery.

Kreacher was very willing to corroborate your story in order to get back in your--Regulus‘, good graces.

For now, your explanation satisfied the others, but you knew that Harry had an idea that there was more to the story than you were letting on. Fortunately, Harry had always been a loyal friend and he wouldn't push you to tell him anything if you didn't want to.

It seemed you had a penchant for finding reliable friends.

Regulus was displeased with the turn of events and looked ready to scold a mournful Kreacher, but opted to just let out a disgruntled sigh.

"It doesn't matter anymore, I knew you'd be able to take care of it." Was what he told you after Kreacher left with a grateful cry.

Summer receded off the coast and autumn began to roll onto London, first painting the trees in kaleidoscopes of oranges before bringing tides of cool wind.

Your fifth year at Hogwarts was about to kick off and you were practically bouncing around at the prospect of being able to bring Regulus with you.

"Harry's hearing went just as I presumed it would."

"Oh? Looking to take up a post as Hogwarts Divination Professor, Reg?"

The boy merely rolled his eyes, deciding to grace you with the gift of an answer despite your smart mouth.

"It was obvious that Fudge would aim to discredit Harry. But, Dumbledore is quite the political force, and many are still willing to side with Harry even if they think he's lying about the Dark Lord. Harry may not feel it though. Bad press will always stand louder than uncertain support."

Ever the intellect.

"I guess so. Harry's still riled about it, but there's not much he can do since he was cleared of his charges. Merlin forbid he was expelled. I can't even imagine how dismal Hogwarts would be without everyone's favorite lion."

You continued to pack away your textbooks in your school trunk, murmuring tiredly under your breath at the idea of the inevitable increase in workload and the studying for O.W.L's.

"Are you excited?"

"Reg, you do understand that we face a new threat every single year, correct? Of course I'm excited."

There was no sarcasm in your tone, and you were being completely honest. Threats to your life would only serve to teach you further about the constraints and possibilities of magic. After all, you were certain the Dark Lord would stop at nothing until you were all dead, so you might as well learn as much as you can in the meantime.

"Just be cautious."

"Are you getting soft on me, Reggie? If you keep going I might think you actually care for me."

"Don't be daft, you know how I feel. Now, don't forget about the pouch I gave you."

You weren't going to antagonize him because you were almost certain he did care for you, but you weren't sure if you'd live long enough for him to actually tell you.

Reaching for the emerald green pouch laid atop your bed, you eagerly pulled it open. You never got the chance to examine its contents due to being interrogated by Sirius, but you were sure it was something important because of Regulus‘ insistence that you take it with you.

Reaching inside, you feel around the velvet interior until you feel something cool press against your fingertips.

Pulling it out, you gape as you realized it was a ring. A thick silver band with two snakes wrapping around it.

"Reg?"

"It's a gift. It was the ring I usually wore around in my youth. It's charmed to heat up when someone tries to use legilimency on you or when you're near poison. It served me well, now it will help you."

You twirl the band around your fingers and a small smile paints your lips as you try to suppress the burning in your eyes.

"Thank you Reg. I'm touched that you trust me so much with your possessions. I guess now I really have no excuse if I die."

"Exactly. So try your best--no, you have to live." His eyes were hard with conviction before they softened again when you nodded, "Good. You should put it on later, Sirius will definitely recognize it."

You couldn't find it in yourself to move on from Regulus‘ gift, even now as you were weaving around people.

The ring pressed gently against your chest as you walked with Harry down King's Cross, your new precious item was hidden away underneath your shirt on a necklace chain.

Regulus was tucked away inside your jacket like usual, the rectangular frame occasionally hitting against your ribs as you moved.

Sirius was paces away in his animagus form, too reluctant to let Harry leave with a simple goodbye at the door. You were happy that Harry had such a supportive adult figure in his life, but a part of you couldn't help but want him to leave quickly so you could slip on the ring.

The dog-man quickly trotted into an empty seating room, Harry leaving your side to talk to his godfather. As Moody and Tonks guarded the doorway of the room, you opted to give the aurors a brief nod before making your way to the platform first.

You admired them both to a varying degree, but you couldn't quite warm up to Moody after your Fourth Year debacle with his death eater imposter.

It was still hard to get the image of him, or rather the image of polyjuice him, making Neville uncomfortable in class.

Navigating your way around the swarm of people, soon you found yourself on the familiar platform.

Reaching into your shirt, you pulled out your necklace chain, twirling it around your neck before unclasping it and sliding Regulus‘ ring out.

It was a pretty thing, and you found yourself imagining the two snakes on the band as you and Regulus.

Propping your trunk up against one of the brick pillars, you fix your necklace before slipping the ring onto your left index finger, spelling it to fit you.

Thank merlin for magic.

Raising your hand up towards the sky, you observe the way the sunlight reflects off the silver. As you continued to admire it, you realized that someone's stopped beside you.

"Merlin! Harry?!"

The boy in question jumps at your exclamation, the distant look in his eyes being drowned out by realization. It was apparent that he was only present enough to recognize you in the crowd, but too lost in thought to realize what was going on.

"Oh, sorry. Should we board now?"

Without waiting for an answer, he reaches behind you and lugs your trunk behind him, starting to get lost in his head again as he walks towards the train.

As the both of you sit and wait for Hermione and Ron, he wordlessly reaches into his pocket, pulling out a folded photo. He hands it to you with a forlorn look in his eyes, watching as you carefully unfold the paper.

Are those?

As if reading your thoughts, he supplies you with a quiet answer, "My parents. And the Order."

"Fuck. From Sirius?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck."

Running your finger over the smiling faces of Lily and James Potter, you send a silent thank you for their sacrifice.

Your concern for Harry only ceased once you arrived at the castle.

Sitting down in the dining hall brought a surge of serotonin through your body. It was the closest thing you had to a home and being able to greet the cold walls and aged windows after every summer brought you great joy.

Looking in Harry's direction, you frown in concern as you see him eyeing the staff table in shock. Your confusion is swept away as a high-pitched voice cuts through Dumbledore's welcome speech.

A woman who was strangely reminiscent of a toad carefully made her way around the table and towards Dumbledore. From the way Harry began to furiously whisper to Hermione, you were certain that she was the reason for his sudden change in behavior.

Dumbledore and Snape looked faintly displeased with her interruption and your eyes started to hurt from the abomination of pink monotone that made her stand out.

You had an unfortunate feeling that the source of your fifth year misery had arrived.

And you were correct. Of course.

It had only been a week into your classes and you were seething violently, much like the rest of your friends.

"And do you know what she said Reggie?"

"What?" He mused in curiosity, his eyes alight at your foreign frustration.

"We're only going to be learning the theories! Because apparently if we know the theories well enough, the application of spells will just magically come to us!"

Your hands were flying around wildly as you recalled her words, your body bouncing around on your bed due to your gestures.

Regulus chuckled at your despair, eyes twinkling brightly like he had just received the best news of his life.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it off. I'm glad my misery is enjoyable to you, but I'm being serious! I just don't know what we should do! The DADA curse is really screwing us over here."

Seeming to take pity on your genuine distress, he begins to placate you, "Y/N, it's fine. I'll teach you if you want. Just tell me what spells and theories you're covering and I'll guide you."

Oh?

The grin that stretches across your face almost hurts and you fall back onto your bed, letting his offer run around your head with a content sigh.

"Y/N? Have you died?"

"Still here." Your answer comes out muffled as you bring your hand to cover your bright smile.

"Don't seem too happy, I'm a strict teacher."

"Yeah, yeah. Reg. I could kiss you right now! Seriously, thank you, you're too good to me."

Regulus doesn't respond to your words and he was sure that you weren't even aware of what you were saying, but he was glad you couldn't hear the way his heart was racing.

"No matter, just get some sleep."

"Hm? What will you do then? It's still pretty early."

"I'll just watch over you like always. Prop me up on your nightstand would you, I want to see outside."

"Yes, yes. Anything else you require my liege?" Your teasing is met with a deadpan look as you carefully rest his portrait frame against the stack of books on your nightstand.

"Y/N, sleep."

You let out an indignant huff and turn your body towards your bedside, facing Regulus as he begins to gaze outside your dorm window. Luckily, your nightstand was on the far end of the dorm room and would be out of view from anyone coming through.

"Goodnight, Reg."

"Sweet dreams, Y/N."

Luckily, slumber came quickly that night.

You should have known that your brief period of rest would soon be interrupted. It was basically the first warning that came attached to being involved with the Golden Trio. You just didn't realize that your peace would be disturbed the very next day.

"Are you positive that this is a great idea?"

"If Umbridge refuses to teach us, we need someone who will."

You stare at Hermione in consideration, "And that person is Harry?"

She nods confidently, her eyes blazing in determination. Clearly, they were going to move forward with this plan whether or not you were in.

"Okay. So Hog's Head then?"

"Yes. We can't possibly manage to keep this under wraps inside the castle walls. We'll come by and get you tomorrow."

"Merlin ‘Mione. I hope that this turns out well. For all of our sakes."

"It has to. Sirius said it himself, You Know Who is on the move."

Bloody Dark Lord and his murderous agenda spoiling your years of childhood.

There wasn't much that needed to be said after that and you both bid each other a quick farewell. You quickly headed to your dorm and let out a sigh of relief to see the room empty.

Plopping down on your bed, you flip open the charms textbook Regulus recommended, eyes darting around for a possible communication charm.

This was going to take forever, might as well get some help.

Fishing around your robes, you pull out Regulus‘ portrait and beam down at his unimpressed face.

"There's no way you're actually considering running along with that ragtag defense club now, are you?" Isn't he just pleasant today.

"Nice to see you too, Reg. Hermione's idea sounds interesting enough, besides friends need to support each other's endeavors."

Regulus looked like he was a few moments away from releasing a snort, but just shook his head. His neat curls jumped around his face and you had to stop yourself from getting too entranced by the sight.

"I suppose that makes sense, after all I would do the same for you. Though, you are already learning from me, no?" Regulus‘ words made your heart skip a beat, but you tried your best to play it off.

"Yes, and as much as I love Harry, you will always be my number one teacher." He looked all too pleased by your words and you shook your head fondly, "Don't let it get to your head though. Now, let's read through this book together, shall we?"

And as you both read through the pages of the book, you couldn't help but selfishly want more. You couldn't help but wonder how different everything would be if Regulus wasn't a portrait, but rather alive and well and attending Hogwarts with you.

It just added to your fury towards Voldemort. He had taken enough from the world, and you couldn't wait to drive a curse through him and live the rest of your life in peace.

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black imagine #regulus black imagines #regulus black fluff #regulus x reader #regulus black scenario #regulus black deserved better #regulus black series #harry potter series #harry potter and the order of the phoenix #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #regulus black fanfiction #the noble house of black #sirius black #hermione granger #ronald weasley

1K notes · View notes

lulublack90 · 7 months ago

Text

Prompt 31 - Second Chances

@wolfstarmicrofic May 31, word count 996

Second part to Prompt 30 - Breakup

His body was shaking from head to toe. Sirius was gone. Sirius had left him all because Dumbledore had forbidden him from telling him about what his true purpose in the Order was.

“ARGH!!!!!” He screamed into the empty flat as tears began to stream down his face. He’d had enough of this, he wasn’t going to lose the love of his life to keep the secrets of a dotty old man.

He stormed out of the flat and apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. The walk-up to the castle took so much longer than Remus remembered. Dumbledore was waiting for him at the castle's entrance.

“Good evening Remus,” The headmaster asked calmly.

“We need to talk,” Remus tried to say evenly, but it came out sharper than he meant.

“This way, Mr Lupin,” Dumbledore turned and led him into the school. Dumbledore led him into the great hall and into a small room off to the side. “What can I do for you?” Dumbledore asked.

Remus stole himself, he wasn’t going to lose Sirius.

“I need to tell Sirius,”

“No,” Dumbledore said bluntly.

“It’s not a discussion, Albus. I am telling him.” He spat back.

“Why now?” The headmaster asked curiously.

“He left me because you made me lie to him, and he knew I was lying.” He looked Dumbledore dead in the eyes. “I refuse to lose him because of you,”

He was surprised when Dumbledore nodded in agreement.

“He will need to make an unbreakable vow,” Dumbledore told him. Remus felt a small drop of hope form within him.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you." He turned and almost ran out the door.

“Oh, Remus, before you go,” Remus looked back at the headmaster’s serious face. “Sirius is the only one you may tell and only if you fully trust him. Remember there is a spy amongst us.”

“It’s not him,” Remus snarled. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard that. “It’s not him,” He said again firmly, as he sped through the doors before Dumbledore could say anything else. That had been far too easy, but Remus didn’t have time to figure out what the old wizard was up to, he had a relationship to save.

***

He arrived outside the Potter’s house. It was the only place Sirius would go. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. James answered.

“Remus!” James choked out. “Er, I don’t think this is the best time.”

“Let me in, James,” Remus ordered. James exhaled a long breath and dragged his hand through his hair, making it stick up on end. He moved aside and let Remus in.

Sirius was curled up on the sofa with Lily’s arms wrapped around him and a cup of tea in his hands. Lily turned first, her eyes widening when she saw him.

“Sirius,” His voice was croaky as it filled with emotion. He cleared it. “Sirius, please, can we talk? I need to tell you why.” He waited and waited, praying that Sirius would give him a second chance. Sirius slowly turned his head. The skin around his eyes was puffy and red. He must have been crying all night. “Please,” He whispered. He could see all the hurt on Sirius’s face, but he nodded and Remus let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

“It’s okay, Lily.” Sirius patted her leg. Lily turned on Remus as Sirius unwrapped himself from the blanket.

“If you hurt him again you’ll have me to answer to,” She warned. Remus wasn’t prepared to cross Lily Potter. He may be a werewolf, but she was scarier than he’d ever been if she thought her loved ones were in trouble.

“Can we go back to the flat?” Remus suggested. Sirius looked at James and, after having a silent conversation, Sirius looked back at Remus and nodded.

Sirius walked out of the house after hugging Lily and James. Remus followed.

Back at the flat, Sirius stared at him with his arms folded across his chest. He didn’t look angry, he looked unsure.

“Sirius,” Remus moved to touch him, but Sirius flinched away from him. Remus swallowed. “Sirius, I’m going to tell you everything. Dumbledore has given me permission, but there’s one condition before I do.”

“What?” Sirius finally spoke to him.

“Dumbledore has demanded that we perform an unbreakable vow.” Anger flashed across Sirius’s face.

“Because you don’t trust me?!” He wasn’t quite shouting but it was close.

“Sirius, if it was my choice I would have told you every day what I’ve done. I’d tell you every little detail, but he won’t let me.” He looked at Sirius, begging him to agree. “Please, Sirius, please. I love you, I can’t lose you. Please, Sirius.” Tears were dripping down his face again.

“Okay, Remus, I’ll do it.” Sirius sighed.

“Thank you,”

They performed the vow at Hogwarts with Dumbledore as the witness. Sirius had been warned by Dumbledore what this meant and that he could not tell anyone about what Remus did, or he would put him in danger. Sirius agreed to everything.

They watched as the thin flames licked over their linked hands as the vow settled into their skin.

When it was over, Remus took Sirius home and told him everything. He told him about the research. He told Sirius about the wolf packs that he’d integrated himself into, to try and get them to stay neutral or even fight for their side. Sirius sat in silence as Remus unloaded all the secrets he’d been dying to tell Sirius for over a year.

“It must have been killing you to keep all those secrets, Moony,” Sirius said quietly after Remus had finished talking. He cupped Remus’s face in his hands. “You’re not alone anymore, Remus. I’ll help you shoulder this burden.” Sirius leaned in and kissed him, their tears mixing on their faces as their kiss deepened. Remus felt nothing but relief and love for the man in front of him.

102 notes · View notes

futurewriter2000 · 5 months ago

Text

Something Universal - pt. 1

A/N: I was just listnening to an Audiobook that really highlights subconsciousness and spiritual laws and I thought how cool would it be if Professor Trawlaney had a daughter that is very similar to her. I also am at the seaside and have literally nothing else to do than waste my phone battery and read.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

When it comes to unseen, invisible and unknown power of the Universe, people like to turn a blind eye. People, Muggles, Wizards and Witches run from the universal power, simply because they cannot accept that there is something more powerful than them.

You’ve transformed yourself to suit other people’s beliefs but the urge, the curiosity in you just didn’t let you be that.

You were the apple of your mother’s eye, witty, beautiful and spiritual. You’ve never shown any gift of seeing beyond the third dimension but you have tried. You have tried so many practices but it just wasn’t in you. The gift just didn’t descend and though you were frustrated, you were also relieved. A part of you wanted to carry on your mother’s legacy, another part was relieved you wouldn’t witness the horrors the gift can bring.

Your mother was the greatest mother to be. Your childhood was brought up in muddy feet and much joy-brought adventures. There was so much light in your child years, where you can remember painting freely with your fingers, shaped cut out potatoes, sponges, brushes and anything your eye could find. Every single moment with your mother was colourful and happy- as if every day was a holiday, something worth celebrating. Your mother always asked you, each and every day, what were you thankful for and your answers were easily answered; the food, the grass, the rainy day so the two of you could spend time inside, cleaning with music on, dancing and especially… her.

Until- just a few years before your Hogwarts admission a tall, magnificent man walked into the house.

*flashback*

“Professor Dumbledore. To what do I owe this visit?” your mother smiled through an unexpected surprise.

“Mrs. (y/l/n), good day. May I come in?” He gestured, flicking his eyes to you and seeing a small glint in it. Back then your mother still had your father’s last name… all before this day.

Your father stepped in front of you, tall as he was also magnificent, he smiled and held your chin in his large hand. He smiled gently, reassuringly. He brushed his thumb over your cheek before walking to the visitor. “Professor Dumbledore, to what do we owe this late pleasure of the evening?” He smiled widely, showing his famous, charming smile.

“Well, I come on some private business- the one I think is meant for more adult ears.” He said as he walked to you, squatting to your level.

Though he was, he still intimidated you with his presence. You could almost feel the strength of his aura, blasting you away with it but you stood firmly on the ground. “You’ve got strong magic in yourself, miss. I hope you will bless our magical school with it.”

This time it was your mother that stepped in front of you, blocking the view with her long skirt. Her eyes weren’t surprised anymore, they were protective. “Go to your room, (y/n).”

And with that you ran up stairs and stopped at the end to listen. You knew you should go to your room. Your mother’s voice changed tone only when she was serious, when that was on very rare occasions.

You still stayed and listened- your intuition told you so. Your ears missed most of Dumbledore’s proposal but your mother and father talked loud and clear enough for you to hear.

“I do know I owe you my education, professor but I do not wish to tap into the future for your purposes- not for what you are about to ask me.”

“Your gift, Mrs. (Y/l/n), is extremely rare in this world. It is not to simply tell the future, it’s the prophecy of the war.”

“Exactly, the prophecies do not work as readings. They have their own power- they are simply dangerous to mind and soul.” She said frustrated and you could feel your father comforting her.

“I know of prophecies.” Said Dumbledore. “ I know I ask many of you but I also offer you, no matter the consequences or results, you and your family will be taken care of.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning your daughter would be under my protection if her gifts develop as yours did.” He said. “And this has been a thought as well before my proposal but I will be in a need of a Divination class when the old centaur retires.”

“That is wonderful news.” Your father exclaimed and you could see the smile on his face. It wasn’t easy to forget. “Sybill…” he pleaded. “Think of our little girl- wouldn’t you want to know that she is safe in the near future? In this world… in this war…” his voice got quieter.

“I never want to read into her future…” she said and you smiled because she promised you she would never and you knew you were safe forever.

*end of flashback*

Yet she did. Arguments after arguments with your father, who pleaded for stability, meanwhile your mother pleaded for safety. Your father reassured her how strong she is, that nothing can break her, not this prophecy, since she had survived many before. But she was weary, your mother, because becoming cocky didn’t belong into her character and she was afraid.

But what was one more prophecy. She promised him this one, the last one, and never again. She did not want to put the mother of her child in danger. To lose herself, you as well.

And you knew, you felt it. Something was in the air that day. It was and you knew it was a bad thing to do but she smiled and reassured you. You pleaded with your father, but he cupped your chin as always, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and he smiled. It worked like a charm. You were safe. You were always safe.

Until you were proven right.

Your mother wasn’t your mother no more. You lost her slowly. The day after, she felt “under the weather” but one day turned into one month soon after. She was pale like the wall behind her. She had no shine whatsoever.

Nothing was happy and colourful after that day. Your father tried but he never did his safe movement. He smiled but his eyes never did. Must have been the guilt.

You tried but it was like talking to a stranger.

Your mother almost went blind from the prophecy, so your father made sure she got the prescripted glasses, which took all of her facial features. Her whole appearance changed and you knew, your father didn’t recognise her as well. But he tried and he tried until there came a day when he saw the burdon it took upon you.

“I am thankful for today’s sun.” You said just before you were turning 11. You took her hand but she moved it away, her eyes bulging through those horrible glasses. Your heart broke and you could feel something hard form in your throat. “I went out to buy some school supplies with dad… we had fun so I am thankful for that too…” your voice starting to wander off as you realised you are talking to a stranger.

“That’s wonderful, dear.” She said as if she knew who you were. “And your mum?” She asked and you felt tears form in your eyes. “Oh, I didn’t mean to upset you. Is she not in the picture.”

You smiled through the tears. Memory loss was present for a few months now but still you weren’t used to it. “She’s not herself lately. She couldn’t come.”

“Oh, that’s a shame.” She said, her voice wandering off as she looked into the sky. She then looked at you, confused and disoriented. “Dear… where am I exactly?”

And that was pretty much the last normal conversation you had. She had her memory of her childhood and her life at Hogwarts but you and your father were very much out of the picture.

Your father felt guilty for it. You knew. He wasn’t himself and he took up drinking. It was your auntie, his sister, that sobered him up and he turned to be hard as a rock. The guilt was there… but he hid it behind a hard exterior. He said he had to be tough for the both of you but the truth was, you needed him to be soft again. You needed his smile, his gentle hand raising your chin up when everything felt low. That never happened.

Now you sat in the Divination class, looking at your mother scrambling her things into her large purse and silently talking to herself.

You smiled… you smiled because she did that whether she was crazy or not and that comforted you. It did. It gave you hope that maybe she was still in there- after all these years.

“Khm…” you heard somebody behind you and you turned around, startled.

There was a completely different lightning when you spun around and you couldn’t see whether there was a brown-haired boy- no, red-haired, looking down onto you or a tree, taller than ever.

Until he squatted down to your level, his brown comforting eyes setting on yours and his smile, charming as ever. The feeling of seeing his face felt almost familiar… felt warm. “Thought you might now that the class is over.” He spoke softly and you smiled just as back.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” You said, scrambling your things as well and holding tightly onto your bag. “I just got lost in thought.” You got onto your feet and almost knocking yourself down as your foot got stuck onto the robe.

His hand placed itself on your waist, pulling you slightly back up. Despite that you didn’t fall, he was still ready to catch you.

He removed his hand to avoid discomfort but he eyed your mom and grinned. “Spoke to her about my last assignment. Let me go easy for not turning it in.” He said as he gestured your hand to walk in front of him.

You kindly took to gesture.

“I saw you sitting up there, thought you might entered some universal state from the way your eyes were fixated on the professor.” He said and you felt your cheeks flush from embarrassment.

“Like I said… I got lost in the train of thought.” You replied.

“Yeah, thought I might do a good deed there and check if you were alright.” He smiled and you let out a short laughter.

“No wish to go to hell?” You eyed him.

“That wish evaporated a long time ago.” He whistled for the effect and both of you laughed. “You seem to admire her though… professor Trawlaney, I mean.” He said and you stopped to look at him. “I saw it in your eyes when I looked up. Usually, people-“

“People are cruel.” You finished for him. “And she does have a special place in my heart.” You continued to walk slowly. Nobody knew she was your mother, not even the staff in this school… nobody except the Headmaster and your father. “And that’s the truth.”

He stopped at the intersection and continued to look at you. “Something… something…” he started but it was as if he was lost for words.

“Something what?” You laughed.

“I can’t put words together but something about you…”

#fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #george weasley imagine #weasley twins

36 notes · View notes

apicelladonna · 7 months ago

Text

In Between Seconds.

one shot: Albus Dumbledore-centric, on the topic of one (1) Gellert Grindelwald, Grindeldore, Musings.

It is 1991, The Headmaster's office hears a loud crack of magik. Lo, behold in front of him were the same set of haunted blue eyes albeit younger and dimmer.

Or how Professor Albus came to Headmaster Dumbledore for some divorce counselling.

....

"Good evening," the headmaster said, his eyes twinkling with a mix of curiosity and surprise. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

The professor took a moment to steady himself, still disoriented from where he once came. "Good evening. I suppose this is rather unorthodox, isn't it?" he replied, his voice carrying the same gentle timbre, yet with an unmistakable edge of youth.

"It certainly is," he agreed, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Might I inquire what year it is for you, my boy?"

"1932," the younger Albus answered, glancing around the room. "And if I may be so bold, what year is it now, Headmaster?"

"1991, Professor." he responded, his gaze mischievous. "Quite a leap, wouldn't you say?"

"Indeed," the younger Albus murmured, almost to himself.

He spared a glance at the desk with the familiar candy bowl still there that he had in his own classroom. "I see we are still fond of sweets even at such age."

"It's the secret to my longevity, of course. There's nothing like a good sherbet lemons to keep a prune like me going." The headmaster chuckled, looking at Albus. He leaned forward and spoke in a calm tone. "So, my dear younger self. Why have you bothered visiting me? Against all our coda on such magik? Time crossing is a fickle thing."

Albus smiled weakly "Forgive the intrusion. I find myself in need of…guidance that only the future could guarantee."

The headmaster hummed, his eyes never leaving the younger man. "May I ask what event has led you to break such a solemn oath?"

His younger self hesitated, then spoke, his voice tinged with sadness. "I just came from a café, where I met with Gel-Grindelwlald. He invited me to reconsider joining him."

A flicker of recognition and sorrow crossed the headmaster’s face. He knew this memory well. “Ah, I see,” he said softly. "Oh the lovely spot, yes. That meeting. A pivotal moment."

"You declined his offer," Albus said, more a statement than a question.

"I did," the headmaster confirmed. "It was not an easy decision, but it was the right one."

The professor nodded slowly, the weight of his own indecision pressing heavily on his shoulders. "He extended the offer for one week. I... I didn't know what to do."

Ah.

"And how do you feel about his invitation, my boy?"

Albus suddenly looks so small in front of the older wizard and ashamed as his shoulders sagged in his confession.

"...I want to join him.." his voice barely audible. "Merlin, I want to be with him again..."

The headmaster sighed, his eyes reflecting a lifetime of memories and regrets. “Albus, my boy, the path Gellert offers is one of power and domination. It is a path that leads to darkness, to suffering.”

"Love can be a powerful and blinding force," he adds gently. "It can lead us to justify actions we would otherwise condemn. But ask yourself, my boy, does your desire for this friend of ours outweigh the safety of the world?"

The younger Albus looked conflicted, "That is why I am here. Why should we be the one to bear this burden? Do we not deserve happiness? To be loved?"

"I still love him. Even after all that he has done..." he admits to his older self, glancing at him. "Do you?"

And for once, their eyes stilled the same glint of blue. "I do."

He regarded his younger self with pity. He could see how much emotions seep through his face, his heart ached for a reunion.

"You will have a decade before a finality. A lot will change and happen within those years. I have faith in you, Professor." His expression hardened again, his voice firm but compassionate.

"Make the right choice for the sake of magic, for the sake of the world, and for the sake of our own conscience."

"Merlin's beard, I sound so ambiguous when I give out advices..." Albus laughed shakily at his elder self's remark.

Bright blue eyes brimming tears as it has been almost six days since Grindelwald had given him time to think about the offer.

It will be the seventh tomorrow if he returns now.

"We love him too much, do we not?" he asked himself.

" We do. Far too much, my dear boy."

_____

Ella: In my defense, I was brainstorming certain parts of PHBF's logic and it vomited this instead.

May or may not continue unless the wells dry up. This is a WIP until further notice.

What do you think? :"D

#Fic Compendium (Ella)#Grindeldore #Albus Dumbledore #Gellert Grindelwald #those old gay wizard lovers yes #wizarding world #ggad #fbawtft #HP Fic #FBAWTFT fic #fantastic beasts 3 #fantastic beasts: the secrets of dumbledore #ella's wip #today on ella's half baked tears and musings #on today's what did ella do half asleep and tired

23 notes · View notes

coolbeans32 · 8 months ago

Text

Echoes of Destiny: The Serpent and the Phoenix

PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader(OC)

SYNOPSIS: Harry, Ron, and Hermione are unexpectedly drawn into a mysterious journey when they receive Albus Dumbledore's last will and testament. Minister Rufus Scrimgeour presents them with significant bequests, including a scrapbook holding the secrets of Dumbledore's past. Through poignant confessions, they learn of Dumbledore's secret marriage to Gellert Grindelwald and the tragic fate of their daughter. Delving into the scrapbook, they uncover a surprising connection between Dumbledore's daughter and Tom Riddle. Dumbledore's final message reveals that his daughter, Genevieve Ariana Dumbledore-Grindelwald, is alive, propelling the trio into a quest to find her and untangle the mysteries of Dumbledore's past. As they embark on this journey, they realize the profound interconnection of their destinies with those of their predecessors, emphasizing the enduring power of love and loss even in the darkest of times.

WARNINGS: This passage contains elements of death, grief, and loss. Specifically, it mentions the tragic death of Dumbledore's daughter, as well as themes of war and the impact of past actions on loved ones.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

Previous Part| Next Part

Chapter One

The Scrapbook

“To what do we owe the pleasure Minister?” Harry asks.

“I think we both know the answer to that question, Mr. Potter.” His voice is deep and sure as he speaks. Rufus Scrimgeour leads them to the living room and Harry, Hermione, and Ron sit down in front of him as he lays down a cloth wrap.

“And this is?...”Harry states with a confused look on his face. The Minister then pulls out a piece of paper before making it float in front of him so he can read it.

"Herein is said forth the last will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. First, to Ronald Billius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator. A device of my own making. In hope when things seem most dark it will show you the light."

"Dumbledore left this for me?" Ron says taking the small black item out of its cover.

"Yes," the Minister says. Ron looks at it in wonder.

"Really. What is it?" He asks and clicks it open. It takes the lights and when clicked back open it puts them back. "Super."

"To Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard in the hope that she finds it entertaining and instructive," He says handing her a book. She looks at it confused.

"Mom used to tell me those. The wizard and the hopping pot, Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump Come on. Babbity Rabbity... No?" Ron says as we all look at him confused.

"To Harry James Potter, I leave the snitch he caught in his first match at Hogwarts. As a reminder of rewards of perseverance and skill," He says and holds out the golden snitch. Harry looks a bit defeated as does the Minister.

"Is that it then?" Harry asks and the Minister shakes his head.

"Not quite. Dumbledore left you a second bequest: The sword of Godric Gryffindor. Unfortunately the sword of Gryffindor was not Dumbledore's to give away. As an important historical artifact it belongs.." He says.

"...to Harry. It belongs to Harry. It came to him when he most needed it in the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione cuts him up. The minister shakes his head.

"The sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor, Miss Granger but that does not make it that wizard's property," He says. "Unfortunately the current whereabouts of the sword are unknown."

"Excuse me?" Harry says. We both look at each other and he looks worried.

"The Sword is Missing. I don't know what you are up to, Mr. Potter but you can't fight this war on your own. He is too strong," The Minister says. Harry, Hermione, and Ron give each other a glance as the Minister stands up.

“One last thing is left. To Harry James Potter, Hermione Jean Granger and Ronald Billius Weasley, I leave this scrapbook, an artifact very dear to my heart, in hopes to give you an insight of not only my life but to help you with your next steps necessary towards victory.” Hermione moves forward to grab the elegant scrapbook, looking more like an album, with its intricate black cover and dark emerald green ribbon on the front. The three of them looked really confused. With that, the Minister left, not before saying,

“Best of luck Mr. Potter, you will need it.”

The trio, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, sit in a circle around the living room, still puzzled by the words of Dumbledore, the Minister, and the scrapbook they had received. Hermione carefully inspects the runes on the cover, her brow furrowed in concentration. She noticed that as she tried to open the book, there was a presence of magic around it. With a flick of her wand and a whispered incantation that effortlessly flowed from her mind, the invisible lock clicks open the book. The three all glance at each other with curiosity. They eagerly flip through the pages, revealing the surprising images within.

Harry peers over Hermione's shoulder, “What do you see, Hermione?”

Hermione gasps softly, “ It's... it's a baby. But... wait, something's changing.”

Ron interrupts, “Changing? What do you mean by changing?”Hermione turns the page, and they watch as the baby's features morph into those of a young girl. “She's... she's growing older right before our eyes.”

Ron exclaims, “That's... that's incredible!”

They continue to flip through the pages, each image revealing a different moment in time. Suddenly, they come across a picture of a much younger Albus Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling with mischief.Harry says, “That’s Dumbledore…”

Hermione turns the page again, and they see a young Gellert Grindelwald standing beside Dumbledore, their faces alight with excitement, and happiness. “It's them... when they were friends…no, wait…Do you think they were more than just friends?”

Ron replies with furrowed eyebrows, “There’s no bloody way that they could’ve been together Mione. It’s a bit hard to believe, I mean, Grindelwald was an evil wizard.” The trio falls silent as they continue to explore the scrapbook, each lost in their own thoughts, revealing images of the girl with both Albus and Gellert. Then, Hermione gasps once more, her eyes widening in surprise, as she changes the page once more.

“Look at this!” Hermione exclaims to Harry and Ron. Harry and Ron lean in to see what has caught Hermione's attention. They see the teenage girl, dressed in Slytherin robes, dancing with a young Tom Riddle.

Harry says flabbergasted and angrily, “Tom Riddle? What's he doing here?”

Hermione replies, also in an extremely surprised state, still trying to process what was in front of her, “I'm not sure, but... it looks like they're... dancing?

Ron says, “Well…quite the surprise there huh?”

Harry replies coldly, “Yeah, to say the least.” They exchange puzzled glances before turning their attention back to the scrapbook, eager to uncover more secrets hidden within its pages.

Hermione turned a couple of more pages, each with more images of the lovely young couple, until writing appeared over the next blank page. The words that appeared in front of the trio were of Dumbledore. The three read his note:

I see you have received the scrapbook I left for you. The contents of this book have much you need to know about my past, my secrets, the loves and losses that shaped my life. I was not always the wise old wizard you see before you. There was a time when I was young, foolish, and in love. I was in love with Gellert Grindelwald. He was many things. He was also brilliant, charismatic, and enchanting. We shared a bond that transcended mere friendship. We even married in secret, during a time of great turmoil. But our love was not to last. We had a child conceived by a surrogate, and bore a daughter. She was our greatest joy and our deepest sorrow. She bore the weight of our mistakes and our regrets. She was a Slytherin. She was brilliant, ambitious, and fiercely loyal. But she was also troubled, haunted by the shadows of our past. It wasn’t until she fell in love with Tom Riddle, the boy who would become Voldemort, that she found her way to regain a part of her that was lost because of me and Gellert. Their romance was nothing that I would have anticipated. I couldn’t bear to see her with a boy as troubled as her, but they prevailed. I thought he would corrupt her. She died on May 13, 1943. A casualty of a war she never chose to fight. A victim of a destiny she could not escape. A casualty by my own hand. I have learned that love is both a gift and a burden. It has the power to lift us up to the highest heights and drag us down to the darkest depths. But in the end, it is what defines us, what binds us together, even in death.

Silence descends upon the room, broken only by the soft rustle of pages as the trio processes Dumbledore's revelations, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione to grapple with the weight of his confessions.

Ron spoke first, trying to relieve the tension, “Well, uhm…who would’ve thought that Dumbledore’s daughter would be the one to make Riddle’s heart go soft?”

Hermione whacked his arm with a paper repeatedly and yelled, “Oh Ronald Weasley! This is not the time for your stupid jokes, this is serious.”

Ron replied, trying to dodge her blows, “Bloody hell woman, that hurts!”

Harry pondered on his thoughts as Hermione and Ron were arguing. There was no way that Tom Riddle could ever love someone, there was just no way. It was truly hard for Harry to believe that the Tom Riddle-Lord Voldemort-himself was ever in love, or had a heart. Harry spoke up and exclaimed exasperatedly, “I still don’t get it. How is any of this supposed to help us? I mean even if Riddle loved Dumbledore’s daughter, she’s dead. This was just a waste.”

Just as Harry had finished his sentence, the note disappeared, and more writing came up. Hermione moved towards the book and read the writing out loud:

My daughter, while she supposedly died…I have to mention that nothing is as true as it seems. I had to protect her, or so I thought. My actions, while they may seem extreme, were important to me years ago. Now that I realize that I may have been wrong…In fact…I had taken all necessary precautions…She is…alive. The images within this scrapbook are all clues that will help you find her. They all have meaning and are small parts to the larger puzzle. I had to make sure that this scrapbook was in the right hands. Best of luck Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Ms. Granger…I will leave you with your first direct clue…her name is…Genevieve Ariana Dumbledore-Grindelwald.

Tom Riddle Masterlist

#harry potter #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #slytherin #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle fanfiction

41 notes · View notes

padfootastic · 3 days ago

Note

From my understanding Remus attended hogwarts mostly bc his dad had a close relationship w Dumbledore and dumbledore hated greyback so he got to go mostly as a favour. I wouldn’t be surprised if the ministry knew but dumbledore had enough pull to let him in (with precautions of course) so they let it slide. We also don’t know how many people are turned as children so his case may have been rare, but I think outside of the general public there are def those who know. Anyone who has worked on him in st mungos for ex would (which would’ve had to be the case before hogwarts if he was getting locked up for full moons) and I doubt in a society as deeply racist/specieist as magical England (like the way giants house elves etc are treated despite being fully conscious beings) and where they can just detect when an underage person is near magic somehow they would NOT have that list.

If you consider it’s meant to be based on the AIDS crisis, I think his actions make a lot more sense. You have a disease that basically makes you an outcast to the point where people are terrified of touching you, where you are blamed for your sickness and seen quite literally as sub human. If your mere association with people ostracises them, how would you even consider building a close relationship with an innocent child? To me Remus is not only protecting Harry from that but is burdened by this view of himself as an actively harmful presence wherever he goes. Not to mention - what will people say? Would Harry have been outcast too if he associated with a werewolf? There’s a shift in acceptance for Remus post OOTP but that seems to have a lot to do with dumbledores trust in him and, at least at first. But I think outside the confines of the order he was probably still treated like shit.

On a different note I also think Remus has a severe deference to dumbledore for the opportunities he’s been given (though arguably if dumbledore gave a shit about werewolves he would’ve sponsored the mass production of wolfsbane and its distribution to all wanting werewolves but oh well) which makes him reluctant to cross a line esp re being close to harry pre POA (and potentially after - dumbledore was very controlling when it came to making sure harry stayed on his timeline and Idt he wanted him close to any adult outside his influence, though I don’t necessarily agree that Remus wasn’t somewhat close to Harry/trying to support him in his own way after book three).

So like - all in all I do really understand where he’s coming from re his relationship w Harry, tho I agree w you re his DH characterisation and the growth across that book in particular for him I think is really cool to witness.

Also re the name thing I always kind of saw it as Harry meeting him as a professor and referring to him as lupin so it’s kept the same regardless of how close they get as a way to distinguish. IIRC he doesn’t really change the way he addresses anyone in his own head at all and he uses first names for a lot of people he isn’t as close to as Remus but who he met in a more relaxed setting. I think it’s less indicative of closeness and more so a way to keep readers from being confused. But I see where you’re coming from too soo 🤷🏽‍♀️

nah that’s fair. i also do kiiiiind of get where remus comes from, and i think he’s one of the more fleshed out characters we get. especially once you hone in on the self hatred and disgust, a lot of things are suddenly much clearer. you see why he keeps a distance, you see why he’s so cautious etc etc. i just don’t know if i like it haha

(there’s another ask i just answered before this that also tackles a lot of this, and comes at it with a similarly sympathetic position so u might like that!) but, largely, i think a lot of my ??? feelings towards remus come from my confusion at how public his status as a werewolf was. like, obv in hogwarts, no one knew. but after that? in the order? etc etc. like, if he’s treated like shit bc he’s a werewolf, then people…have to know he’s a werewolf first, right? so. that’s what stumps me i guess.

oh yeah, that’s fair. i just thought it was intriguing, especially when he mentally switched to remus for a second when he saw the dead bodies. and the shift from black to sirius as well. also interesting because peter is usually wormtail in his head, which is symbolic of his traitor-y actions so i end up attributing too much importance to the lupin thing hehe

#sometimes i feel like i’m going in circles when it comes to remus #bc i fully get where the others are coming from #and they have great points #but i just dislike him so much that it’s hard for me to see it haha #and it could also just be that i’m not seeing something w his lycanthropy #bc it’s hard for me to imagine why thingd would be as tough IF he was an undercover werewolf #but yeah #i think i’ve talked about remus enough for ten lifetimes lol #need to go back to my james & sirius for a palette cleanser now 💀#pen’s asks

8 notes · View notes

tryskomys · 1 year ago

Text

MOONCHILD

Remus Lupin x OC reader

Chapter 2 - Episkey

Summary: Moony and Mittens officially join the Hogwarts faculty. After a string of both endearing and hostile reunions, the feast unexpectedly evokes a wave of dreadful memories.

previous chapter

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆

notes: here goes chapter two! hope you’ll enjoy it, it is preeeetty juicy for you angst lovers out there…

tw: a bit nasty - blood, vivid description of minor injuries, foul language, padfoot is a dickhead ™

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

"Do you think I should change back?" Hesperia mumbled in a hushed voice as she and Remus crisscrossed between students through the narrow corridor. He was doing his best not to step on anyone's feet, which was quite a challenge as his pointy Oxford shoes neared twice the size of some of the children's. The brown leather material was flaky in some places, the heel worn out and uneven.

He answered with a shrug, now trying his best to maintain balance when the train suddenly moved, rattling through the tracks once again with a deafening screech of wheels.

"I don't think that will be necessary. They probably thought you were wandering somewhere around the train."

She sighed in relief and attempted to tuck a loose strand of hair back into the chignon.

"Splendid. I don't think that shaggy old floor mop would digest the chocolate very well. I don't plan on dying tonight, not until I've had at least two servings of butterbeer croquembouche."

A giggle rumbled through his chest as they reached their respective compartment. The children were still there, now a bit calmer as they discussed the preceding events. Remus gave a short nod in the direction of the now-empty package of chocolate.

Hesperia raised her eyebrows in contentment and then softly cleared her throat, a shy shiver running down her spine when the passengers looked at the two of them.

Their surprised faces scanned the new stranger, the boys were especially flustered when she gave them all a warm smile. Harry discreetly looked the woman up and down, stopping when she made eye contact with him.

Her eyes…that's impossible.

"Are you feeling better, Harry? We'll be arriving at Hogwarts in ten minutes." Remus gained back their attention when he spoke. They were already getting used to his calm, silent voice. He seemed to have an unusual sort of authority, one won over by pure kindness. But it was their first time hearing the woman speak.

"Professor Lupin kindly filled me in on the problems we've run into. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will investigate how those beasts got in here. Don't burden your minds with that, now. There's no safer place than Hogwarts, right?" she assured them. Her words carried through the air as if they were soft clouds, sweet to their ears like butterscotch.

Remus nodded and motioned towards the leather seats.

"May we join you?" he asked politely, his tired smile growing wider when the children nodded and muttered silent, assuring replies. Harry shuffled to the side so the professors could sit in the same place where Remus slept, oblivious to the cat's sudden disappearance until Ginny's shy voice peeped from the corner.

Hesperia got up in the meantime and reached for the copy of Daily Prophet that was tucked under her ragged suitcase, stubbornly staring into it when she sat down and heard Ginny's tremoring question.

"Professor, I- I'm sorry, but where is your Mittens?" she stuttered and her face was almost as red as her hair now. His eye twitched for the slightest second before he shifted in his seat, sticking his hands into the pockets of his robe.

"Oh, Mittens is not mine, she's just a stray. I used to meet her a lot around the grounds when I went to school, which was…let's say some years ago. More than I'd like to admit." he grinned and casually rested his head on the window.

"I was quite surprised to see her after all that time. She was looking rather ragged, though. I guess age is catching up to her." he shrugged as Ginny giggled. His ears caught the subtle rustle of paper when Hesperia gripped the Prophet tighter.

Oh, you're surely getting the claws when we get there, prick.

She was torn out of the long silence that followed when the train stopped with a shrill sound of metal grinding against metal.

"Looks like we're here! Ah, I hope there will be broiled potatoes." Remus stretched and gave everyone present a wide smile before getting up, probably too fast for his exhaustion, because his vision went fuzzy for a moment and he stumbled backwards. Neville caught him, his big ears as red as his favourite cherry liquorice sticks from the snack trolley.

The professor patted his slouched shoulder and thanked him. He just nodded and nearly ran out of the cabin, stumbling over Hesperia's small suitcase in the process.

"Well, it was a pleasure to meet all of you! See you around." she nodded and handed Remus his cane before disappearing from their sight with a small wave.

When she walked outside, ropes of frigid rain were falling from the sky with loud splashes and clouds occasionally cracked with bright lightning. She softly swore under her breath, cringing as wet drops ran under the collar of her robe. Remus carefully limped down the stairs of the train and when he hit the ground with a heavy huff, she snorted.

"Who did you say was getting old?" she hissed at him but couldn't hide the grin playing at her lips when he looked at her, his green eyes wide. He smacked his lips in annoyance and softly punched her arm. He took out his wand, pointed it at the sky and a transparent umbrella sprung out of its tip, successfully shielding both of them from the pouring rain.

She lifted his small luggage from the ground and held it along with her own so he could use his cane as well as his wand. Ignoring his protests, she scooted over closer to him and hooked her arm into his when he offered it with a sigh.

"Mimi, you don't have to -"

"Shush, pay attention to your steps, now. You can be a gentleman tomorrow." she cut him off and tugged on his arm to make him move.

She heard Hagrid's booming voice calling the first-years to join him and she melted, the nostalgia finally catching up to her.

They made their way over to the carriages, gravel crunching under their shoes as they walked on the road surrounded by various blooming bushes and small flame spheres that hovered above the ground. The carriages they seemed to be dragged by strange, naked creatures now. They resembled horses and birds alike, their wings scaly and skeletal. Thestrals.

"Makes sense that we would see them, now...after everything," Remus mumbled in her ear, his warm breath making her freezing cheek pleasantly flush. She just soundlessly nodded and let go of him, climbing into one of the vehicles with a soft huff.

Three fairly grown-up girls, presumably seventh-years, hesitantly joined them. Their hair was soaked and their teeth rattled in the cold autumn breeze that fluttered around them as the Thestrals moved. Their faces turned pink when they noticed the unusually young and unusually handsome professor and his gentle smile.

"Engorgio!" he commanded and the transparent umbrella expanded with a high-pitched squeal until it hovered over the whole carriage. The group's cheeks flamed even brighter now, stifling giggles when he spoke.

"Better?" his sweet voice carried through the air and the girls nodded, gingerly thanking before murmuring something among each other. She cursed her pitch-perfect hearing.

Why couldn't I have transformed into a mole rat instead?

"Show-off," she muttered under her breath and he shrugged, a smug grin reaching all the way up to his twinkling eyes.

When they arrived in front of the castle and hopped out of the vehicle, she spotted Harry and the others from the train in the distance. They seemed to be in some sort of conflict with a trio of boys she didn't see before when they passed the compartments on the way here. Remus raised an eyebrow as they neared the group.

"I wonder whose son that is," he mumbled with a sarcastic smirk when they were close enough to notice that the loudest student had shiny, platinum blonde hair. She scoffed and did her best to put on a professional façade.

"Is there a problem?" Remus questioned in a firm but friendly tone and they stopped by the band of teens. He was remarkably better at keeping his temper than her, which was quite ironic considering his condition. Her disdain was hidden behind an unconvincing smile.

Draco Malfoy and his two companions turned around and looked the professors up and down, silver and green ties nonchalantly thrown around their necks. Now that they were illuminated by the golden lights of the castle and standing right in front of them, Harry noticed just how much shabbier they looked in comparison to the river of people flowing into the castle.

Remus Lupin was a tall, tall man. And yet, his ill-fitting robes still seemed to loosely flutter around his fairly broad stature. The tweed suit he had under his long grey robe was pilling around the buttons and loose threads were sticking out of his mousy brown tie. The rough woollen coat that hung down from his shoulders had clumps all over and it looked frankly uncomfortable to wear. His dark brown Oxfords were worn-out and creased all over.

His female companion didn't look much fancier. Her fawny suit was from a lighter type of wool than his, but it was no less crumpled. Her trousers ended above her ankles, it was hard to decide if they were supposed to be that way or if she had them for years and simply grew out of them. The high leather boots on her feet were slightly pointy and had a small and stocky hourglass-shaped heel. The shoelaces were tightly knotted, looking like they might fall apart at any moment.

Her moss-green robe had a few patches from a different fabric and her mustard-yellow parka was the only piece of clothing on both of them that looked semi-new.

Malfoy must've went through the same thought process, because his already judgemental smirk grew even wider when he saw Remus's scarred face, pale and exhausted. The grey strands in his hair glinted under the soft lights that escaped through the windows.

"No problem at all…professor." Draco sneered and gave Harry, Ron and Hermione one last scoff before waving off his two beefy friends and joining the mountain of heads moving up the stairs. Ron gave them an apologizing smile and Hesperia patted his shoulder.

"Enjoy the feast." she winked and turned around when she heard Professor Flitwick's high-pitched voice from around the corner. Ron caught the slightest hint of her perfume when she whipped her head around and his red ears nearly started glowing in the dark rainy night.

"Hessie! Remus! I've been looking for you all over, where were you hiding?" Flitwick mused, waving at them to join him. They exchanged a big grin and waved Harry and his friends goodbye, rushing to the small man's side. They affectionately shook his hand and he led them to the back entrance reserved for teachers.

They entered a small lobby that continued to The Great Hall, where most teachers already sat at their places, waiting for everyone to arrive. Remus waved his wand to make the umbrella disappear with a puff of raindrops and hung his cane on one of the armchairs. Hessie put the two suitcases on the floor, taking off her parka.

Professor Sprout just walked in with a deep frown on her face.

"Filius, how in Helga's name am I supposed to -"

She stopped in her tracks when she noticed the new faces and her annoyed expression immediately changed to a delighted smile.

"Remus! And Hessie, too! Merlin's beard, come here, my lion cubs." she exclaimed and stomped through the lobby with a boisterous giggle. She gave them both a big bone-crushing hug before standing on her tiptoes to pinch Remus's cheek. He blushed at the sudden attention.

"My dear boy, look at you! You've grown so much!" she sniffled and turned to Hessie, took her hands and spun her around.

"Let me have a proper look at you, rosebud. My dear Hessie, as sweet as ever!"

Professor Sprout took out a lacy handkerchief and patted her eyes dry. Hessie bit her lip to contain the embarrassed smile that curled on her lips. The stocky witch sighed and put her handkerchief back inside her robes, softly clapping her hands.

"We're so honoured to be back, Professor." Remus awkwardly stuck his hands into his pockets and Professor Sprout tutted.

"Oh, stop it, sweetheart. Call me Pomona. We're so delighted to have you here with us. Truly, right before you arrived, Filius was just talking about - Filius?"

Her eyes widened when she realized she came in to complain to Professor Flitwick and franatically looked around the room. He elegantly snuck out of the room when she was busy blowing her nose.

"Filius!" she lamented and ran out of the door without a word, muttering something under her breath before calling out for him again.

They broke into giggles as soon as she disappeared behind the corner. She walked up closer to him and smoothed his robes, spotting cat hair on his chest. They fell silent and he looked down at her lovingly, allowing himself to study her face now that she was busy taking out her wand.

Her eyebrows were knitted in concentration as she muttered a string of incantations, first removing the clumps on his suit with a simple wave, then swishing it to make the loose threads vanish and finally move onto the tear near the bottom of his robe, intricately twirling the tip as the fabric seemed to attach itself together.

She didn't seem to age a day since they last walked through this castle. Even back then she had a few silver threads in her hair.

His eyes fell on the long scar that graced her skin. A wave of sickness jolted through his body and he bit down on his bottom lip so roughly a drop of blood appeared on it. She seemed to have a potent radar for Remus's self-loathing thoughts, so she looked at him, put her wand away and reached up, wiping the red stain with the pad of her thumb. His eyelids involuntarily fluttered closed as his fists clenched in his pockets.

"How many times did I tell you not to chew your lips?" she whispered when he opened his eyes. They were exhausted and bordered with dark circles. And despite all the pain they carried, they were so warm, so caring it made her heartbeat stutter. He softly shook his head.

"I cannot count that high, Mittens," he said and breathed out a shivering sigh.

Both of them jumped when Albus Dumbledore cleared his throat, watching them with arms akimbo as his grey robe fluttered in the cold breeze that flowed in through the main door. The expression on his face seemed deliberately bored as if he was standing there for hours.

"I see you've already settled here comfortably. Splendid!" his voice echoed through the stone walls and he giggled when he saw their terrified expressions, walking up to them with open arms.

Hessie let out a silent chuckle and straightened her robes. Remus sheepishly took the hands out of his pockets, clasping them behind his back.

"Sweet Hessie." he kissed the back of her hand before softly caressing her cheek.

"And Remus, my dear friend. What a joy to see the two in these halls again. I'll forever be in your debt for this." he shook Remus's hand and patted his back, taking both of them around the shoulders.

"You have missed the usual professors' meeting, but pay no mind to that. I will fill you in on everything. Now, tell me - ah, Severus! Right on time as always."

They both set their eyes on the towering figure in the doorframe. His posture was unbelievably straight, not in the slightest similar to the hunch he was stuck in when they last saw each other.

Severus Snape was piercing them with narrowed eyes, thy were so astonishingly dark they didn't seem to reflect any light. He was completely wrapped in layers of long black robes, only his pale sinewy hands peeked out of his sleeves while he folded his arms.

'What's up, Snivellus? Stumbled upon some shampoo lately? 'Cause it doesn't seem like it. Levicorpus!'

James Potter's phantom voice echoed through her ears as she studied his greasy raven hair, her eyes rapidly blinking off the embarrassment. She hated that nickname almost as much as she hated Snape himself, along with his supremacist friend group.

She wondered if he ever knew that. If he remembered that she and Remus loathed their friends’ treatment of him. Considering his hostile scowl, though, it seemed like enabling was just as heinous as bullying in his eyes. She couldn't fault him for that, so she averted his stare by peeking inside the noisy Great Hall.

"Severus, you've met Remus and Hessie before." Dumbledore walked up to him and motioned him inside the lobby. Remus was as uncomfortable as her when he stuck out his palm to shake Snape's veiny hand.

"I've had the pleasure." he simply stated, his voice impossibly deep and cold as ice. Remus gave him a small, genuine smile, but Snape just turned to Hessie, shaking her hand with a similarly steely grip.

"Severus will supply you with the Wolfsbane potion as often as you'll need. The ingredients in his pantry are of utmost quality, as are his skills, of course. I'm fully convinced that we'll be able to ease your suffering, Remus. I promise." Dumbledore assured him, sensing the tension in the room.

Remus nodded.

"Oh, I have no doubts about our Potions Master's skills. Severus, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am in your debt." he gave him a polite nod, nervously picking on the skin around his nails.

Snape stood motionless, like a Muggle portrait before giving Remus a lopsided, dishonest smile and with a dramatic swish of his black robe, he turned around and headed towards his seat behind the teachers' table. Dumbledore shrugged and gave them a reassuring smile, waving towards the door as he led the way to The Great Hall. They exchanged a nervous sigh and followed him.

● ● ● ● ● ●

"With great honour, I'd like to welcome Professor R.J. Lupin and Professor H. Lynx, who were generous enough to accept my offer and share the open position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers."

Dumbledore introduced the young duo and they both got up, giving the packed dining hall a court, shy bow. They grinned at each other and sat down, looking around the room as the lukewarm cheers died down.

"For those who seemed to be puzzled by this unusual precaution, the Hogwarts faculty has discussed the…inconsistencies in the previous years and deduced that it would be wise to employ two teachers at once. In case one of them got possessed by anything, be it villainy or incompetence," he added with a knowing smirk and cheerful laughter carried through the packed room.

Harry caught Hessie's eyes and she gave him a disarming wink, making his cheeks flood with a patchy blush.

She seemed so familiar.

The excitement after Dumbledore’s announcement of the new Care of Magical Creatures professor got a considerably louder applause as Hagrid sheepishly stood up and hit the long table with his large belly, making Remus's goblet of wine fall on the floor with a twinkling rattle. He just laughed it off and continued clapping as a new goblet appeared in front of him out of thin air.

The joyous atmosphere seemed to quickly vaporize when the headmaster’s speech turned to the topic of Dementors and their reason to lurk around the castle.

When his name boomed through the stone walls, Hessie felt as if someone dropped a bucket of freezing water down her robe, frigid dread running down her spine.

Twelve years and it still didn't hurt any less than when she got the owl on the fateful Hallowe'en night. She heard Remus's deep sigh beside her as he stared at the table. Her peripheral vision caught Snape's dark eyes boring into her skull, mouth twisted in a mocking grin.

A memory consumed her whole consciousness.

She was stomping through the tall grass with deafening ringing in her ears, her nostrils shivered as she huffed out heavy breaths. The Whomping Willow, covered in snow, was getting smaller and smaller as she walked away, looking almost indistinguishable from a harmless tree when she finally reached the castle's back door.

She never ran up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower as quickly as that evening. The Fat Lady was just falling asleep when she walked up to the portrait, biting the inside of her cheek to contain her shaky voice.

"'Shrivelfig juice.'" she said firmly, trying to mask the anger spewing out of her brain. The Lady peevishly grunted and opened her eyes.

"Merlin's beard, what are you doing up at this hour? I was just about to indulge in my beauty sleep - "

"I SAID 'SHRIVELFIG JUICE‘!" she exclaimed, her eyebrows knotted in a deep frown. The Fat Lady gasped and reluctantly opened the entrance, muttering complaints under her breath.

"The audacity! I thought you had manners, young lady!" she called after her, but Hessie couldn't hear any of it. The ringing in her ears got too loud when she entered the common room and slammed the door behind her.

A handsome young man was sitting by the fireplace in one of the velvet armchairs, the flames illuminated his chiselled features. His grey eyes were scanning a Muggle motorcycle magazine but he immediately hopped up when he noticed her, greeting her with a signature wide grin as his dark locks nonchalantly cascaded around his face.

His joyful expression quickly fell when she charged at him and decked him in the face so hard he stumbled back down on his seat.

Her fist slowly filled up with white-hot pain when she heard a soft crack upon the impact. Her index finger was now bent at an unnatural angle.

"What the -"

"You self-centred prick! What exactly did you think you were doing?!" she shrieked as she held her bleeding knuckles, the pain was like gasoline to her fury. He looked up at her, mouth full of blood. His nose was letting out a small drop as well, tickling the bow of his lips. He immediately knew what she was talking about.

"What's gotten into you? It was a joke, Mimi -"

"Don't Mimi me, you fucking idiot! He could have died!"

"Serves him right, didn't he call you a scar-faced cunt yesterday?"

"Serves him right?!" she screeched again, pacing in front of him like a hungry lioness in her cage. Her chest rapidly heaved. They were lucky the whole tower was gone for an overnight field trip to Hogsmeade.

"He's a sinister, greasy little cockroach. He had it coming. Someone ought to give him a little scare." he hissed and wiped the bloody nose with the sleeve of his yellow-red sweater.

She scoffed.

"So you took it upon yourself, a hero of the people!"

He took a breath to say something but she harshly cut him off.

"You don't value human life? Fine. Suit yourself. But did your omnipotent brain even consider what would've happened to Moony if he had ripped that fuckface to shreds? How he would feel if he woke up in the hospital wing tomorrow and found out he'd torn someone's beating heart out? Did you worry about the consequences for your best fucking friend?!" she screamed in his face and he fell silent, putting together that this was the true core of her wrath.

And he truly didn't realize any of it. She was right and he was arrogant and careless. He felt humiliated. She could see right through him at that moment, so she gave him a joyless grin.

"Didn't think so. Let me enlighten you, then!"

He immediately backed away when she walked towards him again, but this time she just braced herself against the armrests of his chair, ignoring the bloody marks she'd left behind. She bent down on his level and got as close as she could without their noses touching.

He could inhale the scent of her Moondew shampoo from this distance, but it felt dangerous, not familiar. Her furious stare made him feel like he was burning on a stake, so he decided to move his gaze to the carmine red carpet under his feet instead.

Her silent voice was even more menacing than her enraged shrieks.

"He would've been expelled and sent to rot in Azkaban for manslaughter. All because pretty boy wanted to boost his fragile ego by navigating a clueless person to a tunnel that leads straight into a werewolf's den."

The boy's grunt echoed through the common room walls when he jumped up from his armchair, took her by the collar of her fuzzy green sweater and backed her into a wall, deaf to the gasp she made when her shoulders hit the uneven stone.

"You know what?! If you care so much about your precious Snape's well-being, why don't you go join him and his Death Eater friends at the dining table for breakfast? You can talk about your mother's bakery over a cuppa and they'll welcome you with open arms!" he barked out, spitting blood and saliva all around him.

She didn't have time to process his statement, because as soon as the words left his mouth, her injured hand instinctively sprung up and firmly slapped his cheek, leaving a mark of bloody fingers behind. His face whipped to the side and he took a moment to breathe out before meeting her devastated face, realizing the weight of his insult.

Strident pain pulsed through her broken finger, but it was nothing compared to the feeling that was eating through her heart when his venomous words sank in. He stared at her with wide eyes, knowing that there was nothing he could do to take back the taunt he just stabbed her with.

She scoffed, a sarcastic smirk curling up the corners of her quivering lips.

"You make me sick, Black," she whispered and wrenched out of his now-limp grip. She forcefully pushed him aside with her shoulder, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. As she stomped off, he heard a strained mumble.

"Episkey."

He cringed at the poorly contained squeal she let out when her busted finger straightened itself back to its usual position with a nauseating crack.

”Mittens, I -“

He could do nothing but watch her body warp into a familiar ball of matted fur and disappear behind the bookshelf that hid one of the ways out of the castle.

She jerked at the loud swish that accompanied the sudden appearance of mountains of food.

Sweet and savoury, sour or bland, it was all there.

She fixed her dissociated stare at the broiled chicken drumsticks that were neatly arranged in a bowl of creamy corn and broccoli, dull pain pulsing in her stomach.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆

Tag list: @wickedsingularity @messyr-moons

#remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x oc #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fanfic #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders oc #golden trio era #potterhead #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #golden trio #professor remus lupin #severus snape #sirius black #the marauders #marauders angst

93 notes · View notes

iamnmbr3 · 8 months ago

Text

Things Tom Riddle had done by age 14:

Stolen trinkets at his orphanage

Something sketchy in a cave (??)

Things Hermione Granger had done by age 14:

Set a teacher on fire

Stolen ingredients to brew an illegal and dangerous potion in a bathroom

Changed time

Kidnapped a woman and held her prisoner in an enchanted jar

....

Guess which one Dumbledore decided was inherently evil and beyond redemption? The answer may surprise you.

#humor #Albus Dumbledore #Tom Riddle #Hermione Granger #random musings

71 notes · View notes

gracexthoughts · 8 months ago

Text

of violent delights chap 22

the champions

31 october 1996

Mattheo’s POV

“It’s not going to wooork!” Granger calls in a sing-song voice as the Twins soak in the scattered applause from the other students around, ready to submit their names. The Goblet of Fire has been set up towards the front of the Great Hall, the tables pushed back and squished together to accommodate the large cup and magical age line surrounding it.

“C’mon, ‘Mione!” One twin groans.

“Have a little faith,” adds the other, which I think is George. Mia has been trying to show me how to tell them apart and if they would stand still I probably could do it.

“She’s right,” Mia says from my side. It’s a Saturday so Mia and I went to Hogsmeade for lunch and as we were entering the castle on our way back, the Twins were running into the Great Hall like they were about to win a race. “You didn’t account for the age line.” The Twins turn to look at her eyebrows raised.

“This right here, is an age line,” Mia says, pointing to the silvery blue boundary that encircles the Goblet.

"Dumbledore drew it himself!" Granger says, seeming very pleased that Mia agrees with her.

“I highly doubt Dumbledore’s magic can be fooled by a dodge as obvious as an aging potion," adds Mia.

“Ah! But that’s why it's so genius, Phe,” Fred says; I can tell it's Fred because he steps so close to Mia that I have to make an effort not to push him back. Fred is much more physically affectionate with Mia than George and while I trust Mia, I can’t help the jealousy that flairs in my chest for the guy that knows my girlfriend better than I may ever be able to.

“Because it's so obvious that they would assume no one would try it!” George answers.

“By all means, if it works then you can brag for the rest of the year about how genius you both are,” Mia laughs at her friends and the Twins high five, drink their potions, and turn to the Goblet, very slowly and carefully stepping over the age line, which bends against the legs but does let them pass. Mia bites her bottom lip as she watches it all happen and my mind wanders as I watch her for a moment, no longer interested in the Twins but rather focusing on my jumping her right here.

My focus is pulled from Mia’s lips as the Twins shout and fly over the crowd surrounding the Goblet and land hard on the floor. I follow my girlfriend as she pushes her way through the crowd frantically only to see Fred and George fighting on the floor as old men. Mia fails to stifle a laugh and I don’t even try not to bust out laughing as the Weasley Twins, in their new found old age, wrestle and yell at each other on the floor of the Great Hall. Eventually, Mia sighs and steps forward, lightly kicking their sides until they release each other.

“Not to say I told you so but-”

“Mia, you gotta help us fix it!” One of them begs, their voice cracking as they stand, rubbing their back as if it pains them. Well, they are elderly now I guess.

“What? How is this my fault? I think you both look rather dashing,” Mia teases, clearly trying hard not to bust out laughing again. “I’ll walk with you to Pomphrey,” she adds before turning to me. “Met up after the feast?”

“Sounds good, princess. Good luck with the grandads,” I press a small kiss to her forehead before she turns and shoves the elderly Twins forward, the three of them leaving with their laughter echoing in their wake.

“Can’t believe you’re dating her,” Draco’s voice sneers from my side and I turn to face my cousin, his hair reflecting the blue flames coming out of the Goblet.

“Bugger off, Draco,” I grumble, turning back to see Krum throw his name into the Goblet as well, all the girls in the room admiring him as he turns and leaves.

“Father was surprised, of course, but sounds like your mother wasn’t. Although, he supposed it could be a very clever ruse. Breaking the heart of The Girl Who Lived, a small revenge for the death of a father,” Draco continues. Like a little brother, he has always loved winding me up, and unfortunately, I’m an easy man to anger.

“You and your father need to keep your noses out of my life,” I snap, turning and shoving the smaller boy slightly, causing him to stumble back a step. “You leave the Potters alone.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” He cries indignantly but before I can respond, Ella appears by his side.

“C’mon Dray, don’t lower yourself by fussing with blood traitors,” she coos cruelly, her dark eyes narrowed at me angrily. I clench my jaw at the insult but I don’t rise to their taunts.

“Come off it, Elladora,” Enzo says, appearing at my side with his arms crossed. Theo appears on my other side and gratitude floods in me for my two best friends. Ella and Draco roll their eyes and sneer as they turn their backs and leave the Great Hall whispering intently.

“Malfoy-Riddle holidays are gonna get super fun for you,” Theo comments, trying to break tension, and I grunt in acknowledgement.

“Don’t worry about them, Matt,” Enzo says calmly.

“Easy,” I respond simply. “You guys want a smoke?” I ask, wanting to escape to the Astronomy Tower and ignore the rest of the world.

“Yeah, let’s go. Tired of this display anyway,” Theo nods and the three of us exit the Great Hall and make our way towards the tower.

✦

“The time has come to select our Triwizard Tournament champions!” Dumbledore announces, stepping down from the teachers table towards the Goblet of Fire, his hand outstretched as he dims the torches around the Hall.

“Ah, here we go,” Evan mutters, turning in his seat so he can watch, leaning his back against the table. I catch Mia’s eye at the next table over and she smiles, scrunching her nose adorably before turning back around to watch the choosing ceremony. “Once the champions' names are called, please come up to the top of the Hall and proceed into the next chamber and await your instructions,” Dumbledore motions towards a door to the side of the teachers table.

The entirety of the hall waits in tense excitement as the Goblet of Fire begins shining more brightly, so bright it's almost painful to look too closely at it. Suddenly, the flames turn bright red and jump up to a height of a foot or so and a burned piece of parchment flutters down and Dumbledore catches it easily. “The Durmstrang champion is… Victor Krum!”

Applause echoes through the halls for the Bulgarian Seeker as he stands and sweeps up towards the table and is congratulated by Karkaroff before he disappears through the door.

“No surprise there,” Enzo mutters back to Theo and I as the flames just up again and spit out another paper.

“The champion for Beauxbatons is… Fleur Delacour!” A lithe blonde girl stands from amongst the sea of blue silk uniforms, looking quite proud, and saunters up to Dumbledore before continuing in Krum’s path as the student body cheers, especially the boys.

“Oh man,” Evan says as he leans back to watch Fleur as she walks, adding a low whistle to punctuate his sentence. Astoria reaches over the table and smacks Evan on the back of his head. The French girl is beautiful for certain, but it seems I am one of the only ones not fawning over her.

Just as Fleur disappears, the goblet shoots the third and final paper. “The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!” The Slytherins around me groan, but Hufflepuff explodes in uproar as they cheer for their champion.

“What a pretty boy,” Theo mutters but I’m focused on Mia as Diggory smiles and nods at Mia as he passes her, his eyes lingering longer than on anyone else he passes. I see George and Fred glaring at him and I’m glad someone else agrees that the newly appointed Hogwarts champion should stay far away from my girl.

“That’s it!” Dumbledore yells, the students quieting down as Diggory slips through the door. “We now have our three champions, and I’m sure the rest of you will be very supportive.” The Headmaster falters in his speech as the Goblet begins sparking and the flames turn red and shoot out a fourth paper.

Dumbledore, looking quite bewildered, reaches for the paper and squints at it. He murmurs a name but I’m sitting too far away to hear it but the students up front begin whispering rapidly and looking towards the Gryffindor table.

“... Potter,” my blood runs cold at the last name, although I didn’t catch the first name I’m terrified for Mia. She never said she found a way to enter, she didn’t even seem like she wanted to. “HARRY POTTER!” Dumbledore roars louder, interrupting my thoughts and relief floods my chest, soon followed by guilt.

For a moment no one moves. My eyes find Mia a table over, seemingly frozen in time with wide eyes. She doesn’t move until Harry passes her on his way up to Dumbledore, and even I can tell Harry doesn’t understand what’s happening. At the sight of her brother, Mia moves suddenly, like her brain was struggling to process information but now that it has she jumps up from her seat.

“Headmaster, it must be a mistake!” She calls and Harry looks back to his sister, the fear and confusion in her eyes mirrored in his near identical ones. Mia steps over her seat, trying to go after her brother, but one of the Weasley Twins, I can’t tell which from here, stands and pulls her back. She struggles against him as she watches her brother take the parchment from Dumbledore and walk dazed towards the door. Evan, Enzo, Theo and Astoria all look at me with varying degrees of confusion.

“How did he get past the Age Line?” Evan whispers but I’m not listening. I don’t listen to Dumbledore as he dismisses us either because all I’m aware of is the terror on Mia’s face. Students begin standing around me and I push my way through the crowd to try and reach Mia.

Mia doesn’t stay put though, she begins pushing her way towards Dumbledore, who is speaking to McGonagall next to the goblet. I’m a few steps behind Mia as she reaches the professors.

“Headmaster! How is this possible? Harry didn’t enter, he couldn’t have!” She cries and I can hear the panic in her voice as I step up behind her, the Twins next to me now as well.

“Miss Potter, please,” Dumbledore says placatingly but Mia forges ahead.

“You can’t let him compete! He’s only sixteen!”

“We will do everything we can to ensure-”

“I’ll compete for him!” Mia interrupts again, and I share a glance with the Twins. “I’ll be 19 in a few months, please! You have to let me take his place, he’s not-

“Miss Potter!” Dumbledore snaps, halting Mia in her tracks. “Please, let us handle it and you can come speak to me about it tomorrow if you still wish,” and with that Dumbledore turns around and sweeps back towards the teacher’s table, followed by Karkaroff, Madam Maxine, and an entourage of Hogwarts teachers.

“Professor, please, I’ll do anything if it means Harry doesn’t have to do this. There has to be a way,” Mia begs of McGonagall, whose face is grave. McGonagall reaches out and puts a hand on Mia’s shoulder.

“I know you’re frightened, Miss Potter, but there is not much that can be done tonight. I will speak with the Headmaster and you and I can speak tomorrow. For now, just go on back to the common room, and be there for your brother,” McGonagall squeezes Mia’s shoulder and gives her a small, reassuring smile before turning and following after Dumbledore.

Mia watches her go for a moment before turning back to me, Fred and George. Her beautiful green eyes are wide with fear and her bottom lip is trembling.

“C’mon, Mia. Let’s go back to the common room, I’m sure Harry will be back up there soon,” Fred says calmly. The Great Hall is almost completely empty now save us and a few stragglers.

Mia turns her eyes to me, “Will you com-”

“Of course, Mia. C’mon,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and I lead her out of the Great Hall behind the Twins, the last people in the Hall eyeing Mia suspiciously.

As we enter the Gryffindor Common Room, students shoot us looks, emotions ranging from suspicion to hatred. I mean, every time I’m anywhere near Gryffindor Tower I get plenty of wary stares and glares but I’ve never seen this reaction for Mia. Mia begins to follow Fred and George to the couches where the rest of her and Harry’s friends sit but she looks around for a moment at the rest of the room, her jaw ticking.

“I have to go write to Remus and… I have to go write to Remus,” she says in the general direction of the circle of friends and then continues through the room, her head held high. I follow after her and find her frantically searching through the piles on her desk.

Something I’ve learned about Mia in the last two months, she’s kinda messy. I mean she’s brilliant and seems to have a system, but she’s also a little chaotic. Typically, every surface in her dorm room is littered with books and quills and parchment and the occasional dirty coffee cup. It doesn't help that her friends are in here all the time as well, I'm sure, but she doesn't seem to mind.

I close the door gently as Mia manages to find a quill and some clean parchment. She leans over her desk, perched on the very edge of her chair as she furiously scribbles out a letter.

“Mia…” I say gently, placing my hands on her shoulders.

“One sec,” she mutters, pushing one paper addressed to Remus Lupin, her godfather, away and switching to a second piece of parchment and starting a second letter.

“Who’s Padfoot?” I ask curiously, having never heard the name before.

“Nobody,” she mutters distantly and I sigh, backing up a few steps. I stand in the middle of the room, my mind running a hundred miles a minute at who the hell she’s writing to. I grit my teeth as I try to control my jealousy and worries. After another minute of the scratching of her quill she stands and moves to grab her cloak.

“Woah, where are you going?” I ask, stepping in front of her.

“Owlery, I have to send these,” she says, not looking at me. Once Mia gets her mind set on something, not much can stop her.

“Mia, just stop for a second and think! It’s dark and Harry will probably be back any minute. You can send them tomorrow!” I say, still blocking her path.

“Mattheo, stop! Let me go! They have to know! I need their help!” Mia yells as panic starts to overtake her again.

“No! Mia, just take a breath!”

“Get out of my way!”

“No!” I yell, and put my hand out towards her, without thinking, and she flinches. “Oh fuck, Mia. Princess, I’m sorry. I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise,” I say, lowering my voice and my hand slowly. My heart breaks as I look at my girlfriend looking at me like a cornered animal.

“No, I know. I’m sorry,” Mia says, dropping her gaze to the floor and shaking her head. I hesitantly take a few steps forward until I’m standing toe to toe with her and reach out, lifting her chin so she looks up at me.

“Don’t apologize. What they did to you is not your fault and I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m just… worried about you,” I say earnestly, cupping her face as a tear spills over her eyelashes. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” I whisper, pulling her into a hug and, finally, she relents into my embrace, shaking as sobs wrack her body. “You’re safe, baby, no one’s gonna hurt you.”

After a few minutes, Mia takes a deep breath and steps back, moving to sit on her bed and I follow, sitting next to her. “Padfoot is Harry’s godfather… Better known as Sirius Black,” Mia says quietly.

“What?” I say, surprised and turn to look at Mia.

“I’m gonna explain, it's a long story though, so just hang on, okay?” Mia says, setting the letters down on her nightstand and leaning abc against the headboard. I nod and lean against one of the posts of her bed, watching her intently as she tells me the story of her second to last night of fifth year. How she and Harry found out that Sirius Black is innocent and the person who betrayed her parents was actually Peter Pettigrew, who had been hiding as the Weasley family rat.

“We write to him as Padfoot in case the Ministry intercepts one, so… yeah,” Mia finishes with a sigh and I can’t help but laugh, a memory resurfacing suddenly. “What? I’m telling the truth!”

“No, I believe you, I just… So at that party last year when I asked if you had anything to do with Sirius Black escaping, well I just never thought you actually had!” I laugh, and after a moment Mia laughs too.

“Bloody hell, I forgot about that,” she laughs, but too soon the levity fades from her face, worry creeping back in. I move to lay next to her and pull her into my embrace. She lays her head over my chest and wraps her arms tightly around my waist as I do the same around her shoulder, holding her close to me.

“It’s gonna be okay,” I whisper into her hair, rubbing circles on her arm. “We’ll figure it out.” I hold her like this until her breathing evens out and she slips down into her dreams.

✦

The first thing I notice when I wake, is Mia is nowhere to be found.

a/n; ayo new banner!! i was spending way too much time trying to find the perfect gifs so i decided to make a banner instead. the amount of time i spent on those stupid letters is kinda ridiculous

taglist; @purplegardenwhispers @somethingswiftandstyles @weasleyreidstyles @mayamonroem @girlbooklover555 @abaker74 @stxrsberkshire

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #matteo riddle #hogwarts oc #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hp fanfic #hogwarts houses #wizarding world #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle smut #slytherin boys #goblet of fire #of violent d #of violent delights

29 notes · View notes