#I fucking miss Merlin and everyone and everything that brought its magic to life

[ladyofthelake]

Merlin - That's a wrap! (Pierrefonds Sep 2012)

Last Day of Merlin filming 2012 featuring Bradley Colin and Angel 💙✨

[endlessymphony]

🧸 Congrats on 50! It is very much so deserved and so are all the future followers! If it’s not too much could I request a fluffy blurb with the one and only Remus Lupin, like a classic friends to lovers awkward and sweet first date shenanigans? Ilyyyy

thank u my beloved anon! <3

i think i’m in love with you. (pt. 1???)

pairing - remus lupin x reader

summary - the good ol’ best friends to lovers trope

warnings - cussing, lots of awkwardness, mentions of underage drinking

a/n - this is vaguely inspired by my ‘you are the kind of boy that they write love songs about.’ spotify playlist— because it’s adorable + has the same vibe

a/n continued; pls let me know if you guys want me to continue this fic to include the date! i honestly think this is just so sweet and cute, and would love to hear some feedback about it :) (might make it a two parter if y’all like it enough!!)

you and remus had been friends since fourth year, and while it wasn’t quite the ‘perfect’ first impression that brought you together, recalling the memory makes you smile nonetheless. most would claim that first impressions are truly everything, but you would beg to differ- seeing as being drenched in pumpkin juice by a very apologetic and slightly aloof boy has now led to one of the best friendships you’ve ever had.

tonight was just an average friday night in the gryffindor dorms as the marauders were hosting their usual ‘study’ night; obviously there was lots of chatter and laughter with an absence of any real studying happening, the name only aided in the fight against being caught by any teachers.

you and remus had claimed the couch whilst lily, james and sirius were scattered about the floor, peter sitting in a chair beside the couch.

glasses in hand, you were all slightly tipsy off of combinations of muggle alcohol that sirius managed to get his hands on, chests feeling as if they were alight. your skin tingled, brain and tongue feeling fuzzy as you laughed along with the others about something that james said.

you looked over at remus and caught him staring at you, you made brief eye contact before he looked away, a bit shy, but you giggled at decided to brush it off.

“you guys will never guess what i got for us tonight.” sirius started, legs slightly wobbly as he stood up. he reached into his pocket and retrieved a vial of veritaserum, “what better way to play truth or dare... then with some of this?”

you all looked around at each-other skeptically, knowing all about what that tiny vial can do to friendships, relationships, and your head. “i say we do it.” james pipes up, a smirk coming to his face. “...unless any of you have something to hide.” he turns to look at you and remus, raising his eyebrows a bit. you and remus turned to look at once another, cheeks darkening as your faces start to heat up. you look away quickly and try to ignore it, again.

ignore that feeling pooling in your stomach. the way your heart begins to flutter when you lock gazes. no, it can’t mean anything, right?

you all eventually give in to sirius’ antics, passing around the vial- everyone taking a shot. you’re the one to finish off the potion, it was an odd taste, your face contorting as you swallow it. not sweet, but not bitter, but also not sour- somehow all three combined to be one of the weirdest things you’ve ever tasted.

you place the glass vial down on the table in front of you, everyone waiting for the potion to take its effect. you sipped on your drink as you waited, hoping the taste of whatever lily mixed up would wash away the taste of the veritaserum.

and soon enough the ‘truth’ serum, as its called, began to work its magic on the rest of the group and yourself. your thoughts began to run- what if i mention the way that remus makes me feel? no, y/n, we’re not doing that tonight, plus no one will ask about it anyways. well, you spoke-thought too soon. everyone knew in some way or another that you and remus each had a thing for one another, so why not play on it when you’re both forced to tell the truth?

lily turned to the two of you with a wicked grin, just finishing up her dare, which you had missed due to the fact that you were consumed by your thoughts. her voice snapped you out of the haze, “so, y/n, truth or dare?” she drawled. both were terrible options. you knew that if you chose dare, you would end up licking someone’s foot or running down the corridor topless. but! truth was all the more terrifying. though, you suppose it’s the lesser embarrassing one of the two.

“truth.” you responded flatly, mumbling under your breath begging the universe to not mention remus. “what’s going on with you and remus, hm? do you like each-other?” her eyes glinted mischievously as she swirled the remnants of the drink in her hand around her cup. you wanted to say ‘nothing!’ but that wasn’t happening, mouth going before mind.

“i think he’s cute, and he gives me this weird butterfly feeling in my chest and sometimes talking to him makes me feel nauseous because i’m so nervous, maybe i think i’m in love with him.” you slapped your hand over your mouth to stop what felt like a stream of verbal diarrhea, eyes widening at what you just said. ���shit, fuck. remus, i’m so sorry.” you said turning to him as you stood up.

you could almost cry from the embarrassment, well, that’s what you were doing as you speed walked back to your dorm. you couldn’t stay there, not after that, and you definitely couldn’t face remus. you just told your best friend you were in love with him, for merlins sake! if that wasn’t going to ruin the friendship- no, don’t even go there. that will ruin the friendship.

you launched yourself onto your bed, door shutting behind you. burying your head in the pillows, you just wished the mattress would swallow you so that you didn’t have to face reality. tears were scarce by this point, most of them streaming down your cheeks as you sped away into the hall.

remus was still sitting in the common room, dumbfounded. “shit.” he mumbled, mind completely scattered after your turn. james and sirius turned to him, sympathetically, well as sympathetically as they could until sirius cocked an eyebrow and started to muse, “you gonna go get them lover-boy?”

“yeah-“ he smoothed his hands on his sweater, “i am.” remus stood up and took after you, knowing that you always holed yourself up in your dorm whenever anything upset you. ‘they’re bound to be wrapped in blankets, face in the pillows’ he thought.

and that’s how you were exactly. wrapped in a crocheted blanket, face in the pillows. you didn’t know if you wanted to scream, or cry, or just run away and get a new identity and start a new life at beauxbatons or something as a transfer student.

remus reached your dorm, fist quivering as he started to knock on your door. “y/n.” he called, voice wavering. you sat up, “the doors open, rem.” he peeked in, a goofy grin coming to his face. “there you are.” he chimed, closing the door behind him as he walked in, sitting on your bed beside you.

“you always do that, y’know? whenever you’re upset or embarrassed, you always wrap yourself in that blanket and lay face down. sometimes you scream, or cry, or just end up taking a nap.” he chuckles lightly. “i hope you don’t feel bad about earlier.” remus stares at his feet, tapping one against the hardwood flooring. “i just don’t wanna ruin our friendship with my stupid crush.” you admit, feeling defeated, but he chuckles again.

you turn to look at him and cock your head, “what’s so funny?” you feel even worse, is he mocking you right now? laughing in your face? ouch- remus you absolute douchebag.

but it’s none of that, “well, y/n, to put it plainly, i think i’m in love with you too.” he stops his foot, looking up at you. your eyes meet, hearts both racing. “oh.” is all you can manage. his eyes dart back to the floor, “would, uh” he clears his throat slightly, “could i kiss you? maybe? would that be okay?” remus’ face starts to turn pink, a colour that you always thought complimented him quite well.

“yeah. that would be fine.” you replied, breathlessly. him saying that completely winded you. he gently placed his pointer finger under your chin, thumb bumping against your bottom lip as he leaned in. your eyes fluttered shut as you met him in the middle, lips brushing. it took everything in you not to just die then and there.

you bumped noses a few times throughout the kiss, giggles filling the room as you both pulled away- feeling the same breathless feeling once more. “so, this isn’t gonna ruin our friendship, right?” you asked, a smile playing on your lips. “of course not, if anything, now i just want you to be my best-friend AND my partner.”

“that would be lovely, rem.” you smiled even wider, pulling him in for another kiss.

maybe this whole awkward and messy confession wasn’t as bad as you thought.

[weasleydream]

Family reunion - Part 1

Here we are for some George imagine! I think it will be in 3 parts. I would love to have feedbacks, it could help me. Enjoy!

Masterlist

It seemed like Harry was right: everyone needed to laugh. Fred and George’s joke shop, Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, had an unexpected success, and that, since its opening. Last year, when the boys had decided to leave Hogwarts before the end of the year, I had followed them. I knew I couldn’t have stood Umbridge one more day, so when my boyfriend, George, had told me about their departure, I had simply answered that I would go with them. I had helped them setting up the shop and I was now working with them. 

It was really fun, and Merlin knew we needed it. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back and getting stronger and stronger, the Daily Prophet had announced massive breakouts from Azkaban, and the disasters multiplied, both in Muggle and magical worlds. The boys’ shop was like another world, one where the problems didn’t exist and where you didn’t have to fear for your family’s life. It was just full of laughters, kids’ amazed eyes and products truly magical. 

On this wednesday morning, the shop was relatively empty. The beginning of the Easter holidays was only two weeks later, and when they weren’t urged by their children, the parents entering the store were rare. That’s why our helper, Verity, didn’t have to come. Oh, how I despised this girl! Always flirting with George and batting her eyelashes while calling him Mr Weasley… Obviously, the boys found the situation very funny. Fred loved to call his brother stupid pet names mimicking Verity when I was here. Under normal circumstances, I would laugh with them but lately, I had found myself upset way too easily. That’s why when Verity arrived in her magenta robe, all smiling and “I wanted to come and help… It doesn’t bother you, does it, Y/N?” I lost it. George, who had been sitting next to me since there was no one, watched me speechless while I stormed off and rushed to the little flat above the shop. 

I ran into the bedroom George and I shared, slamming the door in passing. I sat on the bed and hugged a pillow. Why did I have to be so stressed and terrified and sensitive? And above all, why did I have to throw up my breakfast everyday since the beginning of this awful week? Because it was exhausting to say the least. George had thought it was overwork. Fred blamed George’s eggs. Well, in front of me, because I had caught a conversation between the twins and Fred was confessing his twin he was afraid whatever I had could be worse than overworking. 

“Here you are, Y/N, our dearest Mr Weasley wonders where you are.”

Speaking of the devil… His stupid imitation of Verity upset me more than I would have admit. A sob that I couldn’t contain escaped my mouth and Fred was immediately by my side. 

“I didn’t want to make you cry kiddo… What’s upsetting you?”

He was gently stroking my back with the most serious face I had never seen on him. I didn’t respond, fighting against another sob. However it won the fight and escaped my lips too. Fred reacted pretty quickly. 

“GEORGE! BRING YOUR ARSE HERE!”

He had pulled me against his chest, his hand now stroking my hair. 

“Y/N, we are so worried about you… You know you can tell us everything, right?” Then he moved away and tried to meet my eyes. “Wait… It isn’t about George, is it?” 

I shook my head. 

“Okay, just to be sure.”

George barged in the room, panting and clearly panicking. 

“Sorry, there were customers and… Y/N what’s happening?”

He immediately kneeled in front of me, grabbing my hand and watching me with pleading eyes. I couldn’t talk, I didn’t even know why but my body had decided to relieve all the stress and I was a sobbing mess. I missed a significant look between the twins and Fred left, not without kissing my hair and assuring me he would always be here for me. He gently closed the door, leaving me alone with my terrified boyfriend.

“Did I do something wrong? Y/N, did I upset you? I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I promise -”

“Shut up and hug me.” I whispered. 

My voice was broken and I saw how much it hurt George just before he engulfed me in a bear hug. I hid my face into the crook of his neck, smelling his perfume, the one he always bought because I loved it. I felt his hands on me and his face buried in my hair. Slowly but surely, I was calming myself, only thinking about my luck. When my breathing finally returned to its normal state, George slowly cupped my face with his hands, as if he didn’t want to scare me. It reminded me of our first kisses, our first intimate moments, when he was still unsure of himself and afraid he would make a bad step. He looked at me in the eyes, his beautiful brown orbs full of tears probing my soul as if it could prevent me from expressing what was hurting me. However, he couldn’t find the answer, I didn’t know it myself. Finally, he spoke, his voice really low.

“Y/N, baby, what’s wrong?”

A simple question that instantaneously brought back tears into my eyes. Without thinking, George pulled me against his chest once more. This time, I managed an answer.

“Verity, she’s always...with you… And You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters…your family… George I’m terrified! I don’t want you to die, I don’t want Fred, your family, everyone, even Verity, I don’t want them to die!”

He chuckled sweetly.

“Even Verity? You’re so kind.”

This time, it was my turn to let out a watery chuckle. George grabbed my face, gently forcing me to look at him.

“Listen babe, I won’t let anything happen to you, you hear me? I will fight every Death Eater that threats you, you or any family member, I would fight You-Know-Who if it was for you. You’re gonna be okay, we’re all gonna be okay, that’s a promise. And don’t worry about Verity. There’s only one witch I love, and right now she’s in my arms.”

“Really?” Of course I knew he loved me, but I needed a confirmation.

“I promise. Plus, you wear the uniform way better than her.” 

“Idiot.”

With a little smile, he pulled me on his torso and we lied on the bed. His hands took their habitual place, one in my hair and the other on my back. I could hear his heartbeat, and his sweet voice when he told me to sleep, that everything would be okay and that he would stay with me. 

I was pretty sure I hadn’t slept more than an hour when my painful stomach woke me. I just had the time to notice that George had kept his promise and was softly snoring before I felt the urge to go to the bathroom. I pushed Fred aside in the corridor and ran only to fall on my knees in front of the toilets and throw up. Fred had followed me and took my hair, calling for George. His brother arrived soon and started to stroke my back as I was emptying my stomach. After what felt like hours, I finally stopped throwing up and tried to stand up, exhausted. George hold my waist, afraid I would fall, and made me sit on a chair Fred had just brought here. 

“You okay?”

I nodded, drinking the glass full of water my boyfriend had handed me. I looked at him, then at Fred, and saw how much they were worried. 

“It’s the third time this week, isn’t it?” Fred was frowning.

“Yes, I think so.” 

I didn’t want the boys to worry about me, the joke shop was enough. 

“Shall we bring you to St-Mungo’s?”

“No, it’s okay, really.”

None of them seemed reassured. George was holding tightly my hand, probably considering stupefying me and bringing me to the hospital, when I almost saw a light turning on on Fred’s eyes. I couldn’t understand what it was. Fear? Uncertainty? Excitement? 

“It’s been a while since, you know, you… Well since you threw me a pillow in the face because I was speaking too loud in the morning, don’t you think, Y/N?”

I looked at George, hoping he would have understood what Fred meant, but he seemed think that his brother was definitely crazy. 

“What the hell does that mean?”

Fred’s face was bright red. I really didn’t understand what had gotten into him. Yes, it had been a while, but I only did that when - Oh. Fuck. 

“He���s right…” I muttered. 

George looked at me in disbelief. 

“I really don’t understand…”

“My periods George! I only throw pillows at Fred when he bothers me during my periods!”

It was even a sort of joke between us. When he would speak too loud in the morning and I would throw him the first pillow I could reach, George would laugh at the scene and say that it was that time of the month where I would become a real tigress. Anyway, the realization was clearly visible in my boyfriend’s eyes.

“Oh. Fuck.”

To be continued 

[minervahopebeyond]

Blood Daffodils.

Chapter 5: The wedding. (Part 3/3)

The ceremony had been beautiful, a perfect mixture of Fleur's culture with the Weasley's traditions...

 

Draco was enchanted with everything, he always loved weddings... The bride's dress, the groom's dress-robes, decorations, the vows... Magic always seemed to surround the recently married couple, bringing them even more together and making them even more in love than before.

 

Of course, that only happen when you got married because of love, not in arrange marriages like it was costumary in the pureblood families. His parents were an exception to the rule, because his mother once told him that she had liked his father since her first year at school. So since that moment, she asked Draco's grandmother, every summer, if she could arrange a marriage with Lucius Malfoy until it became true. His father was taken with Narcissa as well, so as their Hogwarts years went by, they fell madly in love with each other.

 

Draco always dreamed of marrying Harry Potter. He dreamed about having a summer wedding, just like Bill’s and Fleur's, in a beautiful garden, something small intimate with all the ancient traditions; the dances, everything. Now, to that fantasy, he added dancing to 'Love of my life' in their first dance.

 

Not that it would ever happen, of course.

 

He took a sip of his wine as he watched the happy couple dancing in the middle of the dance floor. Everyone was clapping around them as they danced.

 

He could see Mr. Potter smiling softly as he looked at Sirius who grinning wide and beautifully at Bill and Fleur as he clapped to the beat.

 

 Next to them, Remus was trying to explain to Nymphadora that he was quite happy not dancing at all... They were so cute together, it had been quite a surprise to everyone when, last year, after the battle, Tonks kissed him in front of the entire Order of the Phoenix. During the couple of times that they went to have dinner at the Potter's mansion, Draco had taken the opportunity to remind Remus of that scolding, the prior summer, that the blond boy had received for his joke about dating Charlie because of their age difference.

 

Draco's eyes drifted to look at the dragon-tamer. Charlie was laughing at something that Fred and George just said, glass in hand. His dress-robes were almost as dashing as Bill's given the fact that he was the best man, Mrs. Weasley had been quite insistent about keeping the forms and that included the dress-code; the twins were pretty much annoyed about the entire thing. Charlie must had feel his gaze on him because he looked at Draco. The blond boy looked away as quickly as he could, blush appearing in his cheeks.

 

"I think your brother caught me staring at him, be a good friend and hide me, Weasley."

 

The redhead chuckled and waved at Charlie. The blond boy punched him on the arm, which only made Ron laugh before seeing something that seemed to erase his smile automatically. He followed the direction of his friend's eyes to find the source of his discomfort. It was Granger laughing with her international quidditch star ex-boyfriend.

 

Draco brought his glass to his lips before before emptying its content. Hermione was too busy talking with Krum, and Potter was too busy pretending to be a Weasley cousin and talking with Ginevra; hence Ron and him being the bitter bastards of the party. Cheers.The alcohol was starting to low his inhibitions. He didn't mean to drink as much as he had but because of what happened that same morning, he thought that he deserved a bloody break.

 

He turned to look at his friend again.

 

"You know what would be considerably more fun than moping about our love interests, weasel?" The redhead looked at him with amusement in his expression.

 

"Are you drunk already?" Draco only moved his hand, gesturing that yes, more or less. "What's the plan?" Ron asked before leaving his glass on the nearest table. Draco just grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the dance floor.

 

The songs were more fun by then, not as fun as dancing to Queen or, well, any other muggle band, but it was definitely more entertaining than spending the entire night looking at Potter with longing eyes. The song was customary danced by couples, Weasley also knew the steps, probably because Molly or Arthur had force their children to practice before the wedding. Draco and Ron twirled and jumped to the beat, laughing everytime that the weasel stomped on his feet and the blond boy pinched his arm in return.

 

After a while, Draco noticed that almost everyone were looking at them, probably because they were laughing so bloody laud that they were interrupting the party.

 

"I feel judged, ferret."

 

"Couldn't agree more, weasel. How about a drink?"

 

"Yeah, no. You are not allowed to drink anymore, I don't want you tripping all over the place."

 

"I beg your pardon? I seem to recall that you were one who couldn't walk straight to your common room." Weasley smiled smugly at him.

 

"Well, at least, I walk straight sometimes." Draco barked out a laugh and nudged him playfully.

 

Suddenly, someone was touching Draco's shoulder. When he turned around, he found Charlie's gorgeous eyes looking at him, small smirk on his lips. 

"Nice dancing, very smooth, not clumsy at all." Draco lifted his chin.

"I'll have you known that I'm a spectacular dancer, your brother is the one who moves like a troll." Draco could hear Ron muttering a 'Fuck off'.

"Well, how about you dance with a more qualified partner?" The redhead said as he offered his hand to take him back to the dance floor.

Merlin, how Draco wished to don't give a fuck. To not care about Potter, to not think about Theodore; because maybe, if he didn't care about anything, Charlie would seem like an awesome choice. Tall, handsome, brave and kind... Good dancer too, he noticed, funny as hell, he kept whispering things in Draco's ear, trying to make him laugh. He praised him too, said that he looked dashing and that his make-up looked beautiful.

It was so fucking frustrating, he wanted to be able to look at people, really look at them. Like he looked at Theodore, and still, everytime that Potter fucking talked to him, the brunette would instantly disappear from his mind. Because there was no comparison. Yes, he loved Theodore but he wasn't in love with him and he definitely couldn't even look at Charlie, not more than admiring and enjoying his company.

A bright  light irrupted in the tend, a silver Lynx announcing what Draco feared since last year.

"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.”

No. Not now.

Everyone started to apparate away and in a matter of seconds Death Eaters were attacking them. Charlie was fighting, along with the rest of the Weasleys, except for Ron who was running towards Hermione. Draco almost ran behind him...

Yeah, no. The golden trio could take care of themselves, Mr. Potter on the other hand had already died once and Sirius tended to do reckless shit when someone was in danger. He found Potter trying to help Ginevra, shouting like a mad man and he caught him by his shirt to stop him.

"SHE IS GOING TO BE FINE! GO, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" Draco shouted in between the caos, As he pushed him towards Hermione who was already holding Weasley's hand. Hesitation flashed through the girl's eyes when she realized that the blond boy wasn't making any attempt of running away with them.

"GO. NOW." He commanded at her and the three of them apparated away. Draco couldn't miss the panic in Potter's face before they disappeared.

Good. Now let's find the other two reckless Gryffindors.

It was madness, people were taken away and he could hear the Death Eaters demanding for the guests to hand in Potter.  He found Sirius and Mr. Potter fighting back to back, quite literally, great method to avoid being curse on the back but still, the killing curse couldn't be blocked... They needed to leave.

He ran towards them, almost knocking them to the floor as he casted a Fumos Charm. The cloud of smoke started to surround them as Draco yelled at them.

“We have to leave! We have to find them!”

And that was enough explanation for James who caught both of their arms and apparated them into the middle of the living room of the mansion.

Silence. Fucking finally.

“Kid, you are bleeding.”

“I’ll get the Dittany.” He heard Sirius say before running towards the bathroom cabinet.

Everything was moving too fast. He felt the potion drip over the wound on his shoulder, closing it, hurting like hell. He let out a pained noise.

“Sorry, little cousin, almost done.” Draco shook his head.

“Not your fault, I drank too much.”

After Sirius was done, he asked him to fetch the map that was hidden under his bed. His cousin looked at him with confused eyes but did as he was told. Mr. Potter was frantically pacing around him, so bloody nervous.

“Hurry the fuck up, Sirius!”

“DON’T YOU YELL AT ME, YOU BRAT!” His voice sounded muffled because of the distance and maybe because he had his head under Draco’s bed to get the map.

When Sirius got downstairs to where they were, he had a frowned on his face.

“It looks like a regular map.”

“Because it is. Give it to me.”

His cousin put the map on his hand and Draco unfolded carefully to lay it, on the floor, in front of him. Then he grabbed his wand and casted a Diffindo on his hand. He heard the two men gasp, surprised, as he closed his hand tightly, letting the blood drip over the map. Once it seemed like a good amount, he asked for more dittany on his hand.

‘This is going to work, if you could bring Mr. Potter back to life, you definitely can do this.’

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the spell and only the spell, on the urge to find them. ‘Powerful spells need powerful magic sources, my Dragon prince. Hate or love are powerful enough to kill or save someone, always choose love. Always love deeply, Draco.’His mother’s voice was echoing in his head.

Love. Potter. Weasley. Granger.

He needed to find them.

He took another deep breath before pronouncing the enchantment.

“Reperio ones diligamus, datur nobis ad ones, quae sunt sanguine.” The drops of blood seemed to begin shaking as they listened to Draco’s command. “Reperio ones diligamus, datur nobis ad ones, quae sunt sanguine.” They started to move, slowly, leaving a trail of red as they gathered together and moved towards their destiny. “Reperio ones diligamus, datur nobis ad ones, quae sunt sanguine.” The blood settled on a little spot. Draco frowned.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! They can’t be this stupid!”

His cousin was frowning at the map as well.

“That’s Grimmauld.”

They went to fetch them when Draco said that he was feeling good enough to endure another apparition.

Wands out, entering the old house again, risking being found by Severus again.

They heard Potter casting a stupefy as soon as they crossed the door. Mr. Potter casted a protego just as quick as his son.

“It’s us, Potty. Lower your wand.”

But the three of them were holding out their wands still, and neither Sirius or James lowered theirs.

“What was the first thing that you said about hufflepuff when we met, Malfoy?” The green-eyed boy asked, suspicious.

“That I’d leave if I got sorted into Hufflepuff. When did we meet?”

“At Madam Malkin’s, your mother was looking at wands for you and you told me that you were going to drag your father to look at brooms after.”

Finally, Potter lowered his wand and everyone did the same.

“Why didn’t you come with us? You bloody scared me to death.” The boy hissed at him.

“I needed to find Sirius and your father, Weasley was wearing the necklace,I knew I’d find you after.”

Potter frowned, maybe the weasel hadn’t told him about it... Ron walk towards him and pulled him into a hug.

“This is really the best present that I’ve gotten, ever. Thanks for coming to get us, we didn’t know if we were being followed.”

Draco smiled softly and tightened his arms around the redhead.

“You are not getting rid of me that easily, weasel. I’m just glad that you are safe, really... and don’t you ever dare to take the necklace off.”

“I promise I won’t, ferret.”

Potter face was as moody as it could be, probably mad at Draco for separating him from Ginevra in the middle of the fight. Draco pulled away from his friend and turned to look at the rest of the group.

“Now, how about we really start that horcrux hunt?”

[thetwistedclocks]

so like,,,, couldn’t focus and did this instead

- time for a hunting trip or patrol or whatever everyone’s there and alive we got the whole gang: arthur, leon, percival, elyan, gwaine, lancelot, and merlin

-this is an au so gwen and lancelot just are together and there was no drama with arthur

- gorgeous day, kinda hot though so they decide to stop for lunch and fuel up

- le bandits sneak up on them, and attack

-everything is just like a typical fight, everybody but merlin is whirling around, doing their thing

-merlin is behind a tree, doing little stuff to make sure no one is wounded badly or killed

-our shining knights wipe everyone out, just a ton of bloody bodies scattered around the clearing except they missed one

-this little rat sneaks up behind merlin and he’s got a knife poised to kill merlin

- arthur yells desperately for merlin to move, he cannot lose him not after morgana, not after his father, no no no 

- merlin whips around to defend himself, but he has no weapons, everyone else is too far away to help, and without thinking he blows the man back twenty feet, where he hits a tree and dies 

- everyone is frozen in place

-merlin slowly turns around to see arthur because oh shit

- arthur says no in a strangled, desperate voice

- arthur’s face contorts and he then starts to scream: how could you, you lying bastard, i trusted you, you were my best friend

- gwaine preemptively moves towards merlin, fearing for merlins safety

- lancelot does the same

-merlin just quietly says im sorry and then whirlwinds out of there but lancelot and gwaine were close enough to get sucked in with him

-the trio lands in a forest pretty far away from camelot, and merlin just curls up into a ball

-gwaine and lancelot look at each other and merlin in shock and have a silently mouthed conversation above merlin’s head

- Gwaine: what the fuck Lancelot: shit ok did you know Gwaine: I kinda had some idea but I never dug too deep into it, did you know? lancelot: yes, he saved my life by killing the griffin with magic Gwaine: so what now Lancelot: I guess we’re fugitives with him now Gwaine: he’s not gonna move for a bit, we need to take care of him until he recovers Lancelot: agreed, lets find shelter for the night

- and they do they just build a fire and make sure merlin’s warm and has some water but he refuses food

-back with arthur the remaining knights suggest going after the trio but arthur shuts them down, hes not letting himself show any emotion

-they ride back to camelot, everyone finds out, gaius is just broken at this cause he cant see merlin or help him anymore, gwen decides to leave camelot without telling anyone to search for her best friend and love, she forgives merlin but wants an explanation, arthur turns in on himself and closes himself off, hes curt and cold, the other knights just dont talk about it though they each slowly forgive the trio over a long period of time

-after a week of no talking, merlin finally speaks to gwaine and lancelot and says: “lets go back home, I can face arthur, and you two can rejoin the knights

-they immediately refuse, saying that they trust and love merlin, and they chose to stay with him

-merlin brings up gwen in hopes to convince at least lancelot but he says its safer for her in camelot and he trusts he’ll see her again someday

-merlin just cant argue anymore, hes tired, and mourning everything he’s lost

-in the morning, they decide well we gotta live somewhere so they figure out where they are, which is western camelot on the very edge at the foot of a mountain range that marks camelot’s border

-they set up a little cabin just outside a nearby village and live their lives

-pretty soon, after occasionally being in the village for supplies, the villagers get suspicious and ask them questions

- they just so happen to catch merlin, who’s a terrible liar, and he blurts out hes a healer

-this village has 0 healers so they start to bring their sick to merlin, who heals them for free, which results in lots of gifts of food and other stuff

-gwaine and lancelot start teaching sword fighting to keep themselves sharp and help out the village

-things are chill like this for a few months

-gwen is still wandering around, learns a bit about magic, and is just traveling through western camelot, hoping to find the trio

-back in camelot, arthur is cracking down on magic

-he isn’t killing people, but anyone found guilty of magic or anything is locked away in these cells uther had made under the regular dungeon out of sorcerers’ bones that contains magic, its like a second purge, just without the executions

-gwen knows this and wants merlin to come back and stop arthur

-lancelot and gwaine slowly gets merlin’s entire story out of him, and see him as a leader now

-merlin is quieter, more reserved, and rarely uses magic at all

-one time this little girl, maybe 10, is brought to merlin wiht a weird set of symptoms

-merlin immediately knows shes developing magic, so he sends the parents away, promising he will heal her, and then he tells her

-she is scared of not being abole to control her new powers but isnt scared of having the magic itself, and tells merlin that her parents are ok with magic too

-the next day he meets with her family, and they discuss it, and eventually, they all decide that he can train her

-so like a few weeks go by of this, and then another person comes to merlin

-this time its an older woman and she wants to learn how to control her magic

-pretty soon merlin is training a lot of people and gets a reputaion

-gwaine and lancelot are worried about how little he sleeps, and how little he talks about the past, they cant help him though

-gwen hears about this village, where magic is celebrated, and finds it

-she arrives, and runs into gwaine, who takes her hand and runs shouting throught the village back to the cottage where lancelot is training 

-happy reunion yay

-she and merlin talk, she gets his full story, and he is just a little happier knowing that she’s there but he also finds out about whats going on in camelot

-in camelot, all of the knights just dont talk to arthur anymore, for fear of his verbal abuse

-hes crushed that gwen is gone too, and feels that he has been abandoned 

-more and more magic users flock to this village until rumors reach all the way back to camelot

-arthur orders a raid, he orders no killing

-he doesn’t lead it, but eventually, 20 knights or so attack the village

- a lot of magic users are taken, and a few people killed in fires set by the knights

-merlin feels responsible and decides that his merry band of misfits needs to be safer and a whole lot more defended

-so he and a majority of the village move into the mountains

-merlin is now the accidental leader of a rebel camp

-its called camp maxia(magic in galcian/gaelic) and its inhabitants maxians

-years go by, as the camp grows with refugee families and those from villages attacked by bandits because the knights are all out looking for magic users and not protecting anybody

-merlin, with his right hands gwaine, lancelot, and gwen run maxia as a safe place for everyone, and he creates a name for himself as lord maxia to protect his real identity

-arthur knows about maxia, obviously, but doesn’t have the forces to take it down

- during this time gwen and lancelot have this huge wedding, very magical, and very nature themed

- so arthur has most knights out around camelot, and morgana knows this, she joins forces with cenred and takes camelot with ease

-arthur, leon, percival, and elyan get out together

-percival suggests going to lord maxia for help, as he’s got quite a sizable force and has been kind to camelot in not attacking them

-arthur immedietly shuts him down 

-they camp outside of the city for about a week, a couple civilians find them and tell arthur whats happening in camelot

-morgana is starving the people and killing those who act up

-arthur still loves his people, more than he hates magic

-so he agrees to go to lord maxia

-arthur, leon, percival, and elyan set out with the few civilians; the knights are each secretly hoping to see merlin at camp maxia, arthur is secretly terrified of that happening

-they’re picked up by a maxia patrol and held in a makeshift cell until lord maxia accepts them into the camp, cause they’re wearing camelot stuff 

-merlin is told of a group from camelot in the cells and knowing of camelot’s state immedietly send gwen and lancelot to meet them

- they expect a few knights and prepare to ask how they can help take back camelot

-when they see its elyan, arthur, leon, and percival they have the civilians released and cared for and sit down to talk to them

-arthur wont look at them, so leon speaks, and talks about whats been happening

-gwen offers maxia’s help, and lancelot says that planning would be a lot easier if they weren’t in a cell, and asks if they want to be processed into camp maxia

-the processing entails a quick truth potion along the lines of veritiserum 

-leon says he couldnt speak for the whole group, so lancelot says its a personal choice

-percival volunteers first, and then the other knights agree to it as well

-arthur is silent, but livid

-the knights are processed, and meet merlin, and for a night they all have a meal together and its almost normal 

-in the morning, merlin goes to see arthur, except he conceals his identity

-they talk, arthur is bitter, merlin is cryptic

-after a few days arthur realizes that in order to help his people he needs to set his anger aside and is processed

-merlin, identity still hidden, administers the test

-under this truth potion, arthur is honest about his views on magic in ways he didnt even realise

-merlin keeps his identity hidden for the planning, much to everyone’s dismay, but they respect his decision

-an attack on camelot is planned

-arthur at this point is slowly trusting knights again, and gwaine, lancelot, and gwen

-they ride for camelot, with camp maxia’s army

-the knights, including lancelot and gwaine, are with arthur and merlin, who’s identity is still hidden

-gwen leads the medical group behind them

-the battle begins, fought by merlin’s men against cenred’s army

-morgana threatens to kill the imprisoned sorcerers 

-arthur and merlin, still hidden, fight their way to the throne room

-its just them and morgana and the sorcerers

-arthur is thrown by morgana into the sorcerers

-then its down to merlin to stop her

-so they fight, a big badass magical fight scene 

-merlins cover is blown, hes hurt, looks like hes losing

-arthur is flipping out because its merlin and he forgot how much he missed him

-merlin is about to be stabbed by a magical bolt from morgana and arthur just screams merlin’s name

-merlin hears this and needs to live so he can talk to arthur so he defeats morgana

-battles over, people are freed

-merlin is chilling on top of the castle when arthur comes up

-they talk, for a long long time

-when they come down, merlin is forgiven, but not trusted, and magic is now not illegal

-merlin is made the court sorcerer, lancelot and gwaine knights, and gwen is a lady too cause she’s married to lancelot

-the foursome is now part of the round table and camp maxia is disbanded, no longer needed, and becomes a city at the foot of the mountains

-the knights can protect villages now

-all is right, except merlin and arthur still have this great distance

-gaius retires and just chills in merlins tower

-one time he’s out doing something important and arthur breaks his leg in training

-hes brought to merlin, who very very quietly asks if he can heal arthur using magic

-arthur agrees, and he sees merlin use good magic for the first time ever 

-this breaks down a barrier

-arthur visits merlin and talks about matters of state

-eventually just his day

-and then he trusts merlin again

-they become best friends once more

-then one night at a ball, merlin is being flirted with by a very attractive knight

-arthur gets really possesive and jealus

-he grabs merlin’s arm and tugs him away, saying something about court matters

-he dragsmerlin back to his room, huffy and angry, not letting go of his arm

-merlin asks what they need to talk about, and he doesn’t get an answer

-next he asks gently whats wrong

-at this point they’re at arthur’s chambers

-there’s no gaurds, they’re at the ball

-he tugs merlin into his room and just glares at him

-merlin is confused and asked what he did wrong, scared to lose arthur again

-arthur just groans and looks away and mumbles something about nothing

-merlin walks over, puts his hand on arthurs back, and says: “well its clearly not, tell me whats going on.”

-arthur just stays quiet

-merlin persists: “arthur please dont shut me out like this”

-arthur suddenly pins merlin to the door

-he just growls, “dont flirt with him”

-merlin is very confused and kinda scared because hes always loved arthur but arthur definitely doesn’t never ever in a million years feel the same way

-he quietly says why not

-arthur just. stares at him. “are you serious?”

-”yes?”

-and arthur just does the whole possesive door kiss thing

-merlin got a light bulb

-a few months later they’re married

-merlin is crowned king

-the end

just, random idea thats been bouncing around. should it be a fic?

[powerof3in1]

Apocalypse Now; Journey Home [ I.]

   Chaos. That was really the only word coming to mind right now. News was spreading fast about the muggle world falling to pieces...succumbing to some kind of plague or something and the wizarding world was going mad over it. The Ministry was making announcements all over the place. A special evening Prophet was littering the streets along with terrified wizards and witches hurrying home to their families.

    Prue was at Hogwarts to help McGonagall with a secret task -- something that should have only lasted a few days--when the outbreak had started. The Headmistress put the school on immediate lockdown until further notice for the students until she figured out what was going on outside. She had asked Prue to help her contact the Ministry, given that Harry was still one of her best friends and if anyone would know what was happening, it would be him. She did try, but couldn’t get through at all...probably because everybody else had the same idea to contact the Ministry as well. She tried the Floo Network, hoping to get to Harry directly, but it was blocked. “Blocked?” The concern in Minerva’s voice was transparent as Prue told her about her failed attempts. “What is going on out there?” A rhetorical question, obviously, as Prue had no way of knowing the answer any more than she did. “I’m afraid...we may have to send the students home, Miss Halliwell. At least until this all gets sorted.” Prue nodded. The school may be the safest place for them during the year, but they had no idea what any of this was... Or where it came from or how to deal with it. It started with the Muggles but could it affect the Magical World too? It seemed possible if the Ministry was going to such great lengths to shut everything down.    Prue offered to assist with the Magical Creatures and calling the staff together so McGonagall could come up with a solid plan. As she made her way through the halls, the children were running about; some teary eyed, some terrified unable to get owls to their parents, and others believed it was all just a prank or just a Muggle thing that would never get to them so it was stupid to worry. Either way, Prue’s texts weren’t going through and she couldn’t get a signal to save her life. Maybe it was the castle...but she’d had no problems before. McGonagall made it so that Prue could still contact her family while she was there. She hastily shoved her phone in her pocket, upset with the lack of service as she was very much hoping to get ahold of her husband...and her mother. She rounded up the professors and sent them all to the Headmistress’ tower where they could discuss the situation further without young, nosy ears prying. Meanwhile, the witch made her way down to Hagrid’s, greeted by Fang and Merlin. She was quickly enveloped by the half-giant’s arms and a whirlwind of worried Hagrid mutterings she only half understood; things like, “-thoug’ yeh were gone already” and “was so werried, I was ready tuh chase yeh down myself, I was.” Prue patted her former guardian on the shoulder, unable to breathe well with the crushing weight of his large arms. “Still here...can’t breathe though...” “OH!” He set her down, holding on to her shoulders, apologizing profusely and how he forgets his own strength when he’s scared. --- The two discussed a plan of their own for the creatures, hoping to keep them as safe and as far away from any potential harm as possible. Prue kept checking her phone, but the signal was still undetectable. She sent several more messages hoping that at least one would send through eventually. She headed back to the castle to find McGonagall and update her on her and Hagrid’s plan and to ask if there was anything else she needed before she went home. She told the Headmistress about her phone, making Minerva seem more worried as she never disabled that privilege. Prue told her that she needed to go home that night, to check in and make sure her family was alright. Nobody knew if this thing was isolated or if it was spreading and how far... Minerva agreed and thanked Prue, told her that if she wasn’t able to return in the morning that it was okay and that she understood. Prue thanked her as well, assuring her that she would do everything she could to come back first thing. Heading to her personal chambers to pack the few things she’d brought, she orbed down to the Castle Grounds. Looking around one last time, she inhaled deeply before orbing home----or rather, attempting to orb home. It felt as though she’d hit a large concrete wall and bounced off like a fly off a light bulb. “What the f--” She landed on the ground hard as it repelled the witch straight back to where she started. “You must be joking,” she muttered as her eyes wandered over the grounds she’d literally just been on. She tried again but it ended the same way; Prue flat on the earth in front of the castle. A third attempt proved just as useless, hitting the ground even harder, rolling backwards this time down an incline. “Sonofa--!”She grunted in frustration and hit the grass with both of her hands in defeat. “Bloody bullshit.” She hoisted herself up off the grass, picking her bag up and headed back into the castle. Minerva was in the Great Hall now where the students were also piling in. “Professor!” Prue walked quickly to the professors’ table at the front of the Hall. “Professor..there’s a problem.” As she explained what happened with her inability to get home, she and McGonagall became increasingly more alert and terribly worried about this situation. Prue felt her nerves going haywire, her stomach in the tightest of knots as she fruitlessly checked her phone again. If she couldn’t get home... she really didn’t want to think about that. “I’m going to check the news,” she whispered to Minerva as all the students finally filed in to sit at their respective tables. She felt like she couldn’t breathe again, not knowing what was going on here let alone over in the States where her family was. She didn’t have any way of contacting them it seemed and no way of getting back.Even the Hogwarts express only went to King’s Cross and that would’ve been just as useless as her phone right now.     She could still orb though, which was good...it meant that it wasn’t a natural magical block so much as a wizard-made one. A wizard made one could be undone. She orbed into an ally in the city where people would be watching all the news stations at once. People were running about, screaming and running into each other, the drivers no better as she drove recklessly through the streets. Prue narrowly missed getting struck by a car as she stepped out of the ally, sidestepping just in time. “Asshole!” She shouted at the man who almost ran her down. Shaking her head, she hurried down the road to a front window display of telies where the local Muggle news was flashing emergency signals before anchors were advising people to get to their homes and stay there. Nobody was sure what was causing people to go mad..rabid? Apparently they were attacking other people. Biting and killing them. Prue’s stomach, already in knots, now convulsed as they showed footage of a ghastly looking man attacking another on the street, biting his shoulder and tackling him to the ground..but he didn’t stop there. He kept biting...gnawing on the man until police officers had pulled him off--to which he began attacking them too. Prue was staring at the screen intently when she was startled by a loud scream somewhere behind her. She jumped and turned around to see London police pinning a woman to the ground and another man on the ground holding his bleeding arm.

                       What. The. Fuck.     It was almost as if the scene she’d just watched on the telly had manifested on the street before her, except the person in question this time was a woman...she looked ill with sullen, grey skin and sunken, glazed over eyes. She was snarling at the police officers holding her down, snapping at them with gnarly teeth. The police officers tried to hold her but she was strong...thrusting and thrashing about, intent on biting anyone near her. “Bloody hell..” the words slipped from her mouth as someone grabbed her from behind. She spun around, ready to fight off one of those.... people, when a familiar face greeted her instead. “Ginny?” “Prue!” The two women, relieved to see one another, hugged the other tightly, exclamations of elation exchanged between them before Ginny pulled Prue off the street, into a small tea shop. “Ginny.. what in Merlin’s name is happening out there?” Ginny shook her head. “I don’t know, but..it’s bad. It hit the Muggles first but... we’re not immune to this, Prue. Whatever it is, it can get to us too. Everyone’s up in arms and the Ministry is up to its hat in paperwork and phone calls just trying to get a grip on it.” Prue’s eyes softened on the redhead, granted still full of concern. “I tried to get to Harry but the Floo system..” “It’s down, I know. Harry couldn’t get home and we couldn’t get to him either. It’s terrible. Everything is under lockdown. I suspect Dad is still there too..” “Dammit.. Isn’t there any way of getting in? The tunnels?” Again, a head shake from Ginny. “No, they sealed them off a few years back..reckon they didn’t want a repeat of the old days.” “Probably smart..”     The girls talked for a bit, each explaining their stories so far and their experiences. Prue told her about Hogwarts and McGonagall’s plan and Ginny told her how Mrs. Weasley was in absolute panic. “Do you think I could see her?” Prue asked, terribly upset herself but the thought of Molly in distress over half her family missing was rather unbearable. Molly was like another mother to her when she was young..to this day she still checked up on Prue just the same. “I suspect she’d love that very much.” Ginny smiled, taking Prue’s hand and apparating to the all too familiar Weasley residence. It still looked the same from the outside. Prue wasn’t surprised to see that it was still mainly the same on the inside as well. For a moment, she forgot about the scene she’d just saw on the street when that beautiful clock ticked to change Ginny’s location to HOME. “GINNY WEASLEY! YOU SAID NO MORE THAN HALF AN HOUR!! I WAS WORRIED SICK THAT SOMETHING MIGHT’VE HAPPENED OUT--” She stopped frozen stiff when her eyes landed on Prue, immediately welling with tears. “Prue, dear, sweet Merlin..” she stuttered a bit as she spoke, approaching the younger with with open arms, enveloping her in a tight, motherly hug. “Oh, it’s so good to see you, dear! You had me worried too! I hadn’t heard from you in weeks and then this mess out there, dear me, it’s just awful. People are stuck at work and at home...The Prophet put out an emergency issue.” She was still talking and hugging Prue, which was honestly welcome as Prue returned the hug. She missed Molly and it was good to see her, especially now. “I’m glad you’re alright. I saw something today...It’s bad out there, Molly...really bad.” She didn’t want to scare the woman, but she wasn’t about to sugarcoat anything right now either. Not after witnessing what she’d seen. “I want to try to get into the Ministry...I’ve done it before. There must be a way to do it again.” “Darling girl, always so brave... they’ve really stepped up on the security the last few years. Arthur has had trouble just getting through the doors lately, they’re being such sticklers.” Ginny nodded and they all sat down at the kitchen table. Molly used her wand to bring over the tea kettle and a basket of biscuits. “Mum’s been baking all day. She’s a bit stressed.” Prue chuckled softly, chest tightening as she thought about Piper and what she might be doing right now. Probably sending Leo to find out what the hell is going on if this mess is happening in the States too...she really hoped it wasn’t though. “Nothing wrong with stress baking. It’s a productive distraction.”     Her visit lasted for several hours, only two other family members able to make it home in that time. Molly insisted that Prue stay with them after telling them about her inability to get back home, but Prue explained that she was needed at Hogwarts to help McGonagall but she would definitely check in again with the Weasleys for as long as she was over here. Prue left slightly more worried than when she’d arrived, although relieved that several members of the family were still okay, the others were still unaccounted for--including Arthur and Ron..and Harry. Two of those three might be at the Ministry, of course, but how safe was it there right now? If no one could get in, they most likely couldn’t get out either. It was madness. Nobody was handling this well, it seemed. With good reason but the execution lacked something to be desired for sure.

    Prue decided to stay off the streets of London now, instead taking a side trip to Hogsmeade for some supplies. It was close to Hogwarts, after all, and she didn’t feel like going into Diagon Ally this late. The Knockturns made their way about around this time and Prue had zero energy or desire to deal with them just now. Stopping in to see Rosmerta after grabbing a few necessities, Prue had a couple shots of fire whiskey and sank into a chair by the fire. She held her head in her hands, body shaking as she breathed deeply in a shallow attempt to calm herself. How the hell could this be happening? Whatever this even was? And how could nobody know? Someone had to know something. The news was useless as of the moment and so was the Prophet. It was all warning and speculation. Bullocks. Widespread fear propaganda. It always was. They overplayed everything to make the public dependent on them. It’s how the world worked. She sat back in the chair, running her hand through her hair and pulled a pack of herbal cigarettes from her bag. She lit one with the fire in front of her as an idea rose to the surface. Maybe she could still use the Floo Network to contact Danny...she’d only have to hope that he was near their fireplace. If she couldn’t use it to travel, maybe she could still use it to communicate. It was worth a shot, she supposed...It was her only shot really. She took a few hits from her cigarette before kneeling in front of the fire. She took a pinch of Floo powder and sprinkled it into the flames before chanting the spell and saying Danny’s name. Unfortunately, the fire reacted negatively, as it would whilst blocked and flew out at the witch instead. She ducked sideways but not before the flamed danced across her upper arm, leaving a nice burned patch and a hold in her shirt. “AGH FUCK!” She shouted, sitting against the bottom of the chair, holding her arm with her free hand. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” She stomped her heel on the floor, gripping her burned skin. She was starting to not feel it at all as her nerves took back over. She really was completely cut off from her family. Rosmerta came rushing over with a towel and some herbs. “Oi, love, you really made a mess of yourself tonight, haven’t ya?” Prue’s eyes closed, head rolled back to look up at the ceiling while the elder woman pressed the herbs and rag to her wound. She hissed in pain as they stung her sensitive skin. “Yeah...I guess.. I’m sorry Rosie, I thought.. I hoped that I could get hold of my husband..the Floo Network is down completely though, unfortunately and I’m blocked off from .. well, everything it seems.” Rosmerta gave her an understanding, yet sad look. She clearly didn’t know how to help beyond the burn and she felt bad for it. Prue told her not to feel bad, that she’d figure it out but it was really taking its toll on her today, not being able to contact her husband and daughter. Rosmerta gave her another shot of fire whiskey, with no bad pun intended, before she left for Hogwarts and suggested she go see Madame Pomphrey to heal the rest of her arm. She thanked her for her help and everything else...and to stay safe in the meantime. Rosmerta returned the wishes of safety and Prue orbed herself back to the school.     Prue entered the Great Hall, where the students had cleared out, presumably to start packing up their belongings. She didn’t know what the next day or so was going to hold..but she suspected it wasn’t going to be easy. She could guess, however, that it was going to be ridiculously, exasperatingly long... One thing she did know for certain was that she needed to find a way to contact Danny somehow...and if it meant breaking down that damn force field spell by bloody spell, she would get home to her family. No matter what.

to be contined....

[likehandlingroses]

Time Spent

Summary:  Shortly after the Battle of Hogwarts, George and Percy find themselves in the uncomfortable position of having to navigate the ice between them. (On Ao3 or below)

George scribbled out the sentence he’d been working on and tossed the parchment to the side--the third piece in a row. He’d always been rubbish at writing, and yet no one had considered that when they all insisted that of course he should speak at Fred’s memorial service.

If he was up for it, of course . Kid gloves, all the time now. Like he’d fall apart at the slightest touch. Him.

George hated being treated like he was broken, almost as much as he hated feeling broken.

A tap on the half-open door signalled Percy’s entrance. He’d been staying at home as well, since the battle, though George hardly saw him. According to Ginny, he stayed up in his room even more than George did.

“Only talks to Mum and Dad, really,” she’d told him. “Though I suppose when you’ve been away for so long, we start to look like a lot to take in at once.”

But Percy had always been that way. Mum and Dad’s favorite, their third pair of eyes. Of course he been eager to reestablish his position; clearly Mum had been just as eager to recruit him again: George supposed it was Percy’s turn to try and get him, to eat, judging by the plate of toast in his hand.

“Not hungry,” George said, hardly looking up.

“I’ll leave it, then,” Percy said, moving towards the bedside table that Fred had always used.

“I said I didn’t want it,” George snapped, looking up at Percy, who set the plate down anyway.

“You might later.”

“Because toast always is more appetizing after it’s gone cold.”

“Fine.” Percy’s voice carried a thinly veiled edge to it, and George scowled. He returned to his parchment, only to realize he’d scrambled up yet another sentence. It would take ages to copy it all out again.

“Damn it…” he murmured, reaching for another piece.

“What are you doing?” Percy asked from the doorway. The sharpness in his voice was gone, and though George’s first inclination was to tell Percy it was none of his business, he couldn’t bring himself to.

“Can I help?” Percy prompted, having clearly picked up on the reason for George’s project.

“Everyone has been trying since I was small, and I still can’t write for anything, so not likely,” George grumbled.

Percy considered the situation for a moment, then said:

“What if you talk it through, instead of writing it? I can copy it down for you, if you’d like.”

For reasons he didn’t quite understand, George shrugged and let Percy sit beside him. He didn’t especially want Percy to hear him struggle through what he wanted to say, but—he reasoned—Percy would hear the finished product either way, and if there was anyone who could make sure he didn’t go and make a fool of himself, it was Percy, who could turn a phrase better than anyone George knew.

Besides, Percy had offered to help in a voice wholly devoid of that cloying, half-whispered tone that George so hated. Positive reinforcement and all that, George supposed.

So he lay back onto his pillow, closed his eyes, and pretended he wasn’t talking to anyone in particular. In time, he forgot his insecurities and the words began to flow in earnest. It was easier, much easier, to sit back and let Percy fuss over the letters and punctuation and everything else. At one point, he even feared he was going too fast and apologized.

"No, I've gotten it,” Percy said.

But when George propped himself up on elbows and looked at the parchment, it seemed all Percy had managed were incomprehensible scribbles, nothing like the even, careful letters he'd always (with a kind of envy) recognized as Percy's.

"It's shorthand," Percy explained, seeing the puzzled look on George's face. "You go back and write it all out later, but when you've got to keep pace with someone talking...well, it's easier this way, you see."

"If you say so...where do you learn to do that, anyway?"

"I taught myself, third year.”

Of course he had. Percy wasn’t happy unless he was working his head off. "Merlin…as if you hadn't had enough to get on with."

"Well, it's like anything else,” Percy said, and George could sense lecture coming on. “You have to accept that it will slow you down before it’ll do any good. But once it becomes second nature, it's well worth the time spent...I'd never have gotten through NEWT-levels without it, especially History of Magic, with Binns rattling off dates by the second.”

In spite of himself, George smiled. It wasn’t so bad, Percy’s rambling. It had its charms, if you looked at it from the right angle. Perhaps he’d even missed it, after so many years of silence between them.

“You know, Penny didn't even take notes in that class?” Percy continued. “Just held it all in her head, same as Bill can. Photographic memory you know, I was always terribly jealous, but it's something you're born with.  I can't do it, not for the life of me, but shorthand works just as well, when it's all said and done, and then when I started taking dictation for…”

Percy turned red about the ears, and George’s stomach turned. How often had he fed his own anger and hurt by imagining how he’d make Percy squirm if he ever dared to show his face again? He could still remember how the thought had brought him a kind of twisted joy, though he now couldn’t imagine why.

“Well, it comes in handy for all sorts of things, anyway,” Percy murmured, and though he went to pick up his quill again, his hand was shaking.

“I reckon you’ll have an easier time with Kingsley,” George said, after a pause. “He’s always taking his time about things—careful with his words and all.”

Percy nodded, his fingers pressing against the shaft of the quill so tightly that his fingernails were turning white. He was afraid...of what? George didn’t want to think the answer was him, but there wasn’t anyone else around.

He didn’t need to be afraid, George wanted to say, but the words would have sounded strange, almost false. They weren’t the sort thing of thing George Weasley said to his brothers--any of them. But especially Percy. Percy the Prefect. Percy the Pinhead. Percy the Prat. Always a title, and often not a complimentary one.

He’d made Percy smaller, squeezed him so tightly into epithets and biting alliterations, that there wasn’t room for much else but fear. Tension. Tightening his fingers, his spine, his lips, his very speech...as if it would protect him.

And George hadn’t been able to read it, hadn’t comprehended what set his brother on edge, what made his words sharp and his eyes see past the top of George’s head.

Why hadn’t he? It was a feeling he knew well—the very same sense of shrinking into himself had happened to him every time Percy had rolled his shoulders back and looked at George as though he existed for the sheer purpose of causing trouble. How much had it hurt him to notice that, as they grew older, the only time Percy bothered to speak to him was to tell him he was doing something wrong?

Who had started it? Where had the diminishment begun, and why? George wasn’t sure; he couldn’t remember. Fred might have known—he remembered everything. Not words or facts, like Bill did. But images, moments...Fred noticed everything.

Had. He had noticed everything. Or perhaps he still did, somewhere. More than he ever had before. Maybe he even knew a way out of the tangle his two brothers had found themselves in—two emotionally graceless, clumsy boys, on unsteady ground.

So lay a stone.

“You should say something as well,” George said, suddenly. “At the...you should give a speech.”

To his surprise, the words only made Percy tense up further.

“I couldn’t,” he said, his voice strangled.

“Why not?”

“It’s not right,” Percy said. “Everyone knows what happened...with me, and I—”

“—oh, don’t be daft,” George said, sitting up properly. “No one who matters is going to care.”

“But people will care.” Percy’s voice, so warm and alive a moment ago, had turned stiff. “And those people will turn the whole thing into a circus.”

“Let them.”

Percy shook his head, and George felt an anger rising in his chest. What right did he have to be afraid, after everything that had happened?

“You think they’re not going to talk about all of us? That you’re the only one with a story the Prophet will try and sell? How entirely unoriginal of you.”

“I never said—”

“—you think I want to go up there and speak?” George’s voice was getting louder, and he knew his face was turning red. “George Weasley, missing an ear and missing his twin? You think they won’t dig into that bit of tragedy? Not that it’s a contest, but I’d imagine I’ll take top billing, don’t you think?”

Percy blinked. “I’m not suggesting—”

“—you don’t want anyone talking poorly about you, that’s what it is. Because somehow, you’ve managed to figure that Fred’s service is about you and your reputation,” George sneered. “How fucking big of you, to step down so you’re not a distraction.”

Percy stared down at the parchment, his lips set in a line that quivered ever so slightly, and George knew he’d gone too far. He shook his head, though he knew Percy couldn’t see him, was doing his best impression of a blind, mute, invisible entity.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” George murmured, finally.

“I shouldn’t have spent so long being such a poor excuse for a brother,” Percy said without hesitation, and with a force that made George sit up straighter. Percy looked at him then, with wide eyes.

“We should have gotten on...we could have gotten on,” he continued. “And I’m sorry we didn’t. That I didn’t do more.”

With an ease that he hadn’t known himself capable of, George forgave him in his heart. The words...they would take longer.

“Yeah, well, we were…” he shrugged. “I know we didn’t help it along much.”

That didn’t nearly cover it, but it was a start, anyway.

“It’s not them I’m worried about. Other people,” Percy said, after a pause, and it took George a moment to remember what they’d been talking about. “It's just...if I speak, it feels like pretending that I was here, and I wasn’t.”

“You were right there, Perce,” George said. “I know what happened—Ron told me.”

“That doesn’t change—”

“—he loved you, you know?” The words sat in the room, and Percy’s shoulders lost some of their tension. He was still afraid, but he understood.

“We’ll go up together, how’s that?” George said. “Give them a two for one photo, huh?”

He grinned, but Percy didn’t return the gesture. He seemed suddenly quite tired.

“It’ll be easier for me, too, not being alone,” George admitted. Percy looked at him, a new resolve in his eyes.

“If it’ll help…”

“—I’ve just said it would.”

Percy nodded, and George knew without asking that he’d be there.

[terriblelifechoices]

“For you and Galahad? I brought a fucking army. Half of MACUSA wanted to come.” OOO can we see this? MACUSA getting the news and getting all protective and bloodthirsty? how did percival react?

Hi Anon,

I am so, so sorry for how long it has taken me to answer this.  But I do have an answer!

Here we go.  This takes place just before this timestamp, in which Credence and Galahad are kidnapped by the leftover dregs of Grindelwald’s followers.

New York, May 1930

No one noticed house elves.  They were everywhere – went everywhere – and most people paid no more attention to them than they would have a postal pigeon.  Less, even, for a postal pigeon – depending on the time of day it had been sent and the markings it bore – might be carrying news of something interesting, while everyone always assumed that a house elf was out on the business of the family or the business he or she served, which was of no interest to the average wizard at all.

Graves had never been able to figure out if that casual disinterest was bigotry or ignorance or both.  It was stupid, no matter which way you looked at it.  House elves were intelligent beings, not fucking furniture.  They noticed things, and they talked to one another.  The MACUSA elves in the Woolworth Building were better than even a top-notch security system; they saw everything, and their gossip network was so fast Graves sometimes wondered whether or not house elves were all low-key Legilimens.

He’d never had cause to wonder about the house elves outside of the Woolworth Building, unless it was for a case.

Red popped into existence next to Graves’ desk.

“Shit!” said Graves.  His pen went skittering across the form he’d been signing.  He forced himself to lower his wand.  He’d drawn it reflexively; most Aurors tended to go for their wands when they were startled.  It was one of the reasons startling an Auror was such a terrible fucking idea in the first place.

His brain shifted from startled reflex to dread when he caught sight of Red’s grim expression.

Something was very wrong.  It occurred to Graves that he’d never seen Red leave his post before today – not once, in all the years they’d known each other.  For Red to do so now…

Well.  It didn’t bode well.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice clipped.

Red looked at him with wary eyes.  Graves didn’t realize until much later just what – who – Red was actually wary of.

“It’s Credence,” Red said, never one to mince words.  “And the young master.  They’ve been taken.”

*

Taken.

Graves felt the word slide between his ribs like a knife; the familiar feeling of being punched hard enough to knock the wind right out of him.  That was the funny thing about being stabbed.  You didn’t notice the pain at first: you only felt the blow.

The pain came later.  It always did.

Graves shoved it down.  He shoved everything down – all the rage, all the worry and the fear and the doubt.  He shoved it all behind doors made of ice and iron and slammed the doors shut.

“Tell me everything,” he said.

Red did.

A young house elf named Ash was the only witness.  Ash had been shopping for groceries at the little grocer’s shop halfway between St. Brigid’s Hospital and the Luminaria.  It supplied all of the Luminaria’s produce, so their stock was always top quality and fresh no matter what the season.  Most of the locals shopped there as a result.  It was Credence’s favorite grocer’s, whenever he was in the area.

That was where they’d taken him.  Credence’s shield charm hadn’t protected him, because his attackers hadn’t used magic.  Ash had seen someone hit Credence in the back of the head.  The kidnapper had Apparated Credence and Galahad away while Credence was still stunned from the blow.  Ash had been out on his master’s business, and he hadn’t been able to follow.

“Is Ash likely to catch trouble for speaking to us?” Graves asked.

Red snorted.  “There’s no us, now is there?” he retorted.  “Ain’t like he’s speaking to youse.”

“You’re as much MACUSA as I am,” Graves said.  “Moreso, even.  You’ve served it for far longer.”

Red smiled at him, jagged as a knife wound.  “Ash’s master won’t see it that way.  Most wizards don’t.”

“Would Ash be happier as a MACUSA elf?” Graves asked.  “Or does he need a family?”  Some elves did.  There was no shame in it.  There was no shame in anything a house elf did; only in what the wizards they served chose to do with that service.  There was no honor in hurting a sentient being who couldn’t fight back.

Red hesitated.  “A family,” he said.  “If it was a good one.”

“I’ll see to it personally,” said Graves.  “My word as a Graves on it.”

Red nodded.  “I’ll put the word out,” he said.  “My people might be able to turn something up.”

“Thank you,” Graves said softly.

Red Disapparated.  Graves stalked out of his office and into the bullpen.

Hughes took one look at his expression and fell silent.  Her hand went to the hilt of her redwood wand, waiting for him to tell her where to point it.  Goldstein turned around when Hughes cut herself off in mid-sentence, and whatever she saw in his face made her eyes go as black and sharp as obsidian.  All of the good humor drained from Collins’ face, replaced by something intent and dangerous.

“What happened?” Summersea asked, drawn out of his office by the quiet.

The bullpen was never quiet.  There were always cases to review, suspects to be processed, a thousand different things that kept the Auror department running.  It was quiet now, breathless and braced for a blow.

“Approximately one hour ago, an unidentified suspect kidnapped a father and his young son on the street in front of the grocers on Westin,” Graves said.  “The suspect Apparted his victims away.  Their location is currently unknown.”

Goldstein’s hands were white knuckled fists.  She tilted her chin up, braced for the blow but still defiant.  “Who were the victims?” she asked.

She really was magnificent.  Goldstein wasn’t afraid to face the hard truths.  No one on his team was, but Goldstein was the only one who habitually went looking for them.

Graves thought, if he had a daughter, he’d want her to be like Goldstein.

The urge to panic rose up again.  They’d started trying for another baby three months ago.  Graves wasn’t especially bothered by the lack of conception; trying for one was fun, and they had time.

Merlin and Morgana and magic itself willing, they’d still have time.

Please, Graves prayed, to no one in particular.  Please let us still have time.

Graves had wanted a daughter this time.  He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, not even Credence.  But he wanted a little girl like Sammy Collins, like his niece Gwen and like Goldstein.

He couldn’t think of that hypothetical child now.  Not when his son was missing.

“Sir?” Goldstein asked, a thread of fear in her voice.

Don’t frighten the rookie, Graves reminded himself.  Nevermind that Goldstein hadn’t been the rookie in over two years now.  She was as capable an Auror as anyone else on his team.  Moreso, in some ways.

“Credence and Galahad Graves,” he said, taking care to keep his voice calm and controlled.

Goldstein sucked in a sharp breath.  Bracing for the blow had done nothing to lessen the pain when it finally landed.  She ducked her head, instinctively drawing back to shield herself.  Her wand hand twitched in an abortive movement.  Graves thought she might have been reaching for him, although he couldn’t tell if she meant to seek comfort or to give it.  Maybe both.

If the bullpen had been quiet before, that was nothing to the silence now.  The hush crept through the room like a dementor, leaving nothing but fear and pain and the absence of sound in its wake.

Credence and Galahad Graves.

No one spoke, but Graves heard them nonetheless.

Kidnapped.  Someone kidnapped Credence and Galahad.

Someone kidnapped the Director’s family.

Credence and Galahad.

Someone hurt one of our own.

Goldstein looked up, her eyes gone dark and fey and angry.  She looked so very much like Credence in that moment, his sister in truth despite their lack of shared blood.  Graves loosened his control on his magic, let them feel his rage and the promise of blood.  He looked around the room, at his team: his Aurors.

His people.

Graves had spent his entire life standing between his people and anything that meant them harm.  Credence had spent his career trying to build a better world for them to live in.  Neither of them did it with the expectation of reciprocity, but he could see that all the blood and sweat and sleepless nights had not been in vain.  Loyalty could not be asked for, only given.

How foolish he’d been, to think of them as his people and forget that he was theirs in return.

Graves bowed his head, humbled.  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Credence and Galahad needed him to be an Auror, not a panicked husband or father.  They needed him to be the Director of Magical Security.

“Someone has taken my family,” Graves said into that terrible silence.  “I need your help to get them back.”

[suzie-guru]

Suzie’s Decidedly Non-Coherent Thoughts Regarding Trollhunters Season 3.

OKAY.  

So I fully acknowledge I’ve been putting this off, but to be fair to myself, I am still in the midst of some pretty intensive training for this job, and also...

THERE WAS A LOT TO PROCESS WITH THIS SEASON. 

LIKE, A LOT. 

So this post will honestly be a hodgepodge of all sorts of things, and I’m pretty damn sure it won’t be the least bit coherent, but...I made a promise to y’all. 

By far and away, A House Divided was my favorite episode, and that’s really fucking saying something because this Season was RICH with good episodes. I said it once and I’m saying it again, A House Divided is peak Trollhunters - I was breathless and shaking from the power and emotion of that ending scene. Trollhunters is a great show all around, but when it’s when it stops and allows the emotional weight and poignancy of Jim’s journey, all of the sacrifices he has made, to set in and gives its due course...it’s heartbreaking and it’s magnificent and so incredibly powerful. 

Jim’s journey has never been an easy one, but episode hit me like a hammer to the heart - he can’t come back from this. His human life is effectively over. He’s giving up so much, so incredibly much, and he keeps on choosing to answer the call, give himself over again and again and again. This episode brought this all home, and my God, it was heart-wrenching. 

I will admit, I was at first puzzled and a little upset that after everyone saying that it was Jim’s humanity that made him such a strong Trollhunter, suddenly that wasn’t enough. It felt like such a slap in the face. But if there’s one thing about Trollhunters that stays strong, it’s the theme of sacrifice. Jim sacrificing his right to have a normal life to be the Trollhunter the world needs, Draal sacrificing his arrogance and dreams to be the protector and friend of the Trollhunter, Strickler sacrificing his desire for power to be worthy of Barbara’s love and Jim’s trust...

Sacrifice isn’t easy. It hurts a hell of a lot at times. And that’s what makes Jim such an incredible hero. When all the pieces are down, he chooses to be selfless, to put the world above himself. He ends the life he wants to have the life that will save others. I can’t even put into words what that does to me...

Phew. Okay. Deeeeeep breath, Suzanne, and collect thyself. Now onto other things...

All the above being said, Merlin is a dick. Look, I get it - he sees the bigger picture, he cares but he has to look at what needs to be done. I understand that angle. But he’s still a fucking dick. And I’m not only thinking about how he manipulates treats Jim. 

Yeah, I’m thinking about Strickler. 

Who Merlin dismisses as Changeling before walking away...

Sure, Walter was groveling to him at that moment, but...Jesus Christ, you musty magic man. Yes, absolutely, look down like everyone else does upon the race that your goddamned pupil created - hell, you probably look down on them BECAUSE your goddamn pupil created them. Don’t stop to think about they had no choice in the matter, don’t stop to think about how YOU’VE could have helped them and turned them away from Morgana if you had stepped up and set an example of acceptance that other trolls could have followed. Dismiss them just like everyone else does. Let your own bitter disappointment about Morgana color your feelings to them. JERK. 

ALSO. YOU WANTED A “CHAMPION WITH A FOOT IN BOTH WORLDS”!?! GOSH, I DON’T KNOW, MAYBE A FUCKING CHANGELING CHAMPION WOULD HAVE BEEN A BETTER SOLUTION THAN A POOR TEENAGER WHO JUST WANTS TO LIVE HIS LIFE AND LOVE HIS MOM AND COOK GREAT FOOD AND RIDE HIS VESPA. JUST AN IDEA, JACKASS. 

Look, fuck Merlin. Just fuck him. Jim deserves to be a champion of someone SO much better. Merlin and Morgana are both using their champions as pawns although, to Merlin’s credit, he makes a point of opening Jim’s eyes and making it about Jim’s choice. But yeah, I’m gonna write a very cathartic fanfic featuring Barbara Lake giving Merlin all kinds of hell in regards to his gross negligence over the whole changeling thing...

Okay, what else...what could I possibly be missing...

Oh yeah!

STRICKLAKE. 

Man, I was one happy camper this season after the decidedly dry spell of Season Two. And by “happy camper” I mean gloriously tortured, but I figured you would gather that. 

So many good things, so many gorgeous scenes! Walter on gravesand being brought back by his love for Barbara, his UTTER NERDNESS nervousness and psyching himself up with French (THIS FUCKING DORK) to talk to her again, Barbara being a MAJOR FUCKING ARTIST (MY GIRL IS SO TALENTED) and trying to cope with Walter running off, Walt being tempted by Morgana!Barbara (oh my god my son my son be strong my son but at the same time THIS SHIT IS ALL THE FLAVORS OF MY JAM)

AND THEN THAT SCENE IN THE MUSEUM?!

(HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT WE GOT A MOONLIT FLIGHT MY STRANGE MAGIC HEART WAS QUAKING WITH JOY AND I MAY HAVE MURMURED “THE MOONLIGHT IS PERFECT RIGHT NOW”, DON’T JUDGE MEEEEEE)

Okay, one big ass complaint though: 

WE DID NOT GET A SCENE BETWEEN WALTER AND BARBARA WHERE SHE LETS HIM KNOW SHE REMEMBERS EVERYTHING. 

...WTF?!?

On one hand, this is perfect fanfic fuel. 

On the other hand, WE WAS ROBBED. 

Also, did she just tell the other parents that he was in on everything? How on earth did that go down? I’M SO CURIOUS. 

THAT PLAY.  THOSE FUCKING DORKS. DICTATIOUS BEING ROPPED INTO IT AS WELL. THE FACT THAT WALTER ACTUALLY CHANGED INTO HIS TROLL FORM FOR IT. I’m super confused, did the other parents (aside from Barbara, obviously) think it was makeup or what? 

Meanwhile Walter’s just like “fuck it it might as well happen at least Barbara let me into her house I’ve sat through parent teacher conferences with these plebs before I can handle doing this rag-tag-ass play”

AND THEN!

Okay, I fucking CALLED Usurna pretending to be Barbara as soon as she pretended to cower next to Walter. BARBARA LAKE IS NOT ONE TO COWER, YOU STONY BITCH. 

“My life is not worth the world!”  “...It is to me.” 

*Regina: Stricklake*

*The Heart She’s Holding: Mine* 

then...

“May the world forgive me. For without you, there is no world!” 

I’M OKAY, I’M FINE, I SWEAR I’M FINE. 

Okay, what else...here’s a random run-down: 

THAT LAST FIGHT SCENE WAS STUNNING. Like, granted, the animation is always good, BUT HOLY HELL, THAT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL AND BREATHTAKING, EVERYTHING WAS CHOREOGRAPHED SO WELL. 

Walter FINALLY coming back to his rightful place of being Concerned Instructor/Father Figure to Jim. “Young Atlas, you are not alone! Don’t do this! Open the door!” 

(I was literally eating ice cream during this moment, this gif is all too real). 

STEVE AND ELI’S REACTION TO NOMURA WAS A BLESSING. LIKE, AN HONEST AND TRUE BLESSING. WE GOT THE SLOW MOTION AND MUSIC AND EVERYTHING. 

Oh fuck oH FUCK, I JUST THOUGHT ABOUT NOMURA’S REACTION TO FINDING OUT ABOUT DRAAL’S DEATH

OOOOOOOUUUUUUCH

Okay, enough pain...

(for now)

ANGOR REDEMPTION. WE HAVE BEEN BLESSED. 

So I had seen that Walter had wings in the concept art of the show, but I was under the impression that they had decided to forgo that. COLOR ME HAPPY WHEN IT TURNS OUT, NOPE, THEY DID NOT. 

So can Walter just decide he’s feeling more like his knife cape today? I wonder how that works...

(totally not planning a fanfic exploring this and Walter wrapping his wings around Barbara like a cocoon)

((totally not))

(((she lied)))

“I think these kitties are from a bad neighborhood” 

“B is for blender, fur ball.” BARBARA, MY SAVAGE SWEETHEART, FUCK ‘EM UP, FUCK ‘EM ALL UP, YES YES YES. 

So I have personally figured out how I would solve Walter being stuck in his Troll form in my own fanfics (WHICH I AM SO EXCITED TO WRITE, OH WOW) but I’m pretty darn sure that there are multiple other ways for us to work with that (glamour masks, potions, et cetera et cetera...) 

I’m pretty damn sure that Barbara and Walter AREN’T gonna be raising all those babies, but you never know. I personally like the idea of them seeking out adoption centers over the world (Walter knows them because of his work with the Janus Order), but then they decide to raise the REAL Strickler as their own. 

YES I HAVE A FANFIC PLANNED DO NOT JUDGE ME

And yes, I’m sure I am not alone in this, but I let out a soft sob when I saw that dedication to Anton. Rest In Peace, darling. 

What else...

Oh yeah:

Jim’s Troll form is hot. 

There, I’ve said it. 

So yeah, this is all just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to my emotions over this show, especially with the fact that it’s officially over. But yeah...what a beautiful and brilliant ride. I couldn’t have asked for me. 

...except an on-screen Stricklake kiss.

But that’s what fanfic is for. 

[doetonin]

homecoming pt. 6

a series | permatag: @marlenesmckinnonn

“Don’t go.”

Antonin’s hand held onto Doe’s as she sat up on the edge of the bed.

“I’ve gotta go to work.” she chuckled, picking up a shirt from the floor.

Antonin rolled closer to her and put his hands on her hips and tried pulling her closer.

“Ani!” she laughed, falling backwards on the bed as Antonin kissed her side.

“Don’t go today,” he murmured on her skin, “please.”

Doe turned her head and looked at him. This was her favorite version of Antonin- soft, sleepy, and happy.

“I have to.”

Antonin’s hand found her stomach and rubbed her skin.

“I’ll be home before long.”

“I know.”

Antonin usually had therapy while Dorcas was at work, but on days he didn’t he struggled to find ways to occupy his time and mind. He didn’t like a lot of things, and most of the things he did he only liked when Doe was with him.

He decided back when Dorcas started going back to work full time that he wanted to make up for the half a year he missed at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord first rose to power. So everyday for a few hours, Antonin would take Doe’s old textbooks and notebooks and sit down at the dining room table and review his charms, potions, transfigurations, and history. He always made sure to put everything back perfectly in its place so no one could tell how he spent his days.

Antonin also did his best to help around the house and take care of things so Doe didn’t have to. Whether that be organizing bills, making dinner, or tidying the house, he always tried to anticipate the needs of his tiny love. It wasn’t until one day when Antonin was going through the mail did he find a browned envelope with a style of handwriting that he hadn’t seen in years.

Antonin Dolohov

613 Willow Way

Esher, Surrey

He turned the letter over in disbelief, confirming the deep-gutted fear inside him when his eyes fell on the wax seal.

A jackalope, mid leap.

Antonin dropped the other parcels and sat on the sofa closest to him.

“How the fuck did she get my address.”

He hesitantly opened the letter with his forefinger and pulled out the parchment inside. As he unfolded it, his eyes were drawn to the elegant letterhead with the familiar jackalope seal and ribbon adorning the phrase Potentia pura, potentia metu.

Purity in power, power in fear.

“Shit.”

Antonin opened the letter fully and read the first line:

My dear son,

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath upon seeing his mother’s pen on the family’s signature parchment. Why was she writing? Why now? How did she know where he was living? Did she know he was with Dorcas? Did his father know she was writing to him?

Antonin didn’t have a great relationship with his mother, or his parents in general. He was an accident. And after Adelle died, neither of his parents could stand to look at him. His nanny always said they looked so similar.

Harriette Dolohov was a French woman with excellent taste, beauty, and the ability to get whatever she wanted. She was not known as a “kind” woman, but when you had status like she did, you didn’t have to be. She poured herself into her precious daughter, the spitting image of herself, so much so that there wasn’t much left for Antonin when he came along. Harriette loved her children, but it was clear to everyone who she loved more.

Her husband, on the other hand, was a completely different story. Evgeni Dolohov was a man of status, power, control, and fear. He commanded any room he walked into simply by entering it, and when he spoke, people listened. The Dolohovs descended from a long line of powerful, prominent, and pureblood Russian wizards and had great influence in the Durmstrang Institute as well as the Russian Consulate of Magic.

Evgeni was not a man who showed much emotion other than anger, displeasure, or indifference. The only times Antonin could recall him smiling were with his older sister, but after her death he saw nothing at all. It wasn’t a secret that he had no interest in his only son and held him in great disappointment and shame. He had hoped that as Antonin became older and followed in his family legacy as Death Eaters he could live up to the family name, but he only became more disdainful upon learning of his son escaping arrest and going into hiding.

When news broke of Antonin’s flee from the Ministry, his father was filled with a mixture of embarrassment and pride while his mother was filled with dread and worry that her last living child was in danger. After years of silence, the announcement of his arrest brought both relief and terror knowing that their son was alive, but was about to face a future worse than death in Azkaban.

Antonin read the short letter from his mother several times over before tossing it at the table. He ran his hands over his face and sighed. He didn’t want to deal with it, deal with them, not when everything was finally going well in his life. And what possessed his mother to write to him now, after all this time in silence? And he still didn’t know how she came to know of his address with Doe. All he knew is that his parents knew about his release, and that they knew about Dorcas.

Shit.

“Baby?”

Antonin’s head flew up from it’s resting place on the dining room table and he quickly waved his wand to put away the books and papers around him.

“‘m in here, Dorcas.” he shouted, dragging a hand over his face.

Doe walked in, coat still on and bag in hand, and smiled seeing his face.

“Hi honey,” she walked over to him and gave him a kiss, “everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond.

Dorcas set down her purse and shrugged off her coat, tossing it on the chair.

“You want me to make it better?” she suggested behind a sly smile. Doe sauntered closer to Antonin, sitting on his lap and draping her arms around his shoulders.

Antonin smiled slowly and slid his hands around her waist and hummed.

“Because I can do that for you,” she kissed below his ear and onto his neck, “if you want me to, Ani.”

“Mmm, Dorcas Rosemary you know all the right words, don’t you?”

“Merlin, Antonin why is the post all over the floor?”

Doe broke her route to the kitchen and toward the entryway, pulling her dressing gown tighter, and picked up the letters scattered on the floor.

She sifted through them as she moseyed on towards the couch, plopping herself on the cushions when her eyes caught the parchment on the coffee table.

“What’s tha’?”

Dorcas set down the letters and reached for the parchment as Antonin walked into the room.

“No!” he shouted.

Doe froze, and turned her head, “Why?”

He opened and shut his mouth without saying anything, suddenly at a loss for words.

Doe raised her eyebrows and Antonin sighed, “My mom.”

Her eyes widened, “Your- your mom? Your mom?”

He nodded.

“I… Should I burn this? Do you want me to toss it?”

“No, no, you don’t… no.” he said, slowly joining her on the sofa.

“Did you.. did you read it?”

Antonin nodded.

“What does she want?”

He sighed, closing his eyes and pinching his nose.

“She wants to have lunch.”

The Dolohov household was a grand estate with many elegant rooms for hosting parties and countless others that held gorgeous bed sets and fireplaces. They had two house elves, one that had worked for the Dolohovs for generations and the other that came with Harriette, in addition to the several household witches and wizards for tasks the house elves are unable to perform.

Antonin’s nanny, Dotty, was the closest thing he had to a friend growing up, that is until he met Amycus and Alecto when he was ten. She was hired when Adelle was born and remained up until Antonin came of age to attend Hogwarts. He wanted to cry watching Dotty leave, his confidant and closest friend, but waited until she left and was no longer near his father to do so. She had given him a stuffed bear as an infant that he always made sure was in his bed to sleep with. Antonin learned early on to hide it behind his pillows so his father wouldn’t see and take it away from him.

There was fear and power in the Dolohov name, and Evgeni made sure to carry on the tradition. Most people would say he had a heart of black ice and it was impossible to melt it, and they’d be right. After Adelle’s death he became more calloused and closed off than ever, something that directly showed in his marriage and his already strained relationship with his young son. Harriette did her best to bring slight softness to the family, but quickly learned it was easier and perhaps better off to keep things the way they were.

It had been years since Antonin returned to his family’s estate, several being summers and holidays he spent with Amycus (or at least saying he was with Amycus when he would sneak off to be with Doe) and the remaining being due to his persecution during the first war. It wasn’t until the warrant for his arrest was made public did his mother really start to worry. She had always carried the guilt of her poor and distant relationship with her son, but seeing his name and photograph plastered on every wall she passed caused her heart to ache in a way she hadn’t felt since Adelle left. Evgeni took Antonin’s arrest in stride, claiming that as long as his skin adorned the dark mark, he would be remembered as being on the right side of history.

Harriette spent years closely following any news of her son. She had bribed her way into finding out of his release, and payed a large sum to keep it out of the papers. She knew of his “reform therapy” with that blood-traitor doctor. She knew of his relationship with the half-blood, and how he lied for years about being involved with anything of the sort.

She knew, and she understood.

She knew the pain of sneaking around to be with the one your heart desired. She knew the pain of keeping appearances and secrets. She knew the disappointment and betrayal of a family to be with your one true love. She knew, because it was everything she did to be with Evgeni.

To an extent Evgeni also felt and related to that pain, although he would never admit it to others much less himself. He justified it by telling himself that she was also a pure blood, and that their bloodline would just become stronger.

Harriette had tracked down where Dorcas lived, where she worked, and even her family history. After all, if her son was risking their reputation for a half-blood, she had to make sure that she was worth it.

She did her research when her husband was out of the home, conducting it through the household staff to ensure that nothing would trace back to her directly, if anything should at all. Harriette read all about Doe, every aspect of her life that she could get her hands on. She had to make sure that she would treat her son right, the way he deserved. She had to.

It took her years to build up the courage to write to him. Would he receive it? Would he read it? Would he respond- and if he did, what would he say? After a night of wine and deep consideration, Harriette sat at her desk in her study and wrote. If she didn’t now, she never would.

The night after she sent the letter, she and Evgeni sat at their dining room table, eating dinner like they always did.

“I have some news.” she said, taking a sip of her wine.

“Is that so?” Evgeni replied, raising his eyes to look at his wife.

“I… I found Antonin.”

Evgeni stopped eating. Harriette stared at him nervously.

“You found Antonin?”

She bit her lip.

“Yes.”

They looked at each other, the tension thick in the air, and Evgeni began to cut up his food again.

“And where was he this time, eh? The woods in Siberia? St. Petersburg? Some fuck-off deserted town?”

“He’s in Surrey.”

He looked back up at her.

“With the Meadowes girl.”

His utensils fell out of his hands and she took another long sip.

“Excuse me?”

Harriette didn’t respond.

“Thomas Meadowes’ daughter? The fucking half-blood?” he boomed, standing abruptly. “My son….. with a fucking half-blood?!”

Evgeni dragged his hands over his face and began muttering in Russian.

“I’m going to see him.” she stated, “I wrote to him, and I want to see him.”

Evgeni stopped pacing and stared at his wife.

“No. No, no.”

“What do you mean, “no?””

“You’re not seeing him.”

“He is our son Evgeni-“

“NO SON OF MINE ASSOCIATES WITH HALF-BREEDS!”

His eyes were wild as he huffed from raising his voice. Harriette remained seated and glared back at her husband defiantly, tears pricking at her eyes.

“He… is the last thing we have, Evi.” her voice wavering as she slowly stood, “He is our son.”

Evgeni looked her in the eyes.

“I have no son.”

“W-What do you want to do, Ani?”

Antonin sat next to Dorcas on the couch and shook his head.

“Dunno.”

Doe reached out and held his hand.

“How do I know I can trust her? How do I know she means what she wrote- how do I know that she was the one who wrote this in the first place?”

He looked at the ground.

“It’s not a secret they didn’t like me, Doe, I just…”

“You don’t have to see her if you don’t want to, baby.”

“But… but what if she does mean it?” he whispered.

She tucked some hair behind his ear, “Then that’ll be a wonderful surprise.”

“Remember, we can go anytime you want to, okay baby?”

Dorcas smoothed Antonin’s shirt and placed a hand on his cheek.

He looked down at her and gave a soft smile.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

By the time Antonin and Dorcas showed up to the cafe, Harriette was already sitting quietly at a table in the corner. Seeing her, Antonin tensed for a moment and Doe rubbed his arm in support as they slowly approached her.

Harriette looked up from her tea to see her son, and his girl, approaching slowly. Her expression softened and her eyes welled with tears, her heart filled with surprise, relief, joy, and sorrow.

“Antonin.”

The melody of his name through her French accent filled his ears and brought back memories from when he was younger and didn’t have to worry about earning his parents’ love and affection.

“Mamon.”

Doe took a slight step back as she placed a hand on his back, offering silent and soft support as his mother rose from her seat and took the few steps in front of Antonin. She hesitantly put her hands on his arms, taking him in.

He was skinnier than she remembered, taller too, but still had the same striking eyes as his father and the soft lips of his sister.

Harriette very slowly, cautiously, placed a hand to the side of his face, stroking his hair back. She flashed a nervous smile, turning into a more genuine one the more she looked at him.

“You haven’t called me that in so long, mon petit garçon.”

Antonin offered an awkward smile in return.

“You haven’t called me that in so long.”

He looked at his mom. She looked the same- same curly hair, same fancy outfits, same green eyes that mirrored his own. There was something different he saw in her eyes, an affection that was unfamiliar to him. Antonin felt Doe lightly scratch his back in support and reached for her at his side.

“Mamon, this is… this is Doe.”

Dorcas threaded her hand in his and stepped forward. She’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t a little scared. She knew all about the Dolohovs and she knew how emotionally distant it made Antonin. Looking at his mother stirred up an anger deep inside her. She wanted to punch her. She wanted to scream at her. She wanted to tell her off for everything that she did to Antonin.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she offered a small smile, “Mrs. Dolohov.”

They awkwardly exchanged greetings and sat down.

“Antonin… I have much to tell you.”

They sat for a long time. They talked for a long time. Things weren’t better… but it was a start.

“Does Evgeni know you’re here?”

Dorcas tensed at the mention of his fathers name.

“Yes.” Harriette answered, taking a sip of tea. “Your father knows knows I am here with you.”

Antonin’s jaw clenched.

“Oh Antonin,” she started, “don’t do that with your face you look just like your father.”

“I do not.”

Doe looked at the both of them. Since when did Antonin know French?

Harriette looked at the two of them, sitting in front of her, hand in hand. How could she hate her son for being in love? She had spent so much of his life not caring for him the way she should have. She was tired of the distance between her and her son. Times were changing, and maybe she was starting to see things differently than her husband.

“I must go.” she said, setting her tea down and rising from her seat, “Au revoir mon gentil fils.”

Antonin and Doe stood as Harriette kissed his cheek, whispered something into his ear, and turned to Doe.

“Dorcas,” Harriette reached for her hands before pulling her close and whispering, “thank you for taking care of my Antonin.”

She kissed her cheek and Dorcas looked back at her in a mixture of confusion and newfound… satisfaction?

Harriette looked at Antonin one last time, placing a hand on his cheek.

“I’ve missed you, mon fils.”

He offered a small smile.

“Be good.”

��Adieu Mamon.”

Harriette turned and walked out of the building before apparating.

Dorcas squeezes his hand and looked up at him.

“I am so proud of you.”

Antonin looked down at her, “Let’s go home.”

The couple arrived home and Antonin fell into the living room chair.

“I’m proud of you.” Doe whispered, kissing his cheek.

“Certainly not as bad as I thought she’d be.”

She walked to the entry to hang up her coat.

“When did you learn French, Ani?”

“She made us learn it,” he said, pinching his nose, “wanted to be able to be fluent for both sides of the family.”

Doe poked her head in the room.

“Really?

He opened his eyes, “Yeah.”

She strolled into the room.

“What did she say?”

“What do you mean?” “When we were leaving, she whispered something to you in French.”

He looked at her, “Don’t worry about it.”

Doe furrowed her eyebrows and put her hands on her hips.

“Well… I’m gonna give you some time alone, okay? Decompress.”

She turned around and started down the hall.

Antonin jumped from his seat, “Marry me.”

Dorcas stopped walking and turned around, her eyes growing wide.

“Wh- What?”

He strode toward her and cupped her face, breath ragged as adrenaline ran through his veins.

“Dorcas Meadowes fucking marry me.”

Her eyes became glassy, “Right now?” she half chuckled.

“Right fucking now.”

“Really?” she smiled, a few tears spilling over.

“I’ve waited 12 years to ask you this, not wasting time anymore.”

He flashed a quick smile as his hands still held her face.

“I’m not dressed well-“

“Dorcas I’d marry you in a trash bag in the middle of the Black Lake.”

She laughed a bit.

“You gonna answer me or do you like leaving me hanging like this, eh?”

“Okay.”

“Thank fucking Merlin.”

He kissed her sweetly, “Let’s go.”

Dorcas and Antonin apparated back from the Ministry in a fit of giggles.

“We’re married.”

“We’re married!”

Antonin picked Doe up and threw her on their bed.

“Hey!” she squealed.

He climbed up next to her and kissed her on the nose.

“What about our honeymoon, husband?” she teased.

“It’s called our bedroom,” he said biting at her neck, “and only our bedroom for three days- wife.”

She laughed at that, “What about your boyfriend? Don’t you think he’ll get nervous not hearing from his man candy?”

“Amycus can get in line,” he grunted as he lifted Doe up and pulled her legs around his waist, “think they’ll be able to hear us just fine, though.”

“I’ll get you a ring, Doe.”

She looked up at him, “I know, honey.”

“I’m gonna. But… we have to keep this quiet. I want to keep you safe.”

Doe smiled, “I know.”

Antonin brushed some hair out of her face.

“Suis ton coeur, Antonin, où que cela te mène.”

“What?” she giggled.

“What my mom said,” he said, “‘Follow your heart, Antonin, wherever it leads you.’”

Doe intertwined their fingers and looked into his green eyes.

“I love you.” she whispered.

“I love you.” he whispered back.

[aliceslantern]

Nocturnal Memory, a Kingdom Hearts fanfiction, chapter 20

[Summary:  Dying takes a lot out of you, it's true, but when Demyx wakes up for the first time since his fight with Sora nothing's right. His memories are fragmented and he's missing his true name. And he's not the only one. An incomprehensible mystery and an inevitable war make him question what, exactly, he would do to become whole, and reclaim the music lost to him.

on FF.net/on AO3]

Later that next afternoon, Yuffie showed up at the castle.

It was strange to see her there. She just walked right into the hall where they all lived, like it was her home too. He'd been sitting on the one cool spot of his bedroom floor, staring at the piano book while his eyes slowly slipped out of focus. The thought of the uneaten toast on the plate next to him made him feel sick. A weak, hot draft came through the open door, and he wiped at the sweat on the back of his neck. Her heavy footsteps startled him out of the dumb reverie.

"Oh hey," she said. She was slightly breathless.

"Uh… hi? Can I help you?" He was suddenly conscious of the fact that he was wearing only underwear and a thin T-shirt.

"Nice legs," she said.

Demyx's face burned. "I wasn't exactly expecting company." He grabbed a pair of jeans from the chair near the bed and pulled them on.

"Merlin wants to see you," she said. "I was downstairs anyway and figured I'd pass on the word. Have you seen Lea?"

"…Not in a few days." He strapped on the holster for the dagger. "Ienzo said he had something to do. Some kind of mission. I don't really know."

"He was supposed to have been back by now." She frowned.

His hair looked awful but there wasn't much he could do about it. "What did you need from him?"

"I wanted him to check on Sora."

He wondered how long it would take before Sora's name stopped giving him stabs of anxiety. "…Oh."

"I thought you two were okay, after the whole weird light thing?"

Demyx sighed. "Sure, I can stand being in the same room with the guy, but we're not friends."

She considered this and wrinkled her nose. "Let's get going," she said.

"You're coming with me?"

"I want to see what he'll do," she said. "He wanted to see you separate, and I was like… that's cool."

Despite the heat, the sweat under his arms was cold.

"Relax, if it makes you so uncomfortable, I'll go." She shrugged.

They set off towards Merlin's house. The day was impossibly hot. Demyx had never been one for the summer—maybe due to growing up in a desert and knowing there was something better-but now without full control of his powers, he felt it doubly hard. It was like the sun was hitting him down to his core. Sweat crawled along his skin and he hoped he didn't smell. "…How can you stand being out here all day?"

"Got to," Yuffie said. He noticed patches of bright pink sunburn all over her body. "I kind of like it. I dunno. Except for the blistering. That's… yuck. It sucks that nobody can go outside at night, though. When I was a kid everyone used to just sleep through the day, and party at night. We had a whole solstice festival around this time of year. Aerith talked about having one, but it would be too dangerous, you know?"

"…Festival?" Xigbar flashed through his mind's eye.

"It was pretty great," she said. "The adults would get hammered and we'd basically just eat and eat. But shit's pretty scarce right now. That was back before the drought."

"…Drought?"

"It comes and goes in cycles," she said. "I mean, there's always the off chance that something got fucked when the world came out of darkness. But we'll be okay."

"If you say so." He pushed away a nasty memory of bitter thirst as a child. He was too familiar with droughts, the way they twisted and wrung out everything, how everyone always would go on and on about how today was the day it would break.

Town was quiet. A few kids sat listlessly in the shade, unable to play. Even the few Heartless they encountered skittered away like bugs, only to get caught and vaporized in the claymore system. "Better for us," Yuffie said. "You haven't seen real action, have you?"

"No. I don't think I can."

"Oh, please. Even kids can take on little Shadows. If you want to fight, you have to start somewhere." She dangled her shuriken at her side.

"…I suppose." His heart beat harshly and he tried to swallow down the anxiety. They turned the corner towards Merlin's house.

"…Here we are," she said. "You alright?"

"Uh. Yeah. I guess."

She put her hand on her hip. "He's not going to hurt you. I promise. Talk at you, maybe. Which is kind of painful. I'm guessing that means you don't want me around."

On one hand, it might be comforting to have someone impartial there. On the other, it was her. "I…"

"It's okay. I'm not offended." She shrugged. "What are you doing later? Figure you might want to get out of the house for a little bit."

More than anything else, that caught him off guard. "Oh. Uh. Nothing, I guess."

"Come by my house when you're done," she said. "Looks like I've got to get back to the grindstone." She waved and ran off.

His hand shook when he knocked on the door. A voice bade him come in. He took a deep breath and went inside. The room was blissfully cool and startlingly dark; it took his eyes a moment to adjust. A single lamp burned in the corner of the room.

"Oh, good. You're here," Merlin said. "Please, come and sit." He gestured to a pair of chintz chairs by the lamp.

"Nice AC you got," he said lamely.

"I figure there's no point to suffering indefinitely," Merlin said. "All it really is is a Blizzard spell. Quite simple."

He walked over to the chair and found his knees had gone weak.

"No need to be nervous," the wizard continued. He poured two cups of what looked like iced tea and brought one to Demyx. "I just want to have a look at you." He sat down and drank for a few minutes.

"…Where were you for so long?" Demyx asked him. The tea was strong and bitter, but it was cold, so he drank it anyway.

"I have any number of things that need doing," he said. "Most of my time, however, has gone into training the new Keyblade wielders."

"But you're not one yourself?" Demyx looked at the slim bone-colored wand on the table.

"Heavens, no. I have no desire to be one. But… there's a certain theory that can be taught relatively easily. Most of our efforts go into making the wielder worthy. Quite interesting. Quite ancient, the magic, anyway. Lea, now… it took Lea the equivalent of months before he earned his."

"I'm still surprised," he said.

"As am I. But he seems to have redeemed himself, however unlikely it seems. The same goes for you, and the others."

He looked down into the cup. He couldn't tell if nerves or the caffeine were making him jittery.

Merlin set down his tea and came to stand closer to him. "Can I have a look? Turn a bit closer to the light. My eyes aren't as good as they used to be." Merlin's hands were cool and papery against Demyx's chin. Much like Even, he asked him to look left and right. "Yes. Yes. Quite."

"What do you see?"

"I'm sure you know the damage is quite extensive," Merlin said. He sat down. "Not immediately life-threatening, but still, something that could be perhaps triggered appropriately."

He was shaking too hard and had to set the glass down. "Appropriately?" He repeated.

"Surely it's come to mind that any alterations made to you and the others were probably done to benefit him?"

"Well… sure. That's why I volunteered myself to work."

Merlin laced his fingers. "And the memories?" He asked. "Have any come back?"

"Some," he said. "Nothing… very early. It's mostly been memories surrounding my reformation and my turning. And a very little about how I used to live when I was human."

"How odd," he said. "Yes. Why the cutoff?"

He shrugged.

"And have you tried using the dark corridors since then?"

"No," he said. "I'm scared to."

"Probably for the best. You never know what darkness might do. But your other powers are returning?"

"Slowly. Yes. I still can't summon a weapon, though."

Merlin thought for so long that Demyx was starting to get restless. "They seem to want you for something," he said at last.

"I know, I know." He tried to breathe. "Can you fix it?"

Silence. Demyx could hear the clock ticking in the other corner of the room. "I had… thought so, but I hadn't realized just how deep the damage ran. Doing so would take enormous power," he said. "Not to mention, delicacy and precision. If one were to make a wrong move, your heart would shatter entirely."

"…So I would become a Nobody again," he said desperately. "And grow another heart."

"No. Not quite." Merlin stroked his beard. "It's different when a heart falls to darkness. The heart is still whole, but consumed, which allows it to become a Heartless. The heart has been cleanly removed from the body and will. When a heart shatters, however, fragments still remain behind, and the body and will still cling to them. It's horrible. A comatose state."

Even and Ienzo had told him this, but he had hoped— His vision was getting blurry.

"It already looks like there has been some recent interference," Merlin continued. "I'd say it's best to leave you as is, and hopes the damage heals over time. If your power is returning, I'd say it's possible."

"What about Sora's light?" Demyx asked. "It hit me when we went to the lab."

"It's kept the damage from worsening on its own," Merlin said. "But the child… is still mostly untrained. Even a skilled practitioner of light would be largely unable to heal it all."

"Even and Ienzo said that the trauma from the memories could make it worse," he said.

"They are correct in that regard," Merlin said. "But we're so far into the realm of probability and mysticism that it's hard to say. I say that if you've survived remembering some of the most traumatic instances of your life, you will probably be fine."

That didn't make him feel better.

"Mostly… what should concern us is that they might use this to their advantage. If they break you… they could take your body and make you a vessel. If your heart is shattered there's nothing left to fight back, or rebel. Xehanort learned from last time."

"I thought they had enough vessels for him," Demyx said.

"It might not be Xehanort's heart they seek to put in you. I can't say with certainty what they would use you for instead."

This was all stuff he'd sort of already known. But hearing it from Merlin, definitively, that there was no way to fix him, made him feel sick. He was glad he hadn't really eaten.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said. "Short of putting you in a temporal pocket and waiting to see what happens, there's nothing I can do for you."

"It's fine," he said. His voice trembled.

"You can still live a full life," Merlin continued.

Demyx laughed. "I don't even know my name."

Merlin smiled sadly. "I'll convene with Yen Sid and see what else he may know," he said. "And not to be arrogant… but if I don't know how to help you, I doubt he will."

"I understand. I, um, should go. Thanks for the tea."

"Anytime, my dear boy. Feel free to visit. Heaven knows my door's always open."

He was still shaking when he got to Yuffie and Aerith's. He wondered if he should go back—at least to react in private—but maybe distraction was what he needed. The sun was already setting, and although it provided some relief, he couldn't stay very long.

Inside the house, it was cool and quiet. The energy in the room was dull. Aerith rested her head on the wooden table, a glass of water in one hand. Yuffie sat reading a comic book that looked as old as she was. Its pages were yellowing and disintegrating.

"I'm afraid it's not exactly the party I thought it would be," Yuffie said. "These grumps all decided they needed naps."

"We're conserving our energy," Aerith said to the table. "You should be, too."

"It's too boring. Come on. I've been inside all day. Let's get some air. Wait," she said, before he could get in a word edgewise. "Let me get something." She disappeared into the one of the two tiny bedrooms and came back with a canvas knapsack.

"Where are we going?" He was tired and didn't feel like walking much more.

"You'll see," she said. She crossed behind the house and scrambled up a narrow ledge onto the roof.

"Very adventurous," he said. He followed her up. The roof had stone shingles which hurt his hands. She sat on a precipice next to the chimney, watching the sunset.

They had never spent any time together, alone, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. While the anger had faded into belligerent friendship, he still didn't know what to say to her, and wasn't sure he had the energy to try.

She slipped a glass bottle out of the knapsack. It was full of a clear liquid he was positive wasn't water. She kicked back and took a sip. "Wanna come sit down?"

"Don't you have patrol later?"

"Squall does. I'm off tonight." She shook the bottle vaguely. "Turn up, am I right?" She offered it out to him.

He laughed weakly and took the bottle from her; it was surprisingly heavy. He tasted it and flinched at the burn that echoed up into his nose. "What is it with you and Lea drinking straight grain alcohol?"

She shrugged. "Please. It was only recently that some idiot built a still. You don't have to drink it."

"No. Now it's a challenge."

For a few moments they passed the bottle back and forth in silence. He already felt his head getting light.

"…So no luck," Yuffie said at last.

"You mean—oh." Demyx tried to keep from treading in that part of his mind, and took a longer swallow from the bottle.

"I'm sorry," she said. Her legs swayed back and forth. "For what it's worth."

"I shouldn't have let myself think he could do anything," he said. The scrawl of emotion hovered closely overhead; he wondered if he should stop drinking.

"I really thought he could," she said. Her face was already flushed.

"Why do you care?" he asked.

She took a drink.

"I mean, you hated me," he said. He was beginning to ramble, and his body felt faintly heavy.

"I don't hate you anymore," she said, and handed the bottle back.

When he drank, the fumes brought tears to his eyes. He shut them for a moment.

"It's lonely here, I guess," she continued.

"I know what you mean." Something akin to that Nobody void was opening up inside of him. There was no fixing this, no perfect cure, just… this horrible numbness, forever. It was almost unbearable.

She kept talking. "I'm alone, most of the time. And I don't always mind, you know, but day after day… doing the same things… I love my town, I'll do what it needs, but still. Still."

"It gets boring." He was starting to get dizzy and couldn't tell whether or not it felt pleasant.

"It gets so boring," she said.

He lie down and shut his eyes. The night air was heavy and cool against his skin, even though the shingles were sharp against his back. He heard the soft tink as she set down the bottle and lay down as well.

"Drunk already?" She asked.

He hummed vaguely.

"Me too. You're right. This shit sucks. Works way too fast."

He opened his eyes. The stars, less numerous than ever, shone weakly through the haze of clouds. He could just barely see her profile in the darkness. She shifted slightly; he figured she was trying to get more comfortable on the shingles.

He felt the warmth of her skin before he realized what was happening. She kissed him fiercely, gripping him around the waist with one strong arm.

"I'm sorry," she said when she pulled away. "That was not cool."

"It's fine," he said. Dazed, he tried to recall the last time someone had kissed him. The awkwardness in her voice was new and unfamiliar. Something jagged and terrifying had opened in him, but the fear was oddly exhilarating, breaking him away from the horrible void. With a hand he wished wasn't shaking, he touched her face. She barked an odd little laugh.

They kissed again in the darkness. She was warm and real against him, though she was less than gentle. She smelled like sweat and the coarse green soap they had no choice but to use. His hip ached from pressing into the roof. She slid her leg around his waist and pulled him against her tight enough to hurt. After carrying around his body like it was dead weight for so long, he was overwhelmed, and an icy intense panic threatened to overtake him.

She must have felt him tense. "We're drunk," she said, taking her leg back. "We can't—we shouldn't-."

"Right." He struggled to catch his breath without being too obvious. He sat up and drew his knees to his chest, suddenly aware of a whole other problem, and was intensely mortified.

"Want to go back down?" She asked.

"No. Um. I think I should stay sitting for a little while."

"Oh." She laughed, jittery and hesitant. "I'm sure I had a joke for that, but I just can't think."

His heart was still racing. He heard her take another drink. When she offered it to him, he drank deeply. His mouth was starting to go numb; he couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the kissing. He touched his lips, unsure if they were real. He wanted to touch her, to hold her hand, to ask her to hold him. Anything to ease the vicelike loneliness he'd been feeling. But he didn't speak.

"…Are you okay?" She asked.

"Yeah… it's just been a while."

"Me too," she admitted. "You have to admit… when there are only so many other people our age around… it's hard."

"I hadn't thought about it." It was true, mostly. Any future of his seemed purely hypothetical, and misty.

"Thought about…?"

"Being… being with…" he faltered.

"Sex," she said.

"Well. Yes. I've had a lot on my mind." He pressed his fingers into his knees. The drunk thoughts passed through him unchecked. "I wasn't sure, you know, how it would work, going from Nobody to human, or if that was just how I was. I feel numb, all the time. Like a dead fish. And, like, I can't ask Even or Ienzo. I think I'd rather die."

"Wait… so are Nobodies, like, asexual?"

"I mean, it depends if the Somebody was." He shifted uncomfortably. "But, like, I was young enough that I never found out as a human. There's no feelings at all, just this very cold… attraction. I guess it's instinct? Though we are—they are—sterile, so maybe there's just no purpose to it really? God. I need to shut up."

"No. I want to know."

He hiccupped. "I was really young when I turned. So I guess I'm saying this is kind of new to me. I'm so embarrassed."

"It's fine," she said.

Neither of them spoke; the alcohol was hitting them now in full. He tried to think of boring things but found his thoughts were mostly incoherent. The intense emotions were draining out of him, leaving him bereft and drunker than he'd ever been.

[klainebowsanddramioneflies]

leytonxdraco (cause I miss them) , Hogwarts, "I'm not even sorry"

After the cut because it is SUPER NC-17!!!

Draco and Leyton are RP Characters from Merlin’s Academy for Magical Arts. Find the forum here: http://merlinamm.forumotion.com/forum Come write with us! (I promise it isn’t all porn. LOL)

Some weeks were easier than others. Some weeks werelike a fresh hell.

Draco Malfoy was generally a person of envy atHogwarts. He was Slytherin’s own Prince, the boy they all wanted to be, thepureblood wonder of dark wizards and witches. He was also under incredibleamounts of pressure that everyone seemed all too capable of ignoring.

Well, Draco couldn’t exactly ignore those details.

The letter was clasped tightly in his hand,crumpled in places where his fingers dug too hard into the parchment. Hisfather’s words still bit into his mind, his heart aching with the echoes ofthose cruel reminders of his failings.

It simply wasn’t fair. Draco had to live everysingle day with so much pressure. From society, from family, from so-calledfriends… And then there was the pressure to perform. If he so much as did onething less than expected, he was called on it. When he didn’t catch the snitchbefore Potter, which happened more often than he’d like to admit, he was theshame of his team, despite his excellent leadership as their captain. When hebrought his partner five orgasms his was questioned as to why he didn’t squeezein a sixth. When he got the second highest marks in Potions next to know-it-allGranger, he was constantly asked why the hell he hadn’t surpassed the damnedmudblood yet.

Sometimes all that pressure just got to be toomuch, and Draco kind of just… broke.

Luckily for him, he had an outlet who wasn’t toofragile for his frustrations. He had a bedmate who took and took everythingthat Draco gave without fail. His friend, his lover, his confidante from yearspast. Whenever Draco needed to release his emotions, he knew he could count onone person to never break under the onslaught.

The tall blonde male strode into the seventh yeardorms, noting the lack of his other cousin with a satisfied smirk. Luca wouldn’tdare hang around when he’d already heard of the sixth year’s rage- and talktraveled fast. Simply in the time it took Draco to storm from the Prefectmeeting he’d been in when he’d received the letter, down to the dungeons wherehis common room dwelled, he knew most of the school would have heard of hisreaction upon reading the letter.

Knowing eyes glanced up as Draco opened the doorand walked into the room as if he owned it- as if he belonged there just asmuch as the seventh year who actually slept in the specific dorm. It was simplyDraco’s nature. He acted as if he owned everything around him, and peoplerespected him for it.

“I wondered how long it would take you,”Ley growled, eyes dark with desire. He had noticed the spark in Draco’s silvergaze and was well aware of what was to come. Leyton Lestrange was not one toback down from such a challenge, or such a promise.

A raised brow and long, dexterous fingersuntucking and unbuttoning an expensive dress shirt were all that met the oldermale’s words. Draco never buttoned his shirts all the way up, so it didn’t takelong for him to shrug the shirt to the floor, leaving him in a thin white tankthat fit him like a second skin.

The look he spared Leyton spoke volumes, but ofcourse, Draco’s voice said much more. “I’d have thought, if you werewaiting for me, you’d be more prepared,” he practically purred, heat anddanger radiating from his pale, muscular skin. “Really, Ley. There’s noneed for both of us to still be fully dressed upon my arrival. I must say…I’m far from impressed.”

The formal air was something Draco took when hewas particularly stressed- a habit he fell back on from times when he tried sohard to impress his father, to make his family proud, to avoid the punishmentsthat came with disappointing them. Today, the days leading up to it, had reallysent the blonde to a bad place in his mind.

Draco stalked to the bed where his cousin sat,standing in such a way that he loomed over the brunette, intimidating yetarousing and making Leyton gulp. The younger Slytherin reached out and threadedhis fingers in Leyton’s thick locks, curling his fingers and pulling, tuggingtightly so that the older man hissed in such a way that the blonde felt hiscock harden in response.

“I think you get to keep your clothes on fora while, since you didn’t think to take any of them off,” Draco decided,hand tight in Ley’s hair. “You’re also going to blow me. So go ahead. Openmy pants and get to work.”

His smirk was so satisfied as Leyton licked hislips, quickly opening Draco’s pants and engulfing the impressive cock beforehis gaze. On a normal day, the cousins would have argued- would have had averbal sparring match until one asserted his dominance and they rutted like acouple of animals. But, this was far from a normal day, and Leyton knew whathis younger cousin needed. He was good to Draco in this way. And Draco was goodto him as well. The pair took care of one another in the twisted way that onlythey could. It worked.

“Fuck, yes!” Draco snarled,thrusting hard into Leyton’s mouth and choking him with his rigid cock, causingthe elder boy to cough and gag, drool slipping out around Draco’s manhood anddripping down Ley’s chin, making a mess of his own dress shirt and Draco’sslacks.

There was a certain level of release in usingsomeone in such a way, and Draco felt absolutely free as he thrust into Leyton’smouth, fucking his throat, bringing tears to the older man’s eyes. It was sosatisfying. It wasn’t mean to be the end, though, and Draco wasn’t ready tocome yet, so he pulled out before Ley could take him to the brink, smirkingdown at the pout that peered up at him.

“I don’t want to waste any time waiting to gethard again,” Draco stated bluntly, shoving his cousin back so that he fell tothe bed while Draco shoved his own pants down and off, rather than just open asLeyton had left them. Completely nude, Draco grabbed his wand and mutteredquickly, ridding his cousin of his clothes even as the older male worked toquickly take them off. “You can replace them. I’m not patient enough to wait.”

Leyton might have put up a fuss about lostclothing if it weren’t for how fast the blonde was on him, licking and sucking,biting at flesh from lips and neck all the way down his body until Draco spenta good bit of time biting a searing bruise into Ley’s hip. “Gonna fuck you sohard,” the blonde grunted, shoving Ley’s knees to his chest while the older maleassisted, pulling his knees up and spreading himself as much as possible.

“You always say that. The question is whether you’llactually deliver this time,” Leyton pushed, earning himself two fingers thatweren’t quite as slick as he might prefer, much faster than he might haveexpected. Still, the slight burn made him all that much hungrier for it, and ashe rotated his hips with the thrusts of Draco’s fingers, Leyton couldn’t holdback a whine for more.

It had been a while since they’d done anythingmore than fevered blowjobs in abandoned classrooms or a handy in the dormbefore Draco went to quidditch. Leyton felt Draco stretching him with anotherfinger, and wondered how much of his cousin he might feel this time. How longthe burn would last, how much the ache would grow and pulse. Call him a masochist,but he loved it. “I’m ready, Draco. C’mon!”

The blonde didn’t need telling twice. Removing hisfingers, he slicked himself and shoved his dick into Leyton in the blink of aneye. There was nothing gentle about it. Draco didn’t take his time. He didn’tgo easy, or allow his cousin to adjust to his girth. The blonde simply thruststraight into Ley as far as he could, then pulled back and did it again, thistime making it even deeper, stretching Leyton even wider around his shaft,impaling the older male as they both shuddered with desire and raw passion.

“Fuck, yes,”Draco bit out, leaning down and clamping onto Leyton’s shoulder with his teeth,biting down hard and making Ley cry out.

For his part, Leyton had screamed pretty loudlywhen he’d first been penetrated, too. The bite might have sent him further overthe edge, though. “Nngh, Draco!” He couldn’t do more than pant and dig hisfingers into the bed beneath him, holding on for dear life as he was fuckedruthlessly. There was no other way to put it, either. He was being fucked. Hardand dirty. And that was exactly how he and his cousin both needed it.

Draco pumped into him for a long while beforeLeyton felt the start of an orgasm looming in his gut. His stomach tightenedand he screamed as it overtook him without warning- going from nothing toeverything just like that. He spilled between them and his ass clamped down onDraco’s cock even as he continued to thrust. It was like Draco was ripping himapart as his ass squeezed tighter and the blonde just kept pumping.

The oversensitivity just seemed to spur theyounger male on, and it took a good dozen or more hard, deep thrusts before theblonde finally found his release deep inside Leyton’s ass. He collapsed atophis cousin, the pair looking into each other’s eyes with a deep connection betweenthem, even as the cocky gleam resumed its position in Draco’s gaze.

“You’re gonna be feeling that for a week,”Draco growled, a satisfied smirk on his face. “And I’m not evensorry.”