#Harry Potter fan fic

[sevenhusbandsofyn]

"𝐈 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮"

I OWN YOU | BOYFRIEND! TOM RIDDLE X READER | IMAGINE |  PAIRING: Boyfriend!Tom Riddle x Reader

SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend mouths something to you and your friends become curious about what he said. WORD COUNT: 352 WARNING(S): Dirty Talk? shocked besties, flirting.

AUTHORS NOTE: Saw a Mattheo version on tiktok and decided to write a Tom version.

The dimly lit Slytherin common room Y/N sat on a plush couch, sandwiched between her boyfriend, Tom Riddle, and Draco Malfoy, Theo Nott, and Blaise Zabini. The atmosphere was light-hearted, in stark contrast to Tom's typically reserved demeanor.

As they chatted and shared stories, Y/N couldn't help but notice Tom leaning in close, his lips moving silently as he mouthed something to her. Draco, Theo, and Blaise, ever observant, caught the subtle exchange.

Draco leaned over to Y/N, a mischievous glint in his gray eyes. "Did he just say 'I love you'?"

Y/N stifled a laugh, her gaze flickering to the intrigued trio. Theo and Blaise leaned in, eagerly awaiting her response. The prospect of Tom Riddle expressing love was a rare and intriguing occurrence, to say the least.

Y/N shook her head, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "No, he said, 'I own you.'"

Draco, Theo, and Blaise's eyes widened, their jaws nearly hitting the floor. They didn't know what shocked them more—the audacity of the phrase or the fact that Tom Riddle, known for his emotional restraint and lack of public displays of affection, had just smirked.

Tom observed the reactions of his friends with a self-satisfied grin, relishing the astonishment he had caused.

[sunburnhurts]

Bear lover || Cedric Diggory x fem!Reader

PART ONE PART TWO

Summary: Cedric and Y/n's parents are very close and they decide to go on a camping trip. Y/n and Cedric don't know each other in school, their paths never cross so they don't know they go to the same school. They have only met before on one of their parents get together's, but this get together will be very different. (Pretend cedric has a younger brother lolll).

Words: 2,754

All My Stories

A/n: Hey guys! So I just was on a small vacation, and im about to go on another one, but i wanna post something before I leave bc idk how well tumblr works on my phone, but I also wanted to make a longer story. So there is no promise of me posting all of it, it might have to be 2 parts so im so sorry loll.

Y/n finishes packing everything she needs for her camping trip. Toothbrush, toothpaste, clothes, hairbrush... Y/n thinks as she places the items in her bag, making sure she has everything she needs. A quiet knock on her door almost distracts her, but she finished her train of thought before she answered the door.

"I need help getting my bag." Y/n's little brother, Aaron, looks up at her with glossy eyes which indicated he was frustrated at something.

"Yeah of course Ronnie." Y/n says as she bends down and picks up her 6 year old brother. "Why so sad?"

"Mom said I can't bring more then 2 stuffed animals to the trip." He says with a trembling lip. "But I wanna bring 3." After he said that, tears broke loose from his eyes, making him stuff his head into Y/n's neck.

"Hey, don't worry about it." Y/n gives her brother a squeeze and he looks up at her. "Just put one in my bag, mom and dad don't have to know." She whispers to him and a huge smile is revealed on his red face and he hugs his sister. Y/n hugs and puts him down to get the stuffed animal he wanted.

Aaron runs back with a stuffed bear and places it on Y/n's bed. He then holds Y/n's hand as they walk to his room to get his bag from the top of his closet. Y/n reaches up on her tippy-toes and grabs it.

"Are you excited to see Leo?" Y/n asks as she turns around and places the bag on the toddlers bed. Leo is Cedric's 6 year old brother. Y/n always thought it was funny how her family and Diggory's family had kids at the same time, like it was planned.

"Yes! I can't wait for me, you, Cedric, and Leo to all play together!" Aaron smiles.

Y/n chuckles and says, "Don't get your hopes up, me and Cedric wont be able to play the whole time, 3 weeks is a while you know." Hearing this, Aaron frowns at the girl with begging eyes. "I can't speak for Cedric but I promise to play with you as much as I can!"

"You better!" He pouts, walking over to Y/n and holds her hand again. "Can we have ice cream before we leave?"

Y/n sighs and thinks for a moment. "Pinky promise you wont tell mom and dad?" She holds out her pinky with her unoccupied hand.

"Promise!" He says as he latches his finger with Y/n's.

~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n leans over and takes her thumb and wipes the chocolate ice cream in the corner of Aaron's mouth. She rolls her eyes playfully at her messy little brother, who almost got the 2 caught. The Y/L/N family was all in the car, heading to the camp ground.

Y/n's parents were talking to each other about the plans for what to make for food. Her dad said something about eggs, which made Y/n think of eating breakfast. She then went into deep thought about the upcoming trip.

She then thinks about the last time Y/n has saw Cedric, which was 5 years ago. She saw the Diggory family quite a lot, Leo and Aaron had a playdate the other week, but not Cedric. He was always too busy with other things to come visit the Y/L/N family.

She thinks about how young they both were, 11 and tiny. She thinks about how different she looked from now, and how it will be the same for Cedric.

Back when Y/n was 11, she thought Cedric was too cool for her until he approached and befriended her. They were at Y/n's house and were playing the whole time. They had the time of their life. By the time it was time for the Diggory's to leave, the 2 young kids were begging their parents to let them have a sleep over. When their parents said no, they said goodbye, not knowing they wouldn't see each other for another 5 years.

Y/n wondered if Cedric ever thought about that time. She hoped he did, Y/n always wished she could see Cedric again. In her first year of Hogwarts, her mind would wonder off in the middle of class, thinking about what he was doing. Little did she know they were both in Hogwarts, but they never saw each other and their parents never talked about it to them.

~~~~~~~~~~~

When the Y/L/N family arrives at the cabin, they notice the Diggory family wasn't there, so they decided to start unpacking the car. Y/n grabs both her and her brothers bags and walks into the cabin. She walks around, counting all the rooms and beds. 2 rooms for the parents, and 2 rooms which both had 2 beds for the kids.

Y/n places the bags on a table, unsure of where else to put them. As she does so, she hears a car turn into the cabin's rocky driveway. "Leo's here!" Aaron shouts, dashing to the front door. Nerves tingle Y/n's body as she waits for her old friend to reveal himself.

As Aaron opens the front door, the Diggory family stands right at the door with bags in their hands. Mr. and Mrs. Diggory's face light up as they see Aaron, who is holding the door open for them. The family walks into the cabin and says their hellos to everyone.

"Y/n! How have you been!" Mrs. Diggory says merrily and holds her arms out for a hug.

"I've been good! And yourself?" Y/n asks, returning her hug.

"I've been better, but I can't wait to spend the next 3 weeks with your family!" She responds, exiting the hug. "Cedric! Come say hi to Y/n! You guys haven't seen each other in forever!" Mrs. Diggory waves the boy over and Y/n gets a good look at him.

He is a lot different looking, his hair was longer, he was much taller, and much handsomer. Y/n wasn't afraid to admit that to herself, but certainly not to other people.

Cedric smiles and nods to the girl, saying, "Hey Y/n."

"Hey Cedric," Y/n returns the smile, "long time no see."

"Yeah, sorry about that, I've been super busy with school." Cedric laughs awkwardly as his mother walks away to say hi to the rest of Y/n's family, leaving the 2 alone.

Cedric looked into Y/n's eyes, taking in how much older she looks. More mature, tanner, and very pretty. Whenever his parents were talking about the Y/L/N family, he would always wonder how Y/n was doing. He felt bad for how much he couldn't see that family and he hoped they didn't think he was avoiding them.

"That's all right, I understand," Y/n gleams at the boy, "we have 3 weeks to catch up." Cedric lets out an airy laugh and nods as Y/n's parents come up to talk to Cedric.

As Cedric and Y/n's parents catch up about Cedric's life, Aaron and Leo run up to everyone. "Mom! Dad! Can me and Leo share a room!" Aaron says, interrupting whatever my Cedric was saying.

"As long as it's okay with Leo's parents." My mom says, fixing a hair on Aaron's head that was sticking up. She then looks to me and Cedric and says, "As long as it's okay with you guys to share a room too." Cedric and Y/n both look at each other and nodded in agreement.

"Yay!" The 2 young boys shout in union, running to one of the bedrooms.

Cedric finishes what he was saying before Aaron interrupted him, and Y/n grabbed Aaron and her bags and brought it to Ronnie's room. She then brings her bag to the other room and sets it on a random bed. She starts unpacking all her clothes, placing them in the empty drawer next to her bed. The 2 beds in the room were on opposite ends, both in corners. Y/n took the left bed, closest to a window.

Y/n finishes up unpacking as she hears the door open wider. She turns her head to the sound and sees Cedric walking into the shared room.

"Damn I wanted that bed." Cedric frowns playfully.

"Shoulda called dibs." Y/n says, shrugging her shoulders. Cedric snickers at the girl and walks over to the other bed. Y/n sits on her bed criss-crossed and watches as the boy starts unpacking his things. Y/n hears the voices of her and Cedric's moms entering the room, so she looks at them.

"Now kids," Mrs. Diggory starts as Cedric turns around and sits on his bed the same way Y/n is, "we know you kids are teenagers, but we are trusting you 2 to not do any-" She stops herself, not knowing a word to say.

"-'stuff'" Y/n's mom finishes. Y/n and Cedric share a look of disgust at their mothers.

"Momm." Y/n says shaking her head and looking away.

"I'm sorry Y/n, but as your mother I need to make sure I don't have a grandchild until I'm much older."

Y/n puts her elbows on her legs and buries her face in her hands. Cedric snorts at the situation, finding it funny how embarrassed Y/n is getting. Y/n hears his laugh and shoots her head at him. "This is not something to be laughing about!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Cedric laughs, putting his hands up in defense. Y/n rolls her eyes jokingly and laughs, looking at the 2 moms still standing at the door.

"They're so cute." Y/n and Cedric hears Cedric's mom whisper to Y/n's mom. After the 2 moms leave, Cedric and Y/n sit in silence for a few seconds. Cedric looks over at Y/n and sees something on her bed. He gets up and walks over to her, making Y/n look at him.

"Need a stuffed bear to sleep?" He asks, grabbing Aaron's bear and holding it up with a smirk. Y/n's face got flushed.

"No," Y/n gets up from her bed and reaches out for the stuffed bear, "it's Ronnies."

"Oh really? Then why was it in your bag?" He says, moving the bear out of reach.

"Because he could only bring 2 stuffed animals, but he wanted 3, so I packed one for him because I'm such a good sister." Y/n says, moving around to get the bear.

"That's a good fake story." Cedric teases. He knew it was true, but he found it funny annoying her about it.

"It's not fake! Ask Ron!" Y/n says defensively. She finally got a hold of the bear and Cedric let go, smirking.

"What ever you say, Bear lover!" Cedric walks away from the girl smiling into the room with the rest of the families. Y/n watches Cedric walk away and shakes her head, tossing the bear back on her bed and then following the boy into the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~

As the first day was ending, the Y/L/N and Diggory family sat around a fire made by Y/n's dad. Aaron and Leo were running around playing games with each other, Y/n and Cedric laughed at the 2 boys tiring themselves out. Y/n and Cedric were sitting next to each other on a bench facing the fire, making small talk about their lives.

"I'm glad we are on this trip, I don't know what I would be doing this summer." Y/n says, thinking about how she would have been in her room all day.

"Me too," Cedric says as he turns his head to look at Y/n, "I would probably hang with the Weasley's and loose my mind."Y/n looks up at him and laughs, thinking about the crazy Weasley twins.

Aaron runs up to the Y/n and begs, "Can we play hide and seek pleeeeaassee?" Y/n and Cedric look at each other and share a "why not" look.

"Yeah sure, Ronnie. I'll start counting, you guys can hide." Y/n says, purposfully leaving Cedric with the 2 younger boys.

Cedric shakes his head at the girl, "How dare you leave me with them."

"Shoulda called dibs!" Y/n says, watching as Cedric gets dragged by the hands of Aaron and Leo. She covers her eyes with her hands and start counting quietly. "1.. 2.. 3...." Once she got to 30, she gets up and walks away from the fire, feeling the coldness of the night air.

Y/n walks around the semi-dark yard, approaching a set of trees. She spots a yellow shirt peeking from behind a tree, just like the shirt Cedric's little brother was wearing. "Hmm, I wonder where Leo is," She says as she peeks behind the tree.

Leo looks up at Y/n and says, "How did you find me!"

"Lucky guess?" Y/n says as she reaches out for his hand. "I don't want you getting lost in the woods." Leo nods and latches his hand in the girls hand. "Do you know where Ronnie is?" Leo smiles, pulling Y/n over to a tall tower of logs.

Before she could peek behind the logs, a tall figure jumps out at the girl saying, "Boo!"

"AH!" Y/n says quickly before covering her mouth. She looks up at the figure, identifying it as Cedric and slaps his arm. "Do not do that!" The boy laughs and places a hand on the girls shoulder.

"Don't be such a scardy cat." He says as the girl smiles and shoves his hand off her shoulder.

"Whatever." She responds. Aaron walks out behind the pile of logs laughing at his older sister, causing his hair to get ruffled by the older girl.

After more rounds of hide and seek, it was time to go inside and get ready for bed. The adults were putting their youngest children to bed, and Cedric and Y/n were getting ready for bed. Y/n was changing into her pajamas in the bathroom, and Cedric was changing in the bedroom.

Once Cedric was done changing, he walks over to Y/n's bed, picking up the stuffed bear. "I see you kept your brothers bear." He says loud enough for Y/n to hear.

"Oh, I guess I forgot to give it to Ronnie." Y/n calls out, rolling her eyes at the boy.

"Mhmm," Cedric says in a sarcastic tone, taking the stuffed bear over to his side of the room. He sits on his bed with the bear in hand and looks down at it. Y/n opens the bathroom door and looks over at Cedric.

"Oh so now you want the bear?" Y/n jokes as she walks over to her bed.

Cedric nods, "Yeah it's actually a pretty cool bear, I don't think I could sleep without it now." Y/n shakes her head and goes under the covers.

"It's so cold in here." Y/n says aloud, not talking to anyone in particular.

"Put on a jumper." Cedric says, looking at the girl.

"I didn't pack one, I didn't think I would need it." Cedric pauses, then gets up and grabs one of his jumpers. He then tosses it to the girl and she gratefully accepts it. Cedric watches from his bed as the girl puts his jumper on and then goes back under the covers.

Y/n's mom and Cedric's mom peek their heads into the room, which catches the attention of Cedric and Y/n. "Goodnight kids." They both say.

"Goodnight mom." Y/n and Cedric say in union. The 2 moms turn the light off and closes the door. Y/n looks up at the ceiling, thinking about the eventful day, still tired from the long drive.

Cedric looks over at Y/n as he recalls a memory from when they were younger. "Remember when we were running around in your basement and you knocked into your mom's vase?"

Y/n turns her head to the boy, smiling at the memory. She was somewhat surprised that he remembered that. "You remember that?"

"Of course I remember, you have a scar on your arm in the exact spot you hit the table." Y/n's face turns red from how observant he was of the girl. "Did you ever get caught?"

Y/n turns her body to face the boy, responding with, "I said the cat knocked it over, but I don't think my mom believed it."

A breathy laugh came from Cedric and he adjusts his body to face Y/n. "Why haven't I ever seen you at Hogwarts?" Y/n asked. "Were you avoiding me?"

"How could I ever avoid THE Y/n Y/l/n?!" He jokes.

"That's what I was wondering!"

"I'm not sure why you haven't seen me, I'm at Quidditch most the time. Have you gone to any Hufflepuff matches?"

"I've gone to a few Gryffindor ones. I think I went to the one where Hufflepuff beat Gryffindor."

"You're welcome for that win." Cedric winks at Y/n.

"Wait," Y/n thinks for a moment, "you were the one that caught the snitch!" Cedric laughs and nods his head. "Wow I never knew I was in the presence of the king of Quidditch!"

"You might need to get my autograph or people wont believe you've met me!" Y/n snickers and turns her body to face the ceiling. "So Ms. Y/n, why have I not seen you at Hogwarts?"

"I'm not sure, I'm usually outside of my room, hanging with my friends."

"Maybe I've seen you, but not recognized you. You look a lot different you know." Cedric said, emphasizing the word "lot".

"In a good way, I hope." Y/n laughs.

"Yes," Cedric pauses for a second, still facing the girl. "in a good way."

Y/n smiles and says, "You look different too, you don't have those big glasses you used to have."

"You did not need to bring that up."

"Too late." Y/n smiles and blinks tiredly. There was a moment of silence before Y/n said, "Goodnight Cedric."

"Goodnight, bear lover." Cedric says, even though he is still holding the stuffed bear in his hand.

END OF PART 1

Not pre-read!

A/n: Hey guys! I'm going to be writing more tonight, but I can't promise to post it until I'm back from vacation, so I hoped you liked this! If it wasn't clear, Y/n and Cedric found out they went to the same school when they were talking at the fire. Thank you for reading and I'll be starting on the next part!

[lesservillain]

Coiled

Headmaster!Draco Malfoy x herbology professor!reader

Summary: More than a decade after the battle at Hogwarts, where Harry Potter saw to the end of the world’s most feared Wizard, Voldemort, the wizarding world has moved forward in relative peace.

Just like in the seats of the Ministry of Magic, the staff of Hogwarts has a seen change in staff over the last 12 or so years as the younger generation of Witches and Wizards take their places. The most notable being when Harry Potter himself returned after 5 years of traveling to take over as the permanent Defense against the Dark Arts teacher.

Like Harry, you’ve spent your years after graduation traveling and studying herbology. Your studies have made you a household name in wizarding Britain, but your most recent discoveries have your name starting to spread across the world.

Despite this, you were still surprised to receive such an invitation to interview as the new Herbology Professor after Sprouts retirement. As enticing as the offer sounds, are you truly ready for the way your life is about to change forever?

cw: Strangers to Lovers, two idiots in love, slight age gap (~7-8 years), Canon divergent (kinda?)Fred live/George dies, non-canon ships, basic understanding of the Potterverse. Each chapter will have its own individual warnings.

The Playlist(coming soon)

i. Time to Face the Change (coming soon)

[ribbons111]

Olivia Rodrigo: Obsessed

Matteo Riddle

Summary. Obsession with matteos ex leads to jealous butthurt feelings. Go with your gut!!

Warning. jealousy. obsession. toxic. angst. cheating.

The loud music rang in my head, backgrounding my thoughts.

My eyes burned and my heart flouted.

I felt fuzzy, drenched with overwhelming feelings.

I drowned myself in strong drinks, covering the buthurt poker face away.

I frowned, my eyes followed him from the end of the room.

He can not be serious right now.

I analyzed every look she gave out, every thought she might have, every smile, every wink, every word.

I stared at her, I wanted to get hurt.

I look back to Matteo, I frown at the way he laughs, his eyes lingering.

I know they both have moved on, they don’t even talk.

My fists balled up and my dress pulled up.

I flipped my hair away, fixing my lipstick before walking off, my heels clacking the wet floor.

Matteo smiled once he noticed me, his hand going out to hold my hips.

I pulled his collar, pushing his back towards the wall.

I kissed him roughly, swallowing him whole.

With the way he kisses me I know he loves me but I can’t help it I got issues.

Making sure I marked him well enough with my red lipstick I pulled away.

I smiled, kissing his cheek sweetly, noticing her in my peripheral vision.

I raised my finger, pushing the stray lipstick back into place onto my lips.

I grazed my painted nails on his toned chest.

“I’ll see you in bed,” I made sure to be heard before walking off, “your room.” a clear smirk on my lips, picking up another drink on my way.

BONUS!!

“Are you serious Matteo!?” I screamed, pushing his body away from mine “She sleeps on my side of the bed hasn’t she?! You brought her into your room! Onto your bed!”

“Are you seriously arguing over the smell of perfume on your side? You're honestly mental ” He ran his hands through his hair, furrowing his brows as he got off of his bed.

“That’s not my perfume Riddle and you know it!” I groaned, pulling down my sleave.

[honeydukesheroine]

Masterlist

Writings, author and fic recommendations

Multi-Chapter (WIP)

🏔️ The In-Betweens (6th Year)

Multiple POV (Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione). 115k+ words. Harry/Ginny. Ron/Hermione. Canon-compliant HBP missing moments, emotional landscaping, expansion on canon.

Short Fics

💫 One Shots

Missing Moments: The In-Betweens (6th Year): moments outside the main narrative Go With Grace: Ginny HBP/DH missing moment Holy Ground: Hinny, post-DH, Ginny's graduation Hush: Hinny, godfather!Harry

🍬 Microfics

Star: Hinny HBP missing moment Believe: Hinny HBP missing moment Secret: Ginny DH missing moment Stop: Ginny, motherhood Cheer: Potter family fluff Freeze: Potter family fluff

Inspirations and Fic Recs

🥂 Fic Authors & Artists That Inspire

FloreatCastullum GinFizz thegirlwhowrites642 GreenhouseThree Annerb blvnk

🌊 All Time Favorite Fics

Not From Others by FloreatCastullum Might Discuss the Match by FloreatCastullum Quidditch Is For Losers by GinFizz Ginny Weasley and the Half-Blood Prince by RRFang Orchards by Whinlatter Back to the Eclipse by thegirlwhowrites642 Twenty-Two Days by BrightlyBound

Thanks for reading! 🌤️

[artemisia-black]

Happy birthday to @merlinsbudgiesmugglers ♥️💋🥳🥳

In honour of the talented and lovely Merlin’s birthday, I made a moodboard of her fic, ‘A Hard Day’s night’ which is a fantastic Tedromeda series. I can’t recommend it enough- there’s angst, love, tension, grief. It’ll make you want to date Ted Tonks and leave you in awe of how indomitable Andromeda is.

Snippet:

The first time Ted notices Andromeda Black surely isn’t the first time he’s seen her.

The first time he notices her is at St Mungo's. August means the beginning of the training programs for healers and researchers, which means a month of dealing with bumbling newbie trainees who can’t tell their arse from their oesophagus. Fresh out of Hogwarts with a parchment full of Outstandings and all eager to prove that they deserve to be there.

Which means more work for everyone else.

[verybadatwriting]

A Strange Pair

Lestrange!ReaderXFred Weasley

Summary: Fred Weasly and Y/n Lestrange make things work, despite the familial differences

Warnings: Descriptions of reader’s hair, unsupportive parents, abusive parents, probably mentions of mass genocide, bad eating habits/food scarcity, nightmares, dislike of self (specifically hair)

Notes: Your dad in this story looks just like you do in real life, I just wanna make it abundantly clear that you look like you. IDK if I’m explaining it right. I tried to keep it gn, as usual.

Part 2

Gn!reader

Word count: 3,547

In all but two ways, you looked like your father. Same skin, eyes, everything. The two things that didn't line up, and that people always immediately noticed, was that you had your mother’s smile and her hair. Thick, curly, and quite untamable. Since your first year at Hogwarts, you’d been told both were too reminiscent of her.

Many people had serious grudges against your parents, especially your mother. That was completely understandable. You had never really liked her. Or maybe you loved her. Sometimes even you didn’t know. There were times when she was a monster, and others where she wasn’t quite loving, but better than the monster. It didn’t make sense, to you or to anyone else. 

Outsiders thought you would be just like her. A monster. Teachers included. All the (secretly) loyal Death Eaters thought you were too soft and not at all like the woman they’d fought alongside, and who had gained the Dark Lord’s attention. In your own family that was the sentiment. Not good enough. Too soft. Not Slytherin Enough.

When you were a toddler, you’d made the mistake of asking if she loved you.

“No.” She had replied simply, then elaborated, “You’re my flesh and bone. Even that’s not enough to make up for your nature. Additionally, love is a distraction. A distraction from the one thing that truly matters…” 

You’d run crying to your father, who simply told you that’s the way she was. That was the last time you cried. Later that day, you were sitting with your aunt Narssissa and her newborn son. As you listened to her baby-talk to him, you started to resent your mother. You once overheard her say she expected you to be one of the small burned marks on the Black Family Tree. 

That resent didn’t pass during the war, or your parent’s sentencing for the torture of the Longbottoms, it only grew. For four years you lived with the Malfoys. Draco saw you as an older sibling, and you saw him as a tragically misguided child. In those four years you became disillusioned with the Death Eaters, mainly after more research into the attack on the Longbottoms. 

During your first two years at Hogwarts you befriended the Weasley twins, who were in the same year as you. Fred liked you and vice versa, and by your fifth year you were a couple. His mom didn’t approve, and you doubted your mother would either. You didn’t care, nor did he.

The outside observer couldn't fathom why you were together, you seemed like complete opposites. He was the life of the party, from a big family that fought on the right side of the war. In fact, the only thing you seemed to have in common was the nack for getting into trouble, especially with that wretched new pink-clad teacher. Umbridge.

You knew of the twin’s plan to set off fireworks and start a shop. The night before they enacted it, you and Fred were cuddled up on a couch in the Gryffindor common room, late at night. George sat across from you two.

“And then we’ll make our grand exit!” Fred said.

“Along with dropping fliers for our store.” George said.

“I think that Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes will be the most popular shop in Diagon Alley.” You said.

“At least among trouble-making youngsters.” George added. You three chuckled for a moment.

“Where are you going for the holidays?” You asked.

“We’ll probably stop by our mum’s house.” Fred said, “Unless she completely flips out about us deserting school and disowns us.” He realized what he’d said and sucked in a quick breath. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You said, “I don't think your mom would do something like that. Setting off a few hundred fireworks and leaving school isn’t the worst thing you two have done.” 

The twins laughed, and made sure not to be too loud. You were not supposed to be in their common room and someone finding out about the three of you meeting would have had disastrous consequences.

Around midnight George turned in for the night, and advised you and Fred to do the same.

“We will.” Fred said, “Just a few more minutes.” George went up the stairs, leaving Fred and you curled up on the couch together. After a few moments of silence, you spoke.

“If you and George want to stop by over Christmas…” You said, “Here’s where to find me.” You pulled away slightly to scribble down an address on a slip of paper and handed it to him along with an envelope with a key in it.

“It’s not the biggest apartment, but there’s enough room for three.”

“Thanks, love.” He kissed the crown of your head, “We really should get to bed, George and I need to be rested up.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Freddie.” You said.

“I will too.” He echoed, “Now that I have this,” He waved the slip of paper, “We’ll be seeing eachother often.”

The next few months flew by, like the twins had flown from Umbridge. You kept your head down at Hogwarts, and worked hard. Fred and George often sent letters, and you sent many as well. Over the summer, the letters were filled with invitations to visit them. Sadly, you had to decline. You were working your butt off to keep your apartment. Rent had gone up drastically.

You and your cat lived in an apartment in the Muggle side of London over the breaks. It was pretty nice, although strangely shaped. The entryway had a bedroom on the right, then it opened into a kitchen/living/dining room with windows. If you continued going forward from the door, the wall curved to the right ever so slightly, the bathroom’s on your left, and at the end of the hall is a second, smaller, bedroom.

It was always empty. It had furniture, chairs, beds, and such. All you brought with you each visit was a single suitcase enchanted against water, fire, and anything else you and Dumbledore could think of. That contained all your documents, money, a few prized possessions, and photos.

You had to save up enough to send rent while you were at Hogwarts, so that you could move back in during the breaks. All summer you worked tirelessly. Fred’s letters were what kept you going.

A lonely school year started in September 1996. After what felt like an eternity of studying and ignoring Umbridge, Winter Break finally rolled around. You briefly made eye contact with Mrs. Weasley on Platform 9 ¾. She glared at you, and you continued on your way.

You went home to your apartment, with arrangements to start work the next day. All you could do was head to bed. The next morning you woke up at five thirty to get to work. By six you were out the door. 

Six to six forty was commuting. Very different from Hogwarts, where you often didn’t have to leave the building. Crammed into the Tube, you didn’t even get a seat. After a hellish morning commute you got to the cheap chain restaurant you worked at every break.

Over your lunch break your boss pulled you aside.

“Hi Y/n.” He said, “It’s lovely to have you back, such a hard worker… Anyway! We’re cutting your hours.”

“What.” You said.

“We’ve learned to manage well enough without you.”

“Sir, we had an agreement.”

“I know…” He said, “Things change, plus we never signed anything official. I can still get you some hours, but they’ll be at odd times. Not enough people are signed up for the midnight to seven for tomorrow. I can get you that shift for sure and you’ll get at least seven hours a day.”

Somehow managing to not flip out at your manager, you politely nodded.

“Does today’s shift have the usual times?”

“Yes, you’ll get off at four.” He said, “Speaking of which, get to work.”

 

Hours later, after changing out of your slightly greasy uniform and folding it in the bottom of your bag, you left work to do two things. Get food for the week, and see if there was any way to make some more money. If you only got seven hours going forward there was no way you’d be able to keep the apartment.

Six pm rolled around and you walked into your apartment. You’d had no luck with getting a second job, especially since your availability during the school year was nonexistent. You did pick up a few packs of instant noodles and some cat food. At least your pet would be happy.

Turning the handle, your cat acknowledged you by lifting her head.

“Thanks for the warm welcome.” You said, “I brought dinner for you. It looks like it’s just us. Again.” You opened the food and plonked a bit in her bowl. While she ate, you thought about making a packet of the noodles, and decided against it. 

For all his failings, your manager was always alright with the workers sneaking a sandwich every now and then. You’d just eat in six hours when you got to work. That would have to do. You crawled into bed to sleep for a few hours.

Something woke you up. It was the sound of someone trying to navigate somewhere without being too loud. There was a knock at your bedroom door.

“Hey? Y/n?” A familiar voice said.

“What if we have the wrong house?” Said another.

“Then the key wouldn’t have worked, George.” Said Fred, “I thought my twin would be a bit smarter. Honestly.”

“Freddie?” You asked, opening the door.

“The one and only.” The two of you embraced in a kiss and stayed like that for a moment. Then you heard George bumbling around in the kitchen.

“Oh Merlin.” You sighed, “What on earth is your brother doing?”

“I don’t know.” Fred said, “Do we want to go find out?”

Turns out he was cooking. 

“Hi Y/n!” He said, “I’m making dinner. This fellow,” He motioned to Fred, “Was so set on getting here as soon as possible that he didn’t let us stop to eat! I’m making some for you too.”

“Oh George.” You said, “It’s fine, I’ll eat when I go to work.”

“That’s hours away!” He protested. “Do you just not like my cooking?”

“Fine.” You said, jokingly angry. “I’ll join you, but I’ve got to get to bed soon.”

“Why?” Fred teased, “Got a hot date?”

“No!” You guffawed, “I got the late shift at work. It starts at midnight.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, love.” He said.

“Y/n,” George said, “I suggest you get some rest. It’s nearly ten thirty right now and, with all due respect, you need some sleep.”

“Jeez, I look that bad?” You chuckled.

“Georgie,” Fred said, “I’m gonna go make sure they actually sleep.” He slung his arm around your shoulder. A few moments later, you were snuggled in bed together. He was the big spoon, and had one arm looped around your waist while the other served as a pillow. Silence settled for a while.

“Your hair’s in my mouth.” He said. This happened a lot when you were the little spoon. Another reason to hate your hair. You adjusted a little and that fixed it. As Fred was drifting off to sleep, he murmured something.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Freddie.”

Eleven thirty came about, and your alarm woke you up. Quietly, you tried to remove Fred’s arm and slip away without waking him up. You were unsuccessful. 

“Hmm?” He tightened his arm, “What’s going on?”

“I’m just going to work,” You yawned, exhausted.

“Do you have to?”

“Yes,” You replied, still gently trying to move his arm. “It’s how I can afford to keep this apartment.”

“Do you have to?”

“Do I have to keep my apartment?”

“Yeah.” He sleepily nodded.

“Fred,” You sighed, “It’s where I live.”

“I know, but that could change.”

“Where else would I go?”

“George and I have an apartment, a lot like this one, right above our shop.” He said, “There’s only two beds, but personally, I wouldn’t mind sharing with you.” You thought for a moment, not quite sure if this was the ramblings of a sleepyhead who wanted more cuddles, or if Fred was serious.

“Well.” You said, “My boss will wonder where I am.”

“Just call and say you’re sick.” He yawned, “Or say there’s a family emergency.”

“I suppose that could work. Either way, I have to get out of bed.” Reluctantly, Fred lifted his arm. Within minutes you were back, and snuggled next to him again.

Fred awoke to you suddenly sitting bolt-upright, soaked in sweat and looking really shaken up. He sat up next to you, and slowly took your hands in his.

“Hey Y/n.” He said, “You’re okay. You’re safe.” Your initial instinct was to pull away, until the more rational side of your brain took over and you remembered that Fred wasn’t a threat. 

“It’s okay,” He repeated, “Can you take some deep breaths, love? There you go. Good job.” You leaned onto him, relieved to have some form of comfort.

“Do you wanna talk about it, or lie back down?” He asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” You whispered.

“That’s alright.” He soothed, “We can stay like this.” And you did. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you until you were ready to talk about the nightmare.

“It was… Well not quite a flashback,” You said, “I was there again. The cold walls. The firelight. Everything was the exact same…” You trailed off.

“Same as when?” Fred asked.

“Same as it was the first time.” You replied. This only slightly confused Fred, you had mentioned the ‘times’ a whole lot, although you never went into detail. This time, you told him all of it.

“I was an infant.” You continued, “Crying simply because that’s what babies do. That demon – my mother – used Crucio on me.” 

Fred sucked in an involuntary sharp breath.

“I eventually learned to stop crying. For good.”

“Oh God…” Fred said, “Y/n. I’m…” He trailed off and hoped his message would get through as he pressed a kiss to your head. 

“Thanks.” You said, “Let’s lie down now.”

“Of course.”

You awoke late in the morning. At first you panicked, thinking you’d drastically overslept, but then you felt Fred next to you and remembered it was alright. George was cooking breakfast, and when he heard the two of you waking up he poked his head in.

“Morning love birds,” He said, “What do you want to eat?”

“Uh,” You said, “I don’t have anything here. Just a few instant ramen packets.”

“Psh,” George said, “Silly of you to assume we didn’t bring food. I suggest you have pancakes, there’s some from the first batch on the table.” He left the room.

Throughout the day Fred insisted you relax. You found out he was completely serious about inviting you to live with them. In the afternoon, you contacted your boss to say you were moving. He threw a hissy fit because you gave such short notice.

“Well, sir,” You replied, “You seemed to be getting along just fine without me. I had the option to completely ghost you and never speak to you again. I’ll be there to return my uniform later today.” And then hung up the phone. 

“Freddie?” You said, “I need to make a quick run to work and drop off my uniform, wanna come?”

“Of course.” He said, “Is George joining us?”

“Only if he wants.”

The three of you walked down to the nearest Tube station. You bought the twins their own cards, and showed them how they worked. Unlike your usual commutes, this Tube trip was enjoyable. Fred and George were amazed at the underground trains, and how scanning a flimsy piece of paper caused the turnstiles to open. 

That night you called the Knight Bus to get to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. On the ride you discussed their plans for Christmas. Their mom had invited them over Christmas Day. The only reason they weren’t there right now is because they were waiting for a reply. 

“Why do you need a reply from her?” You asked, “You’ve already been invited.”

“I wanted to know if you could come with us.” Fred said. “I expect there’s a letter waiting patiently for us back home.” 

Sure enough, there was a letter carefully slid underneath the door. It was from Mrs. Weasley, who begrudgingly extended the invitation to you.

‘If it is necessary for the Lestrange child to come too, I suppose it’s alright.’ She went on to threaten you with bodily harm if you stepped a foot out of line. After reading the letter, Fred lead you to his room. Or rather, your shared room. 

He showed you an empty bureau you could put your stuff in. To his surprise, you only had two extra shirts and pants. It didn’t even fill a single drawer. Later that evening, the three of you used the floo network to travel to the Burrow. 

Polite conversation filled the rooms. Mr. Weasley was very interested in the Muggle world, and was thoroughly enjoying listening to you, Fred, and George explain the underground train system. He had many questions, which bored his wife and helped her lose her death-glare at you. 

Over the course of a few hours she interacted with you once or twice, mainly saying things like ‘excuse me’ when she passed you in a narrow hallway. She did see you and Fred sitting together on the couch, and once again glowered in your direction.

“The way you two flirt is shameful.” She muttered, just loud enough for you and Fred to hear. In reply he simply wrapped an arm around your shoulders and continued the conversation like nothing had happened.

You met a woman named Nymphadora, who insisted everyone call her Tonks. The conversation started when she commented on your hair. With more than a little shame, you told her it was from your mother’s side of the family. It turned out you and her were cousins, although her mother was disowned.

“Oh that’s fun.” You said, “I’m disowned too!” Both of you laughed about it. 

“Yeah, that family really sucks.” Tonks said.

“Tell me about it.” You replied. Eventually the time came, and you went to bed. Through the thin walls you heard Mrs. Weasley fighting with Fred. Muffled voices attacking and defending you.

“I want that demon-spawn out of my house!”

A quiet reply.

“Well go and live with them then! See what I care.”

Fred replied again, just barely audible this time.

“But I love them.”

In the morning Mrs. Weasley looked more pissed than ever that you had the audacity to exist. Despite this, she made Christmas wonderful for everyone. The food was delicious, the spirit was there, blocking out the troubles of the outside world, if only for a little bit.

Evening fell. The next morning you would head back to the twin’s shop, just a few more hours without angering Mrs. Weasley any more and you’d be in the clear. Right as Tonks and Remus were saying their goodnights, a ball of fire rained down from the sky! Your cackling mother appeared out of a cloud of black smoke and the fire encircled the Burrow. As quick as she’d come, she disappeared over the wall of fire.

Harry tried to sprint after her, but you shoved past him. You thrust yourself through the fire, weapons drawn, and slung a knife at your mother’s shoulder. It hit with a sickening ‘thunk.’

“Your aim’s improved.” She said, withdrawing the knife and throwing it back, aiming for your torso. You nimbly caught it. 

“What’s wrong?” She teased, “Not happy to see Mummy?” You chucked another knife at her, this time she caught it midair.

“I see. Giving me the silent treatment.” She nodded. 

“Shut up.” You said, as you chased her further into the tall grass.

“Are you sure you want to stay here and play with me?” She asked, “Don’t you want to make sure your friends are okay? Fenrir sometimes plays a little rough…”

“I said shut up.” You lunged at her, and managed to get in a few good blows before she slashed you across the cheek and rolled to her feet.

“Any particular reason you’re not using magic?” Bellatrix questioned, “I always suspected you were a filthy squi-” At that moment, a jet of flame erupted into the air from the Burrow, and she used your distraction to escape, her cackles ringing in the air.

You rushed back towards the fire, only to see the whole group standing outside the now-burning Burrow. A heartbeat passed as everyone watched the blazing house, then Mrs. Weasley turned to you.

“You.” She spat, “You lead them to us. You are just like your mother. Sick! Get out. Now! Leave!” Molly was near hysterics, her husband was barely able to hold her back from attacking you. 

“Bye Freddie, I’ll see you at home.” You tossed a handful of Floo powder onto the burning Burrow and stepped in. The last word was directed at both Fred, and the fire. A whirlwind of green and you were back in the attic of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. 

“I guess this is home now.”

[assorted-fics]

Fics of the Month

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Zuko Has A Cat (Or More Accurately, A Cat Has Zuko) by Stressball

Instead of being exiled on a boat, Zuko is dropped off in the Earth Kingdom. Eventually a certain crazy old lady finds him, and he is subsequently adopted by her cat. Based on an idea by MuffinLance

We Dance To Fast Music by entity9silvergen

Zuko didn’t like to dance. Neither did Mai. But Ty Lee did and they’d do it for her. Fortunately for them, Ty Lee cared about how they felt and wanted to show them just how wonderful music could be. All Zuko and Mai knew were slow dances, the things of ballrooms and romance. Ty Lee only knew the dances of friendship, freedom, and fun.

The Family You Choose by TunaFishChris

Some people are born with soulmarks. Zuko has them, but his grandfather burned them off because they "make you weak."

Team Avatar has a few things to say about that.

An Age of Blossoms by agustsea

Sokka has been an unfortunate victim to many uncomfortable realizations in his life.

When he was sixteen it went like this. The deranged, reckless, fire-breathing prince that chased them across half the world was, as little as Sokka wanted to admit it at the time, actually kind of cool. Now, he’s twenty one, sparring across from that same prince– now a king– in a small courtyard at the heart of the Fire Nation, and he realizes that not only is the Fire Lord actually kind of cool, he’s also really pretty.

OR

After the war, Sokka goes to the Southern Water Tribe to help his people rebuild. Five years later, he accepts the role of ambassador to the Fire Nation and returns to a city and a man that are almost unrecognizable.

Spider-Man x The Fantastic Four

Super Hero After School Club by YouWannaGoBro

When the Fantastic 4 are saved by a scrawny nerd who appears to have no idea that he has super strength, how else could they return the favor but to help him understand and control his powers? In which Sue, Ben, and Reed are trying really hard to prevent this kid with powers from turning into another weirdo New York street super villain, Peter is trying to pretend he hasn't been doing the hero thing longer than all the Fantastic 4 members combined, and Johnny is trying to get a hot date.

Weaving Spiders Come Not Here by Mizzy

People are treating Peter oddly. Really oddly. It turns out they're being nice to him because they think his boyfriend cheated on him. …with Spider-Man. It's honestly quite tiring pretending to be jealous of yourself.

Trial by Fire by Iamujerarana

Johnny's been more of a pest than usual lately, and Peter can't figure out why, or what's with all of his truly bizarre behavior. Or, Johnny tries to ask Peter out in the most outrageous ways, and Peter's too horrified (and busy fantasizing about murdering Johnny) to understand what's happening. ***** Knives, Peter decided as he watched Johnny sweet-talk the concierge. When he killed Johnny, knives would be involved. Or maybe swords. Like, the giant curvy kind. Johnny flashed his most charming smile at the concierge No, Peter thought, scowling at Johnny. There would definitely be poison. Johnny slid his finger along the concierge's hand, and the concierge blushed red. The really painful kind of poison, Peter thought. The kind that made your insides shrivel up. Screaming in pain, the whole bit.

Avengers x Daredevil

My Guardian Avengers (Can I Get a Refund) by prettybirdy979

‘I can see you have it,’ Captain America says in a deadpan that would put Brett to shame. Matt just grunts at him. You know what? If these arseholes want to deal with the scum of Hell’s Kitchen, they can deal with it. The man stumbles to his feet and half walks, half falls in Matt’s direction. Matt just looks at Captain America with a dark smile. ‘You want to deal with these assholes? They’re all yours.’ * Or Daredevil needs to protect a certain law firm in Hell's Kitchen. He's a little slack about protecting this Matt Murdock fellow though, and the Avengers are only too happy to step in to help. Matt is SO not okay with this. (Shut up Foggy, so what if it's his own fault!)

Avengers

tell me what you want what you really really want by mindshelter

First Fic: if you wanna be my lover (you gotta get with my friends)

MJ still remembers Ned’s initial disbelief when Peter—infamous for missing class back in sophomore year, suspended for two weeks freshman year—finished his bit of the group write-up four days early. The work was perfect, and so was Ned's chemistry grade. After that it was Peter this, Peter that, Peter parted the Red Sea, it’s true, MJ, I was there; I saw it. MJ, hey, are you listening?

Then Ned says, “We should invite Peter to join AcaDec.”

or;

peter isn’t rock bottom on midtown’s social ladder; he’s underground. friendless, rumoured to get into street fights. ned declares him bestie material anyway, and mj catches feelings.

she also meets tony stark(?) in foodtown, of all places, and makes a spider-man(??) sighting.

Tremors and Tribulations by Fernandidilly_yo

Tony feels a prickling behind his eyes as the man continues on about Howard Stark and his greatness. He feels breathless as he stares at his mother’s coffin. He feels lightheaded as he stands here, the only Stark left in existence.

Tony takes a deep breath of frigid air and slips the sunglasses on with fumbling fingers. And then, when his hands won’t stop trembling, won’t stop giving him away, Tony stuffs them into his pockets. Pretending for the world that he isn’t falling apart, because that’s what he’s supposed to do.

(Or: Nine times that Tony Stark's hands shook, and one time they held steady)

how long until spring (i miss you) by mindshelter

It’s nothing personal – they just didn’t know each other; she usually belonged in another sphere than him, in posh galas, dull board meetings, catching snatches of sleep on overseas flights. He was decades younger, a burst of energy and intelligence that Tony wanted to hone, nurture, and keep close to the ground for as long as he could.

So, when she approaches Peter on the lake house’s dock, both of them swathed in black and sorrow and asks if he wants to join her inside to see the message Tony left behind, he says no.

(set immediately after endgame.)

This Isn’t A Love Song, This Isn’t A Fable by rayrae118

Steve's not OK with people's perception of Captain America, no matter what he says or how much he pretends otherwise. It's like no one in this time period realizes that there's more to him than a spangly outfit. And yes, he's including the Avengers in that.

... or, the one where everything's all right, until it's not.

Series Held Together

First Fic: Held Together by Spiderwebs by TunaFishChris

Steve is not coping well in the twenty-first century. At all. Three months after the Chitauri invasion, he decides he's had enough.

But just as he's about to end it all, he runs into the new hero in town.

Welcome to Planet Queer by TunaFishChris

The Parkers have never really talked about sexuality of the LGBTQ+ community. Neither positive nor negative things. So Peter had hoped that when he told Aunt May that he prefers boys that she wouldn't do something drastic and out of the blue, like kick him out, as if she were a queerphobic Transformer.

Except now, he's on the street, and has no idea what to do next.

Luckily, the Avengers have his back.

(Un)Fortunate Circumstances by lomku

Or how Steve wakes up from the ice in the SHIELD facility, runs into Tony, and kind of kidnaps him in his bid for freedom.

Harry Potter

Hogwarts, to welcome you home by gedsparrowhawk (FaceChanger)

“You understand, Professor,” Harry began, after a moment, “that I don’t have my N.E.W.T.s. I never even finished seventh year. Between everything, I never had a chance the first time around, and then afterwards there didn’t seem to be much point. Hermione argued for it, of course, but I was so tired of Britain. So technically, I am completely unqualified for the position.”

“Quite a way to begin an interview, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, dryly.

Or, three years after the war, Harry Potter becomes Hogwarts' newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

A Young Radical’s Guide to Love by Blamebrampton

Memories of the war are still fresh, which is all the excuse Decent People need to do appalling things. In this quietly waged conflict, Draco Malfoy is happy to be on the right side of things for once, and even happier to find he’s not alone.

Doing the Lamberto Walk by Blamebrampton

There are only three traditional choices for the cashed-up hero after victory. Harry Potter is too young to settle down and provide the wizarding world with a happy ending, and has too acute a sense of humour to spiral downwards into a spectacular flame-out. That leaves a life of good works. Choosing to lead it in Muggle Brixton comes with its own set of challenges, including Malfoys in the biscuit aisle.

The Spellmaker by SonnyGietzel

Latin; a dead language with no practical applications except perhaps the deciphering of old texts and as a particularly quaint party trick. Thankfully, as Harry finds out, Latin is not as dead as he was first taught when he decided to learn the language. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, of course; he loved Latin, and would have been proud to know it even had it been as useless as it was pretty. But in the world of Wizards, the world of Magic, Harry realizes his rare talent with words is particularly valuable, and allows him to use magic that no one's ever heard of, that no one's ever seen. But as time goes on, and he becomes more and more entangled in the webs spun by those around him, he starts to realize just how deep the magical rabbit hole goes and how dangerous power like his can be. All Harry had ever wanted was for the world to make sense.

[lost-in-beacon-hills]

I just want to read a magical!Dudley AU in which he gets sorted into Slytherin. Harry still stays in Gryffindor. Draco befriends Dudley because it's very clear they both hate Harry.

I want to see Dudley dragged into the war. Vernon and Petunia face their own bigotry. To see how that would affect Dudley as a person and his relationship with Harry. See them freeze out their son giving him the Harry treatment, and watch Dudley slowly come to terms with how hatefully he was raised.

Even better if he finally comes around AFTER Cedrics death. He could believe Harry. Which would be made harder by Dracos decent into the Dark Arts and Death Eater mentality. One of Dudleys only friends suddenly turns against him. But it's not too much of a surprise because of all the mud blood rhetoric he spouts.

And then, just when he thinks it's getting easier, Harry has to run away to hide from Voldemort. Dudley has to hide and is mildly successful in doing so. But it leaves him shaken and guilty. And THEN when Harry's finally back he has to watch him die.

After everything he watches his cousin die for the greater good.

Idk just something to think about. I need Dudley Dursley redemption.

[thebeesareback]

I am not a fan fiction person.

I know this is not going to make me a lot of friends on Tumblr.

I appreciate that lots of art and literature is inspired by other art and literature, as well as real life, mythology and religions. I think perhaps there's a scale, and on one end there's the cliched "my mum sold me to One Direction" and at the other end there's Wide Sargasso Sea. I love Wide Sargasso Sea.

Nevertheless, as a teenager in the early 2010s, I took a gander at AO3 and Wattpad. Some of the original stuff was pretty good! I did, however, also come across some Harry Potter smut. This included a sex scene between Sirius Black and an original character. The author took the time to describe the OCs underwear. It was a thong, fine, but in Griffindor colours.

TF?!

Where on *Diagon Alley* are you buying this? Did she go to Madam Milkins and have it custom made? Did OC make it herself? Did she scour M&S looking for exactly the right shade of gold?

This moment has lived rent free in my head for 13 years. I've done my time. 13 years. I want answers.

[hogwartseighthyear]

in fics where remus and/or sirius raise harry why do some people hate when they call him cub or pup like. i think it’s cute ☹️

[sevenhusbandsofyn]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐘𝐍: 𝐇𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ Welcome to my Blog!!

I must caution you that my works mostly contain dark content, so please do not interact with or read my fics if you are under 18. The links below will take you to the various masterlists of my works.

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𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ⟡ OPPOSITES ATTRACT: Tom and Y/n grow up at Hogwarts together, but what happens when Voldermort finds out who Y/ns parents are?

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 ⟡ COMING SOON

[sunburnhurts]

Broken Promise || Cedric Diggory x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n finds out about Cedric entering his name into the Goblet of Fire after she told him not to, and now they are having their first argument of their relationship.

Words: 707

All My stories

A/n: Hey guys I need requests bc I have no idea of what to write... I have drafts of things I wrote but idk what I think about them and I don't feel like re-writing it yet, so I need requests lol, but no smut. This idea is so basic so idk if anyone has already done this so if someone has just lmk!

"You must be joking." Y/n says, looking at her boyfriend who just suggested that he would put his name into the Goblet of Fire. Cedric casually brought it up in conversation while walking to breakfast, catching Y/n off guard.

"I'm not, Y/n. I want to represent Hogwarts in the tournament." Cedric says, while holding Y/n's hand.

"Cedric, you're going to get hurt or killed. Please promise me you wont put your name in the fire." Y/n pleads to her boyfriend while giving him a concerned look.

Cedric sighs and says, "Okay, I wont put my name in, I promise." He squeezes her hand and smiles at her.

Y/n smiles back and is glad she doesn't have to worry about him dying. The couple arrives in the Great Hall and they both part ways, Cedric going to the Hufflepuff table and Y/n going to the Gryffindor table.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"I hope Fred asks me, I don't want to go alone." Y/n's friend, Angelina, says as they walk to their shared class, talking about the upcoming ball.

"He better, he would be missing the time of his life if he doesn't." Y/n replies, thinking about if Cedric will ask her or if it's just a given that they are going together since they are dating.

"You're lucky, you have a built in date. And you're even luckier since it is Cedric Diggory!!" Angelina squeals. Just like every girl at Hogwarts, Angelina knew Cedric was a very good looking guy, and she was so happy when Y/n told her about Cedric asking her out.

Y/n chuckles at her friend, replying with, "I hope he asks me and he doesn't just assumes we are going together. Just because we are dating, I still want to be asked."

"He doesn't seem like the person to just assume, Y/n."

"You're right, I'm just over thinking it." Y/n gets quiet for a second, debating weather or not to bring up Cedric wanting to enter his name into the Goblet of Fire. Before she could bring it up, the Weasley twins approach the 2 friends.

"Ladies," George nods to both girls. Angelina and Y/n smile at them and nod back.

"Hey George, Fred," Y/n starts, confused at the random approach, "What's up?"

"Well, Freddie boy has something to ask Angelina." George says, nudging his brother.

"Um, would you like to go to the ball with me?" Fred asks shyly, which is very unlike him. Y/n smiles and looks at her best friend, waiting for her response.

"Yeah, of course Fred!" Angelina bursts into a big smile, her cheeks growing red. Fred takes a sigh of relief and untenses himself.

"Thank Godric, that would have been embarrassing if you said no." Fred smiles, causing the 3 to laugh.

George turns to Y/n and asks, "Did you know if Cedric is chosen you and him have to dance in front of the whole school?"

Unsure of what George is referring to, she asks, "What are you talking about?"

"If Cedric is chosen for the Triwizard Tournament, at the ball you and him will do a dance." Fred replies.

"But he's not putting his name in the Goblet of Fire?" It wasn't a question, but Y/n was very confused. The 4 friends shared the same puzzled look, unsure of the situation.

"But he just..." George starts.

"did put his name in, right after we tried to." Fred finishes, laughing. "You didn't know?"

"He promised me he wouldn't put his name in." Y/n says in a quieter tone, her heart sinking thinking about his broken promise. Her eye brows furrowed, her head becoming a bit fuzzy.

"Oh, I'm sorry Y/n." George says, rubbing Y/n's shoulder with a pity face.

"Oh, that stupid git." Angelina says, getting upset for her friend.

"He's not a git, he's just," Y/n starts, bringing a hand to her face and rubbing her eye and letting out a sigh, "I don't know."

"I'm sorry Y/n," Fred says with a the same pity look George has, "but we have to go." Angelina and Fred share a smile at each other and the twins leave.

"What are you going to do, Y/n?" Angelina questions as the 2 friends continue walking.

"I honestly don't know," Y/n thinks for a second before continuing, "it's just that he broke his promise. I wish he said something before doing it, like to warn me or something."

Angelina locks arms with her best friend trying to comfort her, "I didn't see Cedric as the type to break promises."

"Me neither." Y/n says, putting her head on her friends shoulder as they walked.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was now the end of the day and Y/n hasn't seen Cedric since breakfast. She wasn't avoiding him, but she also didn't want to see him.

Y/n is in the middle of writing an essay for one of her classes in the library when Cedric approaches her. He pulls out the chair next to her and sits in it, waiting for her to address him. When Y/n doesn't say anything and shows no attention to him, he knits his eyebrows and says, "What are you writing?" It was a stupid question but he wanted to start conversation.

"An essay." Y/n responds in a plain tone, not looking up from her paper. This behavior confuses Cedric even more.

"Y/n, love, what's wrong?" The oblivious boy asks. Y/n looks at him, with a face that shows she was shocked and upset.

"'What's wrong?' Are you seriously asking me that?" Y/n hisses at him. The boy just sits there confused until it hits him.

"So you heard what I did?" He says, referring to him putting his name in the Goblet. Y/n nods, obviously annoyed. His heart sinks a bit. "I'm sorry, Y/n." He looks at her sincerely. Y/n huffs a sigh and shakes her head.

"Why didn't you talk to me before you did it? I would be a lot less upset if you didn't break your promise!"

"You're right, I'm sorry. I should have talked to you, I shouldn't have promised if I knew I was going to do it. I sent a letter to my dad and he seemed like he really liked the idea of me being a champion, and I guess I didn't want to disappoint him." Cedric grabs both Y/n's hands as he explains. "I'm so sorry Y/n, I just really want to do it."

Y/n takes in what he was saying and asks, "When were you going to tell me? Where you just going to let me hear your name from Dumbledore's mouth when he announces the champion?"

"I mean, I was going to tell you eventually. A lot of people from Hogwarts put their name in, so there is a low chance of me being picked." Cedric says, reassuring Y/n. Y/n looks at the boy and thinks about what he told her.

"I can't control you, and if you really want to do something I shouldn't keep you from doing it. I don't want you to get hurt in the tournament. Just next time please just talk to me before you do something like that."

"Yes, of course, thank you Y/n." Cedric says as he drops Y/n's hands and hugs her. She hugs back, silently praying he isn't picked.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was time to announce the champions from each school, and Y/n was sitting next to her best friend Angelina. The suspense was killing the pair, but mostly Y/n.

Once Dumbledore was about to announce the champion representing Hogwarts, Angelina grabbed Y/n's hand and gave it a squeeze. Y/n held her head in her hand and her leg was shaking under the table. Anyone that looked at her could obviously tell she was extremely nervous for the name Dumbledore was going to say.

The Goblet of fire spat out a paper that contained the name of the Hogwarts champion. Y/n took a breath, waiting for Dumbledore to hurry up and read the paper.

"The Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory!" Dumbledore announced and people started cheering and clapping. Y/n sighed, picking her head up from her hand and looked towards the Hufflepuff's table, looking for her boyfriend.

Cedric got up from his seat, smiling at the cheers of his schoolmates. He starts walking to the front of the Great Hall, looking for his girlfriend. Once Y/n saw her boyfriend, she tried hiding her disappointment with a smile. His heart dropped a little when he saw she was disappointed, but he smiled back at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Y/n and Cedric got alone time, Y/n hugs him and congratulates him on becoming a champion. Staying in the embrace, Cedric presses a kiss on her lips, Cedric responds with, "Thank you for being supportive, even though you don't want me to do this."

Y/n smiles and replies, "Just don't die please." Cedric laughs and plants a more passionate kiss on her lips.

"I love you, Y/n." These words cause Y/n's heart to flutter and her lips to form a big smile.

"I love you, Cedric."

The End

A/n: I hope y'all liked this! I'm sorry it's so basic but idk what to write lolll. Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this check out my other story!

[lesservillain]

Harry Potter

Draco Malfoy

Remus Lupin

Sirius Black

James Potter

[mostlynatur3]

My first try at book binding.

[fictive-fodder]

|| Second Sight : III : July 1st, 1996||

Wizarding folk did not understand your work as a Specularri. Most with the gift of Sight failed to be as tenacious and diligent as the training required. But Seers who did were highly sought after by the bereaved, even the Ministry consulted you on mysterious deaths.

The night of the new moon was usually ideal for your work, but when it coincided with the death of Sirius Black, nothing went as expected.

Read this on A03 here!  

|| Word Count: 11K||

Warnings : Implied drug use

Story Chapters -

PART I - PART II- PART III - PART IV - PART V

||Author’s Note|| I am SO SORRY to those of you who have read the first two chapters and have been waiting for an update. I hope the size of this chapter compensates a bit for the gap. Your sweet messages to me of how much you have enjoyed Second Sight so far definitely helped me push through my tough spots... so thank you so much for the support. I hope that if this story has captured your interest, that this chapter holds up and pulls you in a little further. ;) Though  many people love the world of Harry Potter, J K Rowling has been  making  problematic statements for a long time and I am glad to see  people  taking her most recent ignorance seriously, as the gross,  transphobic,  hate speech that it is.  There is so much beloved content that  contains problematic, dangerous  or inappropriate elements. Or, the  author sucks. If we don’t learn to  accept the good content while  learning to acknowledge, highlight, and  stand against the problematic  content, we are throwing away most of the  creative stories in our world.  And that’s a shame, I’d rather we  reclaim it and make it better. So  even though this is Harry Potter fan  fiction, this story centers around a  non binary reader. It is my hope  that anyone feels like they can slip  into this story, and be apart. I  want to make space for all who are  willing to salvage this story. Any  trans folks and gender queer folks  who are here, reading, as I ramble  on- Hi. You are welcome here. Thanks  for giving me your time. <3  

|| Tag List|| @hogwarts-1d-drarry-stan  @srhxpci  @loonyclaris​

It only took Fudge two weeks to get sacked since Voldemort had been seen. The headline was unavoidable as you walked through St. Mungo’s, SCRIMGEOUR SUCCEEDS FUDGE . You glanced at the lion-like face of the new Minister of Magic as you headed towards the Specularri Wing, his photograph clasped in the ocean of hands holding today’s copy of the Daily Prophet.

It reminded you of a few years ago, when Sirius Black’s cruel, laughing face had been plastered to every shop corner, every street light, and how different he looked from when he had attended Hogwarts.

You’d hated that flying lessons were compulsory for first year students. Though you had only been a few feet off the ground you fell on your hip hard, knocking the breath out of you.

You gasped and hiccuped as tears filled your eyes, more out of shock and self consciousness than pain as you heard laughter coming from the other side of the pitch. That had been Sirius, leaning against the shoulder of Gryffindor’s star quidditch seeker, James Potter. Those four boys were heroes to the Gryffindors in your term, somehow achieving top marks while also receiving more detentions than any other students. They caught everyone’s attention during feasts in the Great Hall, making a spectacle out of themselves and driving Professor Mcgonagall absolutely mad.

You’d seen them pranking Filch in the corridors between classes and sneaking out of the grounds during the night. Really, plenty of older students acted like that, but those four seemed to attract more notice than anyone else.

“You okay?” James had asked, kneeling down before you. He smiled at you reassuringly, even as his three friends continued to chuckle. It clicked then, those other two had been Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Notorious in school as well as out, the four of them.

“Yes-“ you had stammered, forcing yourself up despite how badly your side still hurt. Behind James, Sirius was clutching his own chest as he laughed again, he pantomimed falling off of a broom. Peter burst into laughter, nodding.

“I bet it was the broom. Those rentals Hooch gives you first years are pathetic. Here-“ James held out his own for you to try, “I bet you’ll be able to show me a thing or two now!”

“I don’t like flying.” you replied, taking a step back from James’ broom.

“What a relief-“ James laughed, “Now I don’t have to worry about you showing me up!”

You watched as James winked and then flew to his friends, kicking off from the ground powerfully. Sirius raised his arms into the sky above him, and as soon as James got close enough, he grabbed the neck of James’ broom, digging his heels into the earth, laughing as he tried to drag him down.

It had seemed like Sirius was always laughing, though it was very different from the laugh he had in those posters.

The memory unnerved you as you suddenly realized that you now knew Remus. That he was the only surviving member of that group. They had felt like titans back then, untouchable- but that hadn’t been the way of it, not really. They ended up just as vulnerable as anyone else.

You wondered if the Ministry had ever used a Specularri to reach out to James and Lily Potter for Harry’s sake, or if they had reached out to Peter for details on Sirius Black.

As you walked into the Specularri wing, Aurelia waved you down.

“Yes?” you asked, walking over to her desk.

“Good afternoon!” she smiled brightly at you, “There is a client waiting for you in your office.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, a Mister Timothy Le Tor?”

“Ah, Timothy.” you nodded. For the last three years, Timothy had met with you once a month to scour your mirror for someone named "Shelby" who he claimed was a lost love of his. Unfortunately, Shelby had never before appeared. Though Timothy's general demeanor was always a little discouraged, he never seemed to mind too much, always enjoying the long chats he got to have with you.

As you walked to your office a sinking feeling took over you. It has been almost two weeks since the first time you’d tried Asterius’ candle. It had taken you days to feel normal again, and on top of your health you had appointments to keep. A large part of you wished you could have wholly focused on Padfoot, but Byron had made you promise to wait until he found some herbs to help keep you stable and safe.

The coincidences unfolding around you of Sirius Black’s death, Asterius being connected to Regulus Black, and your involvement with the Order of the Phoenix only further pushed you into wanting to devote yourself entirely to Padfoot’s aid. How would it connect? That conundrum vexxed almost as much as not having spoken to Padfoot in so long- since it seemed likely that it was connected to him.

You just hoped, very much, that it wasn’t in the way you feared.

As you sat down, Timothy smiled lopsidedly at you from across your table. You poured water into your phiale and ignored the sinking feeling of guilt in your stomach- you wished that Padfoot had somehow appeared through any of the sessions you’d had in the last week.

“How have you been?” Timothy asked, as you focused on the mirror.

“Oh, you know, very busy.” you replied, squinting into the darkness your mirror reflected.

“Of course.” Timothy granted, nodding slowly. “Probably getting just as much work as is good for ye, hm?”

“Yea, Tim-“ you replied, raising your wand.

Fifteen minutes passed of multiple attempts to call Shelby, but it all went up in black smoke. You ended up doing as you always did, lighting the candle mundanely to see if ‘Shelby could find her way to you’. This always seemed to reassure him, even though you knew it was nonsense.

Timothy was busy telling you  what he’d been up to for the last month when a dark silhouette appeared in your mirror.

"You’re smarter than this, mate... you know there’s no Shelby, eh?" Padfoot asked.

Eyes widening, you choked on your breath and coughed. “Padfoot?” you exclaimed, spluttering.

Timothy looked over at you, alarmed. “Are you alright my dear?”

Stunned, you glanced between your mirror and Timothy. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to you.

“Oh- um, yes.” you replied, waving away the handkerchief, “Sorry. There was just a disturbance but it’s nothing.”

“Rude-“ Padfoot murmured.

“You didn’t see her, then?” Timothy asked.

“No, not yet. I am happy to keep looking nevertheless!” you assured, giving him a strained smile. Timothy smiled back at you. Of all the times for Padfoot to come back. You felt a lightness in your chest as you recognized his silhouette, the messy shape of his long hair. Your heart ached- he couldn’t possibly be Sirius Black, could he?

“Do you have loads of customers today?” Timothy asked with a bashful laugh. “I don’t want to be too greedy with your time.”

You heard Padfoot snort. “He does want to be greedy with your time, actually.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral as you focused on your client, “No, Tim- don’t worry at all. We have time to keep looking for Shelby!”

“I could be a right good Shelby…” Padfoot purred, running his hands through his hair. “Want to give it a try for this poor bloke?”

You shot a glare into your mirror. “Quiet-” you whispered. “What?” Padfoot cried innocently, “I’m telling you! He’s not mourning! He’s here for you!”

“Ah yes you usually work well into the night, don’t you?” Timothy asked.

“Yea, it’s a great job for night owls.” you replied distractedly.

“I suppose that means Mrs. or Mr. Specularii doesn’t get to see too much of you?”

“Huh?” you replied, dumbly.

“Oh, come on now, Tim…” Padfoot sighed solemnly.

“You know…” Timothy nodded, you watched his tongue run over his teeth. “Whomever I’m taking you away from?”

Timothy’s question left a wake of silence that Padfoot eventually broke.

“Well,” Padfoot mused, satisfied. “He shot his shot.”

You had to tilt the mirror away from you for fear of laughing. Taking in a deep breath, you forced your expression to stay neutral. “No,” you responded finally, bearing a small smile, “the only thing that is waiting for me at home is ignored mail.”

Then you stood up and held out your hand to Timothy. “Until next time? Aurelia can help you book an appointment at reception.”

“Yes, perhaps better luck next time too!” Timothy chuckled, shaking your hand before seeing himself out of your office.

With a heavy sigh, you slumped back into your chair.

“…I may not know my own name but one thing is clear: I definitely understand the underpinnings of romance.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your mirror back into view.

“But, more importantly… no spouse, Specularii? Odd.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you hissed, frowning.

Padfoot barked a laugh. It was a sonorous, low sound that came from deep in his chest. Despite all of the anxiety and concern that has taken hold of you in the last week regarding him, you felt yourself smile. "I meant nothing at all. What a high standard you hold me to! You should give me at least as much leeway as you give dear Timothy."

“Yes well, I know Timothy.” you explained, rolling your eyes. “You’re still strange to me, a mystery, you could be suspicious of something-” you felt a lump well up in your throat at the thought of this half joke half conjecture. Please don’t be Sirius Black, you wished inwardly.

"What? You, who makes a living speaking to the dead, is calling me suspicious and strange?" he chuckled.

“Alright alright-” you laughed, “So, how long has it felt for you since the last time we spoke?”

“I couldn’t say. I was quite angry with you, you know… for endangering yourself like that. I spent some time avoiding this place in the hopes of deterring you.”

You bristled, offended that he did not better appreciate your efforts to help him. How could he know how dangerous scrying could be, when he had admitted he was never interested in divination? But before you could respond, Padfoot continued.

“But then I remembered something about myself. Something small, but something that feels as if it must be very important… and I realized how much I need you. How much I am going to need you to help me, not for my sake as much as theirs.”

Holding your breath, you leaned closer to your mirror. “Who? What did you remember?”

“Just a name, but really- I can’t think of anything else. It’s obsessive.”

“What name?”

“Harry.”

You sat back in your chair as an unsettling chill fell heavily over you. This was it. He must be Sirius Black. You kept silent out of panic, as your hands rose to cover your mouth. You forced yourself to breathe through your fingers as you felt your skin prickle, hair stand on end.

This was the murderer of Peter Pettigrew, one of the most loyal servants to the Dark Lord. He had to be.

“Hello?” Padfoot called, his voice was still so pleasant despite the turn that had come over you.

You frowned, hadn’t he called the Black family degenerate? You pressed your hands to your face and made yourself breathe again- it was so hard to make sense of. It was all too frustrating.

Did it really matter who he was? Your oath to heal was not conditional… but you didn’t think it was inappropriate to have concerns about freeing a murderer, either.

“What is it?” Padfoot asked wearily.

“I’m thinking.”  you replied sharply, then immediately felt guilty for snapping. Padfoot didn’t know who he was, he still seemed so innocent. You shook your head and pulled your hands away from your face. “The only way to get you out of there, as far as I have found, will come from using those candles, Padfoot.” you started, tone heavy with the weight of your turbulent feelings.

“But, will they work or will you just get sick trying?” he replied, voice darker, skeptical.

“I know that they are …designed to do that, yes. Whether or not anyone has been successful, I do not know.”

“No-“ Padfoot cursed, pacing frustratedly. “I can't let you do that- it’s too dangerous.”

You felt your face grow hot, whether out of flattery or indignation you were not sure.

“To be frank with you, Padfoot, you don’t really have the luxury of making these decisions.” your arm jerked as you fought the impulse to reach out to him, to touch the side of your mirror. “I am a Specularii, and I took an oath when I began my practice to help anyone I can. Even if you did not want to be free from whatever place you’ve become trapped inside, it is my responsibility to help you and understand it.

“What if others are vulnerable to being trapped there too? What is that place? Is it a place? How can we help to make it safer? These are all thoughts that have kept me awake at night- I need to understand what happened.”

“I see.” Padfoot replied, coolly.

“What is it?” you asked, why did he sound offended?

“Nothing at all…” Padfoot said, clearing his throat. “I just thought we-“

“…We what?” you asked.

“That we… got along, too.”

“You’re ridiculous.” you frowned, shaking your head. “I- I mean I do like you, you’re so-” you stopped yourself from continuing as you thought about how easily you’d relaxed around him. How you caught yourself wondering if he thought of you throughout the day, and replaying the conversations you’d shared with a smile on your face. “You’re upset that I’m not only interested in helping you but also wanting to understand the place that was capable of trapping you?”

“You’re quite good at sounding empathetic and invested.” Padfoot replied coolly. “But I suppose that is a part of your trade. And I… Well, I guess I have just been lonely enough to read something more into all this. Not that I enjoy admitting that.”

Your mouth fell open as he continued.

“I understand better now, I am a strange unknown man and this place is a mystery- waiting to be solved. A professional inquiry. It doesn't matter what I am comfortable with- how you may endanger yourself. You’re calling the shots.”

“Padfoot!” you exclaimed, frowning.

“All I know is that I need to get to Harry.” Padfoot continued, “Whatever it takes.”

A sharp pain flitted through your chest at his words. Whatever it took? Meaning, for Harry’s sake your safety was a worthy compromise? It was contrarian to be offended since you were insisting on using Asterius’ candles, but it didn’t matter- something about Padfoot’s acceptance still hurt, regardless of how stupid that felt. You watched as Timothy’s candle bubbled and pooled with hot wax, it was getting close to putting itself out.

“Alright.” you nodded, “Then we start again, tonight.” 

You couldn’t see your kitchen table beneath the piles of morning glories that Byron brought over. With repeated swishes of his wand, Byron heaped the flowers into a large pot, set to boil. “This tea should do the trick!” he hooted, looking over at you with an optimistic light in his eyes. “You’re gonna feel great.”

You looked up from the stack of old divination books you had unearthed from storage. Most of these contained your  notes from your studies in Greece and Rome, few were handwritten by your mentors, who as far as you knew, still dwelled in those sacred caves and temples, teaching whoever was clever enough to find them. You had been going through every line of them, looking for anything that referenced the place Padfoot was trapped in.

“You just think this wouldn’t have been the first time this has happened-“ you groaned, pushing a book away from you hopelessly.

“You mean apart from myths?” Byron asked, stirring his concoction.

“What myths? What myths can you think of where someone is trapped inside a mysterious temple?”

“Eurydice and Orpheus? Uh… Dante’s inferno?”

“Those are both about Hell.” you snorted.

“Well you haven’t made it sound like a holiday there.”

“But Eurydice and Dante were dead.” you laid your head down on the table. “Padfoot isn’t dead.”

“You’re thinking awfully literal for someone who has more magic in one pinky than most have at all.” Byron laughed as he took a cup from your cupboard and dipped it into the pot. He placed the mug in front of you and sat to your side. “Try it.”

You groaned again, sitting up to look Byron in the eye unenthusiastically.

“Don’t give me that face.” Byron laughed, nudging you with his elbow. “What do we have so far?”

“Well the candles seem to work, but they aren’t good for you.” you began listing, pressing your hands around the warm cup. “We think that Padfoot is a Black, and that's it!”

You didn’t have it in your heart to tell Byron about the Harry conversation, you wouldn’t be able to handle his reaction about the possibility that you were interacting with Sirius Black.

Byron wrinkled his nose at you. “Merlin’s beard, you're a pessimist. There’s Asterius? He’s obviously got some experience with this, and he knows the Black family.”

“How reliable will he be, though? Why would he even want to help me?”

“From what you told me it doesn’t sound like he’s changed much.” Byron mused, rifling through his bag. “When I used to work with him, well- knew him, rather… He was obsessed with some pseudo scrying that I bet you this Dorea aunt character taught him. He wanted to learn anything I could teach him to help him get better. He was fixated on Regulus, about connecting to his memory. I bet you anything if he knew that you were talking to someone from the Black family, in a place like you’ve described, he’d be desperate for details.“

“I suppose I could ask him the next time I go to buy these blasted candles.” you shrugged, smiling at Byron despite your mood. “Do you… really think it’s Regulus?”

“Dunno, but I do think it might be worth askin’ Tonks about-” “Why?”

“They had you lookin’ for Sirius Black, right?”

“So?” you asked, surprised by the defensiveness in your tone. Byron didn’t seem to notice however, as he continued on.

“So they are obviously workin’ on something involving the Black family… probably some Auror business. They might know a thing or two we don’t about Regulus.”

“Even if that is true, why would they help me? Could they?”

“Why don’t you join me at the next Order meeting and we will find out?” 

Your heart did a little jump. Attending an Order of the Phoenix meeting felt like a level of involvement you didn’t know if you were prepared for. Byron watched you toil inwardly, reading your face as if it was a book. “C’mon!” he chuckled, pinching your arm.

“You act like it’s a summer camp.” you said, raising your eyebrows. “I know you regret not being a part of it the first time around but please remember Byron, it’s very dangerous. You’re putting a huge target on your back being affiliated with these people.”

You were surprised to see Byron smile at you, an odd sense of calm overcame you as he listened to you with patience and an uncharacteristic grace.

“Alright.” he replied, simply.

You frowned, which seemed to make Byron smile wider. He knew you would be contrarian like this, he knew it would bother you if he didn’t argue.

“Well, when is it?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

With a hoot, Byron clapped his hands together, victoriously. “End of this week!”

“Oh good, hopefully I will be conscious by then.” you scoffed, glancing at the cup in your hands.

“Drink up-” Byron said, nodding, “and you’ll be fine tomorrow morning, I just know it.”

The morning glory tisane Byron had concocted for you was so bitter it left your tongue feeling shriveled and stuck to the roof of your mouth. Nevertheless, as the sun began to set, you forced several cups of it down your throat in the hopes of having a better time using Asterius’ candles. 

After your third cup a weighty calm fell over you and your limbs tingled as if they had fallen asleep. It helped to keep your nerves at bay as you, once again, set up your mirror and your phaile on your kitchen table. You didn’t know what to expect, after the last conversation you’d had with Padfoot he’d become so fussy. You shook your head to yourself as you thought about how touchy he was- so much for frightening you as one of the world’s darkest, most notorious wizards. 

Maybe it was the effects of the tisane lowering your inhibitions but Padfoot seemed far more petty than terrifying. You stopped yourself from thinking about how Padfoot might change when he remembered who he was and chuckled to yourself in the face of all your anxieties. At least if you were thrown in Azkaban for aiding a known murderer you would already be friendly with your cellmate. 

At dusk you sat down before your table and  placed the half melted candle in front of your mirror. With a deep breath you gripped your wand tightly and held your arm straight out to your side. “Padfoot.” you called out, your voice rang strong through your home as you flicked your wand. Immediately, white smoke bloomed from the spark your wand conjured. You hastily guided it to Asterius’ candle, and just like last time, the candle’s wick took to the spark instantly, with a strong hiss like a stick of dynamite. You watched it for a moment, noting the notch Byron had pressed into the wax last time to indicate where you should stop. Your stomach did a little flip, if things felt good, should you really stop? It wasn’t like Padfoot could wait forever to be saved. 

This time already felt different. Despite these candles burning much slower than the ones you usually worked with, the loud hiss of the wick burning up had made you feel rushed last time. Now you didn’t feel hurried at all, the sound was still noticeable, but it felt like a background element instead of something grabbing your immediate attention. 

Nevertheless, as the smoke began to waft up from the candle you felt an immediate sting in your chest. You coughed into your hands, eyes widening as you noticed that your coughs echoed over and over, as if the sound was traveling through a network of corridors. You forced yourself to take several slow, shallow breaths so you would not choke on the smoke and looked around. Once again, you could glimpse the darker shadowy pillars of temple Halls filling the inside of your flat. You reached over in your chair to try and touch one of the carved columns nearby, but your fingertips passed through it without resistance. You wondered if that would ever change. 

Forcing yourself to sit up, you looked around at your darkened flat, and shivered. You could faintly hear the whispers that Padfoot had described, but you couldn’t tell where they came from. Several slow, careful breaths later, you stood- instinctively ducking your head as you passed under an archway. 

“Padfoot?” you whispered, narrowing your eyes. “Hello?”

From across the room you could see Padfoot’s silhouette stumble into view through your bedroom wall. “Damn it-“ he growled, his hand on his chest as he lumbered over to you. 

Your eyes widened at his staggered approach. “What’s happened?” you asked under your breath. 

“That thing was following me-“ he growled, patting the left side of his chest as if it was burning him. 

Without thinking, you reached your hands out to touch where he seemed to be hurt. Your heart skipped a beat as your fingers actually met  his chest. You gasped, surprised that he wasn’t as incorporeal as the walls and quickly withdrew your hand, looking into his shadowed face with eyes wide. “I’m sorry!” you breathed, holding your hands firmly at your sides. Padfoot glanced down at his chest, still registering the interaction. 

“Well…” he started gruffly, “First time I’ve had that reaction. Never had a complaint before. Usually gropers are more impressed… your standards do seem to be quite high.” 

“I WAS NOT-” 

“Hush!” Padfoot interrupted you, grabbing you by the shoulders, he pulled you down so that you were both kneeling. He pushed you against the corner of the nearest arch, standing up on his knees to shield you from whatever he heard down the Hall. Your heart sank as a thought came to you: these were not the actions of a murderer. He had to be someone else. He couldn’t be Sirius Black.  

“We will have to keep quiet for now…” Padfoot whispered, glancing at you from over his shoulder. “I don’t think it knows this place but I’d rather it not find out.” 

“...What is it?”  

“Dunno.” he sighed, “It glows so… as soon as I see any light at all I avoid it.” 

“It… glows?” you asked, frowning. This place made you feel like you didn’t know anything about the topics you were supposed to be an expert on. “What do you mean it glows?” 

Padfoot raised a hand, at a loss. “Sorry I think I left my thesaurus at home… it emanates light? Very shiny? Candle-like?” 

No… maybe he was an awful, murderering, dark art fanatic. 

“You’re very good at looking angry even when I can’t see your face.” he continued, nodding. “Quite impressive.” “You know-” you sighed, tone flat, “I am starting to see why you might have ended up in a place like this. You were probably banished here by all you hold dear.”

“Is this the charm and professionalism you grant to all your clients?” You opened your mouth to respond before you noticed that Padfoot was still pressing one of his hands against the spot on his chest. He saw your attention snap to it and his hand fell immediately. 

“Padfoot…has it hurt this whole time?” 

“Hardly,” he replied, standing up. “I think we’re safe.” 

Padfoot leaned down and offered you a hand. Curiously, you took it and he pulled you up easily. It really felt as if you were in just a dark room with him, you could feel the lines on his palms, the jerk of his muscles contracting as he pulled you up so you stood beside him. You appraised his silhouette, trying to conjure the Sirius Black from your school memories and transpose your recollections against the man before you- but quickly decided that felt too unreliable and desperate. 

You looked around the corridor for any traces of light. “How often do you run into it?” 

“Not often at all.” Padfoot answered quietly. 

“Good…” you replied, unnerved. You frowned down the corridor. “Is there anything else you know about it?”

“I’ve heard it talk?”

“Oh-kay.” you wheezed, running your hands through your hair. “So it’s a person? What do they say?” 

“Well it's not like I usually stick around to find out.”  

“Of course.” you nodded, scratching your chin in thought. Padfoot’s injury had persisted since you’d met him nearly a month ago. It would be horrible for him to come to any harm while here, since you were unsure why he wasn’t recovering and had so little understanding of how or even if he existed physically in this place. You on the other hand were not really there… it would not be so dangerous for you to look into whatever else wandered these Halls. “Padfoot, can you take me to the place you usually speak to me? Through the glass?” 

“That depends.” He replied. “You do this in your home, right? What if you bump into something, or what if it is outside?” 

“I think I can manage those sorts of mild inconveniences as they come.” 

You felt his hand wrap around yours and tried to hide the impression it had on you, but quietly, you marveled at how real he felt, as you resisted thinking about touching his face, running your fingers down his jaw, trying to get a sense of what he looked like by touch alone. Padfoot brought you through Halls with an unthinking familiarity. It made sense that he would have spent his time memorizing the Halls, what else was there for him to do? You had to follow along slowly, avoiding furniture and walls in your flat as he carefully led you along. The truth was, the longer you stayed with him, the harder it was for you to see your flat beneath the superimposed shadows of the Halls. It thrilled you as much as it scared you. 

When you passed by your kitchen table you slowed down to check on the candle. It had already burned down to Byron’s mark. 

“What is it?” Padfoot asked wearily. 

“I was just checking on the candle. We’re in my kitchen.” 

“Oh really?” Padfoot hummed, coming to a halt. Curiously, you squinted to where his eyes should have been, hoping to illuminate his features but it did nothing.  You watched his shoulders rise as if he was tensing up. 

“What are you doing?“ you chuckled. 

“Trying to see your kitchen!“ Padfoot replied, as if it should be obvious. 

“Nosy. It’s a one way street, I’m afraid.” you smiled,

“So how is it supposed to work, then?” 

“The candles?” you sighed, bracing yourself for Padfoot’s dissatisfaction with how little you really knew, “Based on my… research, if I had burned these candles until the next new moon I would be able to exist here just like I do in the real world.” 

“Damn.” Padfoot huffed. 

“Right- so, the new moon is this weekend, and this is only the second time I’ve burned them so I doubt we will have success-” 

“How many times would need to burn them for it to count?” 

“There are eight moon phases- so I believe it would have to be at least that many.” 

“But you are doing much better this time than last time.”

“Yes! My colleague Byron is exceptional with divinitory herbology and he developed this potion for me to drink before burning the candle. It seems to be helping a lot-” “That is a relief.” Padfoot squeezed your hand. You fought the urge to squeeze his back. 

“I am thinking that it being so close to the new moon is the reason why we can touch, but I still go through the walls?” you thought aloud, running your hand through a pillar. 

“Why would I be different than the rest of it though?” 

“Because you haven’t been here long, you’re more like me than you are like this place.” 

“Well, that is reassuring.” Padfoot replied tugging on your hand. “Are we good to keep going?” 

You glanced back at the candle, the line that Byron’s mark had been burned through. A dart of excitement shot through you as you answered, “Yea- let’s get to that room.” 

Padfoot pulled you through your kitchen, watching as you had to shift around furniture he couldn’t see, before he passed through the wall beside your front door. “Oh! Hold on-” you called, waving your hand over your knob to unlock it. You stepped through, closing the door behind you. 

“Fuck this is weird, for Godrick’s sake.” Padfoot laughed under his breath. “You out of your flat now?”

“Yes-” you grinned, the air felt electric with excitement. A shiver ran through you, elated by how little the candles were affecting you. The corridor you’d stepped out to was even darker than your flat, allowing you to see more of the Temple than before. 

“Just thought of something-” Padfoot started, pulling you along. “When we met for the first time you were at St. Mungos? That’s where you work, yea?” 

“Yea-” you nodded. 

“So, how's the walk from your place to St. Mungos?” 

“Oh.” you stopped. “Is it really that big?” 

“Yes.” 

Your mind reeled with this information. “Alright-“ you hummed, thinking. “No problem.” 

“Oh no?” Padfoot asked brightly. 

“No- that’s fine. Because you know how to get there and you said the place where we meet tonight, where my flat is, is a safe place too. So, there are two places where we can rely on meeting with one another.” 

“True.” Padfoot replied, it sounded like he was smiling. He pulled you down the hallway of your apartment building, but as you neared the stairs, the feeling of his hand against yours thinned. You frowned, glancing back behind you. It hadn’t occurred to you in your excitement that the further away you got from Asterius’ candle the less powerful it would be. 

“Stop-” you called out, now completely unable to feel his hand. The faintest suggestion of Padfoot turned to look at you, head tilted. 

“What is it?” 

“I didn’t think about this-” you groaned, sighing frustratedly. How could you have been so stupid. “I can hardly see it all anymore- I’m too far away from the candle. I don’t know how to-” 

“What?” Padfoot called over your explanation. It was clear he was having a difficult time seeing and hearing you, too. 

“I have to go back-” you growled under your breath, your face hot with anger.  “Damn it-” 

You ran back towards the candle, surprised to feel tears in your eyes. It had been going so well. You hadn’t expected that you’d be able to touch him- the idea that your ability to be there had improved so much in two uses was beyond enthralling. You threw open your front door with a frustrated shove, eyes falling immediately to the candle on your table. Just as before, most of it had melted onto your table. Your shoulders fell as you lunged towards the table, frowning at how small and useless the candle had become- the flame was taller than the remaining wick. You cursed again, your voice breaking under your breath as you stared, uselessly at the flame. You hated it- you hated not knowing what to do. It had been so long since you didn’t know what you were doing. 

A hot, wet hiss came from the candle as the flame touched a mound of wet wax. Surely, you had only seconds before it would go out. 

“I’m here-” Padfoot’s voice rushed back into your awareness. You could feel him standing behind you. “What can I do?” he asked, alarmed.

You tried to speak, but you were too frustrated with self helplessness. Could you use the flame to light the other candle, or was the connection going to break no matter what? You turned to try and look at Padfoot’s silhouette, eyes wide and full of hot, angry tears. With a normal client, you would have never let yourself get so worked up- it made you even angrier with yourself. 

“I’m sorry-” you hated how your voice wavered. “I didn’t think about how far away I could get. And- and I don’t know how to change that yet.” 

“It’s alright-” he said quickly. You felt Padfoot’s large hands run up your arms and grip your shoulders tenderly. “You have been the only hope I’ve had. You don’t have to know everything, just having you thinking of me is enough-” 

The candlelight died. Your balance wavered as Padfoot’s hands against your shoulders disappeared.  “No-” you breathed, spinning around to your table. “No, no, no- '' you moaned as you were able to just make out the wispy smoke wafting up from the candle’s freshly extinguished wick. A wave of self loathing flooded you- of course you couldn’t get too far away from the candles. Whatever Asterius used to make them, you had to be able to breathe in their vapor to gain the effects. 

You rubbed your eyes as hot tears rolled down your cheeks. You hated this. You hated not knowing what step to take next, not being able to explain everything to Padfoot, let alone yourself. As you gulped in air with your frustrated cries, your breath caught on the candle smoke, and you began to cough . You cleared your throat against your arm, holding the side of the table as you breathed through the burning sensation of choking in your throat, but then you continued to cough, unable to stop. 

Slowly, you made your way back to your bed leaning against the walls as you did, bent over with the force of your coughing. When you finally fell onto your mattress, you were coughing so hard you had begun to gag for air. 

You closed your eyes, tears still falling from them as you gasped. Part of you thought you could still hear Padfoot, even feel his hand against your chest, trying to urge you to breathe slowly. 

You rubbed your eye as Byron led you down a street in downtown London. Just like the first time you’d use Asterius’ candles, it felt like there was something like a hair, scratching your eye and irritating the periphery of your vision. 

“Stop touching it, you’re just going to make it worse.” Byron murmured as you halted in front of an old home. 

“Oh leave me be.” you grumbled, continuing to rub your eye.  

“Bit late for that, love.” Byron chuckled, wrapping a warm, heavy arm around your shoulders. “It’s all red now- are you sure you didn’t just scratch it?” 

You’d woken up that morning short tempered- only Byron would have been able to convince you to go out after work and deal with the outside world with the mood you were in. 

“Take a big breath with me-” Byron started, moving to stand in front of you. He plied as he started to dramatically inhale. 

“No- Byron, come on-” you groaned, exhausted. “I don’t want to breathe.” 

“In-” he nudged you, taking another performative big breath in. Scowling, you inhaled slowly, letting him count to 5 before you exhaled. “Good!” he smiled, pushing the pad of his thumb against your chin. “Don’t you feel better?” 

“Exquisite.” you replied flatly, looking up at the housing block you’d walked into. “Where are we?” 

“Here! I think-” Byron answered as he peered around. 

“Huh- not exactly what I expected.” you blinked, looking around at the old, aristocratic houses. When you had woken up that morning, you were positively surprised to realize that you’d woken up when you normally would have in the late morning. Even work had gone smoothly enough, all of your clients were familiar and easy- but it hadn’t stopped you from being in a terrible mood. You knew it was an accomplishment, but you were already starving to understand more of how everything worked- to answer the problems you’d discovered last night: How could you travel while maintaining a connection to Padfoot? Was there a way to make the candles last longer?

“I was told that we should just wait by this bench…” Byron hummed nervously, trying to look around inconspicuously. 

“So you were.” A voice said from behind the two of you. 

“Ho there!” Byron jumped, whirling around. You had also started, pivoting to find Remus Lupin looking at you both fondly.

“For you, Bryon-” he said, smiling coyly as he handed Byron a piece of parchment. “And for you.” he continued, handing you a similar piece. 

You unfolded it curiously, your irritation briefly forgotten as you read the long, slanted writing on the inside of the note. #12 Grimmauld Place. Before you could greet Remus properly, you were distracted as a new home suddenly appeared into existence before you. 

“Oh-” you began, glancing back at Remus, who nodded, encouraging you to approach. You had to admire the magic that would have gone into concealing a house in this way. You had no idea how it could have been done, but it was inspiring to wonder. Byron followed suit, watching as you stepped up to the top stair on the stoop and pulled your wand from your robes. Intuitively, you tapped a wooden pane of the home’s exterior with the top of your wand, and watched as the exterior wall slid open to reveal a long, dark, narrow hallway. Byron whistled low behind you. “Say this Order’s got some real class huh?” 

“I’d hope so.” you tried to sound unimpressed. You felt Byron shift his weight behind you. 

“What are you waiting for?” 

“I don’t know.” you replied under your breath. There was something to the feeling of this house, dark and dusty, regal and outdated, that felt sad. “Doesn’t it…” you began, frowning. 

“Feel like when we make house calls?” 

“Yea-” you glanced back at Byron, reassured that he felt it too. Even though you hadn’t seen anyone yet, it felt like a house in mourning. 

The wall behind you slipped closed again with a clap of wood and stone, you and Byron both jumped as a scream came through the hallway. 

“BLOOD TRAITORS IN MY HOUSE! THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK HAS BEEN FOREVER STAINED BY YOUR PRESENCE! YOU ARE NOT WEL-” a woman screamed, before suddenly stopping. Two far less haunting voices followed, 

“I THOUGHT YOU TOOK CARE OF THAT!” 

“I said I would get it off the wall, not that I could get her to stop screaming!” 

“THROW IT AWAY!”

“I tried! Kreacher kept bringing it back in!” 

“Unbelievable!” the first voice growled. You felt Byron’s hands grip your shoulders as uneven footsteps fell heavily down the hall. Your eyes squinted as you made out a silhouette turning into the corridor before you through the low light. 

“Alright?” Byron called, his fingers digging into your shoulders. 

“Ouch, Byron! Stop being such a baby-” you hissed, trying to shrug him off. 

“Well who are you then?” The silhouette shouted as they began to hobble closer. Your eyes widened with dawning comprehension as you noticed the peg leg. 

“Alastor Moody?” you asked, incredulously. 

“Who’s there?” Alastor demanded gruffly, finally coming close enough to get a good look at the two of you, his magical eye swiveling wildly around. 

"Lupin invited us!" Byron whimpered, holding the sides of your arms like you were a shield.

"Could you please- STOP!" you ripped yourself free from Byron, pivoting to look at him, astounded. "Really Byron!" your severe stare was almost broken by the wide eyed look on Byron's face. You could feel yourself resisting a smile- why was he so difficult to stay angry with?

Moody watched the two of you, unimpressed. “Are you done?” he asked impatiently. 

“Yes.” you stammered, glancing back at Byron warningly. 

“So-” Moody growled, “Lupin thinks you're fit for the Order, eh?” with an abrupt pivot, Moody began to walk down the corridor from whence he came. You and Byron exchanged wide eyed glances before following him. 

“”Don’t tell me-” Moody continued fussily as he stomped along, “Not another pair of optimistic try-hards that can hardly conjure a Disarming spell!” “We work for St. Mungos, actually-” Byron called over you to Moody’s back. 

“Oh well that’s very nice isn’t it.” Moody glanced appraisingly back over his shoulder. “So you’re both adept in healing?” 

“Well-” Byron faltered, you could feel him start trying to hide behind you again, even as the three of you continued to walk.The corridor had opened up into a dim sitting room, it looked as if it was half way through being renovated. Parts of the walls had the dustiest black filigree wallpaper you’d ever seen, but the rest of it had been stripped away to reveal light brickwork. The contrast between the dark, faded wallpaper and the masonry was difficult for your eyes to parse, as if you were in two houses at the same time. There was also a portrait sized hole in the wall above a fireplace. 

“Well what?” Moody asked as he stopped walking. Byron bumped into you from behind as you quickly halted in suit. You glanced around the room to see Tonks sitting on top of what was once an opulent dining table, cheerfully speaking to another Order member who’s robes were covered in paint. 

“They’re both Specularri, Alastor.” Tonks interrupted, leaning over the side of the table. Glancing over to exchange a smile with Tonks, your heart skipped a beat. The window behind them eclipsed Tonks’ silhouette in a cloudy haze and for the briefest of moments they looked just like Padfoot. 

The scratch on your eye was suddenly much more noticeable. You shook your head, physically willing the image to scatter from your thoughts as you smiled at them in greeting. 

“SPECULARRI?” Moody growled, glaring at you and Byron with his natural eye, while the magical one swiveled to the back of his head, supposedly to glare at Tonks. “So they aren’t even healers? How desperate are we to allow the likes of no good, snake oil toting, charlatans like this?” 

“Okay-” you cleared your throat, glaring daggers at Byron. “At least this is going about as well as I thought it would.” 

As Byron looked over to Tonks for aid, you heard the entrance quietly slide close again and Remus’ voice called from the corridor.  

“It’s alright!” Remus hushed, he seemed unable to keep a smirk off his face as he approached the group, looking at Moody. “I’ve been vetting them for a while. Byron worked in Knockturn Alley in the 60’s, and still has connections that could prove very useful to us.” 

“And what about this one?” Moody barked, gesturing to you with a sneer. 

“I’ve worked with the Auror office several times. That’s how I recognized you.” you spoke over Remus with a steely tone. 

“Pah-” Moody turned both eyes to you. “And what good has that ever done us?” 

You glanced toward Remus, shrugging. “I mean- that’s true.” 

You saw Byron roll his eyes in response. 

“It may not be the most useful skill for solving active crimes, Alastor.” Remus started, with the same disposition as if he was calming a spooked horse. “But it could prove very useful for the order. Not only because we can reach out to those who’ve been killed, but because these two are stationed at St. Mungos daily- a place that has to stay open. They have access to information we could not easily acquire otherwise.” 

“Bringing them to the Order’s headquarters before you even sought approval from the rest of us-” Moody growled. “I knew!” Tonks retorted, raising up their hands. “What am I? Chopped liver?” 

“You may have ended up as much, bringing these two here- we still don’t know if this house is compromised!” Moody snapped back. 

“Alastor-” Remus interjected, “If it is compromised then these two haven’t learned anything valuable. They are here now.” 

Moody waved Remus away from you and Byron. You watched as he glanced up to the hole in the wall and smiled brightly at it, walking over to stand beside the painter and Tonks. 

Your attention snapped back to Moody as he raised his wand to your chest. “Well then, are you prepared to be initiated into the Order of the Phoenix?” 

Your body lurched to take a step back, but you forced yourself not to.  Meeting Moody’s eyes, you hoped you were coming off as far more sure of yourself than you felt. Was this it? You were already going to be a member of the Order? How many people were a part of it? What resources did they have? 

“Do you understand,” Moody continued, “that by pledging yourself to the Order, you are misaligning yourself with not only Voldemort and his supporters, but also with the Ministry itself?” You couldn’t tell if Moody was just being paranoid about the Ministry, or if he knew something that hadn’t yet been made public. It made your blood go cold to consider. 

“Yes.” you replied, even as fear rose in you. It was as if you didn’t know yourself anymore, you’d never before committed yourself to something without being certain. 

“Really?” Moody challenged, “You’re prepared to trust the Order above the Ministry of Magic? They could take away your license, Death Eaters could target you if they discovered your loyalties, they could find out where you live, who your clients are, everything.” “I’m not saying I’m not afraid,” you retorted, glancing over at Tonks, “but I know that this is right.” 

“Very well.” Moody said, “Raise your wand.” 

You pulled your wand from your robes, holding it up for Moody to see. Both of his eyes focused on your wand as he briskly tapped his against yours. A loud crack sounded and you pulled back with a start, fearing that your wand had snapped. Inspecting it, you saw that it had not broken or even split- but there was now a date carved into the wood near the base for next week.  

“That’s the time of the next Order meeting.” Moody explained, tapping Byron’s wand with the same spell. 

“Brilliant.” Byron grinned, looking at his wand excitedly. 

“Though it’s unlikely it will be here.” Moody said, giving a pointed look at Remus. “As I said , this location is still compromised .’

You jumped as you realized where you must be. The screaming voice had said the noble house of Black. You looked over to Byron with wide eyes as intrigue gripped you. Byron frowned at you, unable to understand your sudden excitement. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll be th-” Byron had began to assure Moody, before you blurted out, 

“This house was the Black family’s?” 

Everyone besides you and Byron exchanged heavy glances- you were surprised to see how sad they’d all suddenly become. 

“It is.” Remus answered, sighing. “Since Sirius died, we believe that it now belongs, legally, to Harry Potter.” 

“What?” Byron asked, incredulous. “Why?” 

“James and Lily Potter had made Sirius Black Harry’s godfather.” Tonks said, their voice strained with an emotion you couldn’t place. Byron shook his head in shock. 

“But there is still a chance this home is now the property of Ms. Lestrange.” Moody spat, getting agitated all over again. “So it's very likely, until we can prove otherwise, that we will not be using this as our headquarters.” 

Your mind reeled with so many questions. How did they discover all of this? Had they only been using it since Sirius’ death a month ago? Is this why Tonks had asked you to confirm that Black was dead when you first met a couple of weeks ago? You supposed it could be possible, but it didn’t feel realistic. 

“Is Harry- does Harry-” Byron started hesitantly. 

“No, Harry is not part of the Order.” Remus said, with an exhausted air of finality. 

“Yet.” Tonks said with a smirk. Remus shook his head. 

You caught yourself smiling at the dynamic of this group, they all seemed so close. 

“I suppose this was better-” Moody said begrudgingly to Remus, “than having potentially untrustworthy newcomers show up at a more secure location.” 

Tonks gave a dismissive shrug at this, pushing off of the table to walk over to you and Byron. “Glad you decided to join.” they said, grinning at you. 

You couldn’t help but stare at them for a moment before replying. Tonks looked subtly different from before- the grief they’d experienced was still evident in the dark circles of their eyes and in the languid quality of their movements. But when you’d met them Tonks had seemed mousier, now they looked somehow paler and more angular, their hair seemed darker and messier. You felt ridiculous to think it, but it was as if the face you knew Tonks to have had been combined with the likeness of Sirius Black.

“You alright?” Tonks asked, eyes widening. 

“Sorry-” you jumped, “Yes I’m fine, it’s good to see you, Tonks.” you bit your lip, wondering if you could get away with asking any of the hundreds of questions you had. “Is this house really unsafe, or do you think there is a chance it’ll remain the headquarters for the Order?”

“We’ll know soon enough.” Tonks replied, raising an eyebrow at your question. “...Why?” You bit your lip again, which caused Tonks to laugh. “Go on, tell me.” they implored, intrigued. 

“You were asking about Sirius, or- I mean you’re investigating his death?” you asked, watching their expression closely for anything you could use to understand how they felt about it more. To your disappointment, Tonks managed to remain stoic. 

“Why?” their eyes squinted at you, as if they were trying to read your expressions too. You felt your face get warm. 

“I’m trying to help someone who may have been associated with the Blacks.” you replied, trying to keep your disposition as neutral as Tonks managed. 

“A client?” they asked. 

“Not exactly… it’s very difficult to explain.” you sighed, unable to imagine where to start with someone not already familiar with your work. “They do not remember much, but they seem to have an association with Dorea Black and, on top of that-” you frowned, considering your words carefully. “I… after careful consideration, am inclined to think this person may be a Black themselves.”

“May be, or was?” Tonks’ brow knitted together, perplexed. “There are few surviving members of the Black family. There’s my dear Aunts Bellatrix and Narcissa, my mother, and myself.” 

“You’re related to-” you gasped, stopping yourself from finishing the sentence, to Padfoot. You felt your skin prickle eerily- how could everything connect so neatly? Tonks watched your emotions overcome you, concern filling their eyes. 

“You don’t look well.” Tonks said softly, stepping closer. “Come sit.” 

Tonks’ hand slipped over your wrist, gently tugging you into a sitting room that had not yet been stripped of its original design.  There was a dusty velvet fainting sofa among ancient looking relics and a tapestry of a tree that covered an entire wall. 

“Thank you.” you sighed, sitting down and ran your hands down your face. “I apologize, I’m just tired.” you rubbed your eye again. 

“No problem.” Tonks said, walking to the other side of the couch to sit beside you. Their boot caught on a lifted floorboard, and they tripped into the couch, nearly falling onto you before catching themself. “Whoops!” they laughed, righting themselves. “Last thing I should do is tackle the sickly.” 

“I’m not sickly-” you hastily corrected, reaching out to steady them by putting your hand on their shoulder. “Are you alright?” 

“Yea-” Tonks blushed, leaning back into the sofa. “Wow, what a disgusting couch. So dusty.” 

Despite the day you had, you chuckled at this. “Yea-” you agreed with a sigh. 

Pulling your hands away from your face, you looked over to the tapestry. You could feel Tonks watching you, but it wasn’t intrusive. Considering this was only your second time seeing Tonks, you felt very at ease with them. You were grateful that they were so calm and kind, even while it was obvious they were grieving someone. It felt impossible that Tonks would be mourning Sirius Black, but if they were related, and Remus was so clearly also in mourning, how could it be anyone else? 

As you let yourself lean back into the couch, you read the banner embroidered at the top of the tapestry The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Even sitting on the other side of this dimly lit room, the intricacy was impressive and overwhelming. You wondered how it must have felt to be born into a family like this, the privilege and the pressure that would come with it. 

“Are you on there?” you asked. Tonks gave a satisfied smile. 

“Nope. See that burn mark beneath Cygnus and Druella Rosier? Between Bellatrix and Narcissa?” 

“Yea?” you squinted.

“That’s mum.” 

“Oh… wow.” Despite how weak you felt, you pushed yourself off of the couch to take a closer look. Your fingertips ghosted over the branch that connected Cygnus to his sister Walburga, and then down to Regulus Black and another scorch mark.  “So this was Sirius…?” you breathed. 

“Yes.” Tonks replied, their face twisted subtly with another emotion you could not read. 

“I bet she wished she could have undone that.” you thought aloud, tracing over the burn that had once held Sirius’ likeness and name. When Tonks didn’t respond you glanced back at them, jumping a little as you did. Tonk’s appearance had become mousy again, their hair and eyes had faded from a rich black back to a taupe, their skin tone duller, sallower. 

Catching your alarmed expression, Tonks looked down at themselves, their hair, their hands. “Oh-” they said, under their breath. 

Eyes widening, you reached for your wand. Every muscle in your body tensed as panic overtook your mind- what was this? Polyjuice potion? Was this a Death Eater?

Tonks saw the alarm in your eyes and held their hands up reassuringly. “It’s okay, you’re alright- I’m a metamorphmagus. My looks can change at will- sometimes when I’m not paying attention my appearance slips into something else!” 

You kept your wand pointed at Tonk’s chest as their words slowly sunk in. How were you going to cope with this new, more dangerous world of any disguised wix could lead you into a room alone and unsuspecting? 

“Prove it.” you ordered, lowering your wand slightly. 

At your request, the mousy wix before you turned seamlessly into Remus Lupin, then yourself, and then Byron but with the wrong nose. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, lowering your wand at once. “Thank you for being so understanding.” 

Tonks faded back into their mousier self, looking into your face with concern. “Come sit down,” they suggested softly, “you look like you’re going to faint.” 

You had expected Diagon Alley to be empty, but as you passed through on your way to Knockturn Alley, a crowd of people obscured your view of the center square. You couldn’t stop as you quickly made your way to The Coffin House- it felt cheeky enough to be in Knockturn Alley, let alone joining in on a random crowd. Pushing your way through the door, you saw Asterius right where you had left him, behind the counter. 

“Welcome back-“ Asterius greeted hoarsely. “You look well.”

“Hah.” you retorted. Even now, two days after you’d last used the candles, you still felt sick, your eye still felt scratched. “You would know.”

“Yes,” Asterius coughed through a chuckle. “I do. How can I help you today?” 

You scanned the shelves of product while Asterius watched you. 

“Those candles burn very quickly.” you mused, “If I had managed to use them as often as you’d suggested, I would have been back here quite soon.” 

“Oh, are they a bit strong for you?” Asterius tilted his head, his mouth twitching into a smile. “Not everyone is cut out for such involved scrying, perhaps you’re not up for it?” 

“If I wasn’t up for it, I wouldn’t be here.” you corrected, squaring your posture. “So how many candles would I really need to scry at least eight times between this weekend and the next new moon?” 

Asterius gave a nod of approval that you had found the sincere instructions from the abstract advice he’d given you the first time you’d met. Then, looking down at his hands,  he considered your question. “It took me five years to scry eight times in one moon.” 

Your heart thudded in your chest. “I don’t have five years.” you blurted out. You felt your blood cool  inside your veins as you watched Asterius’ eyebrow arch. He didn’t look sympathetic, if anything he looked entertained. 

“Why not?” Asterius probed with a fevered glint in his eyes. 

You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came to you. You had to remind yourself why you needed to scry at least eight times before the next new moon, because in your haste and your obsession, you had begun to oversimplify. To save Padfoot, you needed to do as Asterius had said on your first meeting, ‘To breach the boundary you came to.’

Was it safe to assume that Asterius and you scryed into the same Halls? You looked into Asterius’ glassy eyes, feeling adrenaline wash over you. Though you held a strange fondness for him, Asterius didn’t seem well aligned, and didn’t seem trustworthy. Nevertheless, the knowledge he held about this practice was vital for your success- did you really have another option?

“Is it that presence you mentioned before?”

“Yes.” you answered, the way Asterius looked at you made you feel vulnerable. His smile had turned from vapid amusement to something more sincere, more sincere and more dangerous. 

“So you’ve been able to find them again?” he asked.

“They are there unless they do not want to be seen.” you replied slowly, careful with your words. Again, Asterius’ reaction took a dramatic emotional turn, the smile fell from his uneven mouth as he looked surprised, his brow heavy and creased. Had you offended him, somehow?

You remembered then what Byron had told you, Asterius had been connected to Regulus Black, a man who had disappeared after becoming a Death Eater.

“Are you…” you started softly, “Are you looking for someone, too?” 

“I am a follower of Ms. Black’s teachings.” Asterius replied with a snarl. Withdrawing a bone white wand from his robes, Asterius summoned ten candles between the two of you. “That will be 14 galleons.”

“You suggested two last time.” you argued, frowning back. “Doesn’t ten seem like overkill?” 

“If you’re going to try to fit 5 years of practice into one month, you may need to overcompensate and scry more than eight times.” 

“Fine.” you sighed, placing the galleons on the counter. Asterius took his time scraping each coin into his hand as you picked up the candles and pocketed them in your cloak. If this was how sick you felt scrying twice in two weeks, you couldn’t imagine trying to survive ten sessions in one month. Asterius seemed to recognize the concern on your face as he finished accepting your money. 

“I will keep you in mind in those Halls.” Asterius said under his breath, lost in your gaze. “And you will learn as I learned-”

“You had a teacher.” you retorted, annoyed. “You said Dorea Black taught this to you.” 

Asterius shook his head, smiling slowly. “We all come to those Halls in our own way. There is no guide that will bring you there. It is always by your own course.” 

“Then what did Dorea do?” 

“She discovered it, and me.” “What do you mean?” you urged. 

Asterius leaned over the counter conspiratorially, “She found it.” he whispered, his eyes flickering between himself and you. “You know, for people like…us?” 

“...Seers?” 

“Bloody hell.” Asterius sighed, rolling his eyes. “No. Haven’t you felt the sentiments? I wished for you before you were known to me. Your face was in my mind before I saw you with my eyes? ” 

“No.” you replied, cautiously. Asterius looked suddenly frantic as he continued, 

“ Do not let the gifts of muddied blood fool you, as they are filled with anxious fear. I will give you what you should love. I’ll be bound by my words according to your rites: then, I’ll make ready for you to travel to my kingdom.”

Asterius began to cough violently, his hands coming to cover the lower half of his face as he doubled over. You jumped, startled, as you watched Asterius choke for air. Rushing around the counter, you placed your hand gently against his back. 

“Breathe.” you cooed, conjuring a glass of water with your wand in your other hand. 

With a final gasp, Asterius stood back up, pulling his hands away from his mouth. “Thank you-” he gasped, accepting the glass with a shaking hand. You noticed that between his fingers, it looked as if there were flower petals sticking to his palm. 

You didn’t feel well enough to apparate, and since the walk back home was a short trip through Diagon Alley anyway, it seemed harmless enough. As you passed the center square, you couldn’t help but glance over to where the crowd had congregated on your way in. The group was nowhere to be seen. Stopping, you looked past where they had been to see Ollivander’s shop door wide open, the inside dark, as Ministry officials paced carefully through it, wands raised high. 

Your legs ached by the time you stepped into your home. It didn’t feel right to stroll leisurely through Diagon Alley after seeing Ollivander’s like that. You’d have to ask Byron about it tomorrow. Taking off your cloak, you tossed it onto your kitchen table before making your way to your bedroom. You were exhausted, you would deal with the candles tomorrow. 

Falling into your bed was, bar none, the most luxurious feeling. You felt yourself drifting off before you had even finished waving your wand at the windows so the curtains would draw closed. Sleep overtook you swiftly and heavily. You sighed into the dark arrest, relieved that you had made it home, that you were safe. 

Occasionally, the odd sound pulled you away from sleep. A creek in your neighbor’s floor, the echo of a Hall, or water going through pipes. You sighed, finally finding sleep as you dreamed of a veil, softly billowing in a windless room. All was dark around you, so dim that it was difficult to make out your hand in front of you. You felt the scratch against your eye flair, as a crowned, figure adorned in gilded armor appeared from the Veil and spoke low, 

"And for you, who would reach this boundary, set foot on my threshold, to see the sun in the middle of the night, blazing with bright light, to approach me from below, from above, and worship me from nearby." The sound shook the Hall, the Veil quivered with its force. "You are saved from Perceforest this night."

-X-