#I have all of these rules about pureblood families using the most important times of year (solstices

[myokk]

Eloise at her debut ball during the winter solstice🥺🤲

[motherfuckingmaneater]

Obsessed with how you portray father Cygnus (I hate black sisters abuse theories) please give us all your headcannons for him!

You and me both, anon! My headcanons list for daddy warbucks is ENDLESS so here are a good chunk. Enjoy!

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he’s a Black through and through. Tall, broad, grey eyes, black hair, classically handsome even as he gets older and older. Behind Tom Riddle he was certainly one of the most handsome boys at school despite that he’s 2 years younger than Tom. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   his best subjects were arithmancy, astronomy and alchemy. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   his magical expertise is astounding — of course it is, he’s a Black — he can recall histories of ancient lineages in his sleep and he practices rune mapping regularly. His skin is littered in runes, though admittedly, not as deeply as Orion’s is. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   like all Blacks he relies on his name more than anything else. They’re arrogant but they’re not show-offs like the Malfoys. They’re haughty but not snooty like the Rosiers. More than anything he knows how steeped in ancient and dark magic the Blacks are and he draws on that heavily, investing himself deeply in their unique, powerful, dark magic. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he also loves hunting (muggle hunting is a favourite), wizards chess, collecting dark artefacts — which he’s been doing for as long as he can remember, having ludicrously expensive things imported from all over the world. It was a hobby of his fathers which he shared interest in. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Speaking of his dad, he and Pollux had a lot in common but Pollux’s pride and joy was always Walburga.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Pollux pushed him for a career in magical law with the Ministry. Irma wanted him to become an alchemist. Alchemy was his passion, a passion he later shares with his eldest daughter, Bellatrix. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   He excelled in magical law enforcement anyway, taking additional studies to become a magilawyer. He climbs quickly in the Ministry, moving from junior to senior within the space of about four years. By the age of 30 he’s the head of magical law enforcement, the youngest wizard in Ministry history to reach that position. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   For a long time he remains magilawyer primarily keeping purebloods out of Azkaban and supporting the imprisonment of mudbloods. Yes he’s a corrupt wizard, no he does not care. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he’s heir (English side, Orion is the French side’s heir) to the wealthiest family in the world. He has more gold than he knows what to do with. When he returns from the continent he invests it heavily in Lord Voldemort, who he’s always thought has absolutely the right ideas about blood purity and whom he genuinely admires (despite that he was not invited to become a knight at school). 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Cygnus refuses to take the mark unlike many of his former classmates. Voldemort would’ve killed him for refusing him but Cygnus is useful and loyal despite his refusal to play destroy for him. Voldemort immediately uses him for keeping his death eaters out of prison if they’re ever caught, which isn’t often — and for writing new rules into the law systems of magical Britain. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he and Druella were a love match, though she is his complete opposite. His father approved of the match (she’s a good standing pureblood witch after all) but his mother didn’t and wanted him to marry a Black, likely his cousin Lucretia. She relented because of Walburga, who made the point of — what does it matter? His children will still be Blacks. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   onto his babies!!! He’s very very proud to be a girl dad. He adores his three witches, every single one of them is the absolute light of his life and he understands them completely. He gets Bellatrix’s adventurous mind and rebellious spirit, he gets Andromeda’s academic mind and quirky spirit, he gets Narcissa’s pristine mind and sweet spirit. He adores them for their uniqueness and very much encourages them to explore and pursue their passions.

 ◜    ۞    ◞  baby Narcissa curled up on his chest is guaranteed to make him fall asleep within seconds. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Druella definitely marks him down as the reason Bellatrix takes the mark and Andromeda becomes politically minded against their way of life. Cygnus takes none of the blame because his girls have always been single-mindedly passionate to what they believe in.  

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Andromeda’s leaving wounds him deeply, but only furthers his closeness to Bellatrix and Narcissa, remaining very much a deep and fixed part of their lives. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he’s daddy as fuck. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   100% Alphard was his best friend. He did not approve of him being disowned for giving Sirius gold, though he did heavily disapprove of Sirius’s actions against the family. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Walburga is the love of his life, he adores his big sister though he finds her intolerable at times (as all siblings do). He bends over backwards for her and does it without thinking twice. He is also exceptionally protective of her — cut to Cygnus decking Orion in the face for calling her a stuck up bitch and Walburga telling him she ‘wanted to do that herself!’

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Narcissa has done him the most proud for her family values and her integrity.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Bellatrix has done him the most proud for her strength, ability, power and position in society.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he approved of Bellatrix being taught magic by Voldemort when she’s 15 — after all, she’s practically a child and Voldemort is older than him what’s the worst that could happen? 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   He didn’t realise how in love with him she was until he hears them conversing when she’s 19 and engaged to Rodolphus Lestrange. He didn’t mean to listen in, but he overhears her begging him not to marry her to Rodolphus and take her instead. He says no but that it won’t change things between them, she’ll always be his first. It stilts Cygnus entirely and he leaves quickly. He never shares what he hears with anyone, even Bellatrix.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he finds out about Orion and Bellatrix’s affair first. He finds them asleep together when they’re in Orion’s home in France. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   if he could, he’d have had her marry Sirius and keep the Black family name. As it is, he was too young for her and also she seems dead set against having children anyway — and he doubts Sirius could change her mind, so he relents against his preferences for her marriage. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   as for Rodolphus I have two ideas for how this could go: either way he loves his son in-law, they have an excellent relationship and they’re both dangerously protective of Bellatrix. 1. Rodolphus and Bellatrix have been best friends since their childhood, it makes sense they marry each other. Bellatrix doesn’t mind so much, he’d make for an easy enough match and she does seem to adore the wizard. It’s an easy engagement, easy marriage, and they make a beautiful couple. 2. Rodolphus is Cygnus and Voldemort’s age, a former peer of theirs. Rodolphus never marries and never shows he’s interested in Bellatrix. Bellatrix expresses her interest in him directly to a very surprised but perfectly pleased Cygnus who agrees he’s an exceptional wizard and would make for a brilliant husband. Plus if Orion proves anything, he knows his girl has always liked her older wizards. They court for some time, get engaged within a year and married in the next — again they make a beautiful couple. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he is not keen on Lucius Malfoy despite that he seems to dote on Narcissa and bend to her every whim. Narcissa deserves far better — but honestly no one would be good enough for his most precious girl, so fine.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   He knew about Bellatrix and Voldemort’s affair and did everything in his power to keep it from ruining his daughter’s reputation which he felt she was being reckless about. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he tried to talk her out of it multiple times but it only seemed to further her closeness to Voldemort and Voldemort’s iron-tight grip on his daughter. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   one day when he finally confronts him, Voldemort says if he wanted to make his pretty little daughter his personal whore he would, and who would stop him? Certainly not Cygnus Black. Cygnus (in his very characteristically Black temperament) pulled all Black funding from under Voldemort’s feet and found himself on the other end of Voldemort’s wand. When Cygnus refused to relent despite the threat of death, Voldemort turned his wand onto Bellatrix. He had the choice — continue giving him the gold he wanted or lose his heiress. He didn’t think he could actually kill her given how close they were and how heavily involved with everything Bellatrix was (and quite frankly, how obsessed and possessive of Bellatrix Voldemort appeared to be) but Cygnus complied.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he once more risked Voldemort’s wrath by demanding the man at least have the decency to marry his daughter when he gets her pregnant. Voldemort only laughed and Cygnus lost what little respect for him he had left after that. Though he continues supporting the cause, he actively avoids Voldemort unless he can’t. Even then, he speaks to him with a candour and freeness no one else (except Walburga and Pollux) seem able to. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   Despite that, he absolutely adores his little granddaughter (more than his grandson, sorry Draco). Delphini means the world to Cygnus and he’s grateful to Walburga for legitimising her. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞  the most devoted, hands-on grandfather you will ever come across. Absolutely spoils his girl rotten just like he did her mother.

 ◜    ۞    ◞  he continues hunting well into his older age, almost always solely with Bellatrix. It hurts him just a little she goes with Voldemort more than him. During the height of the war he never sees her without him nor him without her. 

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he loses his job when he fights for Bellatrix’s release from Azkaban prison. He’s disbarred and revoked of his positions and titles. He’s heart broken and inconsolable at his daughter’s imprisonment, his most beautiful, shining star chained behind bars. He misses her beyond belief and not Walburga, Druella or Narcissa are able to pull him from his grief.

 ◜    ۞    ◞   he dies from the heartbreak of losing Bellatrix to Azkaban and then soon after, Walburga’s death. No one is with him when he passes, but his hand is tight around the picture he keeps of Bellatrix with him all the time. Delphini takes the picture and keeps it herself. 

[engie-ivy]

(This fic was inspired by @wolfstarmicrofic's Once Upon a Fairytale-theme, but at 5240 words it became far from a microfic😅 (so no need to reblog it!)

I'm actually really happy with how this fic turned out! It contains all those things that I love; Hurt Sirius and Protective and Worried James and Remus, plus a happy (fairytale) ending.

There's implied child abuse and an almost character death, but I promise, happy ending!)

When he was just a child, Prince Sirius was made to vow that he would never fall in love with someone of impure blood. Little did he know at that age that love isn't always a choice, that love is something that can just happen to you.

And when it does happen to Sirius, the consequences of breaking that vow are grave.

A Prince's Promise

(A Wolfstar fairytale)

Once upon a time, there was a young prince.

Now, this young prince didn’t fancy being a prince very much. His days were filled with stuffy parties, strict protocols, and tedious teachers lecturing him about boring matters.

Most lectures were about the prestige of his family, and why it were they that were meant to rule.

“You see, Sirius, our family has always done the most to keep our bloodline pure, and this has given us a very direct line to the Ancient Ones, our ancestors who were able to utilize magical powers. Therefore, we are one of the few families who still have traces of that old magic flowing through their veins. Our family still possesses ancient artefacts forged by the Ancient Ones that can still access and make use of this inherent magic, so that only one of the purest Black Blood can use them.”

Six-year-old Prince Sirius nods obediently, even though he does not quite understand everything his father is saying. Usually, when King Orion summons him to his study, it is to scold and punish him, so merely receiving another lecture on blood purity is a relief.

“So, you see, my son,” King Orion continues. “It is of the utmost importance we keep our bloodline pure.”

Sirius nods again, though his mind has already drifted off to dinner, and whether there will be rice pudding pie as dessert.

“And do you know how to do that, Sirius?”

Sirius gives a start at being asked a direct question. Usually, he can get away with just looking solemn and nodding at the right moment during these lectures. “I… No, father. I do not.”

Sirius, assuming this will lead to the feared punishment after all, and flinches when his father leans forward, but King Orion just smiles, a very rare sight.

“It is alright, my son. You are very young, so it is only natural you do not know of these things, but therefore, you must pay close attention now. You see, what you must do, is make a vow that you will never fall in love with someone of impure blood.” King Orion looks at Sirius intently. “Can you do that, son?”

Now, at only six years old, Sirius doesn’t understand the difference between those with pure blood and those with impure blood, not really. He knows that ‘pureblood’ is used to refer to the ones wearing stuffy clothes at stuffy formal gatherings, who must wear a bored, haughty expression whenever they are in public, and look down their noses at everyone. The ones like himself, his little brother and their cousins. He knows that ‘impure’ is used to refer to the children in the kitchens and in the stables, who run around, laugh and cause mischief.

For that matter, Sirius also does not understand what falling in love means. Only having the king and queen as example, all he knows is that it means you move into a castle with someone and attend draining social events together while barely sparing each other a glance. The children of impure blood are so lucky and have such exciting lives! Chasing each other, playing with the animals on the farms, climbing trees in the forest. Why on earth would Sirius ever force them into the same controlled, suffocating live as he is living by being so cruel as to fall in love with them?

At only six years old, Sirius has no idea that love isn’t always a choice you make, but something that can happen to you whether you want it or not.

“Yes, father,” Sirius says. “I vow that I won’t.”

“Good.” There is something sinister in King Orion’s voice that makes Sirius involuntarily shiver. King Orion takes off one of his velvet gloves and wraps his hand around some sort of rod. Sirius would swear that for a second, he sees a strange sort of glow around the rod the moment his father’s skin touches the strange material. King Orion holds the rod out to Sirius. “This is an Oath Rod,” he says. “Any vow spoken by one who has the magic of the Ancient Ones coursing through their veins while holding the Oath Rod, will be an Unbreakable Vow. I need you to make your vow on the Oath Rod.”

Sirius hesitates, an undefinable feeling of wrongness coming over him. “I… I don’t know…”

King Orion tilts his head and there’s a hint of something dangerous in his voice as he speaks. “My boy. You were not planning on breaking your vow, the vow of a prince, now were you?”

Sirius quickly shakes his head, and his father smiles.

“Well then, no need to worry about making it an Unbreakable Vow then, is there?”

Sirius bites his lip, and then slowly shakes his head again.

“Go on then.”

Sirius knows it feels wrong, but he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know what consequences placing such a weighty oath on the shoulders of someone so young can have, but he does know that he’s hungry, and he doesn’t want to be send to his chambers on an empty stomach, and he does know how inexorable his father’s fists can be.

Hesitantly, Sirius reaches out and places his hand on the rod. The strange glow appears and immediately disappears again, and this time, it is paired with a strange warmth connecting Sirius’ hand to the rod, and somehow to his father’s hand.

King Orion looks at him patiently, but Sirius has known his father long enough to see that that patience is a veil wearing very thin.

“I vow that I will never fall in love with someone of impure blood.” Sirius’ voice is shaky and unsure, but the effect is immediate. A tingling feeling creeps into the hand holding the rod, seeps into his veins, courses through his blood, ones, twice, three times, encompassing him, taking over every part of his being, leaving him breathless, and then… it’s gone.

Sirius is gasping for air, trying to catch his breath, as King Orion puts his glove back on and places the now so plain seeming rod back into his drawer.

“Very well. Now, let us go to the dining room.” He speaks as if nothing happened.

As if Prince Sirius did not just seal his own fate.

As Prince Sirius grows older, the memory of his vow grows more and more distant. The whole kingdom agrees that the young prince gets more handsome every day, and has turned into a clever and brave young man. King Orion and Queen Walburga, however, mostly see that he gets more stubborn every day, and more inclined to question their rule.

And it is true.

The better Sirius’ understanding of the world becomes, the clearer he can see the injustice in the way his parents treat their people. How all opportunities are given to the high society, the pureblood class, how the lower classes do not have access to proper education or qualify for high-ranking jobs, and how the poor stay poor while the rich get richer.

He clashes with King Orion more and more often, and instead of fear, his father’s violence and threats only install a sort of fierce determination in him.

The situation between Sirius and his family is quickly becoming unmaintainable.

That is the only reason why Queen Walburga takes Lady Euphemia’s offer into any real consideration.

In het letter to the royal family, Lady Euphemia offers for Prince Sirius comes to stay at the Potter estate for a while. According to her, based on their few brief meetings at social functions, the young prince and Lord Fleamont and Lady Euphemia’s only son and heir James Potter seemed to get along well, and it might be beneficial to both boys’ development to spend time with a peer.

Now, Queen Walburga isn’t fond of the Potter family. They have acquired most of their fortune through trade, instead of it being passed from generation to generation, and they are a type of new money who do not always adhere to the traditions the Blacks value so much.

But the Potters do have a talent for making themselves renown and influential. They gather the best intellectuals, philosophers, artists, writers and swordsmen around them, and noble families from all over the realm are keen to send their sons to the Potter estate for some period of time, so that they can receive lessons in politics, strategic warfare, literature, poetry, ballet, archery, swordsmanship, and what else a boy must learn to become a proper young nobleman.

It would not seem suspicious for King Orion and Queen Walburga to send their son away from court to spend some time furthering his education at the Potter estate, and the fact that no one would question it, is perhaps the most important factor weighing on favour of the idea. If talk starts to spread around court, talk that there is a rift between Prince Sirius and King Orion, overly ambitious lords awaiting their chance could see the defiant young prince as the perfect opportunity. A handsome, charismatic, young prince with a direct and strong claim to the throne, whom they can convince people to rally behind and, not knowing how strong-willed their prince is, whom they think they can use as their pawn to overthrow the king.

No, it is much better if the tensions between Prince Sirius and King Orion are kept quiet, and sending Sirius to a far-away estate seems like the best option, especially when a young man going to the Potter estate for educational purpose will not raise any suspicions.

That’s how, at sixteen years old, Prince Sirius goes to live at the Potter estate.

He’s nervous, because yes, during the brief conversations he has had with James Potter, they seemed to connect, but briefly running into each other at one of the events they were forced to attend is quite different than actually living together.

As Sirius steps out of his carriage, though, James walks up to him with a huge grin on his face and wraps Sirius in a firm hug, and somehow, despite being so unfamiliar with the feeling of being hugged, Sirius’ nerves dissipate. From that moment on, it’s like James and he have known each other their whole lives, and they instantly become brothers.

That day is also the day Sirius meets Remus Lupin.

Sirius had not, could never have, expected Remus Lupin. He did not know someone like Remus Lupin could even exist. Remus Lupin’s mother is the head of the household for Lady Euphemia, and his father works in the Potters’ stables, so Remus grew up in and around the Potter estate. He has known James his whole life, and they also share a brotherly bond, something that would’ve been impossible at the castle Sirius grew up in, due to their difference in class and status. Since James sees them as his two brothers, perhaps it would’ve made sense for Sirius and Remus to see each other as brothers as well, but as their eyes meet for the first time, right from the very start, for some reason, it never feels like that.

Not that Sirius doesn’t like Remus. On the contrary, he thinks Remus is incredible.

Remus is kind and clever, and he has this calming presence that makes everyone feel at ease around him. Remus knows everything about everyone, and he can get anything done. A feat he and James have often used for mischief making. Because you might not suspect it when you first see him, but Remus has a mischievous, adventurous side to him, and a wicked sense of humour.

Sirius is mesmerized by this unlikely combination. Especially with the way Remus approaches him, an open curiosity and an inquiring gaze, so different from the people living in and around King Orion’s castle, who lower their eyes and duck their heads as soon as Sirius approaches. Especially considering the circles Sirius usually moves in, Remus is so unlike anyone he has ever met.

They hang out with the three of them together a lot, they pull pranks and get up to some mischief. When they get caught once for having switched all spices in the kitchen, so that the pie tastes salty, the potatoes taste sweet, the soup tastes like cinnamon and the puff pastry rolls taste like pepper, Sirius braces himself for shouting, a switching and a day locked in his chamber without food, but Lady Euphemia just ruffles their hair as she smiles indulgently.

“My bunch of marauders. Always up to no good, aren’t you?” She says fondly, before continuing on her way to the gardens.

James laughs, which turns to surprise seeing how tense Sirius has gotten. That’s when Sirius fully realises that he’s safe here, he only has to be himself here, and the tension slides off of him. He’s home here.

James has to spend more and more time with his father, learning all the tasks that come with being Lord Potter and running the Potter estate. Plus, he’s getting more and more preoccupied with the youngest daughter of a respected pharmacist in town, a beautiful red-headed girl, much to the delight of his parents, who call the girl a fine young lady and an excellent match, which is much to Sirius’ shock, as the girl isn’t even upper class. Growing up, Sirius could never understand why someone’s descant matters so much, and now he knows why he couldn’t: because it doesn’t. And why should it? The girl, who simply goes by Lily, has a sharp mind and a fierce character, and Sirius likes her.

With James being increasingly busy, Sirius and Remus end up spending a lot of time together.

Remus shows Sirius around in the stables, where Sirius, without anyone sneering at him to stay away from those filthy animals, finally gets to drop down on his knees and give ear scratches, pets and hugs to the happy, tail-wagging dogs running up to him and jumping up against him.

It is quite possibly the best moment of his life.

When he looks up and sees Remus looking at him with a strange look on his face that Sirius can’t quite decipher, their eyes meet, and Remus gives him a small smile that Sirius returns, the moment only gets better.

Remus takes him out riding to show him the surroundings. Not like Sirius is used to: ‘and this is the estate of Lord So-And-So, who married Lady This-And-That, the widow of That Other Lord, who left her this amount of money after his passing, and now with Lord So-And-So, her estimated fortune is this much’. No, Remus takes him over well hidden trials through the woods, and shows him the trees he used to climb as a kid, the creek his father takes him fishing, the clearing where, early in the morning, you might see a group of wild hogs, and the hilltop from where you have the best view of the sunset. Sirius enjoys every minute of it.

During that first, blissful time of living with at the Potter Estate, everything is perfect.

Until Sirius starts getting ill.

The first time it happens is actually after a day of riding with Remus. They had made their horses gallop over the hilltops, stopped at a meadow full of flowers for a picnic, and had returned to the estate, tired, but content.

Sirius is trying to unsaddle his horse and remove his bridle, but he’s not making much progress, as the horse keeps pushing his nose against Sirius’ face, and Remus comes to help him.

Sirius chuckles as the hoarse nuzzles his cheek. “He has taken quite a liking to me.”

He reaches for the strap of the bridle, but as the horse is blocking his view, he accidentally places his hand on top of Remus’. As their hands touch, they look up, and their eyes meet. The air around them feels charged for a reason Sirius cannot define, and he feels his breath catch.

After a moment, Remus smiles. “He’s not the only one,” he says softly.

Sirius feels a tug at his heart, and something shift inside him, before slotting into place.

As he opens his mouth to speak, however, a wave of nausea rushes over him and he doubles over in pain, pressing his hands to his stomach.

“Sirius?” Remus asks worriedly as he rushes over to him. “Are you okay?”

Sirius stands up and gives him a weak smile. “I’m okay. Just... feeling a bit off. I should return to my chambers and retire early tonight.”

“Go ahead then,” Remus says. “I will finish taking care of the horse.”

Sirius gives him a grateful smile and turns to walk away.

“Sirius?”

He stops and looks back at Remus.

“I had a really good time today,” Remus says, sounding a bit uncertain for the first time since Sirius has known him.

Sirius smiles. “Yeah, me too.”

He has to quickly turn around and walk away before he gets sick in front of Remus, as another wave of nausea hits him.

The next morning, Sirius walks into the dining hall for breakfast, trying to go about his day, even though he’s still not feeling great.

However, Lady Euphemia takes one look at him, pale damp skin, but with glowing cheeks, and sends him back to his chambers. “Rest, darling. If you sleep it off now, you’ll be fit as a fiddle again tomorrow!”

He isn’t.

The next morning, Sirius only feels worse. His skin is damp and sweaty, his muscle ache, and he’s taking heavy breaths. The Potters’ personal physician checks up on him, and concludes it’s a serious fever, possibly the flu, but that a young and strong man such as the prince will sweat it out and sleep it off, and he will already feel much better in just a matter of days.

He doesn’t.

His condition only deteriorates. Often, he’s in a feverish, barely lucid state, he can hardly hold food down, his whole body hurts, and he just lies in bed taking raspy breaths until he falls asleep from exhaustion.

The Potters send for doctors, healers, nurses, medicine women and men, anyone who might be able to help. They try different herbs and powders, unfamiliar foods, ice baths, steam baths, but nothing works and no one can figure out why.

The Potters have no choice but to send a courier to carry a letter with great urgency to King Orion and Queen Walburga, informing them of their son’s worrisome condition. They respond with the heartfelt reply that since Prince Sirius has fallen ill while being in their care, they’ll have to cover the medical costs.

Meanwhile, James and Remus hardly leave Sirius’ side. James will pace the room and tell Sirius a million stories to distract him from the pain and discomfort. Remus will just sit by his bed and hold his hand, or read to him from his favourite books.

It’s a nurse from a local school, Poppy Pomfrey, called upon by the Potters in another desperate attempt, who is the first who finally dares to say it out loud: “That boy is dying.”

While the distraught Lord Fleamont and Lady Euphemia start to realize there’s nothing they can do for the boy but wait for the end, James and Remus simply refuse to accept it. “The dogs are really missing you, we should take them for a long walk once you’re better!” “There’s this great bookstore in town, I’ll take you there once you’re feeling well again.” “The cook baked this amazing cake, as soon as you’re recovered, you should ask her to make it again.” “I’ve got some amazing ideas for pranks for once you’re all better again.”

When Sirius is having a more lucid moment, he looks over at Remus sitting by his bedside, listens to the soothing sound of his voice as he reads to him, and takes in the soft golden of his eyes illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the window. ‘At least I got to have this,’ he thinks to himself. ‘If this is going to be the end, at least I got to have this. At least, in James, I found family. At least, in Remus, I found…’

It suddenly hits him. A realisation that makes all puzzle pieces fall into place, and it all comes rushing back to him. His father’s study, a young, scared boy who had no idea what was being asked of him, a strange rod and a magic settling into his veins.

James comes in a moment later, and to give him some time with Sirius, Remus goes to help his mum in the kitchens.

“James,” Sirius says, forcing put the words as soon as Remus is gone. “I have fallen in love with Remus.”

James just gives him a sad smile. “To be honest, Siri, I figured as much. But we’ll deal with that later, yeah? Right now, you need to just focus on getting better.”

“No, Jamie, you don’t understand…”

And so Sirius tells James the whole story.

By the end of it, James is pinching the bridge of his nose. “That has got to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

“I was six years old!” Sirius defends himself. “I had no idea what I was even doing. I didn’t know that love isn’t necessarily a choice,” Sirius needs to pause for a moment to take a breath. “I didn’t know that love is something that can suddenly wash over you when you look into someone’s eyes…”

“Well, now we know the reason for your illness,” James says. “You broke an Unbreakable Vow.”

“Doesn’t make sense,” Sirius replies. “Unbreakable, but I’ve clearly broken it! Sure, I’ll die for it, but if it was truly Unbreakable, you’d think it would have been actually physically impossible for me to fall in love with Remus in the first place. It’s called an Unbreakable Vow, not a Break-And-Die Vow, innit?”

“Really?” James asks, placing his hands on his hips. “That’s what you’re worried about right now? The semantics of the term?”

Sirius shakes his head, as he feels a new wave of exhaustion wash over him. “It also means there is no cure, doesn’t it?” He closes his eyes as he speaks. “You break an Unbreakable Vow, and then that’s it.”

He doesn’t hear James’ reply, as he has already drifted off to sleep.

“Okay,” Remus says, pacing James’ room. “Okay. So we have a cause, now we can find a solution. We must ask King Orion to release him from his vow! Surely, he just wanted to scare his son, not actually let him die. I’m sure that if we ask him-”

“That won’t work,” James interrupts. “You can’t be released from an Unbreakable Vow. It’s impossible.”

“Well, that doesn’t make sense,” Remus says. “Unbreakable, sure, but if someone releases you from a vow, you haven’t broken it, have you? It’s called an Unbreakable Vow, not an Unreleasable Vow, innit?”

“Well, I didn’t come up with the term!” James exclaims, before muttering under his breath “Again with the semantics.” He shakes his head. “Remus,” he continues. “To be honest, I don’t think it would’ve mattered even if King Orion could release Sirius from the vow.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that King Orion must’ve known he couldn’t be certain a six-year-old boy could keep an oath like that for the rest of his life, and he must’ve known what he was doing.” A dark look passes over James’ face. “He made a conscious consideration and decided that he rather sees his son dead than see him ‘defile’ the blood line.”

“Okay, well, then that’s not an option. But… But we can still…” Still pacing the room, Remus frantically tries to think of something, anything, else. “We can still try to get our hands on that Oath Rod! We can steal it. Maybe we can make it work, despite not having the proper bloodline. We can let Sirius swear a different oath, to overwrite the first one. Maybe an oath that goes directly against the first one! Or maybe we can figure out how to reverse the magic of the first oath, and undo it. Or what if-”

“Remus!”

Remus finally stops his pacing and turns to look at James.

James runs a hand through his hair. “I just told you he’s in love with you! Don’t you… don’t you feel anything about that?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, James.” Remus gives James a tortured look. “That I’m happy about it? Happy to have been given something like that, only to have it immediately ripped away? Or do you want me to admit that I’ve so selfishly been wishing for it, that it was my heart’s greatest desire, and now it is going to cost him his life?” Remus shakes his head. “I don’t care how he feels about me, James. I don’t care if he loves me or hates me, or feels nothing towards me at all,I just need him to be okay.”

“I understand,” James says softly. “And we won’t give up on him, Remus. We won’t.”

“I’m a coward,” Remus says. “I like to pretend it’s all so unfair, how people like you and James get opportunities that I will never get, how hard my life is just because I was born lower class, but the truth is, I wouldn’t trade if I could. I’m simply too much of a coward to take on the responsibilities that you have to take on. I like sticking to my simple chores, I like avoiding ever having to take any responsibility, and I like feeling sorry for myself and wallowing in self-pity. I always choose the easy way out, and then I pretend it’s all so unjust that I don’t get further in life. I hide behind my background and my insecurities, and I don’t owe up to that fact that I’m simply too scared to take a risk. Taking a risk means you can fail, and I don’t want to fail others. Not because I care so much about others, but because I’m self-centred and care so much about what others think of me. I once stole a honey cake from the kitchens, and the cook blamed the new kitchen boy. I didn’t want her to be disappointed in me, so I didn’t confess and let him get punished for what I did.” Remus bites his lip as he remembers that moment. “I put my own need for validation first, regardless of the consequences for anyone else. And the worst is, if I could do it again, I don’t think I would do anything differently.”

“You look so cute when you bite your lip like that,” Sirius responds.

Remys drops his head on Sirius’ matrass and groans loudly. “Sirius! Focus! We’re trying to make you fall out of love with me! Really, it shouldn’t be so hard.”

“It’s not hard,” Sirius says. “It’s impossible. Remus, my heart is set on you, and nothing can deviate it from its course.”

Remus lifts his head, and feels tears well up in his eyes. “What do you expect me to do then? Just sit here and watch you die? I’m not worth all of that, Sirius. I’m not.”

“Listing all your flaws won’t help,” Sirius replies. “I’m not in love with you despite all of that, I’m in love with you with all of that. I’m in love with you for your strengths and I’m in love with you for your weaknesses.”

Remus shakes his head and hides his face in his hands. “There must be something I can do!”

Sirius reaches out, pulls one of Remus’ hands away from his face and takes it in his.

As Remus looks at him, he sees there are tears in Sirius’ eyes as well.

“Don’t leave me alone.” Sirius’ voice sounds small and scared as he squeezes Remus’ hand. “Be by my side? If I have to die for this love, then please, let me revel in it for just these final moments.”

Remus squeezes his hand back. “I’ll be here. I promise. I’ll be here.”

“I love you,” Sirius says hoarsely, having to gather his strength to form the words.

Sirius and Remus are alone, with Remus sitting by Sirius’ bedside, a place he now hardly ever leaves, while James is in the Potters’ library, frantically searching for a way, any way, to get out of an Unbreakable Vow.

They all know time is quickly running out, though.

Remus closes his eyes. He feels conflicted. On the one hand, he feels like he could live his whole life on just the memory of Sirius saying those words to him. On the other hand, it already hurts so much to lose Sirius as his dear friend and companion, he doesn’t want the reminder that it could’ve been so much more.

“It’s not fair,” Remus says as he opens his eyes again. “How can our story end before it has even begun? It wasn’t supposed to be like this! I wasn’t supposed to lose you, I can’t lose you. You were supposed to have been my happy ending.”

“Kiss me,” Sirius whispers. “Please… I don’t want to die without knowing… Without knowing what it’s like.”

It’ll destroy him, but how can Remus refuse?

So he reaches out and carefully brushes a strand of hair away from Sirius’ eyes, before gently cupping his face in his hands and softly pressing their lips together.

“I should’ve known.” James pinches the bridge of his nose. “I should have bloody known.”

Sirius grins at him. “In hindsight, it’s kind of obvious, isn’t it?” He’s sitting upright in bed, popped up against a pillow, eating a bowl of soup. Remus is sitting next to him on the edge of the bed, one arm wrapped protectively around Sirius’ waist for support. Sirius is still weak and tires quickly after being on the verge of death, but he’s gaining a little strength every day.

James rubs his eyes, still not quite sharp after all those sleepless nights spent frantically searching for a way out of the Unbreakable Vow. “Of course it was True Love’s First Kiss,” he mutters. “It’s always bloody True Love’s First Kiss!”

“So I’m not going to die, and Remus is my confirmed true love!” Sirius beams. “Couldn’t have gone better, don’t you think?”

Remus rolls his eyes. “Well, personally, I could’ve done without the whole sitting-by-your-death-bed situation.” Then he gazes at Sirius fondly. “But I guess I can’t complain about the end result.” He presses a brief kiss against Sirius’ lips.

As Sirius immediately leans in for another kiss, Remus smiles against his lips. “Sirius, you need to eat.”

Sirius hums. “I might still be feeling a bit nauseated. Better give me True Love’s Twelfth Kiss, just to be sure.”

James snorts. “More like True Love’s One Hundred and Fifth Kiss at this point.”

Sirius chuckles. “Well, Jamie, better safe than sorry!”

That’s how Prince Sirius learned something that the Ancient Ones had known, but his family had failed to pass on from generation to generation:

No matter how binding or dark the curse, no magic is more powerful than that of love.

And while they still have many challenges to face, with that power on their side, Sirius and Remus know they are going to live happily ever after.

The End.

(For Remus, it was the moment when he saw Sirius play with the dogs. For Sirius, it was the moment when their hands touched and eyes met while unsaddling the horse)

[iamnmbr3]

Regulus decorated his room with a painstakingly hand painted version of his family crest and motto ("toujours pur") which references blood supremacy. He did this because he was presumably proud of his lineage and his family's beliefs. It's also notable that Sirius's parents later had qualms about Voldemort. This was very obviously not because they changed their blood supremacist views. Regulus's ultimate betrayal of Voldemort likely had similar roots - he was probably disgusted by Voldemort's decision to split his soul and worried about what his eternal rule would actually mean for the pureblood ruling class.

(And he was right to worry - as we see from Voldemort's treatment of his Death Eaters and the whole Malfoy family, he doesn't seem to really hold any great respect for the pureblood elite, and actually seems to enjoy degrading and hurting them. Just look at how they address him; their treatment of him seems modeled on the behavior of house elves, calling him "Master" etc, bowing in front of him - i.e. they are using the language of slavery. I doubt most of the ruling pureblood families wanted to spend an eternity as slaves).

Regulus did like Kreacher, but it was also he who volunteered Kreacher for Voldemort's service, possibly to advance his own standing (though he did have some reservations as he impressed upon Kreacher the importance of coming back).

This occurred a year after Regulus had become a Death Eater, and from Kreacher's story we know in all that time he didn't express any changes in his views and still saw it as an honor for Voldemort to ask something of him. So it's not like he became a Death Eater and then immediately got cold feet and changed his mind.

Furthermore, he knew a lot about what he was signing up for before he joined. Remember, he became a Death Eater at the height of Voldemort's power. It was pretty clear what that would entail. And Regulus seems to have been all for it since the other thing decorating his room was a collage he made out of news articles about Voldemort's crimes.

That's what he slept with over his bed. That's some Barty Crouch Jr. & Bellatrix Lestrange levels of Voldemort devotion.

None of that takes away from the fact that Regulus changed his mind and gave his life to fight Voldemort and seems to have often cared about Kreacher's wellbeing and feelings (although he doesn't seem to have viewed enslaving him as wrong). Probably he didn't renounce his blood supremacist views though we can't know for sure. Either way though, he certainly held those views very strongly for most of his life and was not coerced into becoming a Death Eater by his family. And that's what makes him interesting. He is complex and contradictory and flawed. I like Regulus as a character; I find him to be utterly fascinating. And his flaws are what make him interesting and fun.

(Just like I like Snape as a character btw. Snape, who we know definitely did renounce his blood supremacist views later, who risked and ultimately gave his life to fight Voldemort, and who went out of his way to save others when he could. This doesn't take away from all the cruelties he engaged in or the fact that he was a Death Eater or the fact that he took his justifiable anger over past trauma out on people who were innocent of blame and did not deserve it. To me it just makes him complicated and interesting, just like Regulus).

This is not to say that anyone has to like or dislike any particular character. But I think it's a shame when we sand down the complexities and flaws that make them interesting. Regulus isn't interesting because he was a soft baby who was forced into becoming a Death Eater against his will (why? why would his family do that? what would they even gain?). He's interesting because he had a creepy little Voldemort fan collage in his bedroom and proudly joined the Death Eaters and never broke with his family like Sirius did but also ultimately turned against Voldemort, wrote him a dramatic F U note, gave his life to fight him, and cared to make sure his house elf got out safe. These are interesting contradictions and provide a lot of fodder for analysis and discussion and headcanons and fic. To me that's much more fun than Regulus just being a pure cinnamon role. That's just me though.

"you can't defend regulus and not defend snape"

actually, yes, i can. watch me.

snape was a child abuser, who regularly insulted, embarrassed and physically injured his students on a daily basis. he only was part of the order bc he had an unhealthy obsession with his childhood bestfriend, who he called a slur on several occasions. who he, on top of trying to kill her husband, didn't care about her child or family until her life was in danger. he only became "good" when the woman who had rejected him several times might have been injured. he was such a terrible teacher and human being, that one of his student's BIGGEST FEAR was him. he was racist and a blood supremecist, even though he was a half a blood himself. he was not "morally gray", he was a horrible person.

regulus black was forced to become a death eater by his family, and in the end, betrayed voldemort and gave up his life to try to end the war. he loved his house elf, and did everything to make sure kreacher made it out alive. he was not an abuser, he was the abused.

so, yes, i can defend regulus and not defend snape.

[happyyyandcrazyyy]

secret (sirius black x reader)

summary: (y/n) (y/l/n) has known sirius black since they were kids, being part of the sacred twenty-eight and coming from elitist pureblood families meant that they had shared uncomfortable reunions and awkward dinners for as long as they could remember. once in hogwarts, sirius makes it well known that he’s everything his parents are not and (y/n) is forced to follow into her family’s steps. they shouldn’t be friends, but they are. after all, (y/n) knows him better than he knows himself and sirius is the only one that sees through her façade of a perfect daughter. they are best friends, maybe something more, but it must remain a secret.

warnings: relationship violence (not detailed and only briefly mentioned)

a/n: this fic is my baby, i love her w all my heart.

i. prologue

(Y/N) could only remember pieces of her childhood, fragments buried deep in her mind that when she thought back upon them they brought a smile to her face. She could recall the feeling of the sun hitting her skin, making it warm to the touch. She could remember the sweat that had dripped down her face after running around for hours and how her mother had wiped it off using her pastel green handkerchief, her head shaking in disapproval. She could recall the sweet taste of lemonade that had been prepared by the Malfoy’s house-elf and the smell of blooming flowers. Oh, and how could she ever forget about the piggy tails, those damned piggy tails that had tugged at her scalp but that her mother was adamant she needed to use because they made her look like a “proper little lady”. She could remember running as she played with the other pureblood kids in the enormous backyard of the Malfoy Manor. Well, it would hardly be fair to call it a game, they more so competed with each other (which had almost always resulted in someone crying) but she could only remember the feeling of joy. It had been fun, probably the most fun she had ever been allowed to have.

Faces were mostly a blur, as they usually are when one is young. She could distinctly remember Father’s frown and the tapping of his fingers in the table whenever he was disappointed, a habit that stayed as the years went by. About Mother she could recall her perfectly manicured hands and the way they would thread through her hair at night, roughly pulling at the knots. But, above everything else, she could vividly remember Sirius Black. His grey eyes— one of his most distinctive features and the one thing that hadn’t changed as he grew older —were the one thing she remembered the most. They were strikingly beautiful, always bright with amusement and shining with mischief. Maybe that had been what had lured her in. Or, perhaps, it had something to do with the gentleness and warmth that could be found in those grey eyes, behind layers of playfulness. There was a certain fondness when those eyes looked at her, something she wasn’t accustomed to. Either way, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) found herself becoming close friends with a young Sirius Black, one that was fiercely protective and didn’t hesitate to break rules or push boundaries for her.

(It was to be expected, really. Not only did they spend a vast amount of time together, but he was unlike anything she’d ever known. She’d grown up in a household where love was scarce, surrounded by people that were too focused on obtaining power and money, blinded by their belief that blood purity made them better. Sirius was like a feeling of warmth and gentleness in a world that was frigid and vicious.)

Of course, those days running around the Malfoy manor were long in the past. (Y/N) had enjoyed a very brief childhood because, as soon as she had turned six her mother had decided she was “too old to be acting like a rowdy boy”. Her days of being a kid were over and so the endless period of being groomed into a proper lady, and a perfect pureblood daughter, began.

She was taught to cook and sew. (“Always important qualities in a good wife,” her mother has stated.) She’d just turned six. By the age of seven, she’d mastered the (Y/L/N) poker face, one that people would dare say was almost identical and as perfect as the one her father wore. She learned from her mother how to keep the emotions off her face, how to always appear calm and collected, and how to maintain a soft and sweet tone regardless of any other emotion that she might feel. (Y/N) became an expert at blinking tears away— biting the inside of her cheek to do so —because “crying was the sign of weak woman” and, although she was to be submissive and obedient to the male figures in her life, she needed to portray herself as someone with a forceful personality.

When she was eight her mother hired tutors and (Y/N) found herself learning etiquette and French. A year later her father found her a professor to teach her magic, assuring his daughter would have an advantage over everyone else at Hogwarts. (“Why even try if not to be the best?” he would tell her often. He accepted nothing other than perfection.) Although she didn’t practice incantations— not because of lack of desire from her father’s side but because it was forbidden by the Ministry of Magic —she learned all the theory behind the spells. By the time she was to leave for Hogwarts, she knew all the proper wand movements and pronunciations for basic spells and she already had an exceptional ability to brew complex potions.

Besides her academic studies, her mother continued with her private lessons. She taught (Y/N) many things including how to walk proudly, with a slight trace of arrogance and superiority, giving off an aura of confidence. Most importantly, she taught her the importance of staying quiet and listening. (“Knowledge is power,” her mother had said in a characteristic cold tone. “You should analyze and remember, but never give your own opinion.”)

(Y/N) learned with ease and never questioned a thing, which pleased her parents. They’d created a complaint child, a perfect daughter. Or so they thought. Because, although (Y/N) maintained her outwards appearance of a pureblood elitist, she was slowly suffocating on the inside. She was young but even then she knew there was something wrong with her parent’s beliefs and ideals. She never voiced out her most innermost thoughts, she knew better than to disagree with them. After all, arguments with her parents always ended in harsh words, icy cold glares, and severe punishment.

If it hadn’t been for Quidditch (Y/N) would’ve possibly lost herself to madness. Her mother was all against it. She believed it was barbaric, that no lady should be flying in a broom much less playing such a violent sport. “Quidditch is for men and no daughter of mine will ever play it,” she’d snapped at (Y/N) the first time she ever asked for permission. But, unexpectedly, her father had authorized her to play and, in the end, he had the final word on everything that happened around the house. Her mother had been forced to bite her tongue, swallow her opinions and watch with disdain. (Y/N) had been extremely lucky. The only reason she’d even been allowed to mount a broom had been that her father, in his youth, had been considered one of the best players of his generation. Since she was an only child, and her father had no son, there was no one else but her to carry out his legacy.

Sirius was the only other reason (Y/N) was able to maintain her sanity. They saw each other every couple of weeks when their families would get together for supper and their parents would talk about ‘important Ministry business’. It was only in those moments, alone with Sirius in his room, that (Y/N) felt as if she could truly be herself. They were both very similar in the most unexpected ways, rebels to the very core. The only difference in their defiance laid in the fact that Sirius was very outspoken about it while (Y/N) never uttered a word. He had bravery she could only ever wish to achieve, her instinct of self-preservation was way too strong.

Naively, (Y/N) thought it would always be that way.

Things changed once they both started Hogwarts.

ii. year one

���Be a Slytherin,” her mother said as she arranged the collar of (Y/N)’s shirt for what seemed to be the millionth time. She wasn’t looking directly at (Y/N), too focused on the task at hand, but the girl caught the stern look on her mother’s face anyways. It was a dead giveaway that she wouldn’t like the outcome if she was to be sorted into any other house.

Once she was pleased with the look of (Y/N)’s clothes her mother backed away. Looking directly into her daughter’s eyes, she said, “Befriend other purebloods, this is of most importance as we need to establish alliances and start looking for possible suitors.” Her mother then proceeded to recite a list of last names, forcing her to repeat them from memory.

(Carrow, Crouch, Lestrange, Greengrass, Nott, Malfoy, Mulciber, Rosier…)

Looking up at her, (Y/N) decided not to comment on the fact that she had just turned eleven, that there was still time to look for suitors in the future. She wasn’t in the mood for one of her mother’s scolding.

As she opened her mouth to give her last rule, her features darkened and her mouth curled up in disgust. “Stay away from mudbloods, half-bloods, and blood traitors. Our last name will not be tainted and tarnished because you decide to go around being friendly,” she spat the last word. “If you decide to make friends be sure that they are from the superior blood status.”

(Y/N) swallowed down the burning desire to bicker and nodded her head.

“Go on then,” her mother said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Make your father and I proud.”

She bid her mother goodbye— her father had been too busy at the Ministry to accompany them. The older woman just offered a tight-lipped smile before disapparating.

Sighing, she looked around.

Even surrounded by a bunch of wizarding families, laughter, and smiles, (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel extremely lonely.

It didn’t last long, though. The feeling dissipated the moment she caught a glimpse of an all-familiar black hair and grey eyes. She broke out into a real smile, making her way towards him.

When she was close enough (Y/N) startled him by grabbing him by the shoulders rather roughly.

Sirius turned in surprise, ready to start a fight with whoever the person that had bothered him had been. His face, however, softened as soon as he realized it was just her.

“Hey.”

His eyes were shining with excitement and she couldn’t help but hope she would soon feel the same way. Her mother’s words were too fresh on her mind, her presence still lingered, and so (Y/N) wasn’t able to feel the enthusiasm of going to Hogwarts just yet.

“Hi,” she replied, not saying another word before tugging at him by the elbow.

Confused, he followed behind until they arrived at an empty carriage.

“What is it?” he asked her, noticing the way her face fell slightly once they were away of prying eyes.

“Mum.”

She needn’t say more, Sirius nodded in understatement.

(Y/N) tapped her feet in nervousness, a tick that she would’ve suppressed had it been anyone but him. Then, she asked the question that’d been harboring on the back of her mind.

“What’ll happen if we are sorted into different houses?”

Sirius looked at her in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected those words and didn’t quite know how to respond.

The train whistled in the background, announcing its departure.

She’d been thinking about it for some weeks now. It was a big possibility, especially because she could perceive in him traces of Gryffindor mixed along with those of Slytherin— those he’d gotten from his parent, those she knew he wished he didn’t have. Besides, she knew him well enough to know that, if the possibility arose, he would choose any other house just to anger his family.

“It’ll be fine,” Sirius responded.

But it wouldn’t be.

Not if Sirius went out of his way to rebel against everything the Black family stood for— something he’d hinted he would do once he was out of the grasps of his parents. If Sirius went as far as she knew he was willing to go he would be branded a blood traitor and her parents would never allow her to be even in the proximity of him again.

And (Y/N), well, she couldn’t follow his steps. There was no one other than her to carry the family name, she had no siblings. She didn’t have Sirius’s strength either. Her parents would kill her if she ever stepped out of line or, if they would feeling generous that day, they would resort to banishing and disinheriting her.

Self-consciously, so unlike herself, she asked quietly, “Will we still be friends?”

Sirius laughed as if the question she’d asked was the most ridiculous one he’d ever heard. He reached forward to tap her forehead and still chucking said, “Don’t be daft.”

That lightened the heaviness she was feeling in her chest. Only he could make her relax by being annoying. With an eye roll and a ghost smile, she went on to flick his ear, “Don’t be rude.”

He yelped at her action, rubbing the spot.

“Now, that’s rude.”

She raised her eyebrows, daring at him to retaliate. She knew he wouldn’t do it, not in that moment at least. 

She became quiet again, mind going back to her mother’s words.

“My parents will never let me be friends with you if you become a…” she trailed off, not wanting to pronounce the slur.

But he understood perfectly; a blood traitor.

He winced, knowing that she was right. And, despite his parent’s clear instructions to behave, he would most likely become a blood traitor. Sirius had decided, as soon as he’d stepped out of Grimmauld Place, that he would be friends with whoever he wished. He would not judge based on blood status, he wouldn’t be like his parents. 

Sirius also knew that (Y/N) would never do anything against what her parents instructed. She had a rebel within her but was far too scared to ever act out. (He would’ve been scared as well if his father had been Mr. (Y/L/N), the man had a way of making adults freeze up in terror with a single look).

Still…

“What your parents don’t know won’t hurt them, will it?” There was a glint of mischief in his eyes. “This friendship is forever, (Y/N). I promise.”

And she believed him because he’d never broken a promise to her. He sounded so confident, so sure, that some of his courage filled her body.

“Okay,” she found herself replying.

In the future, (Y/N) would assert that she was a Slytherin down to her very core and Sirius would remind her of this exact moment. Unbeknownst to her, she’d shown Gryffindor bravery. For the first time in her life, she agreed to something that her parents would’ve never allowed; she swore to remain friends with Sirius Black, no matter what.

It worked out brilliantly mainly because they shared a collective brain cell (one that (Y/N) had the majority of the time).

“Just follow my lead,” he’d told her.

And she had.

It resulted in them never addressing each other in public. It was best if her parents thought they’d drifted apart due to their ‘difference in beliefs’. The decision saved (Y/N) from a long, most likely nasty and disapproving, letter from her mother. It was also pertinent that they were never seen together because the pureblood community was tight-knit— everyone knew everyone and everyone talked about the things they saw or heard around —and her mother would’ve found out about their friendship in the blink of an eye. This pretended estrangement also helped Sirius’s image; he was someone that stood against everything his parents were and believed in (and that included Slytherins).

His first letter arrived on the first Friday of the term. She found it within the pages of her Charms book, neatly tucked. The handwriting was messy, too familiar.

10:30. Astronomy Tower. Tomorrow.

They would meet every Saturday night, every time in a different place to avoid getting caught, and they would talk about everything that had happened over the week.

It was halfway through the first term that Sirius’s friends became curious, maybe a little suspicious, of the reason he would slip away at night once every week. James tried to ask, but Sirius had only shrugged off the question resulting in a pouting James Potter.

With time Sirius gained the reputation of being quite the prankster. His friends and him, the self-proclaimed ‘Marauders’, would roam around the school causing mayhem as they went. She, on the other hand, followed into her family’s footsteps flawlessly. She would eventually earn the title of ‘Ice Princess’ derived from her cold and reserved attitude towards everyone (perhaps except her closest friends), the impassive look she wore at all times (as if she was bored and had much better things to do) and her renowned last name (which made her part of the pureblood royalty).

They were both good at selling their façade (him of a rebellious boy and her of an elitist girl) that the mere idea of them getting along would’ve been hilarious to anyone. No one ever suspected that throughout the school year— and all the years after their first one at Hogwarts —Sirius Black, who was always very vocal about loathing Slytherin, hung out with a girl that belonged to the ‘enemy’ house, one that seemed to be the epitome of pureblood supremacist. They never would’ve guessed that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) broke into laughter once a week with her best friend, a guy who stood against everything she was supposed to stand for.

iii. year five

They’d been at Hogwarts for almost four years now and there hadn’t been a single time they’d interacted with each other in front of anyone else. Her parents, who’d voiced their displeasure about the oldest Black, remained oblivious to their daughter’s secret meetings with him.

“I’ll be catching the Snitch before your other best friend has the chance to blink.”

He chuckled, leaning against the wall. “Jealous of my friendship with Prongs, are you?” He mocked, eyes glinting the way they always did when he was messing around with her.

Slytherin was playing against Gryffindor for the Quidditch Cup and the tension had been brewing and increasing for the last couple of weeks. The hostility, which was standard between the two houses, has turned into taunting and hassling. Fights broke out in the corridors, students were hexing each other (tongues were being turned into horns, someone had ended with their feet stuck to the second floor’s corridor for over two hours) and every Professor was begging for this to be over (even McGonagall, who was passionate about Quidditch, thought that things were getting out out hand).

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, leaning back against the wall. “You wish.” She crossed her eyes over her chest, not backing away as she taunted, “I’m just saying I’m a much more talented Seeker than Potter.”

“Wanna bet on that?”

Sirius knew (Y/N) was a tremendous Quidditch player. She’d played two years as a Chaser, being the highest scoring player at the end of both seasons, and the following two seasons (including the current one) she’d played as a Seeker, a position in which she also excelled at. By the end of their fourth year, she’d replaced Emma Vanity as team captain, becoming one of the youngest captains Hogwarts had ever had. (Y/N) was agile and fast, never afraid to get her elbows out and be rough if needed. She had her father’s talent, she was perhaps even more talented than him. Nevertheless, James Potter was also a terrific player, and if there was someone who stood a chance at beating her it was him.

“Winner gets 10 Galleons,” he incentivized, raising his eyebrows.

“And the loser owes the winner a favor,” she threw back at him, cocking her head to the side, daring him to back off.

That made him hesitate, if only a little. He knew he did not want to be in debt with her (he’d learned it the hard way) but in the end, he was a Gryffindor for a reason and his pride won the battle. Whistling under his breath, he extended the hand for her to shake.

“You’re on.”

They stayed in the Kitchens for some more time, sipping on the hot chocolate that the house-elves had provided, before bidding each other goodnight and making their way to their respective Common Rooms.

The day of the match (Y/N) mounted her broom and shook away the jitters that always appeared before a game. The only thing on her mind was catching the Snitch.

(She knew that the teasing from Sirius would be endless if she was to lose. She didn’t intend on letting that happen).

“Play nice,” Madame Hooch said, looking from one captain to the other. With a louder tone, she added, “That goes for all of you.” (Y/N) didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered longer on the Slytherin team. She couldn’t blame Madam Hooch for distrusting her team; they played rough, borderline dirty, and they weren’t going to stop now, not when they were playing against their rival house.

The Snitch disappeared as soon as it was released, followed by the two Bludgers.

Sirius, mounted on his broom, sent her a discreet wink that went unnoticed by everyone and mouthed, “May the best man win.”

I’m winning this, was her last thought before the Quaffle went up in the air and the whistle announced the beginning of the game.

It hadn’t been an easy game so far. The Gryffindor offense was lightning quick and the Slytherin defense was being brutal. Both teams were out for blood.

Thirty minutes had passed without a sign of the Snitch.

(Y/N) located herself a little higher than the other players which allowed her to have a better view of the pitch and avoid the Bludgers.

She could barely hear the commentator over the screams of the crowd— they were being loud. It wasn’t just the last game of the year but it was a really close one. It would go down to whoever caught the Snitch.

“Gryffindor scores another goal!” She managed to hear the commentator say as the sea of red and gold went crazy. “Oh, that’s… for a moment there I thought Rosier was going to fall off his broom but he manages to stay up. What a pity, it would’ve been hilarious.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and located Rosier. He did look a little bit shaken up and embarrassed.

From where she was situated she had a perfect view of Sirius who was having the time of his life blasting Bludgers directly at her teammates. Today, for whichever reason, he’d seemed to have taken the likes for sending all Bludgers that came his way towards Evan Rosier, which explained their reason the guy had almost fallen off his broom.

Rosier yelled something at Sirius, most likely an obscenity, and Sirius only laughed in response. He thrived on being a nuisance and Rosier’s annoyance would only fuel him to keep going.

A couple of minutes later another Bludger was sent Rosier’s way and this time (Y/N) couldn’t help the snicker that fell from her lips when she saw his surprised expression. The Bludger had missed him by millimeters. She shouldn’t have been entertained by her own teammate’s struggle but (Y/N) wasn’t particularly fond of him. They were acquaintances, due to her mother’s request, but the guy was vile and barely tolerable. The only reason he had even made the team was that he was a very talented Chaser. She disliked the guy, but she also wanted her team to win.

It was only when she turned to look at the other Slytherin Chasers that she caught a glimpse of the unmistakable golden glimmer of the Snitch. Before she could even process her actions she was diving down.

Too focused on not letting the little ball out of her sight, she didn’t notice Potter’s presence by her side until he shoved her with his shoulder.

Clenching her jaw, she shoved him back harder before leaning forward.

The wind was blowing harshly against her face, making her eyes tear up, but the discomfort wasn’t enough to distract her.

Potter went to shove her again but she had anticipated the action. Before he could touch her, she moved aside. He lost his balance and that allowed her to dive down faster, tilting forward to take the golden ball in her hands.

“(Y/L/N) catches the Snitch! Slytherin wins!”

Half of the crowd went mad, while the other half looked seriously disappointed. There were shouts of excitement complimented by some booing.

It didn’t faze her. She smirked as she landed, holding the Snitch high in the air for the crowd to see. The Slytherin stands went crazy as she bowed mockingly, the smirk permanently etched to her face. (She was “a proper show off” when it came to Quidditch as Sirius would kindly point out every time he got the chance).

There were some pats in the back, hugs, and congratulations. (Y/N) was smiling, something unusual for her but then again one doesn’t win the House Cup every day. Once the cheering died down she turned around to look for Sirius, ready to send him a taunting look. She didn’t find her best friend. Instead, she managed to spot Evan Rosier snatching a bat out of the hands of one of the Slytherin Beaters.

Even from afar, she could tell he was fuming in anger. His face was burning red, mainly out of anger. She saw the way his eyes narrowed when he looked to his right. Following his gaze, she realized just who he was glowering at.

Sirius Black.

She didn’t have to keep looking to know what he was about to do.

Her legs started moving before she could even finish processing what she was seeing.

People had made their way down from the stands to congratulate the players so (Y/N) was forced to push past the crowd. She had to make it to Sirius before Rosier.

Potter and Sirius were conversing, both of them appeared to still be buzzing from the adrenaline of the game. Neither of them noticed the tall, raging Slytherin boy that made his way towards them.

Men, honestly.

She arrived just in time to stop the bat that was swinging down, full power, to bash Sirius’s skull.

Her hand immediately started aching but she was too angry to notice the pain. Her eyes were looking up at Rosier with contempt and the older guy cowered slightly at the infamous (Y/L/N) look.

James had looked up just in time to watch her step in. He’d gasped slightly, pulling Sirius out of the way instantly. Both Marauders, now fully conscious of the situation, glanced between the two Slytherins. They waited to see who would strike out first.

No one, other than Potter and Sirius, was paying much attention but (Y/N) found that she wouldn’t have cared if she’d had a whole crowd watching. She was seething, jaw clenched, grip tightening on the bat.

This thick-headed idiot had just brought out a side of her that was usually tamed and under control. He’d tried to injure her best friend and she was not having it.

(Y/N) was usually cold and logical— a think first, act later kind of person —but not right now. No, right now she was acting on primal protective instinct.

They stood that way for a moment; her hand in the bat, eyes filled with hostility towards her teammate and Rosier, who was taller by a couple of inches and certainly bigger, awaiting her reaction.

She pulled the bat away from his hand with ease, tossing it aside. Then, (Y/N) proceeded to push him in the chest with two fingers. He didn’t stumble, but he did back away slightly.

“Are you out of your goddammed mind?!”

He pressed his lips at the tone she was using, one that was cold and unfriendly. He’d never seen her this livid.

Some people turned around to see what was happening, but since (Y/N)’s face was stoic, making it seem like she was just talking with Rosier, they turned away with disinterest, too invested in celebrating or congratulating the players.

“He kept sending Bludgers my way all the fucking game,” Rosier justified with a hiss and she couldn’t help the scoff that left her lips.

What a pathetic excuse.

“He’s a Beater. That’s what he’s supposed to do, you dimwit,” she spat the last words. Her hands were clenched by her side, she was keeping herself from tearing him apart.

He flinched slightly at her tone, not used to this (Y/L/N) at all. She was usually composed and imperturbable.

James Potter was as surprised, if not more. Any other Slytherin would’ve let Rosier crack Sirius’s skull without hesitation. He couldn’t comprehend what had made (Y/L/N) intervene. For the first time, she didn’t seem unbothered. He caught a glimpse behind the mask she wore every day. Something had made her lose her temper and she looked as if she was wondering which way of torture would make Rosier suffer the most. She looked about ready to shove him off the Astronomy Tower.

Rosier’s expression changed as if he had suddenly remembered himself. He pulled a sneer and taunted, “Why do you even care if he gets hurt, (Y/L/N)? Got a little crush of Black?”

That was a cute attempt at trying to provoke her.

Her lip curled up mockingly as she closed her features off. She straightened up, “Listen, asshole, I didn’t get us this far for you to get us disqualified.” Her intention was to push the narrative that this had everything to do with Quidditch and nothing to do with Black. “You have problems, you fix them during the game, you hear?”

Rosier looked away, jaw clenched.

“Anything else?” he asked sarcastically.

She wasn’t in the mood, so she took another jab at him. “Yes,” she walked closer to him, chin raising up in defiance. “If you want to fight after the game make sure the person you’re fighting doesn’t have their back towards you. We Slytherins aren’t cowards.”

Rosier’s expression darkened, but (Y/N) didn’t care. He couldn’t touch her and they both knew it.

“You pull one more stunt like this one and you’re off my team.”

He opened his mouth to complain about the ultimatum but the look she gave him made him shut up. He huffed in irritation before letting out through gritted teeth a small “whatever” and leaving.

(Y/N) glared at his back and if looks could kill he would’ve been dead and buried. She let out a breath, willing the anger to leave her body. When she turned around she was greeted by a gaping James Potter and a smirking Sirius Black.

James must’ve imagined the way the harshness of her glare decreased when she looked at Padfoot because there was no way in hell the Ice Princess had just softened, if ever so slightly, by the sight of Sirius Black. He shook his head to shake out the thoughts, still gaping at her.

“You look ridiculous, Potter,” she deadpanned.

James caught the way she was rubbing her right hand. Although her face didn’t show any pain, the skin was visibly damaged.

When he looked back at her face he found her eyes had hardened and her poker face had made an appearance once again.

Yes, he must’ve imagined the softness in (Y/L/N)’s eyes.

He closed his mouth, still too astounded to retort something sarcastic as he usually would’ve. 

She looked between them, sending a brief nod at Sirius, before leaving them to find her team.

A few days later, she met Sirius in an empty classroom by the sixth floor. Her hand was wrapped in a bandage but she couldn’t really feel any pain anymore. (Y/N) was more interested in her 10 Galleons. She was also beaming because now Sirius owed her a favor.

The moment his eyes laid on her a smirk appeared on his face.

“My little firecracker.”

She rolled her eyes, unable to stop the ghost smile from appearing on her lips. He didn’t miss the amusement in her eyes.

“My damsel in distress,” she joked back, snickering at the blank look he gave her.

“Your fight with Rosier was about the most amazing thing I’ve seen all year,” he told her as she made her way towards him. “And, believe me, I’ve seen a lot.” Somehow, she didn’t doubt that.

She shrugged in a halfhearted manner, “Couldn’t let you get killed. Salazar knows you would’ve come back just to annoy me to death.”

“I would’ve,” Sirius agreed. Nudging her with his shoulder, he teased, “But admit it, you would want me to come back. If I died you would miss me too much.”

She scoffed jokingly, “Most certainly not.”

“I think you would,” he replied, taking her hand in his. (Y/N) didn’t comment on his action, letting him trace his thumb over her open palm. “I think you can’t live in a world without me.”

Pulling away, she crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the heat she felt rush through her body. 

“Whatever.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, resting his cheek at the top of her head.

“I wouldn’t be able to live in a world without you, either.”

She didn’t know where the vulnerability had come from, but she allowed herself to melt into his embrace.

She reckoned he’d never sounded so sincere.

iv. year six

She’d never sent him a letter before. Sirius was always the one to send the time and the place. But, as she stared down at her mother’s impeccable handwriting, rereading the words, (Y/N) knew that she had to see him. The tension was clawing at her insides, she felt herself growing anxious.

Astronomy tower. 11:30. Tonight.

Hoping that he would show up, (Y/N) slipped out of her Common Room silently.

She walked the corridors with nimbleness, knowing exactly where to hide when she heard footsteps or the hushed voices of the prefects making their rounds.

(The Marauders would’ve been proud).

The place was empty when she arrived and she opted for picking the letter out of her pocket and reading it once more.

Emotions settled at her throat, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep the tears at bay. It wasn’t sadness that she felt, but rather frustration and helplessness.

She stilled when she heard movement.

Quietly, she backed into a corner, fetching her wand from her robes and slowing her breath.

If Filch caught her out of bed, she was done for.

But, it wasn’t Filch.

Sirius appeared out of nowhere, letting the cloak fall behind him.

“You’re an idiot, Black,” she whispered and he turned to meet her. “Someday you’re going to give me a heart attack.”

He grinned, watching as she slipped out of the shadows. “You’ll get used to it.”

She seriously doubted it.

(Y/N) had learned about the invisibility cloak a few months ago. He’d let it slip when talking about one of their pranks and she’d been able to tell by the way his face changed that he had instantly felt guilty, like he had betrayed James’s trust. She’d sworn not to say a word about it and Sirius had relaxed at her words. She’d never broken a promise to him.

After that, he’d used the cloak more often— it was easier for him to slip past people and into secret passageways when hidden from the eye— and this was the fifth time he’d managed to startle her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he turned to retrieve the cloak from the floor.

He started to fold it but looked up when she placed a piece of parchment in front of him.

Tentatively, he took it, observing the way she looked away from him and bit her cheek.

(Y/N) walked towards the railing, grasping hard with both of her hands. She looked at the moon. It was close to becoming a waning crescent.

Behind her, Sirius was muttering as he read. 

He’d always done that.

“…inform you…”

“you should be pleased…”

“…betrothal.”

His breath hitched.

(Y/N) shut her eyes closed and swallowed hard.

“Oh, love,” he mumbled softly.

With a sigh, she turned around to face him.

“Come here,” he said affectionately when he saw the way her face shifted with frustration.

She allowed herself to be embraced by him. It was the only place she ever felt like home.

“I knew this was coming,” she admitted quietly. It was what her mother had raised her for; to marry her off to a powerful, well-established pureblood family and have her provide heirs. But, even when it was expected, she couldn’t help the rush of disappointment she’d felt. Her parents had always taken away her decision to choose and, had it been anything else, she probably wouldn’t have minded. But her heart belonged to someone now.

It hurt like nothing ever had before.

“It should’ve been us.”

The words were muffled by his shirt but Sirius heard them as clear as day.

Something tightened in his chest and he pulled her closer— she was right, after all. Had he stayed in line and followed his parents’ footsteps he would’ve been the only acceptable suitor in Mr. (Y/L/N)’s eyes. But he hadn’t. And now she would be forced to endure a loveless marriage to appease her parents.

She backed away from him and looked up. He’d expected some sort of resentment in her eyes but there was only melancholy, a wondering of what could’ve been.

“I should’ve done what you did,” she said, looking away. “I should’ve stood up against them.”

She ran a hand through her hair, pressing her lips together.

The feeling of not being in control of her own life rattled her. She loathed it. Lately, she’d been feeling that way more often than not. (Her time at Hogwarts was running out).

He reached out for her, tenderly holding her hand. He searched her eyes before asking in a hushed whisper, “You would’ve married me?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Not even a single ounce of hesitation.

Her heart was his and he’d just found out.

Sirius pulled her closer and she stumbled slightly, her hand pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

His eyes, those beautiful grey eyes, were filled with melancholia.

If only he’d been obedient.

She moved her hand to try to wipe away the sadness from his features. Desolation didn’t suit Sirius Black.

If only she’d been braver.

He turned to press a kiss to the back of her hand.

If only they could fix it all.

His eyes trailed down to her lips.

“I can’t,” she murmured. “It’ll only make being with Mulciber much harder.”

(It’ll only break my heart much more, she thought.)

But she was oh so close. If he dipped his head, their lips would touch.

“Just gift me one kiss,” he implored into the silence of the night. She could feel his breath delicately caressing her skin. “It might be our first and last.”

Her heart might’ve shattered.

If, if, if.

Maybe time would fix it all. 

They could only hope. 

She reached to cup his jaw, fingers barely grazing his skin, and she stood on her tippy toes.

Their lips brushed against each other, a tear fell down the side of her cheek.

This might be our first and last.

“No one would ever have a chance to win my heart”, she thought to herself later that night as she laid wide awake in her bed. “Not as long Sirius Black exists.”

Some weeks later Adrian Mulciber found himself being the main target of one of the Marauder’s most wicked pranks.

It did little to ease the aching in Sirius’s heart.

v. year seven

Peter wasn’t athletic, not even a little bit (he struggled to even get on a broom, for Godric’s sake). That, however, didn’t stop him from running all the way from the third-floor corridor to the Great Hall to deliver gossip to his friends.

He placed a hand on the table as he arrived, trying to catch his breath. He was sweating massively and could feel his lungs about to collapse.

“You okay there, Wormtail?” James teased.

Peter gasped before taking a chug of water.

“Mulciber and (Y/L/N) are having a huge fight,” he managed to spit out between gulps of air.

Sirius’s head snapped up immediately, all interest in his food was suddenly gone.

“(Y/L/N)?”

Remus looked at Sirius with confusion, thinking that his question came from not recognizing the last name.

“She’s the Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team,” Remus offered only to receive an offhand mumble from Padfoot.

“I know who she is, Moony.”

His whole attention was placed on the smallest Marauder.

“Wormtail, talk.” There was a certain urgency in his tone which Remus thought was quite unusual.

James also noticed because he frowned at his best mate’s tone. He shared a look with Remus who shrugged in response. Prongs was about to question Sirius but Peter started talking and they all immediately gave him their undivided attention (they weren’t gossipmongers, James would say, they liked to be informed).

Wormtail talked about how Mulciber had said some snarky comment at a muggle-born and how (Y/N) had stepped in. That had started the discussion. Then, he’d raised his voice which had caused her to snap back at him.

“That led to the full blast argument they’re having,” Peter finished. The redness was disappearing from his face, he could breathe properly again. “There’s a small crowd watching and—”

Sirius interrupted in an almost frantic manner, “They’re still going at it?”

Peter nodded his head with enthusiasm. 

Before he could think Sirius had dropped his fork and was running out of the Great Hall. The Marauders had shared a look of confusion before blasting behind him, too bewildered by his unusual behavior to even question it.

Sirius rushed past people, body on autopilot.

(Y/N) was the only thing on his mind.

He was worried because he knew Adrian Mulciber and he knew what he was capable of doing to anyone who stood in his way. Girlfriend or not, his anger had no limits when he was pushed past a breaking point and, well, Sirius also knew (Y/N) could be hot-tempered when it came to Mulciber.

He reached the corridor in record time. From where he was standing Sirius could hear the heated argument.

He couldn’t see a thing because, just like Wormtail had said, the couple was surrounded by a crowd— one much larger than the one he’d expected but, then again, one doesn’t see these two fighting in public every day. He could, however, hear them clear enough.

“Fine then,” (Y/N) said. Just from the sound of her voice, Sirius could tell that she was more than irritated. “We are over.”

There was a collective gasp.

Sirius pushed past people, not even aware that his friends were following behind (Peter once again gasping for air). He halted when he heard two smacks followed by a pained yelp. It was silent for a split second. Then, commotion.

The sound of people helped him regain the agility to move. He shoved everyone with more urgency, coming to a stop when he viewed the scene in front of him.

Mulciber was being held back by Snape and Lucius, the murderous look in his eyes directed towards the younger girl. (Y/N) sat on the floor, looking back at her now ex-boyfriend. She was completely nonplussed. Her hand was pressed to her cheek, tears brimming in her eyes. The slap must’ve been with a close fist because it’d made her mouth bleed and her cheekbone was swelling.

Sirius made his way towards her, completely ignorant to those who were watching the scene. Fuck them and fuck it if (Y/N)’s parents found out about their relationship; his priority was her.

He kneeled beside her and she immediately leaned towards him, her body reacting to his presence. Softly, Sirius grabbed her head and went to cradle it, pressing it to his chest.

Knowing Sirius was there, holding her, made (Y/N) crumble. Realization of what had just happened sunk in and she whimpered, face hidden from prying eyes between his robes. The shock had prevented her from hurting, but as it went away she found that her injuries were starting to ache.

Sirius pulled away after a second, softly cupping her face, making sure not to touch the wound. He moved a strand of hair from her face, gently caressing her unharmed cheek. 

The Marauders were completely astounded, as was everyone else present. No one had ever seen Sirius Black being so tender and caring towards anyone, much less a Slytherin.

Remus tried to look for an explanation but his mind was blank, he just couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. James, on the other hand, had a flashback to their fifth year. (Y/N) had prevented Sirius from having his brains bashed in by a wooden bat. Her eyes had softened when she’d looked at him. James had many questions.

“I’m okay,” (Y/N) managed to choke out, still dazed by the hit. She bit the inside of her cheek to prevent tears. She refused to cry in front of Mulciber.

Once she’d said those words, once Sirius was sure she was alright, something shifted in his brain. All he could see was red. He was raging and the change in his eyes told (Y/N) just how furious he was.

Not wanting to cause a bigger scene she went to grab his hand, but Sirius was quicker. He stood up and turned around slowly.

Mulciber, who’d just managed to release himself from his friends’ hold, said about the worst thing he could’ve said at the moment.

“Step aside, Black. Let me teach that bitch who owns her.”

Sirius went from furious to downright homicidal.

His whole body felt hot with anger and all he could think about was (Y/N)’s pained expression, the tears in her eyes, the blood trickling down her lips, and the bruise on her pretty face.

He was protective of her by nature.

He snapped.

Before Mulciber could even react Sirius had thrown his fist against his face. There was a loud crack and another collective gasp.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Mulciber composed himself quickly and with a fierce look in his eyes went to throw a punch back at Sirius.

Wands were forgotten. This was personal.

Mulciber managed to strike Sirius, just in the ribs, but the Gryffindor appeared numb to the pain because he didn’t even react. Instead, Sirius threw a left hook to Mulciber’s head followed by a jab directly at his nose.

James and Remus reacted quickly, going to pull their friend away. The look on Sirius’s eyes showed that he was not going to stop until Mulciber was laying on the ground half dead. They’d never seen him this livid before. (For the first time James understood why other people thought of Sirius as intimidating.)

Snape and Malfoy also drew Mulciber back, but he shook them away.

“You have no idea what you just started, Black.” Blood was oozing down his mouth and he spat it on the floor.

Sirius smirked condescendingly, eyes still shining with a murderous glint. He didn’t seem afraid in the slightest. “Bring it on, you disgusting little piece of—”

His sentence was cut off by a booming voice.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

(Y/N) recognized McGonagall’s voice immediately and, for some unknown reason, shied away.

“Mr. Mulciber! Mr. Black!” She sounded indignant like she couldn’t believe they had engaged in a physical fight. “Can either of you explain the means of this?”

The boys were still glowering at each other and neither offered any explanation.

McGonagall was about to say something when she caught a glance of (Y/N).

“Ms. (Y/L/N)!” she exclaimed, quickly making her way towards the Slytherin girl.

With some vacillation (Y/N) allowed the Professor to inspect her injuries. She could see the way Professor McGonagall’s brain began to work. She looked back at the boys and then at her, piecing together what’d happened.

She gave (Y/N) a calculating look, almost as if she was trying to read her mind. That resulted in the student looking away, embarrassed.

“Mr. Lupin if you would be kind enough to escort Ms. (Y/L/N) to the Infirmary.”

Remus was quick to nod his head and he made his way towards (Y/N). Had it been any other situation he might’ve been slightly nervous about touching her, but she allowed him to place an arm around her waist without a single complaint. There was no sneer, no threatening look, she simply placed her arm around his shoulder and leaned in on him, trying to fight away the nauseating feeling created by the pain.

“The rest of you back to your activities.”

The crowd dispersed, but not without throwing looks over their shoulders as they went.

There was just Sirius, James, Mulciber, and Malfoy left behind.

Sirius stared at (Y/N)’s retreating figure, jaw clenching in anger.

He was going to kill Mulciber.

“Fifty points from Slytherin for attacking a fellow student and two months of detention with Mr. Filch for you Adrian.” Mulciber just scoffed and rolled his eyes. The Professor paid him no mind and continued, “Mr. Malfoy if you would please take him to Madam Pomfrey.”

“I don’t need to see her. I’m fine.” Mulciber spat, turning around and pulling Malfoy by the elbow.

McGonagall rolled her eyes at the theatrics before turning back to look at Sirius. She found both him and Potter backing away, trying to escape her wrath.

She had them freezing mid-step with a single stern look. 

To James’s surprise, she didn’t look particularly mad.

“Twenty points from Gryffindor.”

Both Marauders could tell that it pained her to take the points away, even if her face remained impassive.

“He laid his hand on her,” Sirius found himself arguing. He couldn’t help it, the adrenaline hadn’t left his body yet and he was still shaking in anger. He shook his head, “I was not going to let that slide.”

The Professor shook her head, sighing.

“I understand why you did it, Black. I do. But there is a no-tolerance policy for physical altercations.”

He opened his mouth, shaking his head in disbelief, but she spoke before he could.

“Professor Dumbledore will be hearing about Adrian Mulciber’s actions and they will not go unpunished.” Noticing the fire in his eyes, she added, “Do not go around playing hero.”

McGonagall gave him a pointed look. She knew him too well.

Sirius pressed his lips to swallow the desire to tell her that he would do it again without hesitation. Looking again, he nodded his head.

“Potter—”

“I will take him to the Infirmary, Professor,” James assured to which McGonagall nodded her head and turned around, possibly to make her way to Dumbledore’s office.

“Pads...” James started but Sirius just shook his head, placing his thumb to his temple and rubbing it in circles. The adrenaline was slowly leaving his body, his ribs had begun aching and he had just gotten a headache.

“Not now.”

And, although James was about to burst with questions, he remained silent all the way to the Infirmary. However, he couldn’t stop himself from sending side-eye glances at his best mate. 

James came to a sudden stop when Sirius froze in front of him. Looking over his shoulder he realized Padfoot was looking at (Y/L/N).

Her cheekbone had swollen and it painted her skin a dark purple color. There was also an angry red mark on her cheek, but her mouth wasn’t bleeding anymore.

Madam Pomfrey was tending to her wounds, gently pushing her chin up with her fingers as she inspected the damage. Remus stood to the side, shifting awkwardly on his feet.

They managed to catch the end of their conversation.

“…you’ll probably have a nasty bruise on your cheek for a while but it’ll make the swelling go away.”

She excused herself to look for the potion required.

It was only when she left that (Y/N)’s eyes found them.

“Sirius.”

The words left her mouth as a shaky whimper.

Sirius’s gaze softened immediately, the rage that had previously consumed him was gone in an instant. The gentle look in his eyes made the emotions that she’d pushed to the back of her mind resurface. Shame, embarrassment, pain.

It was suddenly hard to breathe.

Sirius saw her bite the inside of her cheek and he noticed the glazing over of her eyes. He knew she was a second away from breaking down.

He rushed towards her and without even processing it she’d stood from the bed and stumbled into him.

His hand went to cup the back of her head, holding her close.

To Remus’s and James’s astonishment Sirius began to carefully run his fingers through her hair as a way to soothe her.

(Y/N) began crying. Sirius provided comfort and safety and, protected in his embrace, she allowed herself to shatter.

It’d been years since the last time she’d properly cried.

“I’ve got you, love.”

His voice was soft, barely above a mumble. It was a tone that he reserved only for her.

They stayed there for what seemed like forever but probably wasn’t more than a couple of minutes. The sobbing became sniffles and once she’d gathered herself (Y/N) pulled away, wiping away the tears.

“I’m okay,” she told him (or rather told herself). At his unconvinced stare, she reached for his hand and squeezed it, “Truly.”

Remus coughed and it was only then that they remembered they had an audience.

Over her head, Sirius had a perfect look at Moony. He was looking at the pair with curiosity, head slightly tilted to the side as if he was deep in thought. (Y/N), on the other hand, had a perfect view of James Potter. He was gaping, eyes wide. It was obvious his brain wasn’t processing what he was observing.

“You look ridiculous, Potter,” she informed him, voice softer than she probably intended. Upon realizing the lack of bite in her words she guarded herself making some of the gentleness of her face melt away. Still, her eyes weren’t as cold and calculating as they usually would’ve been. She looked exhausted.

Sirius chuckled weakly, moving forward to wrap an arm around (Y/N) and resting his chin at the top of her head.

Knowing he got clingy when worried (Y/N) didn’t put up a fight and accepted his embrace once more.

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” James said. He turned to look at Remus, “Moony is this real?”

Lupin nodded, “Very real, Prongs.” He also looked visibly astounded but was doing a much better job at hiding it. 

James crossed his arms over his chest.

“Are you going to explain?” he asked directly at his best mate.

Sirius looked down at (Y/N) and rose his eyebrows. It seemed as if he was asking for permission. They had some sort of mental conversation that ended with the girl shrugging in a ‘go ahead’ manner.

With a sigh, Padfoot adjusted (Y/N) in his arms.

“It’s complicated.”

The Slytherin nodded her head in agreement.

But both James and Remus gave them a pointed look. They had time and they weren’t going to accept that as an answer. They needed to understand. (James really believed his head would explode if someone didn’t make sense of the situation at hand). 

Sirius carried on, “We’ve known each other since we were in nappies.”

Now, that was a surprise, especially to James who couldn’t remember ever seeing them together in any of the aristocratic (pureblood) events his family had attended. 

“She’s my...” he trailed off, not finding a word that could summarize everything (Y/N) meant to him. Taking a small glance at her, he settled for saying, “She’s my worse half.”

Remus snorted quietly. 

(Y/N) clicked her tongue in amusement, letting out an unimpressed and teasing, “Cute.”

It was the first time that either Marauder could remember hearing her talk without her distinctive tone of coldness. In the shadows of the night, with a bruised face and tired eyes, the Ice Princess looked and sounded human.

James looked between the pair, eyes widening when he saw Sirius reach out to place a strand of (Y/N)’s hair behind her ear.

“Are you dating?!”

Both of them shook their heads but Prongs caught the redness in Sirius’s ears. It would’ve gone unnoticed hadn’t he been actively searching for it. Padfoot had an outstanding poker face (he was a Black, after all) but his body gave away what his features didn’t. 

James was about to ask something else when they heard footsteps.

Sirius, albeit begrudgingly, dropped his hands from around (Y/N) as he saw the matron making her way towards them. He helped her back into the bed, limping slightly as he walked.

“He hurt you,” (Y/N) stated, looking in his eyes for traces of pain.

“Not as much as I hurt him,” he replied with a weak but self-satisfying smirk. At her unimpressed look and evident worry, Sirius assured her that he was alright.

Neither of them had noticed Madam Pomfrey’s presence until she was handing (Y/N) the potion.

“It will make you extremely lightheaded, Ms. (Y/L/N),” the matron informed her. (Y/N) winced once the smell hit her, it was pungent and acrid. Salazar, she hoped it tasted better than it smelled. “You’ll be staying the night.”

She didn’t bother fighting her. It would’ve been useless. Besides, she wasn’t looking forward to going back to her Common Room. She had to mentally prepare for the upcoming whispers and stares.  

As she raised the cup and swallowed down its contents (pinching her nose to prevent herself from throwing up) she caught the way Madam Pomfrey went to touch Sirius’s wounded side. She’d known about his injury without even needing to ask. (Y/N) thought that was rather impressive.

“You’ll be glad to know it’s just a bruise, Black. No broken bones. But it could’ve been much worse,” she reprimanded. “Going around fighting, what were you even thinking?” 

Before anyone could answer her, she took a vial from her pocket and handed it to the young Gryffindor, “That will take away the pain.”

Sirius chugged it down in a second.

Looking around the room she seemed to finally notice Lupin and Potter. 

“And what are you two still doing here?” she shook her head disapprovingly. “It does not matter, you will be helping Mr. Black back to your Common Room. Make sure he doesn’t get involved in any other altercation.”

"I don’t need to stay for observation?” Sirius asked. 

He really didn’t want to leave (Y/N) out of his sight. 

“Absolutely not. All you will do is bother Ms. (Y/L/N) and she needs rest.”

Sirius grumbled under his breath. 

“Now, out! All three of you!” she ushered them out of the room. 

(Y/N) went to grab Sirius’s hand before he could leave. 

“Wait.”

The potion was already kicking in and she felt slightly groggy, but (Y/N) had to tell him right now when the emotions were still vivid within her (before she could cower away). 

“The offer you made, do you remember?”

Sirius nodded in response.

Of course he remembered, he was still awaiting an answer.

During one of their late-night escapades Sirius had told her that he would be moving into his own apartment as soon as they left Hogwarts, he’d said that he loved the Potters but that he felt as if he was being too much of a burden. And, unexpectedly for her, he’d let her know that she was free to move in with him if she wished. He was giving her a way out of the life that’d been predetermined for her by her parents. He was saying, without words, that if she chose to leave she would always have somewhere to go to. (Y/N) had replied that she would think about it. After all, self-preservation, along with her mother’s teachings, ran deep. Marrying a pureblood wizard and living a miserable life had been her destiny from the moment she’d been conceived and she was scared of making the wrong decision.

Tonight, however, was an insight into what her life would become if she followed her parents’ plans for her life.

She had to get out. 

“I’ll do it,” she said as she yawned. “Let’s move in together, fuck them all.”

Sirius couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped past his lips. She seldom ever swore. 

Without thinking too much he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. Her eyes were already half-closed.

“Let’s talk about it when you’re not falling asleep, my love.”

That night Sirius shared everything with the Marauders. James had gasped more times than it was actually needed throughout the story. In the end, he’d pouted and faked offense. (”Padfoot, we are best mates, basically brothers. How could you keep this from me for so long!”) Remus had listened quietly, as he always did, and had only nodded his head when Sirius was done talking. There were many things that he still didn’t understand but knowing this made Padfoot’s strange behavior throughout the years finally make sense. (”If she’s important for you, she’s important for us.”)

And the next day, when (Y/N) reaffirmed that she was willing to leave everything behind to have a shot at living a life for herself, Sirius found himself being the happiest he’d been in a while. 

It would all be alright. 

v. epilogue

Time had made (Y/N) soft.

Her eyes, once impassive and cold, would crinkle with happiness as they’d never before. The tight reign in her emotions, which had been taught by her mother, lessened. She would only ever revert back to a shell of her old self around people she mistrusted. (Y/N) was still a formidable person with a presence that demanded attention—people would subconsciously turn around to meet her as soon as she walked into a room —but she wouldn’t hide the way she would soften around the people she loved.

“How is little Padfoot doing today?” a familiar voice asked, startling (Y/N). In her shock she’d almost dropped the knife she’d been using to cut celery.

She turned around to meet James Potter who was followed behind by his wife, Lily, and their son. The little Potter was about to become two years old and, from what Lily had told (Y/N), James had started to talk about having another kid.

“Salazar’s beard, James,” (Y/N) reprimanded.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N/N),” Lily walked around her husband, baby propped up on her hip.

(Y/N) waved her offhandedly, telling her it wasn’t a problem, before greeting her friend. She went to kiss Harry’s chubby cheeks, pulling a funny face that made the toddler erupt in giggles.

“I’ve told him that we should owl you beforehand but he’s just incorrigible.” The redhead sent her husband a pointed look but he just shrugged unapologetically.

“Sirius is my brother,” James said. “Since you married my brother,” he pointed at (Y/N), “that makes you my sister-in-law.”

Getting married had been a spontaneous and impulsive decision. Sirius had given her the ring and he’d said, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

So, three months after leaving Hogwarts the couple had eloped and she became (Y/N) Black.

Not only had they done it because of their love for each other but also because, as Sirius had brought up, as long as she remained unmarried her parents could still find a way to tie her to anyone they wished. (Her parents, once they discovered that she’d run away with Sirius Black, had done everything in their power to force her to come back home. But they couldn’t coerce her to do anything, not when she now had a firm and loving support system behind her. She didn’t need their money or the power they tried to bribe her with. She was in love and, for the first time in her life, she felt at peace.)

And although she didn’t have the wedding that she’d dreamed of as a child, the big wedding that her mother had already planned by the time she was nine, her wedding day was one of the best of her life.

James stepped into the kitchen, taking a small piece of celery and eating it before (Y/N) could slap his hand away. (Celery dipped in hummus was her latest craving). 

“And you don’t owl family before using the Floo Network, Lils,” he finished between munches.

Having grown up around magic (Y/N) wanted to inform him he was very wrong, that her parents always owled her grandparents a week in advance of their visit. But then again, she’d grown up with people that shared her last name and blood but weren’t truly family. Maybe this was the Potter way and, although she would never admit it, (Y/N) had grown to love the Potter way of doing things.

(Besides, this random appearances at the Blacks apartment only happened because Sirius and James insisted that they needed to have their homes connected by Floo. (Y/N) had been a little apprehensive in the beginning but she didn’t mind anymore. It was good to have family close by.)

“So, how is little Pads doing today?” James asked, stepping forward as if asking for permission.

Looking behind him, (Y/N) caught the look that Lily sent her. It said, “See what I’m talking about?”

(Lily had the theory that seeing (Y/N) pregnant reminded her husband of the time that she’d been pregnant hence the reason he’d become more insistent on having another Potter baby.)

She sent her a look back that replied, “You might be right.”

James waited impatiently and as soon as (Y/N) nodded her head, he lowered himself to place a hand on her round belly.

Unsurprisingly, as soon as their future uncle’s hand came in touch with the clothing, the little babe kicked.

“He always starts playing with my internal organs when you or Remus are around,” (Y/N) informed him with small discomfort, watching as his face lightened up.

“He?” Lily asked.

Nodding, (Y/N) explained, “I think it’s a boy.”

“Pads has been saying you’ll be having a little girl,” James said as he finally dropped his hand from her stomach. He turned around to meet his family and Harry started reaching out for him. Lily passed the baby over to her husband.

“We’re having a bet on that, actually,” a new voice said.

If the little bean kicked when their uncles were around, they full-on started to do gymnastics with only the sound of their father’s voice.

“Why am I not surprised?” Lily whispered to (Y/N) as she walked closer to take a look at the food in the oven.

(Y/N) chuckled. They always had to bet on things they disagreed on.

Behind her, Sirius greeted his best mate and godson. The little Potter seemed much happier now that his uncle was here. (Harry preferred Sirius over everyone and Sirius had a soft spot for the kid). 

“I’ll start setting the table,” Lily told her, straightening up when she realized the food was almost done. “Do not carry the casserole, use your magic or ask one of the guys.”

Although raised by pureblood elitists, (Y/N) had learned the muggle way of cooking when she’d been younger. Food tasted better when magic wasn’t used. It was the reason she never used her wand in the kitchen unless it was being used to wash dirty dishes. Lily had been moderately surprised when she’d found out. She’d also been horrified when she’d seen (Y/N) carrying heavy plates of food while almost eight months pregnant. 

“You worry too much, Lils.”

She did, but (Y/N) couldn’t help feeling grateful. She’d never had such a good friend before, someone that doted on her and loved her without expecting anything in return.

“It’s because I care about you.”

(Y/N) reckoned she would never get used to hearing those words.

The redhead sent her a smile and took both her husband and kid out of the kitchen to help set the table.

“How are my girls doing today?”

He pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s lips, hands cupping her face before he lowered himself to be able to press a kiss to her belly.

The baby kicked, hard.

(Y/N) groaned, “The little bean missed you.”

“And I missed her,” he replied. “Have you been good to mummy today?”

His fingers caressed the skin in her stomach and the babe kicked again, this time in a more delicate way.

Sirius took that as a yes and he pressed another kiss to (Y/N)’s belly, mumbling a small “good”.

“How was work?” she asked as he straightened up. His hands remained by her side, thumbs running by the sides of her stomach.

Sirius pressed his forehead against hers and sighed, “Busy.”

After Hogwarts Sirius had gone to work in the Ministry of Magic. He was working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as an Auror. His days were long and exhausting, most of the time also dangerous. (Y/N), on the other hand, had gone to train as a mediwitch. She’d been working at St. Mungo’s for the last five years and was currently on maternity leave.

(Y/N) caressed his face, fingers making the wrinkles of exhaustion disappear. He relaxed under her touch, always had.

The small beeping of the oven snapped them out of their small bubble.

Outside the kitchen, she could hear little Harry babbling to himself while Lily and James talked to someone. Apparently, Remus would be joining them for dinner too.

(Their apartment always had people around hence the reason (Y/N) had begun to cook for more people than just her and Sirius.)

She moved towards the oven, but Sirius stopped her.

“I’ve got this, love,” he assured her. “Why won’t you go sit down for a couple of minutes while I get his ready.”

Her eyes narrowed, “I’m pregnant, not incapable of functioning.”

He smiled at the snarky tone she used. He’d long gotten used to the hormonal changes which would make her snap at the smallest things.

“I know,” he pressed a kiss to her temple. “But please let me do this?”

She sighed, “Fine.” As she walked out of the kitchen, she told him over her shoulder, “Only because your kid won’t stop dancing around.”

Sirius laughed at that.

As they ate together that night, just like they did once every two weeks, (Y/N) couldn’t help the feeling of warmth that spread within her chest. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she would be able to enjoy the simplicity of life, that she would be able to take control of her future and truly live.

Sirius linked their fingers together.

She was home.

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

The Magical Word of JKR

In this post, I want to point out all the inconsistencies of the world that JKR has created. Some of us had been worshiping her for so long. But JKR made mistakes, not only outside her world, but inside.

Owls for muggleborns. Sending a letter through an owl seems to be something common in The Wizarding World. But why do children with a muggle background need to go back in time and use them when they could use a phone? Why can't students use any muggle technology? I know wizards are anti muggle and magic does not allow these devices to function at Hogwarts, but why not?

Drunk portraits. How could portraits get drunk? Did artists paint vessels and digestive systems for them too? How can they bleed? They are portraits with voices and personality based on real people yeah. But they are not alive. They don’t bleed or get drunk.

The trace. Wizards under 17 aren’t supposed to do magic outside Hogwarts. But The Ministry doesn’t seem to control this by which wand did it. But by location. Since Dobby did magic in the Chamber of Secrets, and they blamed Harry for it. So, what happens with pureblood kids? They are allowed to use magic outside school because their families are supposed to, so they wouldn’t trace them. So it seems unfair for muggleborns not to be able to practice magic. Since they are the only members of their family that would do it.

Hogwarts being the only school. There is only one school in all Britain for magical people. Yet there seems to be very few students when there should be a lot. And it doesn’t make sense that Hogwarts is the only choice. Or Hogwarts, or homeschooling.

I don’t understand the population of Magical Folks. It seems little because most of the wizarding families are known. There are only 28 pureblood famous families. They even practise inbreeding, they are all related. But why is that, if the wizard gene is dominant? There are more half bloods and muggleborns than squibs. So the magical population should be as large as the muggle one, even more.

Hogwarts Houses are cool. But the way kids are sorted doesn’t make sense. They get sorted when they are eleven. Seems pretty young to me to form traits and criteria that might change as they grow. Also, let’s say 100 kids enter Hogwarts one year. They won’t be sorted equally 25/25/25/25. Because according to personalities and traits, there could be 60 Gryffindors and 10 Ravenclaws, and 4 Slyhterins, and 25 Hufflepuffs. What if one year, there are no Slytherins for example?

Also, sharing a dorm, common room and classes with people from your same house (same personality and traits) seems boring and unhealthy. Having friends with different personalities, traits and beliefs should help you grow and mature. Sometimes friendships are built between two opposite people. And separating houses, forces students to just hang out with people from their houses, not others.

Love potions. These are the wizarding equivalent of drugs. Think about it. Forcing someone to show love for you is very much like drugging someone and forcing them to do stuff against their will. Love potions can permit things like raping. Something that happened to Tom Sr. by Merope. It is horrible. Yet the wizarding world permits their selling and consumption without a problem. And what’s worse, they teach how to brew it in school to children! A potion like that shouldn’t be allowed or taught.

Azkaban being the only punishment. It seems whether you are a dangerous criminal like a mass murderer or just someone that stole something once, you get the same punishment. Azkaban. An inhumane place where dementors live, and make prisoners go insane, live their worst nightmares or suck their soul. Even characters who were under the imperius curse like Stanley Shunpike. Or even The Marauders would’ve gone to Azkaban if their animagus secret was discovered. No matter what your crime is, always the worst punishment: Azkaban.

Wizards hiding from muggles. The Statue of Secrecy in the Wizarding World seems to be important. But I may ask, how can wizards hide from muggles if they don’t know anything about them? Pureblood Wizards don’t have a clue how muggles live, behave, dress, talk. Not even Arthur Weasley who works in that Department. Yet they want to be unnoticed by muggles? For example, each time a wizard dresses like a muggle they do it wrong, using colorful clothes. Wouldn’t it be suspicious? Like even Vernon sees people in cloaks in book 1, celebrating. Also, if there are a lot of muggleborns, shouldn’t more muggles know about wizards?

It is totally inhumane to just obliviate muggles each time they see something. That spell should have some consequences in their brains. Like for example, Hermione’s parents must’ve had mayhem after their minds were modified.

Memories in pensieves are not supposed to be accurate. Memories are from our point of view. From the perspective of people who lived that memory. When Harry sees Snape’s memories or Bob Ogden’s memories, they seem to be clear. Harry can see Bob and Snape in those memories when they should be seen through their eyes, they are their memories. How could Snape remember himself, see himself. You get my point? Also, memories are subjective, not objective. We remember what impacted us the most, we forget about details we don’t care about. There are feelings involved.

Not having another education after Hogwarts. You graduate from Hogwarts at eighteen. Eighteen! And you're supposed to have figured out what you want to do for the rest of your life. Why aren’t there Wizard Universities? Wizards only have 7 years of education and that’s all. Nothing before, nothing after (unless you’re muggleborn). Seems that the wizard community doesn’t care about education that much. With only seven years of education, are you suddenly prepared for the rest of your life? I don’t think so.

Adding to the last point, wizards only teach about magic. What about math, wouldn’t they need it to count their money, or take care of their finances? What about English, spelling, grammar? Not every kid had the privilege to be homeschooled by their parents before. What about Sex Ed? I think it is important for teens that age to be careful with their sex lives.

Quidditch being the only sport in the wizarding world. Quidditch is cool, I get it. But it is not for everyone. Seems that if you want to be a sports person in the wizarding world, you only have that option. Either you like Quidditch or nothing.Shouldn’t there be other sports? In the muggle world we have tons: football, basquet, tennis, swimming, running, etc.

Love protection is not common. Lily sacrificed herself for Harry. She died for him and that love protection saved his life. Why is Harry the only one to experience it? Is it because of the prophecy? I mean Lily is not the only one who has sacrificed herself for love. Not in the story, not in History. Then why aren’t there more people with lighting scars walking around?

Why don’t wizards cure things with magic like eyesight? They have a potion that grows bones back. But they cannot cure Harry’s eyesight? And don’t say that it is because eyes are connected to the soul, that’s a lame excuse. In the muggle world, eyesight can be cured with surgery.

Hogwarts Express. Yeah, we all wanted to ride the train to Hogwarts. It is part of the experience right? But what if you live in Scotland already? Why bother traveling to London to King Cross Station to take a train if you already live there? It seems like a waste of time. Is there a provided transport for kids who live in Scotland? What about those who don't live in London? What if Scotland is nearer to them than King Cross?

Ghosts. They shouldn’t exist. It is not very well explained how you become a ghost. But it doesn’t make sense that they exist and yet many characters died and didn’t become one.

Discrimination against magical creatures. We know how magical creatures are seen in the Wizarding World. Discrimination exists. But the problem is that Jkr never does anything to fix this.Not with werewolves, not with half giants, surely not with house-elves. The only issue that the war solved was the discrimination against muggleborns.

And house-elves liking their slavery is problematic. It is saying that slavery is right as long as the victim accepts it. She created S.P.E.W and never properly addressed the issue.

The Forbidden Forest is dangerous, yet students have detention there. Dumbledore says at the beginning of each year that the Forest is out of bounds. So why would you send students to detention there, Dumbles? Also, building a school near a forest full of dangerous beasts: werewolves, acromantulas, centaurs, seems kind of risky for children. Not every child obeys the rules. Look at the Marauders spending every full moon there.

How did Hagrid come to be? Hagrid is half giant. Meaning that his father is human, his mother is a giant… Ehemm… Excuse me, but how do you have sex with a giant? That’s physically impossible. How does Hagrid exist?

Male veelas? We are only introduced to female veelas in the Wizarding World. Veelas are these beautiful women that men feel attracted to, they seem in trance by their beauty, and they are not responsible for their actions. It seems to me that JKR is saying that men should not be accountable for their actions when they see a pretty girl, because it is her fault? Pretty feminist, JKR. Also, veelas are dangerous creatures. How do humans procreate with them and have half veelas or a quarter of a veela? Are there male veelas too?

Teachers not having spouses or kids. It is a stupid stereotype that teachers are sad non social people, who are only teaching because they don’t have a choice. Like they are allowed to have social lives, date, get married and have children, right? Name one Hogwarts teacher who is married with kids. They all seem pretty single. And I get it, being single is not a bad thing. But all of them being single just because they are teachers in a boarding school? Just because it was convenient to the author? Only McGonagall married once, but her husband died a few years after.

Abusive teachers. Speaking of teachers, why would Hogwarts allow incompetent teachers that are abusive (Snape), and or are dangerous for kids. None DADA teacher had teaching experience before. And since there is no further education than Hogwarts, how do teachers get prepared for the job? Teaching is not about knowing a lot of stuff about the subject, but knowing how to treat children.

Muggle vs Wizard music. What is the difference between muggle and wizard music? I never understood that. Is it the fact that wizards play music with magic? If so, why would instruments exist? Why would they play instruments? If anyone can make a spell to produce music, then anyone can be a musician. The only difference that I find is that wizard music has wizard related lyrics. Which is a stupid difference. Wizards could write songs about muggles. Muggles could write songs about wizards.

Secret Keeper. The Fidelius Charm should be a spell to hide yourself from others if you are in danger. Period. There shouldn’t be such a thing as a secret keeper. Why? Why would someone else need to know the place you are hiding? James and Lily shouldn’t have trusted anyone with their location. Not even Sirius. Not even someone they trusted, because Sirius or anyone could’ve died and passed the secret to the others. Like, it doesn’t make any sense. And also, how could Bill and Arthur be their own secret keepers but not James and Lily?

Magical therapists. Healers seem to cure physical maladies or illness pretty fine, but what about mental health? And I am not talking about mental problems because of magic. Like Frank, Alice, Lockheart whose minds were affected by spells. I’m talking about mental illnesses such as depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, adhd, ptsd, trauma etc. Don’t tell me wizards don’t suffer that. What about Remus, Sirius, Harry? Who treats these things in the wizarding world?

Time Turner. Only exists for the plot. Otherwise it is useless, stupid and confusing. Time traveling confuses the mind. Also, we don’t exactly know how it works. Is it a domino effect? Do the things you do back in time affect the present? They should. Or does it create different timelines, like it is said in Cursed Child? Also, why not use time turners for important situations? For example, save important people from dying, go back to check events of a crime and see if they are true.

Veritaserum. Wizards have a truth potion and they won’t use it. They should use it on trials to take the truth out of criminals, to see if the accusants are innocent or not. They should’ve used it on each member of the Order to find out who the spy was. They should’ve used it to discover who was the Slytherin heir when the Chamber was opened. They should’ve used it on Harry when he came back from the Graveyard to prove Voldemort was back. Why would that shit exist anyway?

Incest families. Pureblood families, or at least some of them are supposed to practise inbreeding. But if you look at the Black Family Tree, the only Black-Black marriage is between Orion and Walburga. Just one. And even if this was the case, shouldn’t this inbreeding have consequences? I don’t know if it’s the magical gene or what but The Blacks and Malfoys seem pretty fine.

If you know more and you want to add them, feel free to do so. This is a critique to improve this word and fandom ourselves. Even JKR's world is cool and wonderful, it is full of flaws that we need to speak about.

[didsomeonesaydaddydraco]

Jealous | Draco Malfoy (prompt request)

Request: yes, by anon. Anon requested the following: Hiii! Could I please request a Draco Malfoy x reader with prompts 5,14,15 ? Fluffy 🥺🥺with a hint of angst if you can X)

Word count: 3,342

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!reader

Note: My requests are still open, but before you request from the prompt list, please check out the updated version. Thank you so much!

Draco Malfoy was a little bit possessive when I came to his group of friends. He had troubles with trusting someone, and getting attached to them, but when he did, all his insecurities came out. His trust issues were paired with the constant fear of losing those people, but instead of telling them how he felt, he chose the easier way and hid his feelings and fears behind the mask of an arrogant son of a bitch. He was overprotective, but supportive, jealous and hot-headed, and on top of them, stubborn as hell. Only a few people were willing to give him enough time to prove that he was actually a nice person, who was only misunderstood and troubled when it came to talking about feelings or letting his guards down. He was popular, but not for what he really was. He was well-known for being a bully, an arrogant twat, an overdramatic troublemaker and the biggest hater of mudbloods. Only his closest friends knew the real Draco Lucius Malfoy, and he was fine by that. He always thought quality was way more important than quantity. He might have thought of himself as someone who was hard to read, but in reality, it wasn’t that hard. Not for Theodore Nott. Theo was his third closest friend, being behind only Y/N Y/L/N and Blaise Zabini. While Draco went to Blaise for the fun things, like pranking the Golden Trio, throwing a secret party in the Room of Requirements or just chilling somewhere with a bottle of Fire Whiskey, he chose Theo for be his emotional support and moral compass. And he gladly took up this role, especially because he had a gut feeling that his dear friend developed deeper and more serious feelings towards their one and only Miss Y/L/N.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Theo asked Draco one day, when they were sitting in their Common Room, working on a DADA project together. Theo found him staring and smiling at Y/N, who was sitting at the other side of the room with her friends, Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass, doing each other’s hair and makeup. The girls told them in the morning that they were tired of only wearing their uniforms and boring hairstyles, and they wanted to look like themselves again. The boys didn’t understand them, but they came up with the sad excuse of having too much homework and studying, so they didn’t have to participate in their afternoon program. 

“What?” Draco asked him, but never turned his gaze away from the girl, who was sitting on the ground in front of Pansy, getting her hair curled. Theo chuckled and turned his attention to their friends as well. He saw why Malfoy was so fascinated by her. Y/N was one of the most beautiful girls at Hogwarts, if not the most. Her hair was always shiny, her makeup natural but immaculate. She had an amazing style and she always smelt like jasmine and vanilla. But it was her smile that so many boys fell for. It was beautiful and bright, could make everyone’s day better. 

“You know what I’m talking about” he rolled his eyes and turned back to his book “Dray, you’re in love with her” 

“No, of course I’m not” he tried to deny, but the blush on his cheeks said otherwise. Draco sighed at the sight of Y/N in her spring dress and curly hair. She looked amazing, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she had her eyes on someone. They had known each other for years, she was still nice to him when he was an annoying rat at first grade, and she was one of his real friends. They spent so much time together, it was literally impossible for Draco to imagine his days without her. He saw her getting a crush from time to time, but they passed just as quickly as they came. He even saw her falling in love with Adrian Pucey, and he was by her side when they broke up. It was a mutual decision. After a year and a half of complete confusing for Draco, he felt relieved when she said they decided with Adrian to stay just friends, because they weren’t working as a couple anymore. Draco knew from then that it wasn’t just a friendly love anymore. He knew why he was always so moody and needy during the time of their dating. He hated to see him holding her hand, hugging and kissing her in the corridors. He realised he wanted to be the one who did those things to her. If he learnt only one thing from his father, it was how to treat a woman right. He was Lucius still surprising Narcissa with flowers and dates, just to keep the smile on her face. He saw the love they had, even though what his family’s secret was. And he wanted that. Draco wanted to put a single white rose on her desk before class, just to see that beautiful smile on her face. He wanted to hug her in their sleep, whispering sweet nothings in her ear and hear her giggle when he tickled her. He wanted to kiss her perfect lips and show her how much she means to him.

“Than I guess you don’t mind that George asked her out after Potions today” Theo said, knowing very well he hit a nerve with that. If it wouldn’t have been enough that someone had the audacity to ask her out before Draco finally get the courage to do that, it had to be a Weasley. He was well aware of how Draco felt towards them, and how he wanted only the best for her. He said so many times, that she deserved a pureblood Slytherin who could identify and maintain the lifestyle she grew up with. Theo knew Draco was actually talking about himself, and he was sure he was the guy who could actually make her the happiest, but it wasn’t his place to get them together. They had to realise on their own how they were feeling. He knew the unspoken rules of both families, how they preferred another Pureblood, preferably a Slytherin marrying their only child, but Y/N never really cared about blood status. She knew they were all equal, some of them not fortunate enough to be born in a rich family. 

“He did what?” Draco almost yelled, and his sudden outburst of emotion brought the girls’ attention to their table. Y/N looked at him with raised eyebrows, asking him without words what the hell was going on. He only shook his head and sent a small smile toward her. He felt sick by the single thought of a Weasley having an arm around her.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” Theo laughed and leaned back in his chair. He watched Draco’s face with an amused look. It was funny to see the always pale boy with red cheeks and even more furrowed eyebrows. Draco looked at his friend with an annoyed expression and picked up his quill. He wanted to deny it, but the feeling was too strong. He just recently learnt what jealous really felt, and he was battling with that feeling. He hated to admit that he got a soft sport for someone, and how he got jealous. He was jealous of someone else having Y/N’s attention. Not because he was needy or insecure. If he was sure about someone’s unconditional love, support and loyalty, it was her. He just didn’t want someone else to realise how amazing she was and for them to steal her away from him. He just didn’t want to lose her to someone else. She was his peace.

“I’m not jealous” he murmured and from the corner of his eyes, he checked her. She was looking at her dress in the mirror, twirling around to see how the dress hugged her body. Draco felt the oh so familiar warm feeling in his heart when he saw her. He didn’t care what she was wearing, she looked absolutely amazing in everything. Just as he opened his mouth to tell Theo to go back studying, Y/N skipped to them with a huge smile on her face.

“Hi, boys” she greeted them sweetly and stood by Draco’s side. He took a deep breathe, letting her sweet scent fill up his nose “So, I have plans for now, but Pansy and I were wondering if you two wanted to go the Hogsmeade tomorrow, to buy some things for Blaise’s surprise party”

“What about Daphne?” Theo asked, hoping the girl had other plans. They never liked each other, and only tried to get along, when they were with their group. Y/N laughed, and assured him it would only be the four of us. The boys looked at each other, both of them thinking the same thing. Maybe they could turn the shopping into a double date at the Three Broomsticks. Theo wasn’t the only one who caught on the secret glances, the moodiness when Pansy was talking to another boy. Draco knew very well Nott fancied the Parskinson girl, but was too intimidated to ask her out. 

“Sounds good to me” Draco smiled at her and put his hand on the small of her back, stroking it with his thumb. He smiled even bigger when he saw the light blush on her cheeks “Maybe we could get a few drinks at the Three Broomsticks?”

“Amazing idea” she bleamed at them “Alright, I have to go now, or I’ll be late, but we’ll discuss the details later” 

“Bye, darling” Draco said with a soft tone and watched as she hurried out of the Common Room. For a second he forgot where she was heading. For that second, he was happy and warmed by their small encounter. 

“Bye, darling” Nott mocked him in a teasing tone. He would have laughed at him, if he wasn’t already making plans in his head for tomorrow. The four of them always had the best time, and he was really looking forward to spend some time with Pansy and watch how his friends were acting around each other, like they weren’t secretly already in love.

“Shut up” Draco throw a ball of paper at him and turned back to his essay. He wanted to finish it, so he didn’t have to worry about it and rush back from their day together just to finish it in time for class. 

——

Draco wanted to stay in the Common Room and wait for Y/N  to come back, but he had Quiditch practise so he had to leave. He tried his best to shut her out of his mind during practice, but it was impossible after he saw Y/N and George in the courtyard, sitting together and giggling at something. Draco couldn’t erase the picture from his memory, and his anger got the best of him. Flint shouted at him several times to get his shit together and focus on the game, but he couldn’t. He wanted to go back and punch the Weasley boy in the face for being so close to his girl. Unfortunately, it would have been weird, considering that she was only his in his mind. The way she giggled and how interested she looked by George hunted him during practise. His stomach dropped at the thought of someone else having her. Draco was glad when Flint said they should cut their practice short due to raining. He wanted to be back in his dorm room, sulking over how much of a coward he was for not making a move on her. And now, he had to watch her falling in love with someone else. Again.

He was rushing back to the Slytherin Common Room, basically running down the corridors, when he saw Y/N and Weasley standing under the arcade, still talking about something. He felt like he was stabbed, when he saw Y/N wearing George’s jacket. He slowed down his steps, watching them waiting for the rain to stop. He waited for something. He couldn’t tell why he was being a masochistic. Maybe if he saw them kissing, or holding hands, it could have helped him to move on. But it never happened. He heard the Weasley boys quiet voice thanking her for meeting up and a quick goodbye before he rushed through the courtyard. Y/N adjusted the  jacket on her shoulder and took a few quick steps, but Draco was fast in her heals. He didn’t know what had gotten into him, he just wanted to let out everything. He wanted her so bad, and he wished that he was what she wanted, and not someone else. 

“Y/N” he called after her. She stopped in her steps and turned around. Y/N arched her eyebrow, wondering what Draco was doing outside in such a bad weather. He hated when his hair got wet, and he hated it even more if one of his expensive shoes got dirty because of the mud “What are you wearing?”

She was surprised by the envy and anger in his voice. Draco never talked to her like that before. She never gave him reason to. He was just fine a couple hours earlier when they were talking about their Saturday plans with Theo and Pansy, so his sudden mood swing confused her. 

“Uhm” she played with the sleeve of the jacket, not being entirely sure what to say “It started raining and I was a bit cold, so Georgie offered me his jacket so I don’t het sick”

“Georgie?” He basically spat the name out of his mouth “Now what? Are you two giving each other bloody nicknames?”

“What the hell got into you, Draco?” She asked. Y/N knew that Draco found the Weasley twins the least annoying out of their family, and something laughed at their pranks “It was a nice gesture”

“A gesture to get into your panties” Draco almost yelled. He wasn’t mad at her. He wasn’t even mad at George for being a man enough to ask her out. He was mad at himself for being scared of his own feelings. 

“Fuck you, Draco” she scoffed and turned around to leave, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. Y/N groaned. She was annoyed by him, and didn’t want to deal with his possessiveness in the pouring rain. Her clothes and hair was all wet, and she was craving for a hot shower and some more comfortable clothes.

“No, fuck you” he was now shouting. He was done with hiding his feelings and seeing how every boy at Hogwarts could have had her, because she was single “Fuck you for liking every boy more, but me. Fuck you for not noticing how hard I’m trying to get your attention. Fuck you for not seeing how much effort I’m putting into this whole thing just to make you see what’s right in front of you” he was pouring his heart out in the rain. It could have been one of the most romantic things, if they weren’t at the verge of arguing, and they weren’t shouting at each other. Draco dropped his head with a heavy sigh. He didn’t want to see the disgust or hate on her face “I shouldn’t be jealous, you aren’t even mine”

“What are you talking about?” She was more confused than ever before. Her heart skipped a beat with every word that left Draco’s mouth. She hoped his feelings were true. She wondered how he could be so blind all this time. How he didn’t see the way she looked at him? How he didn’t feel her hugs were always longer and tighter when she hugged him? How could he not tell he was her soft spot? “Draco?”

“It doesn’t matter. I hope your date was fun” his words were soaked with envy. Y/N’s eyes widened what he said. Date? 

“What date?” She laughed a little bit “I only met Georgie because he needed help with something. He has a huge crush on this Hufflepuff girl, Annah, and asked me to give him some good date ideas”

“You were never supposed to mean this much to me” he said like he didn’t hear what she just told him “I was never supposed to fall so hard. But you know what? I did and that’s the truth” Draco looked at her with hopeful eyes. Maybe they could have a chance “Don’t you see, Y/N?” He laughed dryly. It was pathetic how he was being a softie. He hated how vulnerable he felt, standing in front of her, wearing his heart on his sleeve, confessing his love to the girl who was probably thinking of him just as a good friend “I don’t want anyone else to have your heart, kiss your lips, or be in your arms, because that’s only my place”

There it was. All words said. No taking them back. Draco finally felt proud of himself for being brave enough and facing his emotions and feelings. 

Y/N bleamed at the words. He said what she wanted to hear from him for so long. Her heart was beating in her throat and she felt like no breathe would have been enough for her. She couldn’t say anything. Her words were stuck in her. How could she say something as beautiful as he did? Those were a little bit harsh words, but meant more than the most beautiful love poem in the whole world. 

“Kiss me you twat” she laughed and took a step closer to Draco, who was still in shock after just confessing everything that he felt. He couldn’t even understand what she asked him, because his mind was numb. He saw her lips moving and feeling her sweet scent in his nose again, but he couldn’t tell what he was supposed to do. Y/N caught him off guard when she grabbed his jumper and pulled him into a kiss. At first, he didn’t kiss back. His body couldn’t understand a single thing that was happening right there, and he just stood there. But his brain switch back on again, when he felt her pulling away. He dreamed of this moment so many times. He tried to imagine how soft her lips were and how she tasted. He always imagined if she tasted like her favourite peppermint gum. But he never thought their kiss would be like this. He melted into her lips and his heart skipped every second beat. Draco had his arms around her small body, keeping her close, not letting her go. He wanted to stay like that for eternity, with the girl of his dreams in his arms, kissing her and feeling her heartbeat against his chest. 

“You know” he murmured in between kisses “I wanted to beat the shit out of that blood traitor, when he…” he couldn’t finish his sentence, because Y/N put her hand over his mouth to silence him.

“Of course you wanted, boo” she cued at him with a funny expression “You can tell me more about how you wanted to, but for now, let’s go back to the Common Room and just cuddle”

“Can I have more kisses?” He asked in a childish voice and wide eyes. She found him the most adorable, yet sexiest man ever. She rolled her eyes and took his hand happily.

“Of course” she giggle, and they ran to the Common Room hand in hand, laughing at each other for almost slipping and falling to the ground. Draco was the happiest, and was ready to show the whole school he was the lucky man who had Y/N Y/L/N’s heart, and they were more than welcome to stay away from his girl if they didn’t want his father to hear about their sad excuse of flirting with her. 

[dotthings]

Let’s talk about why Dean dancing with a lamp is subtext, but it’s subtext that supports textual arcs. Dean dancing with a lamp is not random. Meta on why Dean dancing with a lamp is part of the build of a textual arc for Dean, thematically, which also connects to his relationship with Cas. This symbolic moment being tacitly about Destiel will only feel like reaching if you ignore context, ignore canon, ignore long arcing, ignore textual material surrounding it. This isn’t just me talking about a ship, this is an important arc for Dean himself emotionally and the way canon’s working, Cas has become the star player in this specific emotional Dean arc about yearning. 

Here are some canon quotes. I could just leave these here and not write another word of meta because the canon wrote it for me. But I’ve added some further commentary to spell out clearly what I’m getting at.

Dean in 8.14 “Trial and Error” by Andrew Dabb:

“You see a light at the end of this ugly-ass tunnel. I don't. But I tell you what I do know – it's that I'm gonna die with a gun in my hand. 'Cause that's what I have waiting for me – that's all I have waiting for me. I want you to get out. I want you to have a life – become a man of Letters, whatever. You, with a wife and kids and – and – and grandkids, living till you're fat and bald and chugging Viagra – that is my perfect ending, and it's the only one that I'm gonna get.”

Dean in 10.16 “Paint it Black” by Eugenie Ross-Lemming and Brad Buckner:

“You know, the life I live, the work I do…I pretty much just figured that that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around and jam the key in the ignition and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later, I’d go out the same way that I live – pedal to the metal, and that would be it....Now, um… recent events, uh… make me think I might be closer to that than I really thought. And…I don’t know. I mean, you know, there’s – there’s things, there’s…people, feelings that I-I-I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time.”

Sam and Dean in 11.04 “Baby” by Robbie Thompson:

SAM: Really? You don't . . . Ever want something more? DEAN: I'm sorry, have you met us? We're batting a whopping zero in domestic life, man. Goose eggs. SAM: You don't ever think about something? Not marriage or whatever. But . . . Something? You know, with a hunter? Somebody who understands the life?

Sam and Dean in 13.23 “Let the Good Times Roll” by Andrew Dabb:

DEAN: But on a beach somewhere, you know? Can you imagine? You, me, Cas, toes in the sand, couple of them little umbrella drinks. Matching Hawaiian shirts, obviously. Some hula girls. SAM: You talking about retiring? You? DEAN: If I knew the world was safe? Hell, yeah. And you know why? 'Cause we freaking earned it, man.

Sam and Dean in 15.08 “Our Father, Who Aren’t in Heaven” by Eugenie Ross-Lemming and Brad Buckner:

DEAN: Look, man, I didn't want to say anything, okay, 'cause I was kind of in in a bad place, and, uh, yeah, I didn't want to jinx it or whatever, but, you know, I tried the family thing, right? SAM: Yeah, me too. And that's not for us. DEAN: No, not really. But I'm just saying if it was to work, Eileen, you know, she gets it. She gets us. She gets the life. She's hot. SAM: Dean. I mean, I'm not even- DEAN: Look, all I'm saying is you- you could do worse, okay? And she could certainly do better. Like, so much better. I'm happy for you, Sammy.

Dean and Garth in 15.10 “The  Heroes’ Journey” written by Andrew Dabb:

DEAN: You know, I gotta say, aside from pincushion in there… this is pretty nice. GARTH: Yeah, better than I ever thought I'd get. I mean, hunting -- I figured I'd be dead before I'm 40. You know, go out young and pretty. But now I've got a great wife, great kids. I guess...sometimes things work out.

Dean in 15.10 “The Heroes’ Journey” by Andrew Dabb:

Dean, wistful, watching through the window as Garth and Bess dance: You know, I always thought I could be a good dancer if I wanted to be.

Ok, let those roll around in your brain for moment. 

Now: CONTEXT. CONTEXT. CONTEXT.

There’s this long running arc about maybe Sam and Dean could each find a significant other, not white picket fence, but...something, with someone already in the life, who gets their life. There’s Dean’s move from despairing and believing the only ending he could have, the only ending any hunter could have, is dying with a gun in hand, to Dean’s enthusiasm for the concept of retirement, Dean’s wistfulness about finding a significant other, for what he thinks he can’t have, and he starts the cycle all over again, if he can’t have it, then he wants Sam to have it, so Dean encourages Sam with Eileen. Saileen, the Dean-blessed, Dean-approved Sam ship. Dean ships it. And that is how the canon is trending, complete with Sam and Eileen kissing goodbye and saying “this is real” and even God himself saying their feelings were real, “that was all you,” even if God manipulated events around them. Which is an overt mirror to Dean and Cas and Dean’s expressly stated doubts about what’s real and what isn’t, and Cas telling Dean “we are.” 

Much the way Sam has been witness to Destiel, and has often pointed out Dean’s Cas feelings. Dean’s got a front row seat to Saileen and approves; Sam’s had a front row seat to Destiel and approves. 

Let’s throw in Robert Berens’ work in The Trap here, since that’s relevant to this specific topic as well, because why did Sam and Dean in the potential future timeline where they’d killed Chuck give up and cave in to their vampire instincts? The world being overwhelmed with monsters...and losing Eileen and losing Cas. It’s right there in the dialogue. I’ll give you the quote and everything:

Sam and Dean in 15.09 “The Trap” by Robert Berens:

SAM: You want to quit? What's happened to you, Dean? Ever since -- DEAN: Ever since what? We lost pretty much everyone we've ever cared about? Ever since the Mark made Cas go crazy? Ever since I had to bury him in a Ma'lak box? Ever since then? Yeah. You know why? 'Cause the monsters -- they're everywhere. Everywhere! What we do -- it's not even Hunting anymore. It's whack-a-mole. We don't even save people. Every friend we've ever had is either dead, or they got wise and they packed it in. SAM: Jody's still fighting, and Bobby -- DEAN: Bobby has a death wish, and you know it. And Jody -- ever since what happened to Donna and the girls, she does, too. And after Eileen... so do you.

“Ever since” Dean had to bury Cas in a Ma’lak box. “After Eileen...so do you.” 

So there’s this canonical long, long thread across multiple authors (and those weren’t even all the quotes, I’m sure people could dig up more) about Dean in particular yearning towards finding a significant other, some contentment, with someone who already is in the hunting life, who gets it, who understands.  

An episode that flat out shows how losing their significant others is the final straw that rips out Sam and Dean’s last will to fight, and they lose themselves, and after they’re turned into vampires, they just...give into the darkness. Where Sam gives up their shot at destroying the big bad because losing everyone they love is too high a cost. Where losing Cas makes Dean lose hope, where losing Eileen sends Sam into a death wish mindset. Sam and Dean don’t just need each other. That’s not canon, it never has been.

And then right after that, along comes meta episode The Heroes’ Journey. Sorry if you don’t like The Heroes’ Journey, but it’s what the canon did, it’s textual, along with everything else I’ve pointed out here, and in among the crackish humor are some real emotional narrative points. 

In The Heroes’ Journey, Dean gets to see Garth’s life. Garth found his significant other, Bess, and she’s another werewolf. Now, Garth’s life resembles the traditional white picket fence idea a lot more than what Team Free Will are headed for. Garth has a big house with a porch, and he’s a dentist. He’s also a werewolf and his wife is a werewolf and his kids are werewolves because Bess is a pureblood werewolf, Garth didn’t exactly leave the life, and he helps Sam and Dean on a case. But nothing’s been indicating to me that anyone in Team Free Will is headed for that kind of settling down, with a house, becoming a dentist. However, the canon has been practically shouting now, as we near final episodes of SPN, to make the point about a desirable outcome--some kind of stability, contentment, and a significant other. Dean gets a front row seat to seeing a hunter can have that. Garth’s a hunter who turned into a werewolf and he can have that. 

When EP’s talk about how they aren’t headed for a white picket fence or driving off into the sunset or settling down, none of that rules out them finding...something...with someone, and some form of stability and contentment.  Nope, I can’t really imagine them in the suburbs becoming dentists. But canon sure is putting up big neon arrows to...something. Think outside the box. This isn’t about the white picket fence. 

And in The Heroes’ Journey, Dean, conked out on the good gas so Garth can fix his teeth, has a trippy dream where he dances with a lamp.

Rewatch the ep. Look at how the dance is choreographed not just the use of light, because that’s a clue too. The whole dance could have been Dean and Garth being dancing bros, but Garth fades off the stage, and Dean dances alone...until he grabs the standing lamp. In a season where Dean and Cas’s relationship is an A-plot, define it how you like, it’s A-plot. Their breakup and their reconciliation, which played like a marital breakup and reconciliation, are tied to major mytharc beats. In a season where a long-running textual theme about Dean’s developing hope for retirement and his wistfulness about “things...people...feelings...” is getting further play. Where Dean and Cas’s relationship continues to be one of the show’s most central ones.

Dean dances with a lamp. While his emotionally fraught, intense close relationship with Cas--A BEING MADE OF LIGHT--has a long-running arc and recently more and more textual level content spelling out the sublimated romantic interest in small words, while there’s an arc about Dean’s yearning for that stability, contentment, a significant other.

CONTEXT. 

We don’t think Destiel’s “going canon” because Dean dances with a lamp, it’s that Dean dancing with a lamp is kinda loud serving as reflection of canon textual arcing. Sometimes subtext adds a layer. Sometimes subtext is directly tied to the surface layers, an echo, a highlighter.

I’ll just be over here, crying because Dean danced with a lamp.

[harrysweasleys]

Another Woman For My Man

Synopsis: Reader, who is dating Fred comes from a rich background and her family isn’t thrilled about her dating Fred. During her fourth year, the Triwizard Tournament and all, Fred catches the eye of a Beauxbatons lady, who is determined to split the two of you up. 

Warnings: language 

Word Count: 7.6k

A/N: this was much longer than i expected but i’m kind of proud of it! Enjoy! Gif is from google.

Another year at Hogwarts meant another series of unexplainable, adventurous events. This year was bound to be no different.

You had spent the summer away with your family in Paris, meeting important Wizarding families and getting acquainted with people who you never wished to see again. For nearly two months you dealt with snobby purebloods, until you were finally back in London and preparing to head off to Hogwarts. The spent the last week of summer staying at the Burrow with the Weasley family — much to your parents’ disapproval, but if anything, it had been the best week of the holiday. 

You could feel yourself relaxing and going back to normal as you sat at the Gryffindor table, still slightly groggy after napping on the train on the way over, but the delicious feast made you feel more awake.

“Silence!” Dumbledore rose his hand over the Hall, silencing the chatty students and making you place your fork down, “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Before we get too distracted, we have an announcement — Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been selected to host the Triwizard Tournament!”

No way. 

You clapped your hands, a smile making its way on your face. You had heard of the Triwizard Tournament loads of times growing up, your parents were very fond of keeping up to date with everything going on in the wizarding world — to maintain their status, of course.

“Hogwarts is about to get crowded,” you turned over to Hermione, clasping your hands in front of your chest as you awaited the introductions.

Dumbledore gained the attention of the room once more, “Now, please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, and their headmistress, Madam Maxine!”

The massive doors swung open and a group of ladies dressed in flowing blue knee-length gowns walked in, dancing through the hall as if they were standing on a cloud. The jaws of every guy in the room practically dropped as the girls sighed, tiny birds flying out of the dresses and floating around the room.

“Wow,” Ron muttered, watching them continue down the aisle between the tables, his eyes wandering further down their backs to stare at their butts.

“Guys can’t keep their eyes off of them, can they?” Hermione scoffed, turning over to you.

You giggled, looking over to Fred, “Hey, Freddie, whatcha lookin’ at?.”

He peeled his eyes away from the girls and looked at you with a dopey grin, “You, of course.”

“Of course,” you smirked, turning back to the doors and awaiting the next school group.

“And now, our friends from the North, please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang, and their high master, Igor Karkaroff!”

A group of the manliest men you had ever seen walked in, tapping large wooden staffs on the stone ground, igniting sparks in an organized rhythm.

“That’s more like it,” Hermione whispered to you, eyes scanning over the group of tough men. You couldn’t lie, they weren’t ugly.

“Y/N, whatcha lookin’ at?” Fred poked your side, using your question from before to tease you.

“You, of course,” you winked at him, turning back to face the aisle. You could feel your eyes follow them throughout the Great Hall until Ron’s screech caught your attention

“Blimey it’s him! It’s Victor Krum!”

You looked up to notice the last man walking in, and indeed, the famous Seeker was walking through the hall with a stern expression on his face. You had seen him not weeks before during the Quidditch World Cup, where Ron had fanboyed over him the entire time.

You kept your eyes trained on Krum as he walked up to the front and moved to the side to let Karkaroff and Dumbledore greet one another like old friends, strange smiles on both their faces.

The atmosphere in the Hall was tense and unsure, but you could feel the excitement buzzing. Next to you, Fred and George were already planning how they’d get into the tournament and what they thought the tasks were going to be.

“You’re not seriously going to enter, are you?” You asked, turning your head to face him.

“Of course I am, why? You worried about me?” he pretended to gush, placing his hands over his heart.

“Yes. Because if you enter this tournament, you could die,” your eyes scanned him over, “and, well, you would die.”

He scoffed, wrapping his arm around your waist, “Where’s the fun in staying indoors and watching everyone else compete when I can be in it? How cool would it be for you to say you’re dating a Triwizard Champ, maybe your parents would like me then.”

You knew he was joking, but there was a hint of honesty behind his words. It was no secret your parents weren’t fond of you dating a Weasley. Your entire life, they had been using their status and wealth to try and find the best possible man for you, so when you eventually told them that you were indeed dating a pureblood, they were thrilled.

When you told them it was Fred Weasley, that thrill diminished rather quickly.

“His family is poor, Y/N!” Your mother repeated over and over, as if saying it would make you realize that you didn’t want him. You couldn’t care less about Fred’s family’s status. You had met most of his siblings at Hogwarts and they were some of the kindest, most thoughtful people you could ever meet. Your family was nothing like that — which is why you tried to hide your family life while at school. You knew rumours would fly and things would get blown out of proportion before you could even try to defend yourself.

“Your attention please!” Dumbledore raised his hand once more, “I would like to say a few words. Eternal glory. That’s what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament. But to that, that student must survive three extremely dangerous tasks.”

“Wicked,” Fred and George muttered beside you, their eyes wide and excitement written all over their faces. You rolled your eyes, chuckling at them before turning your attention back to Dumbledore.

“For this reason the ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain all this, we have the head of the Department of International Magic Cooperation — Mister Bartimus Crouch!”

Right as Crouch was about to step up and speak, a cracking bolt of lightning came down from the ceiling, thunder echoing around the hall and creating panic amongst the students. You felt Hermione grab your arm and duck down, pulling you with her as screams continued sounding throughout the mass of students. Harry and Ron looked around, eyes wide. 

You ducked your head down even further, dragging Fred down with you, who dragged George down. As you opened your eyes, you noticed a streak of light come from the corner of the room and make its way up, calming the ceiling down and returning it to normal.

You felt your breathing return as you squinted, looking over to the corner of the room to see who had done the spell.

“Bloody hell, it’s Madeye Moody,” Ron spoke, awestruck as he stared at the man himself. You felt your eyes drag over him as well, looking at the fake eye scanning the room and the ragged coat that was dripping over the stone floors.

“Alastor Moody? The Auror?” Hermione was still clutching the table, not letting the new-found calmness reach her just yet.

“He’s mad,” Fred whispered, leaning close to you, “Heard he’s responsible for nearly a dozen filled cells in Azkaban.”

You had heard of Moody before, but had no idea what he was doing in Hogwarts. It’s not like there were any dangerous criminals lurking about that needed to be caught. You watched as he walked over to greet Dumbledore, the two sharing a quick talk before Moody limped away, looking over the mass of students.

Eventually, Crouch waddled over to face the student body, “After much deliberation, the Ministry has concluded that for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen shall be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament.”

The hall went up in uproar, young students complaining loudly about how they’ve had their ‘rights’ taken away from them. You giggled as Fred and George cussed him out, arguing louder than the entire Gryffindor table combined. 

“That’s rubbish! You don’t know what you’re doing!”

Dumbledore raised his hands, silencing the crowd once more, as he continued to explain what was going to happen throughout the year. He revealed the Goblet of Fire, telling students that this is where they had to submit their names if they wanted to enter.

“Sorry, Freddie,” you placed a kiss on his cheek, “Guess you’ll have to watch from the stands with me.”

He sighed dramatically, a faint smile on his face, “Fine. I guess that’s what I have to do then.”

The rest of the dinner wasn’t overly exciting. You could hear some of the older students around you chat excitedly about placing their names in, hoping they’d get picked and experience some of that ‘eternal glory’ Dumbledore had mentioned.

You made your way out of the Great Hall with your arm linked in Fred’s, the two of you laughing at one of his puns as you passed by a group of girls from Beauxbatons, leaning agains the entrance and giggling to themselves. You didn’t pay mind to them, but when one of the girls raked her eyes over Fred’s body with keen interest, you felt a pang of jealousy hit you straight in the heart.

You brushed it off, looking back up to your boyfriend who continued talking as if he were completely oblivious, and made your way back to the Common Room.

-

The next evening, you found yourself in the Great Hall once more, watching intently with Hermione as students piled in to place their name in the Goblet. The two of you would share comments every now and then, giggling to yourselves at the people who didn’t think Dumbledore’s age line would work.

And of course, amongst those non-believers were Fred and George. 

The two burst into the room making quite a scene, cheering themselves on as they rushed over to you. The stood up onto the benches behind you, holding up to tiny vitals.

You had a feeling Fred would try to smuggle his way into the tournament, but you didn’t think he’d go this far. 

“Bloody idiots,” you mumbled to Hermione, causing her to chuckle.

“Cooked it up just this mornin’!” Fred smirked, holding up the tiny bottle for everyone to see. From behind you, you heard a chorus of unfamiliar female giggles. You turned your attention to them, meeting the eyes of the same girl you had seen eyeing Fred yesterday. A blush was evident on her cheeks as she continued looking him over.

“It’s not going to work,” Hermione spoke up, not looking away from where she was facing. You felt the twins kneeling next to you, Fred placing a kiss to your cheek before turning to face her.

“Oh, yeah? And why’s that, Granger?”

You felt yourself leaning back into Fred’s touch as Hermione boasted about Dumbledore’s age line. 

“That’s why it’s so brilliant, because it’s so pathetically dim-witted.”

“Come on, Fred,” you looked over to him with a pleading smile, “I really don’t want you getting hurt.”

He placed a kiss to your temple, “Not gonna happen.” He stood up with George, the two of them downing their little aging Potion before hopping into the circle. 

The twins boasted, waving their hands to get the audience around them cheering. You fought the smile on your lips as you looked at Fred, who looked genuinely happy. Your smile faded slightly as you looked to your left, watching the Beauxbatons girl glaring daggers at you, her arms crossed across her chest.

“Hey, why’s that girl looking at you like that?” Hermione whispered casually, trying not to make it seem like you two were talking about her.

You shrugged your shoulders, “Dunno, but she’s been eyeing Fred for a while too.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in realization, “So she fancies him. Careful, don’t want you waking up with no hair or anything. Jealousy makes people act irrationally, you know.”You nodded, brushing off the girl who was still looking in your direction. Fred and George were placing their names in the Goblet — which ended up shooting them back thirty feet. You placed a hand over your mouth, a chuckle escaping your lips as you watched long, white beards grow from the twins’ faces, aging them nearly fifty years.The room burst into a chant — “fight, fight, fight!” —  as the twins fought each other, blaming the other for their misfortune.

“It’s like I’m dating Dumbledore,” you turned to Hermione, who giggled at your comment. You continued watching the two fight, not even noticing the other figure walking into the room. 

Victor Krum walked over to the Goblet, silencing the room and placing his name in before turning away, sneaking a quick glance at Hermione in the process. You turned to face her with a knowing smirk, watching as her gaze followed him all the way out of the room.

“You got a bit of drool on your chin there, Granger,” you poked her side, holding back a laugh as her cheeks turned pink. She ducked her head down, using her hair to hide her cheeks as you turned back to face Fred, who was now deep in conversation with his Beauxbatons admirer.

You felt your heart sink as you looked at them, her hand placed on his forearm and his laugh that was echoing through the hall. Your face dropped, and Hermione noticed immediately.

“Go over there, make sure she knows he’s yours,” she nudged you. You nodded, determined. You weren’t sure why the jealousy was striking you so hard, but you weren’t going to let some French chick steal your prankster.

You walked up to them, wrapping your arm around Fred’s waist. He seemed slightly confused at your open affection, but he leaned into your touch, smiling down at you.

“Hey, Y/N, this is Claudette,” he waved his hand in her direction, “From Beauxbatons, she knows Charlie. Her brother works with him.”

“That’s nice,” you put on a fake smile as you turned to face her. She didn’t look at you, her eyes still locked on Fred. 

You looked over at Hermione, who was waving her hands, telling you to ‘claim your man.’

“Freddie, did you still want to go to Hogsmeade?” you asked, sliding your hand down his arms to interlace your fingers with his, his warm hand soothing you immediately. 

He gave it a squeeze, “Oh, sorry, I was just talking to Claudette and she’s going to help George and I prank Moody.”

What? That happened fast.

Your face dropped, and you could almost feel the evil grin on Claudette’s face taunting you. You pulled your hand out of Fred’s and nodded sadly.

“Oh, that’s fine.”

“Another time, yeah?” he flashed you his gorgeous grin, and although you were upset, you smiled back at him. He turned back to his conversation, leaving you walking back to Hermione with your feet dragging along the floor.

“What happened?” she pestered you, eyes lingering behind you at your boyfriend still talking to the blonde, her eyes sparkling as if she were under a love potion. 

“Well,” you sighed, sitting down, “Fred cancelled our Hogsmeade date to hang out with George and Claudette.” You couldn’t help the spite in your voice, your blood boiling as you looked back over to the two. Fred looked thrilled, his eyes wide as he took in the words she was saying.

“Boys,” Hermione mumbled under her breath, “Fine, Y/N, you and I will go to Hogsmeade. Its been a while since we’ve had girl time. We’ll take your mind off of your oblivious boyfriend.”

-

And so you did. The two of you walked around Hogsmeade all day, grabbing sweets and sharing a butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks, reminiscing about your four years at Hogwarts. You guys even touched briefly upon the topic of Hermione’s crush on Ron, but she insisted you were imagining things and that she only saw Ron as a friend. 

As dusk slowly started falling, the two of you walked back to the castle, arms linked. You made your way up to the common room, greeting Neville and Cho, before you made your way to the last staircase, waiting for it to slowly position itself in front of the entrance portal.

As the portal came into view, your smile was wiped off your face in an instant. Standing by the entrance, not two feet apart from each other, were Fred and Claudette.

She was tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, a pink blush on her cheeks as Fred cracked a joke. He was leaned agains the wall, his arms crossed. He looked comfortable, relaxed, and you hated it. He only ever looked his way around you.

You ignored what Hermione was saying to you, your eyes glued to the pair of them who looked too damn close to being a couple. You walked up to them, a slight stomp in your step.

“Hey, Y/N,” Fred smiled at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes like it usually did, “How was Hogsmeade?”

“Fine,” you replied, not smiling back. You could feel your heart beating aggressively against your ribcage and you knew you’d say something you didn’t mean. So, before you could do so, you turned around and walked into the common room, leaving the two of them standing in the hall.

“You’re going to leave them alone?” Hermione jumped up from the couch, walking straight over to you, “No! Y/N, go out there and show them who’s boss. Or… something. I don’t really know what the expression is.”

“No,” you sulked down on the couch, not even noticing George was beside you, “If he wants to be an idiot, he can be an idiot.”

“He’s being an idiot, alright,” George spoke quietly, startling you. You looked over at him, noticing he was reading a book — ‘Five Hundred Excuses To Get Out Of Class’ — but his eyes seemed distracted, as if he wasn't actually processing the words.

“George, you frightened me,” you leaned back against the couch, “But, yes, he’s being a fool.”

“All day that chatty French woman was talking about you and how you’re — what did she call it — entitled. Because of your family and all,” he shut his book, locking eyes with you. You could feel he was upset as well, and you knew he probably wasn’t telling you everything about what happened between the pair of them today.

“What did Fred say back to her?” you wanted to hear that he stood up for you, that he ‘defended your honour’ and told her about what you were really like, but if their conversation in the hallway before was any sign, you doubt he had done any of that.

“Nothing,” George sighed, “I stepped up for you, you know, you’ve been nothing but nice to me and my family, despite how you view yourself, and so I told her that you were nothing like what people said you were. But she kept saying it and Fred never piped up.”

“He never said anything?” Hermione questioned from your other side, “Sorry, George, but he’s even dafter than I believed he was five minutes ago.”

You sunk back into the couch, the pain in your chest growing more and more by the second. Why hadn’t he stood up for you? He had only known her for like, maybe four or five hours, did your importance to him drop in that short of a time span? They had gotten disgustingly well acquainted, and you were not liking it.

You suddenly felt like you didn’t want to be talking to anyone.

Abruptly, you pushed yourself off the couch and walked upstairs to your room, Hermione not following you as if she could sense you wanted space. 

You tucked yourself into bed, and for the first time since you and Fred started dating a year ago, you hadn't wished him goodnight or shared a ‘sweet dreams’ kiss. 

-

The next evening, the Great Hall had been packed with students from every school, eagerly awaiting the name picking for the Tournament. You had managed to avoid seeing Fred all day, but with the whole school in the same room, you didn’t really have a choice.

You sat next to a corner window with Harry, Ron and Hermione, hoping you could go through the next half hour without drama, but as Fred and George installed themselves in front of you, you figured that might not happen.

“I didn’t see you last night,” Fred turned around with a distant expression on his face, “Or today, for that matter.”

You shrugged, looking for Dumbledore and hoping he’d start speaking soon, “Sorry.”

Fred noticed you were off, but he didn’t push you like he usually did. A part of you wanted him to, just to show he cared, but at the same time, the last place you wanted to confront him was in front of a couple hundred students. 

“Sit down, please!” Dumbledore finally said, “And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the champion selection!”

The hall burst into applause, but you couldn’t find the excitement in you to clap along with them. 

Dumbledore raised his hand over the blue flame, turning it red. As you looked at it, you could see a small hand waving from behind it. 

Claudette.

You looked down, noticing Fred’s face crack into a smile as he waved back at her. 

That bitch is stealing my man.

“The Durmstrang champion is… Victor Krum!” Dumbledore announced. You hadn’t even seen him pick up the tiny slip of paper, your jaw clenched and jealousy flooding through your veins. 

The group of Durmstrang boys cheered, patting Krum on the back as he walked towards Dumbledore, who shook his hand and led him to stand in the champions corner.

“Hope he doesn’t die,” Ron muttered, “I haven’t gotten his autograph.”

The flame turned red once more, and another tiny slip of paper came flying out.

“The Beauxbatons champion is… Fleur Delacour!” 

The group of girls cheered, and a slim blonde woman made her way to the front, a proud smile on her face as she thanked Dumbledore and joined Krum.

“The Hogwarts champion… Cedric Diggoy!”

The hall burst into applause. You knew Cedric, you had met at the Quidditch World Cup and the two of you bonded over your similar interest in astronomy. You weren't even aware he put his name in — maybe you had missed it while you were glaring at Fred and his new friend. 

“I wasn’t aware Cedric entered,” you turned to Hermione, watching as Cedric made his way to stand with the other two champions. She shrugged, looking back over to Dumbledore.

“And now we have it! Our three champions!” Dumbledore pointed to the three of them, and then to the Triwizard Cup, but your attention was brought back to the Goblet, which was flaming red once more.

Another tiny slip of paper flew out, being caught by Dumbledore who seemed to read it three times, making sure he had seen it properly.

“Harry Potter…” he muttered, and your face dropped, turning to face Harry. He sat down, hoping to be out of sight. Hermione eventually dragged him up by the shoulder and shoved him forwards, his steps slowly bringing him to the front.

“He didn’t even put his name in,” you whispered, panic in your voice as he stood next to the three others. You could see him looking in the direction that you guys were sitting, his face twice as pale as it usually is.

This wasn’t going to end well.

-

After the champions ceremony, Dumbledore had dragged the four of them downstairs, leaving you guys in the hall. You felt your worry diminishing, figuring that Dumbledore wouldn’t let Harry enter as he was underaged as well.

“I’m gonna go catch up with Clau, see you later,” Fred said, rushing off into the crowd of students.

“Hey, wait,” you called out, placing your hands on your hips. Fred turned around, waiting for you to say what you needed to say.

“We haven’t seen each other all day, let’s at least walk back to the common room together,” you sounded kind of desperate for his attention, but you knew deep down that you were. 

You could see his face drop, “Oh, Y/N, uh — well, her and I were going to hang out too.”

“I’m your girlfriend, Fred,” you replied, no hint of amusement in your voice.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Yeah, and she’s my friend. You’re not the only person I’m allowed to hang around, you know? Just relax. I’ll see you in the common room later or something.”

Without another word, he took off into the crowd, his bright orange hair never really disappearing as he was taller than most people, but he felt further away from you than he ever had. You felt your heart sink further as he greeted her with his signature smile, placing his hand on her shoulder. 

“Is he being a git?” George walked up behind you, his eyes also following his brother’s every move. 

“Yep,” you mumbled, “George, what if he realizes he likes her more than he likes me? I mean, it took him months to work up the courage to ask me out, remember? And now, in less than twenty hour hours, he’s already clinging onto her like I don’t exist.”

George wrapped his arm around your shoulders, “He took months to ask you out because he was practically in love with you. I’m telling you, nothing’s going to happen between them.”

“Fine, fine, I trust you. And I trust him,” you smiled up at George, feeling a little bit better. He led you out of the hall and upstairs, into the common room. 

You noticed Hermione sitting on the couch anxiously, muttering to herself about Harry’s safety. You waved goodnight to George and sat next to her, hoping to take your mind off of Fred.

“You don’t really think Dumbledore will let him compete, do you?” you asked, looking over at her, “I mean, I know once you’re chosen, you’re chosen, but this is a new circumstance.”

“I don’t think Dumbledore has a choice,” Hermione’s voice cracked slightly, “The Goblet chose Harry. Somehow, his name made it in. Ron’s furious, he thinks Harry did this to himself.”

“What? Why would Harry do that?” you cocked an eyebrow, “Entering the tournament is like suicide if you’re unprepared.”

For another hour, you chatted with Hermione about the tournament and Harry. She started yawning at quarter to one, bidding you goodnight and taking off for bed. You stayed on the couch, watching the fire continue to crackle as you waited for Fred. 

The two of you needed to talk.

He eventually stumbled in, trying to be quiet but tripping over a pillow that somehow got placed in front of the entrance portrait. 

“Y/N, you’re still up,” he seemed nervous, his hands fidgeting in his pockets as he looked down at you.

“Yeah, I was waiting for you, you said we’d see each other in the common room, remember?” you crossed your arms, fairly aware of how angry your voice sounded.

“I didn’t think you’d actually wait up,” he replied, avoiding eye contact, “Oh, well. Sorry, I’m tired. I’m heading off to bed.”

“No, you’re not,” you snapped, standing up, “We need to talk.”

He sighed, turning around to face you, “Yeah, we do.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he turned to face you, his face riddled with guilt and regret. You knew what he was about to say.

“I think we need to break up.”

“I’m sorry, what?” your voice came out as a squeak, the wind being completely knocked out of you. 

He looked down at his feet, “Yeah, wouldn’t want to drag you around with my poor-ness and stuff, you know.”

“Wait, what?” you stood frozen. Poor-ness? Was he breaking up with you because of your family’s status?

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N,” his voice changed from sad to accusatory, waving his hands in the air, “We know you’re only with me because you feel bad, or because you couldn’t find anyone better — more suitable. Do yourself a favour and admit it.”

You were speechless. Your mouth was hung open, your eyes blinking like rapid fire as you processed what he was saying. 

Where the hell did this come from?

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked for the third time, still not understanding just what he was trying to say, “You think that’s why I’m with you?”

“I know that’s why you’re with me,” he seemed set, as if he had come to a conclusion and you couldn’t change his mind.

You couldn’t find proper words, “Fred — no, I — you know I love you.”

“That’s not how Claudette sees it.”

You held back a scream, wanting to curse him out into next year at the mention of her name. You bit your tongue, balling your hands into fists.

“Oh, yeah? And I assume Claudette knows me so goddamn well, huh?” you spat, glaring daggers at him. Your confusion had changed to anger real quick.

“Yeah, she does, actually,” he smirked, “Your father worked with hers, many years ago in the Ministry. She said your father would go around trying to find your a suitable guy, some rich family’s son, but your attitude always drew them away. It makes sense, why you chose me. We’re both stubborn. But not anymore, I’m not just going to be someone’s backup option.”

“Fred — you’re not a backup — you’ve always been the one for me,” you couldn’t speak, your throat closing in on itself as tears welled up in your eyes. Yes, your dad had tried to find you a rich man to marry eventually, but none of them worked out because you didn’t want them. You had never wanted anyone until you met Fred. He was it for you. 

Of course, you wished you could have said all of this out loud, but Fred’s accusation had rendered you speechless.

“Save yourself the effort, Y/N,” Fred grumbled, “We’re over.”

-

You had cried yourself to sleep that night, trying not to wake the rest of the girls in your room. You were utterly devastated. You wanted so badly to let Fred know that that wasn't the case at all, that you were completely head over heels for him in every possible way, but the shock of his words had hurt you so badly you couldn’t even find a single word to say.

You knew that Fred was stubborn as hell, it was one of the things you loved about him, but right now it was the one thing you were hating more than anything. Claudette had put some sort of twisted idea about you into his head and now, you were the villain. And you didn’t even get the chance to defend yourself.

You woke up the next morning with swollen eyes and blotchy cheeks, a not-so-light headache pilled on top of everything else. You skipped breakfast, wanting nothing more than to curl up under your bedsheets and slip away into the abyss, but Hermione stormed in with a worried expression on her face, preventing you from doing so.

“Care to explain where you’ve been?” she walked over to your bed, sitting down on the edge, “Oh, Y/N, what's wrong?” she looked over your face, taking in the features that showed you had spent the night crying.

You explained everything to her, and she listened without butting in, rubbing your back soothingly as you continued crying. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she gave you a comforting hug, “I don’t really know what to say or how to help, but I am here for you if ever you need anything.”

“I know, thanks Hermione,” you smiled at her, “Guess we should get ready for class then, yeah?”

She gave you a concerned look, but smiled and nodded, walking over to her corner of the room and grabbing her books. You stood up slowly, changed into your Gyffindor robes, and picked up your books as well. You looked yourself over in the mirror, flinching at how distraught you actually looked, but figured you'd use your hair to hide your face from people who looked your way.

You walked into Transfiguration class, greeting Professor McGonagall, and sat down in your usual seat with Hermione next to you. You chose to avoid conversation for the entire class, not even speaking to Harry despite the fact that you were quite curious about what was happening with him and the Triwizard Tournament. 

McGonagall didn’t assign homework — thank the lords — and so the four of you made your way out of class without another word. You could feel the tension between Ron and Harry even after they walked their separate ways. You shared a look with Hermione, and you could tell she wanted to do everything in her power to fix their feud. 

-

The next month was brutal. You had been seeing Fred around more than you’d like. He was there for every meal, he was always chilling in the common room when you were hanging with Hermione and Harry, and he always seemed to be standing outside your class when you were walking out. 

You never spoke, you barely ever glanced at him. It would hurt too much to see that he was doing well, when you, on the other hand, couldn’t go to bed without shedding a few tears. Honestly, you couldn't even look at him without your heart hammering against your chest. 

The first task was coming around — something about dragons — so your mind was thankfully occupied trying to help Harry figure out how to get past it without burning alive. 

The night before the task, you were sitting in the common room with him after Hermione had gone to bed, the two of you looking over books on dragons, trying to find any possible way to get past one without being seen, or to put one to sleep.

You were so focused on what you were reading that you hadn’t even noticed the portrait opening, Fred entering the room. 

You looked up, your breath catching in your throat as you locked eyes with him. He had probably been out with Claudette. You bit your tongue, turning back to face the book in front of you.

“Y/N, I think I found something,” Harry caught your attention, giving you a kind smile. You looked over to what he was pointing at. A little note was sitting in the book, and in messy handwriting it read; ‘talk to me, don’t look at him.’

You smiled to yourself, thankful that Harry had distracted you from looking back over to your ex-boyfriend. Fred left the room slowly, leaving you alone with Harry once more. 

You let our a breath you didn’t know you were holding, turning to Harry, “Thanks, sorry about that.”

“Oh, no worries,” he smiled, “I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You looked back down to your book, once again scanning the pages for any mention of how to get past a dragon.

-

The first task was the most exhilarating thing you had ever experienced. Harry had barely gotten away from the dragon, capturing his egg only after leading the dragon to plummet thousands of feet, probably to its death. 

The Gryffindor common room was in uproar, everyone celebrating Harry’s survival and the fact that he had the next clue in his hand. 

“We knew you wouldn’t die, Harry!” George cheered, lifting Harry up on his shoulder along with Fred. You kept your eyes on the egg, not wanting to look down at the twin.

“Who wants me to open it?” Harry asked, looking around the room, “You want me to open it?” You cheered along with the rest of the group, finally feeling as if you could smile without faking it.

Harry opened the egg, and a blood-curtling scream made its way throughout the room. You ducked, covering your ears despite the fact that it made no difference. 

The sound suddenly stopped, and you looked over to Harry, a grimace on his face as he placed the egg down on a table, not wanting to touch it again.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron asked, entering the room. He walked over to Harry, and the two of them seemed to be having a civilized conversation. You smiled, giving Hermione a thumbs up now that the two looked like they were on good terms again.

“Hey,” a soft voice came from beside you. You recognized it immediately, your heart doing a summersault.

“Hi, Fred,” you turned to face him, not smiling. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, “I just wanted to say I’m okay with it.”

“With what?”

“You and Harry,” he stated as if it were obvious.

You scoffed, “You’re bloody insane. Just because you go off and find someone else at lightning speed doesn’t mean I do too.”

He flinched at your comment, “Uh, right. It’s just that I saw you two—”

“You saw me help him figure out how to survive a dragon, yes,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear his thoughts on you and Harry. You were disgusted enough that he thought you didn’t care about him, you didn’t want him thinking you had already moved on like he has, “Goodnight, Fred.”

You picked up your pride and walked over to the couch, sitting between Ron and Hermione, but not hopping into the conversation, your mind too focused on Fred.

-

“The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament for centuries,” McGonagall announced as you all sat in a large room, facing the students on the other side. 

“As representatives of the host school I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward, and I mean this literally because the Yule Ball is first and foremost… a dance.”

You let out a small gasp, looking over to Hermione, “A dance? How exciting.” she chuckled at your lack of enthusiasm, her eyes briefly looking over at Ron. 

“Now, I want each and every one of you to stand up and find a partner, we will be practicing how to dance,” McGonagall commanded. You looked over at Hermione, the two of you slowly standing up and facing the boys across from you. 

Harry and Ron walked over, “Who goes with who?”

“Harry, dance with me,” you smiled kindly at him, ignoring Hermione glaring into the back of your head at your set up for her and Ron. 

“Now, men, place your hands on the woman’s waist,” Harry did as instructed, and you placed your arms around his neck as you were told so next. 

“My waist, Ronald,” Hermione whispered through gritted teeth. 

You and Harry moved in sync, following the instructions you were given about the choreography and routine, twirling around in your flimsy Hogwarts robe and trying not to step on his feet. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Fred and Claudette.

You had no idea when she got here, but you tried not to focus on the fact that Fred had his eyes on you, not her. He was looking at you across the entire room, and his eyes eventually wandered down to see Harry’s hands placed firmly on your waist. You noticed his jaw clench, but you knew he didn’t care enough to be jealous. 

“Get closer to me,” Harry whispered in your ear. 

“What?”

He nudged his head in Fred’s direction, “He’s watching. Get closer to me.”

You did as you were told, bringing your body up against Harry’s as he continued leading the dance. 

You couldn’t help yourself from sneaking glances at Fred every now and then, and every time you did, his eyes were still on you. You brushed it off, thinking he was probably just trying to figure out if the two of you were actually together.

“Now, that’s it for today. Remember, as it is a ball, you are allowed to ask someone to go with you! It’s tradition!” McGonagall clapped her hands, dismissing you all. 

You left the room with Ron and Hermione (who argued about who stepped on who more) while Harry left to go talk to Moody. 

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” you heard footsteps running up behind you, Fred’s voice making you stop in your tracks.

“About?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Um — can we talk privately, please?” he motioned to Ron and Hermione, who nodded and walked away. 

“What is it?”

You knew you were being short with him, but you had reason. He crushed your heart with a weak explanation while continuing to ‘be-friend’ the woman who dragged him away from you in the first place. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking down at you, “I threw this — us — away. I was such an idiot. Like, a bigger one than usual.”

“Wait, you’re sorry?” you scoffed, uncrossing your arms and letting them hang at your sides, “You left me because some girl came in and threw ideas into your head, you didn’t even let me say my side of this, and now all you have to say is I’m sorry?”

His cheeks flushed, “I know, it’s lame. But I really did screw up. I don’t know what I was thinking. I don't even think I was thinking. She just started saying things about how you’re only dating me because I’m easy and I guess my insecurities just got the best of me.”

You shook your head, looking down at your feet, “You ignored me for a girl who was very clearly trying to get your affection, and then you break up with me because of her as well. You’re going to have to do way better than I’m sorry, Weasley.”

With that, you turned around on your heel and walked away. While you were proud of yourself for standing up to him, a part of you just wanted to run into his arms and forgive him. You knew you shouldn’t, but you loved that boy so much, it was hard to turn away from him.

-

“You look incredible,” Hermione clapped her hands as she finished doing up your hair. The Yule Ball had finally arrived, and you were genuinely looking forward to it. 

Harry had asked you to go with him, as friends, since he needed a date — being a  Triwizard Champion and all. George had informed you that Fred didn’t ask anyone, thrilling you more than you cared to admit. You had expressed over and over how badly you wanted to go with Fred, but the two of you didn’t seem like you were getting together any time soon.

So, now, you stood in your room with Hermione, the two of you dressed in the fanciest clothing you had ever worn while at Hogwarts, and you were really ready to have a good time tonight. 

You started making your way down the stairs, but as you noticed Fred standing at the bottom with flowers in his hand, you couldn't move.

“Y/N — wow — you look stunning,” he stuttered, fidgeting with the flowers in his hand. Hermione smirked at you and left the room. You had a feeling she had something to do with this.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you blushed, tucking a loose curl behind your ear.

“Listen,” Fred let out a deep breath, “I have been the biggest idiot in the entire universe. I know I’ve said it before, but it hasn’t stopped being true. I don't know what came over me that night. I know it’s been over a month, but you’re still on my mind every second of the day. I really am in love with you, Y/N, I don't want anyone else.”

Your heart swelled, and you walked towards him slowly, “Fred, I want to forgive you, believe me.”

“Then please do,” he begged, “I know that none of what I said is true. You never made me feel like a backup. You always made me feel loved, cared for, appreciated, and I really, really want to make you feel the same.”

Your hands were shaking as you took the flowers from his hand, “You really were an idiot.”

“Yeah, I was,” he smiled, letting out a sigh, “Go to the ball with me. Please. I don’t want anyone else with me. Tonight or any other night.”

“I promised Harry,” you mumbled, thinking back to Harry, who was probably waiting for you outside the great hall, “He has the first dance as Champion.” Fred’s face dropped, but he nodded slowly, understanding.

“You can have me for the rest of the night though, if you want,” you smiled up at him, and his face broke out into the biggest smile you had ever seen. He wrapped his arms around you, lifting you up and twirling you through the air.

“I love you,” he placed a kiss on your cheek before the two of you made your way down to the ball.

And you had kept your promise, dancing with Fred until Snape kicked the two of you out, the smile never leaving your face.

[our-lady-of-night-ravens]

The Bane of Our Family: His Regret (2)

After a month long wait, it has finally come... the second part of ‘The Bane of Our Family’!

The story is inspired by @tri3tri​‘s Second Wife AU along with the submission from @scorpiris-sideralis​. More to say at the end of the story.

In the Valley of Thorns, lives a fae king, descended from the Great Witch of Thorns. He was feared and admired from across the lands. Whatever he desired, he could obtain through his status or his magic.

But what he truly desired was unobtainable. The love of his Queen.

When the king was a young prince, he attended an academy which proved to be uneventful. That was until the start of his third year when he met a magic-less human girl who didn’t know who he was. She treated him with pure kindness and compassion, without ulterior motives or deceitful lies. The fae prince, who had been treated like a dangerous national treasure since his birth, fell hopelessly in love with the human girl. His thoughts and dreams were filled with her voice, her smile, her kind eyes, her everything.

However, there was a key issue, the girl herself. First off, the human girl was not from this world and had every intention to leave for her world when the time came. The second was the fact that the human girl did not reciprocate his love back. In the eyes of the girl, the fae was a close friend, someone who aided her in making the new confusing world more familiar. But at the time, the Fae didn’t realize that she didn’t hold his affections as he wished for.

So when the prince confessed his heart out to the girl, she hesitated and left him heartbroken. With the aid from his trusted retainers, he plotted her capture so she may never return to her world and stray from his side.

Once he succeeded in stealing her away from the academy, he married her and made her his Queen. However, a large mass of his court was concerned why their king would ever settle with a magic-less woman and as a response, he made an example of the court by showcasing his immense power as a threat.

Eventually, he and the captive Queen sired two children, two lovely princesses that remarkably resembled him. To his delight, his wife’s compassion hadn’t faded over the years as she treated their two daughters with care and unconditional love.

Then there was his eldest daughter, intelligent, charismatic, powerful, mindful, and elegant. She was the perfect heir for the Valley and he knew that when the time would come, she would be an incredible ruler. And for years, he prepared for the day when his precious child would be ready to take the throne.

However, the court thought otherwise. They were insistent that the Valley could only be ruled by a fae of pureblood and that a half-blooded child and a princess at that would only weaken the Royal blood. As much as he would like to be rid of them all for their insolent behavior, his most trusted retainer advised against it, because the Kingdom wouldn’t be able to function properly with the deaths of such a vast number of nobles. His trusted retainer instead mentioned the numeral merits his daughter obtained, backing up her achievements with those of the Queen.

His beloved queen, though he wished to shower her with gifts and luxuries, preferred a more conserved life, she preferred more simplistic clothing and was quite the hard worker, taking the queenship lessons to heart and actively participate in government affairs as the voice of the lower classes, the human residents of the Valley. That was something he was so proud of her for doing.

But even after all that, the court wouldn’t stop and eventually, he relented. His spirit tired from their incessant demand, giving in and agreeing to make a woman of pure fae blood his second queen. As a king, he had to think of his kingdom, and marrying a lady of one of the Valley’s most prestigious households would strengthen the country.

But his mind would be plagued with regret and dismay, he promised himself and his daughter that the one who would succeed the throne would be her but to no avail. Now he stands in his office, no longer possessing the love of his daughters, alongside the love of his beloved queen.

-

There he stood as Renata took her to leave, baring a pleasant smile, back straight, as if the events that took place didn’t even occur, and not once did she bother to care about her father and his guards’ stunned face. Malleus, out of reflex, raised his hand to her as if he was trying to reach out but couldn’t. She had… never addressed him ‘Your Majesty’ before, it was standard to refer the monarch as such, even for the heir, but he never minded. Not when it was his precious daughter. He looked back at his hand he raised, the hand he used to… slap his precious daughter.

“Your Majesty? Are you alright?”, Malleus snapped out of his deep thought by Silver.

“Hmm? Yes, I’m quite fine.” But his face signaled otherwise as it held a grimace before he sat down in his office chair. Sebek approached him, back straightening.

“Your majesty, if there’s any consolation, I believe you made the right decision in removing her as your heir. She’s far too self-imposed and her nature is far too much like her mother’s to-“

“Sebek, you shouldn’t speak about the princess or her majesty in such a matter,” Silver interjected, cutting Sebek off.

“No, I want to know what Sebek was going to say. Finish your sentence, Sebek,” Though his words were friendly, his tone was not.

Sebek flinched at the harsh tone. He took a large gulp, “H-her highness is far too much like her majesty to… to succeed the throne…” He waited for his king’s response, worried about his mood.

“My daughter has proved time and time again that she was a suitable heir to the throne, or did Lilia’s words of praise for her accomplishments in these past few years alone, somehow went through one ear and out the other in an instant.”

“O-of course not your majesty! I deeply apologize for speaking out of turn!”, Sebek bowed his head down, the last thing he ever wished to do was upset his king.

Malleus’s eyes glared down at the back of his head, “Sebek, I want to know something, do you often criticize the queen for her behavior despite her doing her duties diligently?”

“I- I can not lie to you, my king! It’s true that I have directed some hurtful comments to her majesty. I was well aware that it wasn’t my place, especially since she fulfilled her duties as Queen by giving birth to the princesses, giving them unconditional love, and fulfilling her tasks for the people of the Valley. I beg your forgiveness!”

Malleus glowered at him but ended up resigning to a simple sigh, “Sebek, do you know why I asked you to be their main guard?”

“Please forgive me my lord but I can’t say I do.”

“My queen and my princesses are the most important people in my life. I needn’t have to remind you of that. When it came time to pick a guard for my queen, I remembered that you were in the same year back in Night Ravens and spoke with her the most due to joint classes, I thought you would be the best fit to get her to open up to life in the castle. However, it seems that I failed to put into consideration your opinion on the human race as much as I should. You have my apologies.”

Sebek looked up at his king, “Please don’t apologize my king! I should have known why you appointed me the position from the start!” The guard was practically sweating at that point. He should’ve realized that he had been neglecting his duties in keeping her majesty feeling safe and secure. He allowed his pride to get the best of him and in doing so, wronged his master. “I’ll accept any punishment you deem worthy for my impudence!”

Despite his actions, Sebek’s loyalty to him is next to unparalleled to any other retainer in his royal guard. Removing him from his duty would only deplete a valuable resource so Malleus would have to be light on his punishment. “Very well, Sebek. From now on, I’ll be removing you from the first Queen’s guard. You’ll be in charge of the Second Queen’s guards once she arrives but for now, you’ll return to my guard under Silver’s command. But you will have to ask for forgiveness towards the princesses and the Queen. Do you understand?”

“Yes, your majesty!”

“Oh, dear. Could it be that I am interrupting something important?”, heads turn to find Lilia, Malleus’s closest confidant and retainer with a stack of papers in hand.

“Lilia… No, you weren’t interrupting anything. I was just finishing a decision I made regarding Sebek’s station. I’m assigning him to be the second queen’s guard once she arrives...” he trails off before noticing a stack of papers in his hand. Strange. He didn’t recall asking Lilia to bring any paperwork...

“Lilia, might I inquire what’s in your hands?” He stars down on the documents.

“Oh, these. I received these from her highness. She meant to give these to you but understandably forgot due to the recent news. I told her I was more than willing to send it his majesty’s way, so here you go.”

He hands the documents to him. A brief inspection gives him enough context of what the document stated.

“These... these documents go over a plan on how to relieve the long-standing conflicts along with the border villages of the Valley...”

“Why yes, they do. She kindly informed me that the plan she has included small short term initiatives to quell civil unrest among both the commoners and the fief lords as well as a long term directive to prevent and counteract any further unrest in the future. She allowed me a chance to glimpse through it and I must applaud her for such a well-coordinated plan.”

Glancing through her plan over and over he couldn’t help but sigh before sitting down in his office chair.

“Your Majesty, is something the problem? Was the plan not suitable or inadequate in some way?”, Sebek asked.

“No, it’s quite the opposite. This proposal is practically immaculate.” And yet... he shooed off the incredible mind that thought of it. He placed his hand against his face as the face of his other daughter crossed his mind. “Lilia, I have an inquiry for you.”

Lilia’s smile spread, “What is it that you inquire, Your Majesty?”

“How’s Sherrie doing? Is she still participating in swordsmanship?”

“Why indeed she is. Her highness is performing splendidly in the way of the sword. She’s practically running circles around young fae knights and even the more experienced knights as well.”

“I see... it seems that Renata and Sherrie are succeeding in their respective fields... it makes me question why on earth the court can’t be satisfied with those two...”

Lilia tilted his head before sighing “Malleus, I think I speak for everyone in this room when I say that there’s a clear and obvious reason as to why they refuse to acknowledge either princesses.”

He was right. Lilia knew it. Silver knew it. Sebek knew it. They all knew it.

They simply didn’t approve of the idea that a half-fae would be on the throne in the future. Both his princesses were born before her transformation, resulting in the two being half-bloods.

The Fae have naturally low fertility rates, nature’s way of balancing out their exceedingly long natural lifespans. Dragon faces such as himself had an even lower rate than most fae. Because of that, his queen had yet to become pregnant since her transformation. A fact that troubled the court and caused them to badger on and on to their king.

He could only sigh, “Lilia. Silver. Sebek. Could you all leave my office for a moment? I don’t mind if you’re outside the room I just need a moment by myself to collect my thoughts.”

The three turned to each other, nodded, and without any words they bowed and took their leave.

Malleus sat there by himself, contemplating his recent decisions. He’s already the engagement official through royal documentation so he has no choice but to go through with the marriage. But the thing he worries most were his family.

His wife was already distant as it was and the arrival of a second woman would only create a greater gap. His daughters, born from their connection, would no doubt want as little to do with him as possible now.

It feels as though the beautiful scene in his head of his precious family was being torn apart by his own hands. It was frustrating, to say the least, that he, one of the top wizards in the world and grandchild of the Great Witch of Thorns herself, was torn in such a messy predicament.

All he could do was sigh as he hid his face away from the rest of the world with one hand. “This whole ordeal is a mess...”

At least it couldn’t get any worst than this...

~

Part Three is officially in the works. Though I might put it on hold to work on the next chapter of ‘Our Lady of Night Ravens”. If you want to read that, it’s the pinned post of my blog and follows the story of my OC, Marianna.

[carewyncromwell]

“Faded pictures on the wall... Disconnectin' all calls... I gotta get out, or figure this shit out --  It's too close for comfort! It's a thief in the night to come and grab you --  It can creep up inside you and consume you -- A disease of the mind, it can control you... I feel like a monster...!”

~“Disturbia (Eduardo Esquivel Halloween Remix)” by Rihanna

x~x~x~x

Atticus Lestrange @cursebreakerfarrier​​​ had always been rather solitary, compared to his peers. He’d always had tunnel vision on his studies, putting traditional teenage fun on the back-burner in favor of trips to the library and Prefect patrols. 

All this changed in Atticus’s fifth year, however, when he -- to everyone’s complete surprise -- somehow became friends with his housemate and Ravenclaw Star Chaser Robert Bellamy, and by extension Gryffindor Golden Boy Bartholomew Gilbert and Hufflepuff Sweetheart Cecelia Crouch.

The entire fifth-year class was perfectly baffled by the match-up. The two Ravenclaws, despite sharing a dorm, couldn’t have been any more different. Atticus was a by-the-book, rule-following, serious Prefect and star student who came from the intimidating Pureblood Lestrange family, while Robert was a laidback, rebellious, sassy Muggle-born athlete whose family was as poor as the Weasleys. Most students thought that someone like Atticus was way out of Robert’s league popularity-wise, and yet those from Pureblood families side-eyed Atticus for giving someone like Robert any sort of attention, just as they likewise did for Cecelia and Barty. Then the two actually started calling each other special nicknames (“Grim” and “Bat,” respectively), and soon the whole school was convinced that they were an item, or at least on the verge to becoming one. 

Both Atticus and Robert were completely unaware of the school’s attitude at first. If nothing else, they had more important things to focus on -- namely, the strange dreams they and their friends Barty and Cecelia all shared, as well as their OWLs. After Ravenclaw suffered another devastating loss to Gryffindor, effectively knocking them out of the running of the Quidditch Cup, Robert had nothing else to focus on but his exams, and since Atticus always took his grades so seriously, the two ended up studying side by side rather frequently. Atticus didn’t think he’d ever seen Robert study so hard -- but, he supposed, when Robert was the sort to study outside the library and he’d always been the sort to study in it, he supposed that wasn’t surprising. The two boys would switch between studying for their upcoming Charms OWL and reading over books on Time Turners and their compositions, in the hopes that there might be something they missed regarding the ability to see the future. 

“This just doesn’t make sense,” Atticus said tiredly, as he closed the book with a shake of his head. “Every book we’ve read posits that the future isn’t set in stone, so even just traveling forward in time by Time Turner is risky. And if that’s so, what spell could have been cast on us, or could we have cast, to make us see such vivid images?”

He shook his head. “I know that we all appear older, so it seems like it has to be stuff that hasn’t happened yet, but...do we even know everything we saw is going to happen? Or are they things that just might happen?”

“It’s possible,” said Robert. “But we’ve seen things multiple times. If they are only things that might happen, then we have to make sure they don’t.”

Atticus couldn’t fully agree with this. Yes, a lot of the feelings he felt were sad, but...they weren’t all sad. There was a kind of longing he felt -- a connection with something he didn’t fully understand. And yet he knew that Robert and Barty’s visions were worse than his -- Barty had seen Robert getting hurt, and Robert had seen a lot of destruction and pain. Those things certainly shouldn’t come about. 

Maybe Cecelia would understand, thought Atticus. I don’t think she’s ever said anything about what she’s seen, in her dreams...

So Atticus met with Cecelia during their nightly Prefect rounds to broach the subject. When he arrived, he found Cecelia already involved in conversation with Trevor Urquart, a Hufflepuff in their year -- and it wasn’t a particularly friendly conversation either. 

“And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?” said Cecelia. 

Urquart frowned deeply. “Well, it’s just...with who your family is, and who his family is -- you really can’t think your uncle would approve.”

Atticus came to an abrupt stop a couple yards away, just out of sight around a corner. 

Cecelia’s uncle? What wouldn’t he -- ?

“... I mean, he chucked 'Strange’s father’s cousins into Azkaban for being Death Eaters. I reckon you hanging out with a Lestrange wouldn’t be good for his reputation...especially after what happened with his son...”

Atticus’s lips came together very tightly. 

Of course. Cecelia’s uncle was Barty Crouch, Sr. -- the head of the court who sentenced Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastian to Azkaban. The memory of his father’s resentful glare over his shoulder at Crouch when he passed through the Ministry once with Atticus rippled over the Ravenclaw Prefect’s mind, and it made him feel ill.

Father would be pretty upset if he learned who I’ve been spending time with too, he thought to himself. 

Atticus dreaded even thinking of what his father would do, if he found out -- he’d probably forbid him from ever talking to his friends again...

“Who I choose to spend my time with has nothing to do with my uncle or his reputation,” said Cecelia sharply. “Especially since Atticus is nothing like his family. And I’ll kindly remind you not to call him by that awful nickname either -- it’s horribly shallow of you.”

Atticus felt the invisible hand that had been squeezing his heart in a vice grip loosen significantly, hearing Cecelia actually defend him. Urquart frowned deeper still. 

“Oh c’mon, Ceci -- I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just what everyone else calls him, that’s all. Well, except for Robert Bellamy, but I don’t reckon Lestrange wants everyone to call him by that pet name -- ”

“I think it’s high time you scurry on off to bed, Trevor,” Cecelia cut him off very coolly. “It’s well past curfew, and I have my Prefect rounds to finish. Go on now.”

Urquart opened his mouth as if to say something else, but Cecelia crossed her arms and gave him a very pointed look. 

Sensing the conversation was over, Urquart gave a low, loud sigh and trudged off, right past Cecelia and then around the corner where Atticus had been standing. The Hufflepuff boy was startled to see the Ravenclaw Prefect. Atticus fixed him with a rather pointed look of his own, before walking past him and around the corner. 

“Cecelia.”

Cecelia brightened at the sight of her fellow Prefect. “Hi, Atticus!”

Atticus attempted a smile, but it didn’t feel genuine. 

Fortunately, although she clearly noticed the strain in his expression, Cecelia didn’t immediately address it. Instead, after shooting a quick look at the corner Urquart had departed around, she smiled up at Atticus and took his arm, leading him off. 

“Come on -- let’s start on the east side of the castle and make our way back. It’ll be easier for you to get back up to your dorm when we’re done, if we finish on the west side of the castle.”

Atticus was glad for the increased distance between them and Urquart -- and for Cecelia’s talent for knowing exactly what to do to make people feel more comfortable. 

It was only once they were a healthy ways away that Cecelia spoke again.

“How much of that did you hear?” she murmured, her hazel-green eyes looking concerned.

Atticus glanced away. “...Enough.”

Cecelia frowned deeply, bringing a hand onto Atticus’s shoulder. 

“I meant what I said, you know,” she said firmly. “I don’t give a damn about your family. None of us do. Why would we? I mean, you don’t hate Rob for his -- and plenty of people looked at Barty and me funny when we first became friends with Rob too, at first...”

She offered Atticus a comforting smile.

“So don’t worry about what that clod Trevor said. People like him will get over themselves soon enough, and then they’ll find some other molehill to make a mountain out of...”

Atticus felt himself smiling slightly, feeling encouraged. 

“Thank you,” he said lowly. “Not just for that, but for what you said before, too. It was good of you, to stand up for me like that...”

His smile faded.

“...But aren’t you at all worried, about what your family will think about you spending time with me? I mean, sure, maybe your uncle’s opinion doesn’t matter as much to you...but I am a Lestrange. Won’t your parents be upset?”

Cecelia rubbed behind her neck uncomfortably. “Oh sure, they...were a little unsure, when I first wrote home about you...but they’ve been okay about it, all things considered. And well...you’re my friend. I care about you. When I’m at home...well, I have to play ‘big sister’ all the time. What I want, what I need -- that always comes second or third, if at all...”

She offered her best smile. 

“But when I’m with Rob...with you and Barty, here at school...I can put myself first! I can have fun and do what I want, and just be me. ...That means a lot to me.”

Atticus smiled a bit more fully too. He understood what she meant. Before Robert had reached out to him...well, his existence had been very lonely. Atticus wasn’t really sure how to do this “friendship” thing at all, but...well, upon getting a taste of the fun, the warmth -- the closeness that came with it...he found he really liked it. He liked feeling connected to someone else...like he wasn’t alone. 

Cecelia was lucky her family was so understanding. Atticus wished he could be sure that his father would react the same way, if he ever told him about his new friends...

“...Me too.”

The two came upon a bench under a window. Cecelia strolled over to it and sat down -- she patted the spot next to her, and Atticus followed suit. 

“I’m really glad we became friends, Atticus,” she said, beaming fully. “I remember when I first collided with Rob in first year, one of the very first things I heard him say about you is that you should be smiling -- that you didn’t look ‘right’ somehow, looking so serious. I just thought it was awfully sweet of Rob to say, at the time -- ”

Her eyes sparkled as her pretty white smile spread enough to encompass her whole face. 

“ -- but now that I’ve seen you smile for real -- like when you and Rob were teaching together, back in Binns’s class -- I agree with him. You should smile like that all the time!”

Atticus felt his cheeks burning, but his heart was too -- like it had swollen up to three times its normal size. He bit back a happy laugh despite himself. 

“Well, I daresay I will, if Bat has his way. Got to keep me from getting too ‘grim,’ doesn’t he?”

Cecelia giggled. “Definitely.”

Atticus’s smile loosened slightly as he looked down at his clasped hands in his lap. 

“...Cecelia...may I ask you something?” he asked more seriously. 

Cecelia tilted her head. “What?”

Atticus bit his lip. 

“...Bat and I were in the library earlier today, and...well, we were talking about our theory, that our dreams are what’s going to happen, sometime in the future. We both agreed that even if that’s true, the future couldn’t possibly be set in stone...but Bat thinks that our dreams must be...warnings, somehow. Some sort of magical premonitions of things we have to prevent from happening...”

Atticus’s blue eyes became a little smaller, darker. 

“...But...I just don’t know. Bat’s seen a lot of scary things...he’s said as much, anyway, though he hasn’t gone into much detail...”

“He never does,” Cecelia said solemnly. 

Atticus straightened up slightly to look at her. 

“Rob’s told us some of the stuff he’s seen in his dreams,” said Cecelia, and her eyes were very sad, “but he’s always holding back. I know he is. It’s just like when he disappears to be by himself, when he’s upset. He sees his dreams as a problem he has to fix -- something he doesn’t want to burden anyone else with, if he can help it. Even though he knows Barty and I have bad dreams too, and he knows they frighten us...I think our dreams aren’t half as bad as his, and I think he knows it. But rather than make us feel bad, hearing about all the terrible stuff he dreams about...I guess he sees it as more practical to come up with possible explanations for what our dreams mean, and solutions so that they don’t bother us any more, rather than talk about his feelings...”

Cecelia’s eyes softened, becoming rather strained. 

“He’s so modest, even about his own pain,” she murmured. “He won’t even take the time to complain -- he just puts on this calm, cool air and soldiers through.”

Atticus considered her for a moment, his eyes squinting ever-so-slightly. 

“It is admirable, in a way,” he acknowledged. “I just wish he didn’t have to soldier through...that he didn’t have to have such a hard time of it.”

He sighed. 

“Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps my dreams aren’t as bad as his. Sure, they’re a large part of the reason I’ve only had a few restful nights’ sleep in my entire life,” he added as a light scoff, “but...well, even though a lot of my dreams are sad, it’s not all bad. There are other feelings too, besides the sadness...”

He looked at Cecelia for approval. 

“And well, you, Barty, and Bat -- you’ve all seen each other in your dreams before, right? Are they truly all terrible?”

Cecelia looked down at her lap. 

“No,” she admitted softly. “No, they aren’t. In fact, some of them -- ” her lips curled up in a weak smile, “ -- some of the dreams I have are ones I always look forward to, when they start.”

Atticus blinked in surprise. “Really?”

Cecelia’s smile broadened. 

“I don’t remember all the details,” she confessed, “but there’s a ball. A big, beautiful ballroom, with swirling gowns and festive music. I think it’s Christmas! I’m pretty sure there are fir trees. And I remember dancing...dancing in lively circles around this carefree man with a long ponytail of dark curls and bright black eyes...”

Her face was flushed with fondness. Atticus immediately guessed why.

“It’s Bat,” he said at once. “Isn’t it?”

Cecelia beamed and nodded. “Mm-hmm -- I’d know his face anywhere. I think I’ve seen Barty at the party too, though I’m not sure...it seems like him. Though I have trouble imagining him with such long hair -- Rob seems much more the type...”

She laughed, but after the first chuckle, it slowed and quieted in her throat, before slowly dying away to nothing.

 Atticus tilted his head to look at her better. Upon noticing the concern in his face, Cecelia tried to smile again. 

“I think I see your point, Atticus,” she said. “If there’s good along with the bad, in what we see...how can it be a warning, to stop some terrible future? ...But at the same time...I think I see Rob’s point, too. Even if there’s good along the way...if the end result is tragic for all parties...are those good times worth it? Do you follow the same path regardless of the ‘bad outcome,’ just to enjoy the good while you can? Do you throw away the short-term good, to protect yourself and the ones you care about? Can you even try to prevent the bad and keep the good, even if they’re so closely linked? Wouldn’t that bad outcome stain all the good that came before it...make it so that even that good ends up just as painful to remember as the bad is?”

Atticus crossed his arms, considering this. 

It was certainly a thorny issue. Perhaps Atticus’s own dreams had been less traumatic than the others’, holding this mysterious figure he felt this bizarre connection to and felt this intense need to know the secrets of again -- but Robert had admitted that he’d seen destruction and death. Barty had had nightmares of being unable to save Robert from getting hurt. Was his desire to unravel the mystery of this man who so strangely resembled Barty truly worth that? Could he live with himself if other people got hurt because of it -- if anything happened to Robert because of -- ? 

But if we don’t get to the bottom of things, Atticus thought stubbornly, how would we even know there’s no way to preserve the good and prevent the bad? How would we know for sure that the only way to stop those terrible things Bat and Gilbert have seen from happening is to make it so everything we’ve seen doesn’t happen? 

His blue eyes flashed with fresh determination. 

The future isn’t set in stone -- every book I’ve read says so. I can't believe there'd be no way to make the future we’ve seen better, without throwing it all away. If we could just understand it -- get to the bottom of the mystery of what our visions mean, surely we could use that knowledge to prevent anything terrible from happening...

Cecelia leaned back slightly, her hand propping her up as her gaze drifting up toward the ceiling. 

“As far back as I can remember,” she said softly, “I’ve had this nightmare. In it, I open the door, and standing in front of me is this massive man -- taller than anyone else I’ve ever met, with scraggly hair, sharp, overgrown nails, and filthy, blood-stained clothes. And red eyes -- horrible, monstrous red eyes...”

Atticus straightened up noticeably. 

“I’m completely eclipsed in his shadow, and all I can think of is to scream, but no sound comes out. I can’t even move. Suddenly he’s in the room with me, and...he’s just shouting. I don’t even know what he’s saying, but he’s just in a rage. Lashing out, blood dripping from his wide open mouth and down his fangs as he screams...his eyes completely red, with no white at all, and full of this...pure hatred...and worse...”

Cecelia’s eyes gloss over as her figure seemed to shrink. 

“...Streaming with tears...like he’s some creature that’s gone so mad with pain and hunger...it’s capable of anything...”

Her eyes began to pulse with dread at the memory. Her voice had gone very quiet. 

“And all of that mad, blind, directionless, violent wrath...is directed squarely at me. Even if I don’t know why, or what I could have possibly done to him...I feel this fear I’ve never known awake, every time I see him. Like I’m frozen in place and can’t even breathe.”

Atticus watched her out the side of his eye. He’d taken in everything she said, but when silence finally fell, all he could do was recur the piece of her story that had echoed in his head the loudest.

“...This man you see...has red eyes?” 

Cecelia glanced at Atticus. The Ravenclaw’s eyes were narrowed, but not out of anger -- if anything, it seemed like he was troubled. The blue rippled with a vulnerable sort of emotion. 

Cecelia tilted her head slightly to look at Atticus more closely, her eyes welling up with understanding and amazement. 

“...You’ve seen him too,” she said in a very hushed voice.

The red eyes, full of a kind of bittersweet joy and agony that Atticus couldn’t fathom and streaming with tears, rippled over his mind. The memory was enough to make him swallow a lump in his throat. 

“...Maybe...but...the man I’ve seen...he’s not frightening. He’s...”

Atticus could almost feel the man clutching his shoulders again.

“...Sad. Happy, in a strange way...but in so much pain. As if he’s known a Hell I can’t fathom, and yet...as if just connecting with another person, in the simplest of ways -- just reaching out and touching someone...is a joy he’s longed for his whole life...”

Atticus himself hadn’t realized just how wonderful it was to feel such a connection, until he’d become Robert’s friend...

Cecelia stared at Atticus, her eyes very small and almost confused.

“...You mean he never frightens you?” she asked softly.

Atticus shook his head. “When I’d describe him to my mother...she’d always say I had nothing to fear -- that the man in my dreams couldn’t hurt me. But she never needed to say that. Even if his eyes aren’t natural and I don’t think he truly is human...I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.”

He turned to look more directly at Cecelia. 

“If who we’re seeing is the same person...he wouldn’t hurt you, either.”

Atticus was confident in this thought. This man who called him “Grim” in his dreams, as Robert had just started to -- who clutched his shoulders, with tears streaming from his eyes and painful, heartbroken laughter falling from his lips...he couldn’t be any sort of monster. 

Cecelia looked almost awed, as she looked at Atticus. She was quiet for a very long moment. Then, at last, she got to her feet and faced Atticus with fresh determination in her eyes.

“Atticus...will you help me find a boggart?”

Atticus blinked. “Huh?”

Cecelia’s hands clenched at her side. “My whole life, I’ve been terrified of meeting that monstrous man someday. He’s been my worst fear for as long as I can remember. Even in Care of Magical Creatures, when we faced our boggarts...I couldn’t make him go away. I couldn’t come up with anything funny enough to beat him back, or even just happy enough to make him change form. I couldn’t do anything...”

She swallowed, her expression becoming fiercer still. 

“But...if this man we’ve seen is as you say he is...then I want to face him again. Barty always says that the scariest magical creatures aren’t monsters that need to be locked up or killed -- just animals that can’t properly express pain, that need patience and kindness. Maybe knowing that this man that’s always frightened me is the same way will make it that much easier for me to overcome my fear.”

Atticus’s brow softened. “I see...”

He considered this for a moment.

“...Well, Professor Lupin had a boggart earlier this year, for his third year class,” he said slowly. “I remember hearing some of the younger students mentioning it.”

Cecelia’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s right! Someone’s worst fear was Professor Snape, right?”

“And he ended up dressed in some awful robes and a hat that kid’s grandmother wore,” said Atticus with a nod. 

He was trying not to smile, but it was proving difficult -- Severus Snape had always gone a bit easier on Atticus than a lot of other Ravenclaws due to his family name, but that didn’t mean Atticus particularly approved of his teaching methods. 

Atticus got to his feet, his eyes also full of new resolve. 

“Maybe if I ask Professor Lupin, he’ll be willing to let us use it. For all we know, boggarts could very well end up on our OWLs, after all.”

The following day after Defense Against the Dark Arts, Atticus dawdled behind after class until everyone was gone so he could discuss the matter with the professor. Lupin, for his part, was very supportive of the idea, and fortunately he’d actually kept the very boggart he’d used in that class with the intention of using it in the third years’ upcoming final exam. So that evening, right after dinner, Atticus and Cecelia bid goodnight to Barty and Robert and went on up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom together to meet the professor so as to borrow his boggart. They didn’t give the other two the full context of what they were doing -- Cecelia had told Atticus she didn’t feel comfortable having an audience, while facing her worst fear again. Besides Atticus thought to himself, there was really no need for Robert and Barty to actually see the man themselves: they could always describe him to them afterwards. At least that way Cecelia would feel more comfortable. 

When the two arrived, Lupin was ready to supervise, holding the boggart in a trunk he’d rolled out into the center of the room. 

“All right, Cecelia,” the professor said, his quiet voice very grave as he rested a hand on the lid, “are you ready?”

Cecelia swallowed. Her face was very white as she glanced at Atticus on the sidelines -- Atticus gave her an encouraging look. 

“Mm-hmm,” Cecelia said after a moment, nodding. 

“On the count of three,” said Lupin. “One -- two -- ”

Cecelia set her jaw, putting on the bravest face she could. 

“ -- three!”

Lupin opened the trunk. 

At first, nothing happened. 

Then, abruptly, a filthy, claw-like hand with long nails lashed out of the trunk, seizing at the edge of it. 

The creature attached to the hand used the grip to hoist itself up and out, little by little, until it towered over all three of the people in the room. His long, tangled auburn hair swished to the side as he turned toward Cecelia. His face was largely in shadow, even though the room was well-lit, but the light of the room bounced perfectly off his sharp, cat-like fangs, stained with blood, and were reflected in his inhuman, sclera-less red eyes. 

Atticus’s heart leapt into his throat. 

The eyes were exactly the same. The exact shape, with that exact sharp glint, as those of the man in his dreams. The one who had called him “Grim.”

Cecelia tried to take a step back as the man approached her and ended up stumbling. Her hand on her wand was shaking visibly. 

“Steady, Cecelia,” said Lupin bracingly. “It’s just taking on the shape of your fear -- remember the spell.”

“He won’t hurt you, Cecelia,” Atticus reminded her. “He won’t hurt you.”

Cecelia’s hand tightened on her wand in a vain attempt to try to make it stop shaking. 

“R-Riddikulus,” she squeaked. 

The spell materialized, hitting the shadowy, monstrous man right in the shoulder, but the boggart didn’t even break its stride. The man shrugged it off, climbing out of the trunk and making its way over toward her. 

“Think of a way to make it funny, Cecelia,” Lupin encouraged her. 

“Riddikulus!” Cecelia tried again. 

This time the boggart flinched at the spell hitting it, but Cecelia must have been having trouble conjuring up a funny image in her head, as the cherry pie she’d materialized in her head dissolved before it could fully form. 

“Remember what Gilbert said!” Atticus urged her. “It’s not a monster that needs destroying -- it’s a creature that needs understanding -- ”

“RIDDIKULUS!” screamed Cecelia, her voice very shaky. 

CRACK.

Finally the spell made the boggart change shape -- but instead of changing it into something funny, it merely made the boggart’s face become a little clearer. His nose was crooked, and his jawline was strong -- even the pale, almost boyish complexion was easier to see --

And with a flare of terror, Atticus realized he had seen the man’s face before in his dreams too.

It was the man who had reminded him of Barty Gilbert.

He was older than Barty -- in his twenties, easily -- and yet somehow so much older than he looked. His eyes were hollowed-out, with terrible dark bags around them that made him look ill. The way he held himself was aloof, strong -- cold -- not at all like unassuming, modest, pleasantly smiling Barty. And his eyes...there was truly no light to be seen -- no white in the eye, no humanity at all...

Cecelia’s face had lost all of its color and her eyes had gone very wide.

“No...” she rasped weakly. “No, no...”

“The spell, Cecelia,” Lupin repeated, though his voice betrayed some concern now. “Remember, it’s not real -- ”

But Cecelia had lost her head completely. The monstrous man closed the space between them, opened his mouth, and began to scream wordlessly at her.  Tiny flecks of blood came off his fangs and slapped her face as tears streamed in rivers down his face -- and Cecelia crumpled up in a ball, her wand in her shaking hand forgotten and unable to move. 

Both Lupin and Atticus raised their wands, but someone else reacted faster.

“FLIPENDO!”

In a second, the monstrous man that resembled Barty had been blasted back away from Cecelia. 

It was the real Barty. Just behind him was Robert, both of them with their wands out -- while Robert ran over to Cecelia, Barty turned his focus squarely on the boggart. His blue eyes were narrowed with a kind of protectiveness and righteous fury Atticus had never seen. 

The boggart stumbled to its feet, facing Barty head-on. Upon making eye contact with him, the man reached out a hand toward him -- 

CRACK. 

In the monstrous man’s place was Robert. He looked older, with a ponytail of long curls and wearing a bright red coat and high-collared shirt -- and in a second, and with a loud BANG, his chest was stained with blood and his arm was blasted clean off -- 

Barty’s response was so effortless that it didn’t even need volume. If anything, the humorless, venom-laced restraint in his incantation with which he spoke was almost disquieting. 

“Riddikulus.”

CRACK. 

The boggart became Robert, dressed in Atticus’s clothes and tugging against his way-too-tight collar with a roll of his eyes. 

Atticus shot into action himself. Pointing his own wand at the boggart, he shouted, “Depulso!”

The boggart resembling Robert was knocked backward. With another wandless spell, Lupin yanked the creature back into the trunk and slammed it shut. 

Atticus ran over to Cecelia. She’d collapsed onto the floor -- Robert had both of his arms around her and she was shaking from head to toe with sobs. 

“Cecelia,” whispered Atticus. 

Cecelia gave a loud choke and clutched at the front of Robert’s new black school robes. Robert tried to soothe her by running a hand along her back, but his face was very white too. 

Lupin bent down in front of Cecelia and placed an open chocolate bar in her hands.

“Here now, Cecelia -- eat this,” he told her firmly. “It will help.”

The poor Hufflepuff was having trouble choking back her sobs enough to eat it, but she tried to gulp some down all the same. 

Robert looked up at Atticus, his rippling black eyes searching his face. 

“Grim,” he murmured, “was...was that thing...?”

“Yes.”

Atticus swallowed back the lump in his throat. 

“It was...in our dreams,” he said very lowly. “Both of ours.”

Robert’s eyes widened.

“We were going to tell you, we just thought -- well, Cecelia wanted to face her boggart on her own,” Atticus said weakly. “I only stayed for moral support...”

Robert whirled on Cecelia, his face whiter than ever. 

“That man -- Ceci, you never said he looked -- that he looked like -- ”

“I didn’t know!” choked Ceci. “I’ve never seen him that clearly before...”

Robert’s focus shot to Barty. The Gryffindor looked the whitest out of everyone as he stared down at his three friends, clumped in a heap on the floor with their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. His expression was also deeply wounded. His blue eyes were full to bursting with emotion -- fear, horror, pain, and utter despair. 

Cecelia’s worst fear is him, Atticus realized Barty must be thinking. This girl who means the world to him...is afraid of someone who looks like him. 

“Barty,” Robert started, his voice unusually sharp, “it’s just a -- ”

But Barty turned on his heel and ran for the door. 

“BARTY!” bellowed Robert. “BARTY!”

He’d stumbled to his feet and charged after him, but he halted in the doorframe -- Barty, with his much longer legs, had outpaced him and disappeared. 

[ghostofstudentspast]

Obligatory (part 2)

Series Masterlist

“Oi Y/L/N, is it true you’re marrying the ferret?” a ginger head of hair popped up next to you as you kept your head held high walking to class.

As it turned out, the Hogwarts rumour mill was rather dry, so the news of you being engaged to Malfoy had spread like wildfire. You had tried your hardest to ignore the stares and the whispers that followed you through the halls, especially from the Gryffindors. Slytherins and purebloods were ever so slightly more understanding, earning you looks of pity rather than ones of disgust. You weren’t sure which was worse.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business Weasley.” You didn’t even look at the boy before answering.

You weren’t on bad terms with Weasley and Potter. Not in the way Malfoy was anyway. Regardless of how much you tolerated them, you weren’t in the mood to be interrogated. Besides, Ron always came off as a bit of a self centred boy in your opinion.

“People are judging you anyway, you might as well tell the truth,” he scoffed and stopped walking. You kept walking, keeping your eyes ahead.

Mother had always said you were good at handling people. You’d figured out later you were just good at presenting the version of you people wanted to see. Your parents wanted a soft spoken little princess. Your teachers preferred an attentive listener who asked in depth questions. Pansy and Theo liked it better when you were loud and confident. All of these people saw different sides of you and the only person who really ever listened was your best friend Daphne.

She was the one holding your hand walking down the hall now. Quick to shoot a venomous glare at anyone who dared to look your way with a haughty attitude. She had been there to wipe away your tears when you had tried again and again to figure out a way out of this contract.

The contract you currently had clutched in your hand as you made your way to the library. As promised your father had drawn up a copy of the contract for you to hold onto. To read over and over again until the lines all blurred together. As you flattened the contract against the library table you wondered if you were fooling yourself, hoping for a way out.

“So, I got permission from professor Snape to use the restricted section. I’m definitely on his watch list now though,” Daphne murmured from the cushy seat beside you, “he probably thinks Theo wants to do something illegal again,” she snorted.

It wasn’t unusual to find a Slytherin in the restricted section. While Ravenclaws might be the more studious ones, Slytherins were set on knowing as much as they could about the important things in life. Hence why every pureblood you knew had been learning dark magic, and it’s counter curses since their first year at Hogwarts. Some things would never be taught in classes but if you were clever, you’d find a way.

Theo however, had been banned from the restricted section for life by every teacher around. In fifth year they caught him trying to curse one of the school toilets to bite people and accidentally flooded an entire bathroom on the third floor. Needless to say, he was kept under a watchful eye.

“Have you talked to Draco yet? About all of this I mean?” Daphne whispered as she added a few books to the growing pile on your table.

“No, he’s been avoiding me,” you hadn’t exactly been hunting him down but it was the truth. Anytime you’d be in the vicinity, he’d suddenly find himself extremely busy or he’d disappear into the crowd. “I don’t blame him. He’s not exactly pleased about this either.”

“Y/N...” Daphne hesitated before asking what was on her mind, and everyone else’s for that matter, “did he really take the mark? Blaise wouldn’t tell me.”

You fiddled with the edge of your sleeve. It wasn’t your place to tell her these things but she was your best friend. Your parents had of course let you know that your darling husband to be was now in fact, a death eater. You nodded ever so slightly and met Daphne’s eyes. They were round with concern and a hint of fear was etched onto her delicate features. She chewed on her lip for a moment and pulled the contract over to her.

“Well, lets figure this out then shall we.” it was an unspoken rule between the two of you. Never admit how afraid you were of your families. Never let them hear your hesitation when they asked about your allegiances. Only the two of you knew, you were too kind hearted, too soft, too disgusted to ever really be on their side. It was what bonded you together.

It was the first Hogsmeade weekend by the time you got to speak to Draco. Well, that’s when you gathered your confidence anyway. You approached him outside the three broomsticks, the two boys flanking him spotted you before he did.

“Hi Blaise, Theo!” You smiled widely at the two boys who grinned in return, “Malfoy, a word please.” your smile was tight as he turned to face you.

“Keep the missus happy Draco,” Theo hollered after you. To your relief, Blaise smacked him in the forehead and dragged him into the pub.

“What do you want? I have things to do.” He crossed his arms and looked over your shoulder, cold air escaping from his parted lips. It looked like smoke billowing out of a dragons mouth. He was aptly named.

“Daphne and I still haven’t been able to find a single crack in this contract,” you huffed as he still refused to meet your gaze and instead fiddled with his gloves, “I need your help.” you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Look who’s suddenly involving me in this,” his cocky smirk popped back onto his lips easily, “we don’t have a copy of the contract and I’m not stealing from my father.” he deadpanned.

“I have a copy.” you didn’t meet his eyes and shuffled your feet.

“Of course you do.” his tone was clipped, pissed off, you could tell. “So much for sharing that with me. Whatever, fine, give me the contract and I’ll take a crack at it.”

“I can’t just give you the contract Malfoy I need it too,” you mentally cursed him, talking to him always felt like trying to eat soup with a fork. Very difficult and you don’t get much out of it.

“Yeah alright, then meet me in the common room tomorrow at noon and we’ll look at it together.” his icy eyes met yours and seemed to stare right into your mind, maybe they could, you were sure he knew legilimency. “Anything else or am I free?”

“Yeah, you’re free,” you blinked at him, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat before turning on your heel and stalking back towards the castle. Bloody Malfoy.

“No I’m telling you, clause 19 counteracts that. I have to take your name.” You paced in front of the black couch Draco currently occupied.

In his hands he held your copy of the contract. After every few lines of reading he’d throw out a spell, potion or non-magical suggestion to a clause. You would then be forced to point out why these things wouldn’t work, as if you hadn’t already considered every option.

When he’d suggested polyjuice potion you’d laughed. Living separately? You’d immediately pointed a few lines down where it stated you’d take over the left wing of Malfoy Mansion. Simply having an open marriage? The scandal would be horrible, so of course your father had added a clause for that.

“I’m telling you Malfoy you need to get more creative.” You shot a tight lipped smile his way as he pushed his glasses farther up his nose. You hadn’t actually been aware that he needed glasses. They made him look less uptight, or maybe it was the fact that his hair wasn’t slicked back with gel.

“Yeah, I’m trying here Y/L/N,” he ran a hand through his hair again. “You running a hole in the floor isn’t exactly helping.” he added without looking up.

For the past half and hour you’d been alternating between pacing back and forth and perching on the sofa opposite of Malfoy. Something about the intensity in his gaze while he scanned his way down the parchment made everything feel all the more real.

In fact the next few Sunday’s, leading you all the way into the holiday season, you and Malfoy could be found spitballing ideas back and forth in the common room. It was the most you’d spoken to each other in years and it was strangely tolerable. He still made you want to throw a book at him every twenty minutes but at least that was an upgrade from every five minutes.

“I don’t know if there’s a way out of this,” Draco finally spoke after a prolonged silence. It was the week before Christmas break and while you refused to give up hope, he’d seen through the contract weeks ago and knew you were just holding on for your sanity.

“No, there has to be,” You chewed your lip anxiously, “I mean, maybe he left something out?”

“Our fathers are death eaters what do you expect Y/N,” his voice was cool and smooth, almost like a piece of glass, “they’re not stupid.”

“My father isn’t a death eater.” You stopped pacing and faced the blond.

“When’s the last time you’ve seen him wear short sleeves? The last time you checked his forearm?” His eyes were calculating as they gauged your reaction.

“I-“ you paused and thought hard, “last summer.” Your jaw tightened and you felt tears well up in your eyes. It shouldn’t have surprised you this much. You’d thought maybe it was just a feeble following, something your parents could come back from.

“Hey, I didn’t mean-“ He started awkwardly before you cut him off.

“Keep it.” Your voice wobbled, “keep the contract, I don’t care. I’ll see you over Christmas.”

Series taglist: @xkonpinkx @detroitobsessed @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @pointlesscoconut @irlkell @thehumanistsdiary @mo-onstarrs @summer-writes

[with-love-anu]

I’m an idiot

Pairing: Sirius Black x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Sirius stops talking to you, his childhood bestfriend when you get sorted in Slytherin.

Warnings: Insecurities, mentions of blood and passing out.

Word Count: 2,830

You were patrolling through the corridors on your nightly duties when you heard shouts. You hasted along the path trying to find the source. Avery, Mulciber and Snape were dueling Remus. He was terribly outnumbered but you could still see how good he was. Mulciber cast a stinging hex that finally send him to his knees.

“Expelliamus!” you shouted, catching all their wands.

“Going against your own house, (Y/l/n)?” Avery sneered.

“I think everyone very well knows I am not big on house disparity. You’ll get your wands back from Slughorn. So, go before I decide to blame this thing entirely on you.”

Mulciber was going to protest, but Snape put an arm around him taking them away. You turned to see Remus bleeding profusely. You quickly performed some basic first aid healing procedures.

“Are you okay?” you tried to ask him. He was dizzy, and mumbled something incoherent. “I am going to take you to the hospital wing, hmm? Just try to stay with me.”

You performed some charms and carried him to the nurse. She took one look at him and made you immediately lay him on a bed. You were thankful she didn’t fuss a lot.

“What happened?” she asked after patching him up.

“Some bullies. I saw him and bought him to you. I don’t know everything.” You said as you watched Remus slowly gain conscious. Just then, Sirius and Potter who you knew to be his friends entered the room.

“Moony are you alright? Shit! Those are bad wounds.” Potter said sitting near his bed.

“You should give him some time, he’s barely awake.” You said softly.

Sirius watched you intensely making you gulp. Turning to the nurse, you told her you needed to leave soon and got out of the infirmary ignoring his gaze. You were used to it by now. He hated you. He hated you for being a pureblood and a Slytherin. As if that warranted enough to judge your character.

The two of you used to be best friends. Your parents were highly trained aurors, one of the very best and highly esteemed in the ministry. They had come from a long line of wizards from several parts of the world. As a result, they were invited to every party or ball held by the important households of the wizarding society. It was known that your family did not support the pureblood mania. Still, they were welcomed warmly or people pretended to be pleased to meet them at every gathering. They always took you too, refusing to keep a nanny to look over you. As a result, you met the very regal Black brothers.

You three soon became very good friends telling each other everything. You’d seen Sirius and Regulus grow up along with you. You remembered chasing each other around the Black manor.

“Sirius stoppppp!!” you said as you rolled out laughing making you both fall in the progress.

“(Y/n)! come on we can’t let him win” Regulus tried to pick you up as Sirius snorted and tickled you to death.

You had become as close as family. Sirius, Regulus and you would tell each other your deepest secrets. They would tell you about the tortures they went through at home and you remembered begging your parents to take them with you. Your parents could only provide much help against the renowned Black family. You and Sirius had sat together and discussed how you would be best friends throughout your years at Hogwarts stepping up against people like his parents, becoming aurors. The two of you thought that you would never part ways, but looking back you knew you were the only one who thought as such. Because the moment you were sorted into Slytherin was the moment he stopped talking to you. You remembered chasing after him, writing him letters only for him to tear them apart before your own eyes. Somewhere between him pranking you in the Great Hall, embarrassing you making you cry yourself into the night; you had come to the conclusion you should have long ago. He was not your friend. Never was.

This hadn’t come along easily, because every time you would see him; you would remember the time you both spent together and your resolve would break. You would sometimes see him in classes with his newfound, loud friends and your heart would overcome with jealousy. He laughed and joked around with them not even sparing you a glance. It felt like there was some big hole in your heart and you missed it, terribly. You used to think, he’s so happy without me. He doesn’t need me anymore. And every single time, when you walked through the corridors alone seeing him ahead somewhere in his own world; all you could think was did what was it you did wrong. What was so wrong with you that he could no longer stand being next to you. Did he only ever talk to you because he had no one else?

It took you months to make friends because all you could think about was your childhood bestie. About 2 years to dull the throb that took your heart whenever you saw him, because how do you ever forget a person you once loved? During summer, Sirius never saw you. He either ignored your presence or remained stuck up in his room. Regulus and you having exchanged letters throughout your first year was just as perplexed as you were. He told you how Sirius hadn’t even talked to him properly once he returned. You had tried, really really tried to stop the threatening tears but Regulus sat beside you in a second and said- “Hey I’m not my brother. I would never leave you. I promise, even if my parents send me to a different school.” And you had cried. For the first time in your life you had cried in front of someone. You sat there weeping as Regulus held you.

Years passed and you found your own little group. Regulus stayed true to his word. He was the best friend you needed when you were at your worst. Your other best friend, (Y/f/n) was there for you through the light and dark times. You found yourself being content, even though the hole Sirius left was never filled, you almost never found yourself craving it. It was simple. Sirius did not talk to you and you didn’t him.

***

You were sitting in the library going through some books for homework when you heard a cough behind you. You turned to see Remus awkwardly smiling at you.

“I-er wanted to thank you for yesterday.” Remus said.

“It was my duty, but okay you are welcome.” You said off-handedly as you continued your work.

“I didn’t even say it.” Remus said smiling.

“Well,” you said finally looking at him. “I understand that you were going to. I just thought your friend wouldn’t like you talking to a Slytherin.”

“Oh. He won’t come here. He is busy with some prank.” Remus said.

You raised your eyebrow and Remus's eyes widened.

“I- mean I don’t – I-“ Remus stuttered. You sighed.

“It’s okay Remus. We all break rules. Even though we are prefects.” You said making Remus relax.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Runes essay. God! This one’s tough.” You said rubbing your temple.

“Oh I completed that long ago. Let me help.” Remus said plopping down beside you.

“Why would you want to help me?” you asked.

“Consider it a payback.”

You spent hours in the library with Remus. He was intelligent and funny. He helped you with runes; the one subject you loved but had problems with. You found your walls breaking easily around him. you joked, you laughed and you completed all your work. You were brought to reality when Sirius and Potter came around. He was Sirius’s best friend. You would never be friends with him. Sirius frowned as he saw you. Of course! He wants you to be away from his friends.

“Oh hey guys! I was just leaving!” Remus said picking up his things. You smiled at him.

“It was nice studying with you.” He said turning.

“You too.” You said as you tried really hard not to look at Sirius who was watching your every move.

As you got to your dorm, you shook yourself. Why was it so damn hard to forget him? His eyes, his laugh that attracted you like a magnet? Why couldn’t you stop wishing for him to talk to you if only it was for a moment?

Over the next few weeks, Remus surprised you. He studied with you in the library when he wasn’t tutoring people. There was something about him that made you comfortable. You joked around easily becoming friends with him; even though you thought it could never happen. You met James sometimes; and loved his goofy personality. You had also seen Peter; whom you couldn’t get much. Everyone basically, except him. The boy who had made you go through the most extremist of emotions.The one boy who you thought knew you like no other.

***

It was hard. It was really hard. Sirius saw (Y/n) almost every other day chattering with Remus or James or Peter. Just not him. He wanted to talk to her. But he did not know how. What would he say? The guilt of treating her like shit ate him alive. He was an idiot for letting his best friend go. He could only imagine how much (Y/n) must hate him. He was stupid. So stupid. All he remembered was her happily hopping towards the Slytherin table and shaking hands with Malfoy. The same Malfoy he hated the guts of. He had thought then that she was just like his family, forgetting every single moment he spent with her. Every single thing she told him about herself.

When he realized his mistake, he was too late. He did not know how to go to talk to her, tell her how sorry he was. It became a habit. Pretending to ignore (Y/n). Even though his heart crushed every single time she walked by. He wanted one chance. Just one more letter. Just one more attempt by her to talk to him. Just one sign that she hadn’t lost hope on him. He whispered into the depths of the night for her not to lose hope on him . Wished upon every single power of earth, remembering how (Y/n) believed in energies and spirits. But it didn’t happen. She forgot about him. The thought made his insides churn and he cried himself into the night thinking about it.

It was like being so close to her yet so far away. He would hear Remus or James talking about her, and all he could think was she hasn’t changed. He craved it, craved her. He would see her in the great hall with him brother and his stomach would twist. He would be transported back to his childhood, when he held her soft hand telling her how she was the greatest friend he could wish for. Running after (Y/n) and Regulus, promising himself to protect them with his life. A promise he broke. And he would never forget himself for it.

***

It was a study session. You, Remus, James, Peter and Sirius were sitting together chattering away. Sirius didn’t know why his heart raced. He was hyper-aware of sitting so close to you for the first time in years. It was a cursed blessing. He got to hear you, remember how you used to be like; but you didn’t so much look at him. 

Peter had gone to get some snacks along with Remus. James had seen Lily and went to *charm* her. He was alone with her for the first time since he didn’t remember how long. Sirius looked at you. Were you always this beautiful? He wanted to say something. But what should he?

You picked up your bag and tried to leave. Sirius’s heart twisted.

“You cannot be alone with me even for a moment?” he said in a small voice.

(Y/n)’s head whipped towards him and her eyes widened.

“What?”

“Do you hate me so much that you cannot stand me even for a minute?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking this?” you snapped. It felt like everything you had buried long ago would spill. So, you stayed silent. Even though there were a whirlwind of questions that passed your minds. None of you said anything. You sucked in a deep breath.

“Why, Sirius? Why did you stop talking to me?” You said at last.

“Because I was an idiot. And stupid. I thought you would end up just like my parents.” Sirius said letting out a bitter laugh. You opened and closed your mouth several times not knowing what to say.

“I realized when it was too late. I- I didn’t know how to come up to you and apologise. For ignoring you. For treating you like a stranger. For tearing the letters you sent.” Sirius let out a shaky breath as tears prickled his eyes. “You loved writing letters. You always forgot something or the other you wanted to say and you wrote beautifully. I am sorry.” He sniffed.

“What are you talking about? Huh? You were the one who played that prank on me. You were-“

“The prank was on Snivellous. Not on you. You got at the place in the last moment. I wanted to tell you but you didn’t come out of your dorm for days.”

“You could have written me a letter.” you stated angrily.

“Never said I wasn’t an idiot.”

“What about Reg?” you demanded.

“My parents. They didn’t like me at all when I returned. Not that they did before. They punished me. If I talked to him, they would have done the same to him. It was better being the model child than a rebel like me.”

You both fell silent again.

“Why?” (Y/n) asked.

“I- I- It“ Sirius began, but was interrupted as Remus and Peter came back.

“Where’s James?” Remus asked.

“Chasing after Lily” he said with a forced smile.

***

Your head pounded when you reached your dorm. Sirius was sorry? It just felt to much. Just as you were ready to plop in and sleep you noticed a letter on your nightstand. Curious you opened it.

Dear (Y/n),

I never got to finish. I just want to tell you that this is in no way a plea for you to forgive me. I don’t deserve that. I am sorry. For everything. For acting like a asshole, even though you were the greatest friend I could ever have. For breaking god knows how many promises I made to you. I sometimes feel like if I wouldn’t say these things to you soon, I would burst. Because I wronged the one person who loved me like no other. God! I don’t even know whether you’ll read this. But if you are, I’m a pathetic person, you shouldn’t have had to go through me. I’m sorry you did.

Sirius.

You sighed.

***

Over the next few week, Sirius plucked courage to talk to you. Not much, neither of you dared to mention the beautiful forgotten friendship. He asked you how your day was, whether you ate. And that somehow was enough. Enough to make the two of you smile. You were confused, and still didn’t trust him. Sirius knew it and tried his best to mend things. You were awed at the little things he did for you. Saving you some food, when you were late to class; helping you with your week subjects, leaving random flowers pressed in your books. And you slowly started to give in.

***

It was Christmas eve and you had decided to stay back since your parents were travelling. You got up early to open your presents. Your parents had gifted you some paints from their tour. Reg and Remus a huge collection of sweets. James a huge bottle of firewhiskey which made you laugh. Sirius- Sirius had given you a book. Not just any book. Your favourite book. The very first edition and signed by the author. You grasped opening it. You could only imagine what must he have gone through to get it for you. How could he remember it? Your favourite book from when you were merely 10.

You ran. You ran overwhelmed with emotions that crushed you. You couldn’t bring yourself to care that this was the same person who ignored you. You knocked on the boys dorm. They muttered Christmas greetings but all you could see was Sirius. Standing there oblivious of torture he was making you go through. You pulled him into a bone crushing hug. Sirius’s heart paced. You were hugging him! He held onto you as his only lifeline.

“You’re an idiot.” You sniffed.

“I am an idiot.” Sirius repeated.

A/N: Let me know what you think!

[zaelous]

The noble and most ancient House of Black was both a family and a cult. A cult is a social group that is defined by its unusual religious, spiritual, or philosophical beliefs, or by its common interest in a particular personality, object, or goal. In the case of House of Black, this philosophy and its subsequent goals were a form of magical eugenics focused on the supremacy of so-called “pure blood.” Establishing these basic principles is important at the outset in order to demonstrate how these beliefs and the House of Black’s implementation of them are what make them not just a family of extreme beliefs but a cult whose practices affected Bellatrix’s sense of identity, self esteem, and motivations, effectively forming her personhood. 

I. PRINCIPLES BY DEFINITION

Eugenics is a set of beliefs and practices that aim to improve the genetic quality of a human population, historically by excluding people and groups judged to be inferior or promoting those judged to be superior. Positive eugenics is aimed at encouraging reproduction among the genetically advantaged; for example, the reproduction of the intelligent, the healthy, and the successful. Negative eugenics aims to eliminate, through sterilization or segregation, those deemed physically, mentally, or morally undesirable. 

Pure-blood supremacists believe that only pure-bloods were real witches and wizards, and were often inclined to consider themselves as the elite of the Magical world; a place in which they believed that Muggle-borns did not belong. More militant subscribers of this philosophy even consider themselves to be akin to royalty. Elitist pure-bloods even believed that it was a sign of weak magic to enjoy non-magical company. Those who are pure-blooded but do not ascribe to supremacist ideologies are considered to be blood traitors and are shunned. 

Shunning can be broken down into behaviours and practices that seek to accomplish either or both of two primary goals:

To modify the behaviour of a member. This approach seeks to influence, encourage, or coerce normative behaviours from members, and may seek to dissuade, provide disincentives for, or to compel avoidance of certain behaviours. Shunning may include disassociating from a member by other members of the community who are in good standing. It may include more antagonistic psychological behaviours. This approach may be seen as either corrective or punitive (or both) by the group membership or leadership, and may also be intended as a deterrent.

To remove or limit the influence of a member (or former member) over other members in a community. This approach may seek to isolate, to discredit, or otherwise dis-empower such a member, often in the context of actions or positions advocated by that member. For groups with defined membership criteria, especially based on key behaviours or ideological precepts, this approach may be seen as limiting damage to the community or its leadership. 

Concerted efforts at influence and control lie at the core of cultic groups, programs, and relationships. Many members, former members, and supporters of cults are not fully aware of the extent to which members may be manipulated, exploited, or even abused. While there is really no standardized diagnostic tool with which one can definitively say whether an organization qualifies as a cult, some social-structural, social-psychological, and interpersonal behavioral patterns can help to assess a particular group or relationship, in this instance the House of Black.

 II. PATTERNS OF CONTROL & DIVISION

 The group displays an excessively zealous and unquestioning commitment to its leader, and (whether he is alive or dead) regards his belief system, ideology, and practices as the Truth, as law. This is a trait more difficult to illustrate than others, since there is no one individual leader of House Black; however, it is the root of the House Black philosophy that their ideologies and beliefs are passed down generationally, presumably from medieval times (given their family tapestry). We do see a lengthy history of the family’s current patriarch (whoever it is at any given time) enforcing these ideologies on other family members by excommunicating anyone whom they deem to have fallen out of line with the House of Black doctrine. The fact that excommunication from the family is even a thing that exists and that it furthermore is seen as the ultimate form of punishment emphasizes two things:

Questioning, doubt, and dissent are discouraged or even punished. There is no room in the House of Black to politely disagree or hold any sort of discourse on ideals. Even at the tender young age of sixteen, Sirius was summarily blasted off of the family tapestry and considered a traitor by the Black family for expressing his malcontent and running away to the Potters, a blood traitor family. Any member of House Black is obliged to conform to their ideologies or be expelled, which is seen as the worst possible outcome. 

The most loyal members (the “true believers”) feel there can be no life outside the context of the group. They believe there is no other way to be, and often fear reprisals to themselves or others if they leave—or even consider leaving—the group. In a normative, healthy family situation, being formally dismissed from the group usually only occurs under dire circumstances and often even then doesn’t fully occur at all. The implementation of characters such as Sirius and Andromeda prove early on that the family’s dogmatic beliefs are non-negotiable and that deviation has consequences. 

The leadership induces feelings of shame and/or guilt in order to influence and control members. Often this is done through peer pressure and subtle forms of persuasion. This might be considered to be a more headcanon-y than explanatory point, given I don’t readily have any examples of shame or guilt being utilized directly, but given that these other points exist and are true within the narrative, it would be impossible for those things to have occurred without the use of shame and guilt to manipulate family members, even in occasions when it isn’t intended to deliberately. The peer pressure aspect of control is an especially pointed aspect of the situation, given that they are a family, having one’s entire family ascribe to certain beliefs and practices makes it a given. 

The leadership dictates, sometimes in great detail, how members should think, act, and feel (e.g., members must get permission to date, change jobs, or marry—or leaders prescribe what to wear, where to live, whether to have children, how to discipline children, and so forth). This is a point easily illustrated by again referring to the tapestry blasting incident(s), as it was up to the Black patriarch what should be done about betrayals, and he even further punished those who continued to support Sirius in violation of his ruling. However, it’s also common for House Black to arrange marriages between family members to those families whose ideologies align with their own, and if a suitable match cannot be found, to keep the blood pure by arranging marriages within the family itself. These marital practices tie in with other notable behaviors (elitism, polarization, isolation), but most importantly, they illustrate an aspect of positive eugenics, which is the practice of selective breeding. 

III. GENDER ROLES

The whole point of this excessively lengthy essay is to explain how and why selective breeding is canon and thereby explain my headcanons for Bellatrix’s relationship to her beliefs and her gender and why the two are inherently linked. The entire concept of supremacy and eugenics relies on the continuation of the genetic precepts that the supremacists view to be superior-- that is, there is an inherent obligation within these beliefs to carry on the pureblooded genes and to provide the future generation of supremacists. The brunt of this endeavor obviously falls upon women, as they bear children, but given the patrilineal and patriarchal nature of the family structure (and that of English culture in the 1950s), the implication is that rather than wanting women who can bear these children, the desire is for male heirs to carry on the family name and the family bloodline, which is their most sacred duty. 

Having been born a woman in the House of Black was to have been born with a form of original sin in that Bellatrix had already failed to be a male heir. Her only recompense for this initial transgression is to go on to provide male heirs, especially given that her mother died trying (and failing) to do so. While there is very little personal information available about Cygnus Black, we do know that his wife provided him with three daughters rather than a son, and died giving birth to Narcissa and left him to raise these daughters alone. Without a doubt, Cygnus would have viewed his failure to provide a male heir as a shortcoming, and given that his wife was dead, there was no way for him to vent his resentment on her. This is where we cross over into headcanon territory because I can’t prove anything about who Cygnus Black was as a person from the original text; however, it stands to reason giving the existing evidence and narrative structure (and how his daughters each turned out) that he was not a well man and that subsequently Bellatrix’s childhood was not a healthy or happy one as a result of that. 

As the oldest child, Bella had little in the way of protection from her father’s dictatorship, although she did her best to shield her sisters from it once she had sisters. She always took the brunt of her father’s expectations, and his wrath should those expectations fail to be met. This is why, of all the Black sisters, Bellatrix held her supremacist values and mission the closest to her heart, and why I believe she and Narcissa held such a close relationship despite the onset of Bellatrix’s very obvious descent into madness. I also believe this is the key difference between Bellatrix and Sirius: although they both came from House Black, they grew up to be polar opposites. I think it was Rowling’s intention here to illustrate that no matter where you come from, you choose your own beliefs and destiny and you can choose to be good rather than evil or some shit, but I don’t think it’s necessarily as clear as simply choosing a different set of beliefs. I think that Sirius and Bellatrix were raised in very different conditions that instilled the same beliefs differently, and therefore had a different effect. Then one might point out Andromeda, but there’s a difference there, too-- not only did she have Bella to provide a barrier between her and their father that Bellatrix did not have, but she also experienced love outside of the family, which is a whole other set of variables I won’t begin to get into. Suffice to say that falling in love is an external catalyst which can’t be accounted for, and it certainly didn’t happen to Bellatrix. 

As an adult, Bellatrix would have had a clear duty to take a pureblooded husband and provide him with male heirs. I do have a whole headcanon (which frankly deserves its own post but I digress) that she was first engaged to her Hogwarts sweetheart, but that he died early in the first war before they could be married, and as a result, her father arranged her marriage to Rodolphus Lestrange instead. This was not just to fulfill the whole get-married-have-babies mandate, but also because Bellatrix went mad with grief after her fiancé's death, and it’s really her first tangible, visible detachment from emotional stability. Her father’s solution to simply replace her fiancé might have been fine, had the couple not experienced infertility issues and been unable to produce children. 

Infertility is not so surprising when one takes into account the rampant inbreeding in both the Black and the Lestrange families. Generations of intermarriage in the name of blood purity is guaranteed to give a myriad of health issues, certainly not all of which might be cured through magical means. However, an inability to fulfill her duties as they relate to Bellatrix’s personhood would be, to her, an absolute and unmitigated failure on her part. Fertility issues are already an enormous strain without the added pressures of a bloodline to preserve, but especially given that Andromeda essentially defected from the cause, the responsibility lies solely with Bellatrix and Narcissa, and as the older daughter, the responsibility is once again heavily on Bella. Her inability to conceive disallows her from adhering to her most sacred principles, which Bellatrix views as a failure on her part and results in a definitive rift in her self esteem and identity that she could not repair. She is desperate to be good and pure by the standards in which she was raised, and to fulfill what she views as her destiny, but she is unable to, and this destroys her. 

IV. SYNTHESIS & RELEVANCE

Having been raised into these conditions, Bellatrix was conditioned into holding House Black and its doctrine at the forefront of her being. Because she held these beliefs so firmly and from such a young age, being a pure blooded witch is a part of Bellatrix’s identity and her self esteem. This is why any affront to these beliefs upsets her so much; it is a personal betrayal not just of these ideals but also of her wholly as a person. What made her turn on family members who had been burned off of the Black family tapestry was how personally she took their choice to leave. It was a personal betrayal, it was a publicly humiliating snub by someone who ought to have been on her side. Who did she have to rely on but family? The word family carries with it an expectation that they would die for the name Black and subsequently anyone who bore that name. Betraying the family was the same as a personal betrayal to Bellatrix, and was essentially spitting on everything Bella believed to be the most sacred and important obligations they held. 

These circumstances create the perfect candidate for an offshoot of the pureblood supremacy cult, the Death Eaters. In the context of the House of Black, Lord Voldemort would have been the obvious escalation and clear apotheosis of pureblood supremacist ideals. Since Bellatrix had already been raised in an environment where the ends justifies the means and violence was an acceptable and omnipresent tool (she had ancestors who literally tried to make muggle hunting a legal sport so it’s not a stretch to think that House Black implemented casual violence elsewhere), she was an ideal fit for an extension of that ideology that placed more emphasis on negative eugenics and moving into the extermination of those deemed unworthy of their society. 

V. AZKABAN

Following the conclusion of the First Wizarding War in 1981, Bellatrix was incarcerated at Azkaban at the age of 30, when she still had time to conceive a child. Her fanatical religious devotion for her cause convinced her that she would not be in prison for very long, but as she passed the decade mark, it would have been very clear to Bellatrix that if she were having fertility issues in her twenties, having aged past forty would make it very nearly impossible to get pregnant once the dark lord finally came to rescue them. Perhaps her belief in his infinite power led her to believe that Voldemort could magically fix whatever was the impediment to conception, or perhaps, having long given up on conceiving a child, Bellatrix viewed this failure as a reason to prove herself, a reason that she had to be the most dedicated, the most accomplished of his followers-- because she had failed in all other aspects and this was all she felt she had left to contribute to the pureblooded cause. 

Either way, her spent youth would have clearly marked her failure in what she viewed as perhaps the most important endeavor in life, and one might suggest that her regression to a child-like state of mind following her traumatic incarceration in Azkaban could be an unconscious response to her desire to return to her youth in order to fulfill this expectation of her; or a desire to return to a time when she was not a failure but instead could still be of value to the ideologies in which she was raised and through which she viewed her purpose in life. 

One could also surmise that Bellatrix’s recklessness in battle and her willingness (and possibly eagerness) to die for the cause of her pureblooded messiah might be due to this failure and the hope that at least if she died before the onset of menopause, it could be said that she was murdered before she could fulfill her duty, rather than being accused of having failed at it altogether. It’s also worth mentioning that her father had died while she was in Azkaban, and with his death, she lost any opportunity to finally earn his love and approval. 

[senadimell]

If you've got time to share, I'd love to hear more about your thoughts around Snape and Lupin.

@deathdaydungeon, here you are!

After a conversation with @frederick-the-great, I’ve been thinking about Lupin, Snape, and what they say about morality in HP. I’m not talking about the troublesome white hats, black hats morality, but am instead looking at from this angle: Lupin is nice and well-liked, but often lacks a backbone, whereas Snape is mean and disliked, but incredibly brave. Which is more important? I find Harry’s last sacrifice to be a useful point by which we measure their impact.

Lupin and Snape useful to compare on several important fronts.

As foils for each others’ teaching methods

The way they deal with social disadvantage

Their connections to Harry’s father and how they pass on James’ legacy

1) They both teach at Hogwarts, and are foils for each other in many ways. Snape is mean and takes away points. He’s seen as selfish. His classes are hard and unpleasant for Harry. He’s mean to Neville, and rather than encouraging him, mocks him and belittles him, which just adds to the overall disaster of Neville’s poor self-esteem mixing badly with potions class.

However, even Umbridge admits that Snape’s teaching methods work, and she’s working for Fudge who doesn’t like Death Eaters and has been defied by Snape in GoF, so we know he’s effective for a lot of people, if not Neville.

Yet, for all that, Snape saves Harry’s life multiple times. On top of that, Snape wants to keep the fact that he saved Harry’s life a secret.

“Very well. Very Well. But never--Never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it, I cannot bear...especially Potter’s son...I want your word!

My word, Severus, that I will never reveal the best of you? Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, anguished face. “If you insist...”

DH 679, The Prince’s Tale

Conversely, Lupin is nice and rewards points. He’s seen as generous. His classes are fun and interesting for Harry. He’s kind to Neville, and expresses confidence in him that leads him to succeed and do well. That confidence is a huge part of Neville’s character development. I doubt he’d grow into the resistance leader in DH if not for the many times teachers expressed confidence in him, like Dumbledore in PS, Lupin in PoA, Fake!Moody in GoF, and Harry in OotP. Harry certainly approves of his methods:

“You’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had!” said Harry. “Don’t go!”

PoA 424, Owl Post Again

However, it’s worth noticing that Hermione does worse on his exam than we ever see. She fails the Boggart test, and she and Harry were the only two people not permitted to experience the Boggart in class. Lupin’s teaching methods aren’t foolproof. Despite that, he’s overall seen as a nice guy and good teacher.

Yet Lupin endangers Harry’s life. The secrets he keeps are dangerous: his secret to keep is that he’s a werewolf and  actively endangered three students lives with his negligence, as well as the fact that he hid a secret about a believed and convicted mass murderer to save face with Dumbledore.

“That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you’d given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?”

“A thought that still haunts me,” Lupin said heavily. “And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless--carried away with out own cleverness.

“I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore’s trust, of course....he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmasters would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others’ safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month’s adventure. And I haven’t changed...

Lupin’s face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. “All this year I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn’t do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I’d betrayed his tryst while I was at school, admitting that I’d led others along with me...and Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using Dark Arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it...so in a way, Snape’s been right about me all along.”

PoA 355, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Plan is emphasized because those trips that ended in “near misses” weren’t some impulsive romp. They were planned and coordinated in advance.

“I just saw Hagrid,” said Harry. “And he said you’d resigned. It’s not true, is it?”

“I’m afraid it is, said Lupin. He stared opening his desk drawers and taking out the contents.

“Why?” said Harry. The Ministry of Magic don’t think you were helping Sirius, do they?”

Lupin crossed to the door and closed it behind Harry.

“No. Professor Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives.” He sighed. “That was the final straw for Severus. I think* the loss of the Order of Merlin hit him hard. So he--er--accidentally let slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast.”

“You’re not leaving because of that!” said Harry.

Lupin smiled wryly.

“This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents ....They will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you...That must never happen again.

“You’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had!” said Harry. “Don’t go!”

PoA 424, Owl Post Again

What strikes me about this conversation is how Lupin shifts the blame around. This doesn’t start with an admission of guilt. He’s not leaving because the parents are right. He’s not leaving because he’s seen how dangerous he can be, or because he owns up to making an incredibly dangerous decision. He’s leaving because Snape forced his hand. If Snape didn’t do that, he would do the same thing he’s always been doing: sweeping his misdoing under the rug and promising himself privately that he’s going to change, but never doing it.

It’s always someone else’s fault for Lupin. That’s a neat tie in to the next point of comparison:

2. Lupin and Snape both experience marginalization in wizarding society, but in very different ways. Lupin faces socio-legal** marginalization and Snape faces socio-economic marginalization.

Lupin’s a werewolf. We see how prejudice affects his life, from his inability to find a job and his worn out clothes to his people-pleasing nature. He’s always acting nice and harmless. He does nothing to play into the condemning stereotypes he’s faced since childhood. Despite that, he still can’t find a job. Nobody will hire him, and people are scared to interact with him. From the way he talks about werewolves, it’s implied that this prejudice is held blindly across Wizarding society. Both Ron and Hermione are horrified to learn Lupin’s a werewolf. *** Later on, he’s legally limited in the kinds of jobs he holds and the kind of magic he’s allowed to perform. Lupin has no control over his transformations, and did not choose his condition.

Lupin’s not really wrong when pities himself. The odds really are stacked against him when he’s treated as if he’s a wolf 24/7, not just a few predictable times a month. His prospects are honestly awful.

The problem is, his condition is dangerous. Thus, the issue of victim blaming is particularly thorny for Lupin. He can’t just accept that he’s a monster for something he has no say over, and yet he can’t escape the fact that sometimes he is monstrous for reasons out of his control. He feels guilty for the people he could have hurt, but also seems to resent that people blame him for something that’s not his fault. The problem is that he carries that lack of accountability into spheres where he should be accountable, like not taking his medication and endangering children because of it.

Snape’s story is very different. He is poor in both the wizard and muggle worlds, and half-blooded, and was sorted into Slytherin as a child. He doesn’t have one condition against him, but checks boxes that make it hard for any one side to accept him. He’s too impure and poor to survive on his own for the Slytherin, but is a Slytherin with Death Eater friends and housemates interested in dark magic, which means he’s never going to fit in with the Order of the Phoenix crowd, especially when some of its members torment him at school. ****4

 This essay makes a convincing point that the wizarding world is not a meritocracy, and that people like Snape need powerful patronage to advance if they don’t have the money to support themselves.

I don’t consider the sorting a proper choice. I know Harry does, but I’m of the opinion that at age 11, very few people have been taught how to analyze different perspectives and make an informed decision. Most 11-year-olds are trained to obey their parents and accept their family’s ideology. Harry’s choice rests on very little evidence--most of what he knows is what Hagrid told him, and that he doesn’t want to be sorted into Voldemort’s house along with Draco Malfoy, someone who reminds him of Dudley. I don’t think Snape was very informed either (I’d love to know why), because he doesn’t realize why it Lily wouldn’t be sorted into Slytherin.

“You’d better be in Slytherin,” said Snape, encouraged that she had brightened a little. DH 671, The Prince’s Tale

Either the pureblood rhetoric just wasn’t strong in those days, or his mother didn’t tell him about that.

...“Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?”

James lifted an invisible sword.

“’Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’ Like my dad.”

Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him.

“Got a problem with that?”

“No,” said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy--”

DH 671-2, The Prince’s Tale

It seems that most people just follow familial preferences. As to why Snape wants to be in Ravenclaw over Slytherin, my preferred interpretation is that he had a family legacy, knew that Slytherin rewarded the ambitious and clever, and that Slughorn, the head of Slytherin house, had a knack for making the kind of connections that a poor, clever boy would need to succeed.

Nevertheless, once Snape was in Slytherin, the odds were stacked against him. The house in that era was full of people who would later be Death Eaters. “Dark Magic” wasn’t frowned upon among his housemates, and siding with Voldemort wasn’t yet widely acknowledged as a transgression by wider society.

“No, no, but believe me, [Sirius’ parents] thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having pure-bloods in charge. They weren’t alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things.…” OotP 112

Additionally, people like Bellatrix were in the years above him, and given how Fred and George acted with younger students, I think it’s highly likely younger students had to find a place in the hierarchy or be the target of ‘pranks.’ He was a halfblood, after all, and dirt poor.

Snape knew these people. He ate with them, slept with them, and went to class with them. It is so much easier to understand and befriend someone you spend time with. I’d say that most people who subscribe to problematic ideologies aren’t just awful to be around all the time, or else these movements wouldn’t gain any traction. They’re likely funny and nice to be around if you’re not on their bad side.

In addition to strong peer pressure to befriend the people who would be death eaters, he was also bullied four to one. His bullies received protection from the headmaster when he was nearly killed or permanently maimed. They were popular and well liked.

The best analogy I’ve heard to describe Snape's Hogwarts situation is that he’s a kid in a rough neighborhood who joins the local gang. It provides protection and the hope of social mobility, and from his perspective, the other gang fights just as dirty (his treatment by the marauders). He doesn’t stop to think that the system is flawed, or that the gang’s very existence indicates the failure of authority and threatens its members. He just sees himself as a kid with nothing who needs help with protection and advancement. We know that Voldemort hasn’t shown his true colors, and it’s possible he showed different faces to different people.

‘Now, yer mum an’ dad were as good a witch an’ wizard as I ever knew. Head Boy an’ Girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst’ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get ’em on his side before ... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin’ ter do with the Dark Side.

‘Maybe he thought he could persuade ’em ... maybe he just wanted ’em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Hallowe’en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ – an’ –’ (“The Keeper of the Keys”)

Dumbledore’s cited as the reason they turned him down, not their blood status. I think there’s evidence that the wholesale anti-muggleborn campaign wasn’t a huge part of the first wizarding war, and wasn’t implemented until the second, even if there was anti-muggle propaganda. (Muggle=/=muggleborn). It’s implied that Tobias is abusive and that Snape hates him for what he did to him and his mother; it’s implied that faced class prejudice by the muggles around him as well:

“I know who you are. You’re that Snape boy! They live down Spinner’s End by the river,” she told Lily, and it was evident from her tone that she considered the address  a poor recommendation.

DH 665, The Prince’s Tale

When you read stories about people who are able to escape cycles of gang violence and poverty, there’s almost always someone who lifts them out. There’s someone who pushes them, or extends a hand, or believes in them. There are community outreach programs, or churches, or an English teacher that pushed them to do better and try out for a scholarship. That person is usually someone who knows what it’s like and knows how hard it is to get out.

Snape doesn’t seem to get that support anywhere. Slughorn doesn’t seem to notice him, for whatever reason. Lily doesn’t approve of his friends, but also doesn’t understand at all what the pull is--that it’s hard to swim against the current of what everyone else is saying, despite the fact that she feels the same pressure to end her friendship with Snape.

“… thought we were supposed to be friends?” Snape was saying. “Best friends?” “We are, Sev, but I don’t like some of the people you’re hanging round with! I’m sorry, but I detest Every and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, he’s creepy! D’you know what he tried to do to Marry Macdonald the other day?”

DH 673, The Prince’s Tale

In the very same conversation, the fact that Snape is not allowed to share what happened to him with Lupin and the werewolf incident means that Lily will never be able to understand what Snape is facing: That the leader of the good guys makes excuses for and protects people who recklessly endanger the lives of others.

“And you’re being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Wollow, and James Potter saved you from whatever’s down there--”

Snape’s whole face contorted and he spluttered, “Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends’ too!...”

DH 674, The Prince’s Tale

Later in the year after SWM, she tells Snape this:

“None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you.”

DH 675 The Prince’s Tale

She expects him to reject all of his classmates and stand against the tide, despite the fact that she knows how hard it is to do that and can’t comprehend why he sticks with his classmates. She expects him to be grateful to James Potter as if what he did was altruistic, because the Headmaster swore Snape to secrecy and he keeps his promises, despite the fact that someone else was spreading the story. (The fact that she says she heard it instead of talking about it like its common knowledge implies that she heard it from a friend, so our friends the Marauders likely weren’t keeping their lips zipped even if Snape was.)

I don’t say this to shift the blame away from Snape to Lily in regards to Snape joining the Death Eaters. I just want to point out that Lily wasn't someone who could help him break the cycle. He didn’t squander some chance she offered him. She just wasn’t enough to break him out--not empathetic, motivated, or well-informed enough. (I think the fact that they were peers plays a big role in that).

Ultimately, Snape did choose to join the Death Eaters. He did yield to peer pressure. He did obey his assignment and report the prophecy to Voldemort. He spent his youth yielding, following the path in front of him, and choosing what was probably the easier choice: stick with your group, find powerful friends, do what they want, and don’t ask too many questions about their methods. That’s what makes his decision to betray Voldemort so powerful to me.

Here’s part of the passage when Snape betrays Voldemort:

...The adult Snape was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for something or for someone...His fear infected Harry too, even though he knew that he could not be harmed, and he looked over his shoulder wondering what it was that Snape was waiting for--

Then a sliding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air. Harry thought of lightning, but Snape had dropped to his knees and his wand had flown out of his hand.

“Don’t kill me!”

DH 676, The Prince’s Tale

He was terrified. He knew he was caught between the world’s two most powerful wizards, but it was worth it if he could save his childhood friend.

Then when Lily dies:

“Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the share and color of Lily Evans’s eyes, I am sure?”

“DON’T!” bellowed Snape. “Gone...dead...”

“Is this remorse, Severus?”

“I wish..I wish I were dead....”

“And what use would that be to anyone?” said Dumbledore coldly.

DH 678, The Prince’s Tale

Whatever motivation Snape had before is gone. A person’s life who is not his own is worth more than his own, and he’s drowning in guilt. From now on, Snape works to be useful in saving Harry’s life, and later many lives, at risk of death. His choices are a black mark on his record, likely making it difficult for him to get a job when he’s been tried as a Death Eater, and all of his wizarding connections are Death Eaters or their associates. He has no money or influence. Dumbledore hires him.

So Lupin has a single ailment and faces constant social and legal discrimination. He constantly tries to undermine people’s expectations about werewolves by being mild, but unfortunately is too afraid of rejection and its consequences to stand up against bad behavior or take full responsibility for his failings. He has friends who support him, but do it by engaging in risky behavior. He does not stop them. Perhaps he fears exposure and expulsion. Perhaps he just likes belonging for once. Either way, he does not come clean until forced to.

Snape is different; instead of facing outright rejection, he’s from a poor background and grows up surrounded by peers who join something somewhere between a gang and a cult while being bullied by people groomed by a rival organization. The headmaster of his school supports the rival organization and swears him to secrecy about an incident when they endangered his life, sending the message that his life is worthless. That same group continues to publicly bully him. He continues down this path until he realizes that it endangers something he cares about, and makes a decision that puts him at risk of being killed by the two most powerful wizards alive. He changes course.

Snape seems to view his problems as challenges facing him, whereas Lupin sees his problems as part of who he is, and not something he can change. Lupin seems to accept what happens to him in a fatalist kind of way. He sees what happens as inevitable and somewhat out of his control, whereas Snape never seems to blame his circumstances for him becoming a death eater, even though they clearly limited his options. I think that attitude matters. However, because Lupin’s facing a fictional magical malady, it’s difficult to fully blame him for that attitude.

Both Lupin and Snape have to react to powerful societal pressure that makes it difficult for them to succeed. Comparing them is apples and oranges at best, because their circumstances were so different. I don’t think you can judge either’s morality based on group identity, though.

3. Finally, they both act as a window on James: who he was, and what he means to Harry, who never knew him. That means in some way, they help pass on his parental legacy to orphaned Harry.

Hogwarts is Harry’s home, which means that the teachers are more than just teachers, but play a symbolic parental role in his life.

Hogwarts was the first and best home he had known. He and Voldemort and Snape, the abandoned boys, had all found home here.

DH 697, The Forest Again

You can’t understand Harry without realizing what he lacks: a loving home and living parents. He’s always looking into the past to find his parents, and is saddled with a legacy he struggles to understand--why did he live, who were his parents, and what does he need to do now?

Lupin and Snape also share a connection with Harry that goes beyond a normal teacher-student relationship, unlike McGonagall or Flitwick. Snape and Lupin are more personally connected to Harry than the other professors because they know Harry’s parents and went to school with them. I will mostly focus on James from here on out since we know so little about Lily personally and Harry mostly tries to emulate or avoid his father’s behavior and legacy.

They’re also the last people who knew James to survive, and they die almost at the same time. They’re the only teachers apart from Dumbledore who give Harry private lessons. More importantly, these lessons are all tied thematically to Harry’s past. Harry’s experience with dementors and the patronus charm are his first re-encounter with his parents and his past.

Terrible though it was to hear his parents’ last moments replayed inside his head, these are the only times Harry had heard their voices since he was a very small child. But he’d never be able to produce a proper patronus if he half wanted to hear his parents again.

PoA 243, The Patronus

In the end of PoA, Harry sees himself and mistakenly thinks it’s his father.

“Come on!” he muttered, staring about. “Where are you? Dad, come on--”

But no one came. Harry raised his head to look atet he circle of dementors across the lake. One of them was lowering its hood. It was time for the rescuer to appear--but no one was coming to help this time--

And then it hit him--he understood. He hadn’t seen his father--he had seen himself--

Harry flung himself out from behind the bush and pulled out his want.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” he yelled.

PoA 411, Hermione’s Secret

So the patronus itself is linked up with Harry’s past, and his coming-of-age. He doesn’t rely on others to save him, but must do it himself. (Though Harry’s never really trusted the adults to save him.)  It’s interesting to note that Harry actually learns the Patronus charm under Lupin’s tutelage.

On the other hand, Snape introduces Harry to the unpleasant side of his father’s legacy. Through Snape, we see that James wasn’t just a little cocky, but a bully.

“Apologize to Evans!” James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him. “I don't want you to make him apologize,” Lily shouted, rounding on James. “You're as bad as he is.” “What?” yelped James. “I'd NEVER call you a--you-know-what!” “Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can--I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.” She turned on her heel and hurried away.

....

He had no desire at all to return to Gryffindor Tower so early, nor to tell Ron and Hermione what he had just seen. What was making Harry feel so horrified and unhappy was not being shouted at or having jars thrown at him; it was that he knew how it felt to be humiliated in the middle of a circle of onlookers, knew exactly how Snape had felt as his father had taunted him, and that judging from what he had just seen, his father had been every bit as arrogant as Snape had always told him. OotP, Snape’s Worst Memory, emphasis added

It’s interesting note that Harry fails to learn Occlumency from Snape. (In fact, we never see Harry use magical skills he learned from Snape apart from Expelliarmus, which is...important). At the same time, he gains an important perspective.

You can’t have James without this part of him. However kind James was to Lupin, however brave James was when he saved his wife, he was neither kind nor brave when he bullied Snape. It’s uncomfortable and awkward, but it’s important.

When he had finished, neither Sirius nor Lupin spoke for a moment. Then Lupin said quietly, “I wouldn’t like you to judge your father on what you saw there, Harry. He was only fifteen —”

“I’m fifteen!” said Harry heatedly.

OotP

Harry rejects the idea that actively bullying someone is just folly of youth. He knows what it’s like to be disenfranchised. Regardless of what Snape and James’ relationship was, he didn’t deserve that kind of humiliation. And Lupin watched, and defends him. Harry has to grapple with that.

Ultimately, Snape and Lupin do more than just connect him to his past. They also teach him his two signature spells, Expelliarmus and Expecto Patronum. One saves his soul, and one saves his life and frees the wizarding world from Voldemort because of Voldemort’s fractured soul.

Snape and Lupin as moral counterpoints

How do we evaluate this:

“I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors--a coward.”*****5

DH 213, The Bribe

and this?

“Albus Severus, you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew.

DH 758, Seventeen years later

Ultimately, I don’t think it’s really that useful to pit two people with different backgrounds against each other. At the same time, they represent two different halves of a question: when it comes down to it, should we try to be kind or brave? I don’t think you have to pick one, but when pursuing the two, there are bound to be moments of conflict.

I always come back to the lyrics to Last Midnight from Sondheim’s Into the Woods.******6

You're so nice You're not good You're not bad You're just nice I'm not good I'm not nice I'm just right I'm the witch You're the world

Snape doesn’t care about being nice. I think this is where most non-Snape fans start pulling out the pitchforks and torches. Snape isn’t nice, and he’s not nice to kids. He’s not nurturing.*******7 He’s abrasive, allergic to coddling, and petty when he can get away with it. In fact, most of the people he’s ‘nice’ to are significantly more powerful than him, or someone he needs to be on good terms with.

Lupin is nice. He’s mild. He’s often kind. However, he often picks being liked over standing up for something.

What does that result in? He doesn’t stand up for Snape. The bullying continues and keeps Snape firmly on his path. He wins the respect of the Gryffindors with the Snape Boggart incident but loses whatever credibility he had to tell Snape to ‘put their past behind him.’

On the other hand, Neville’s bravery in DH was nurtured by Lupin’s confidence. Neville kept hope alive and led a rebellion. Lupin is one of the few adults that Harry fully respects and trusts up until the Grimmauld place confrontation. (He likes Hagrid and Molly, but doesn’t necessarily trust them to make decisions in their best interest, while he usually respects Lupin’s judgement). Harry loves him, and it’s because he loved him and watched him die that he needs to act and fight back against Voldemort.

Ultimately, Harry’s relationship with James and the adults who pass on his legacy is one of the most important symbolic relationships in the book. The thematic resolution of the series is Harry’s act of sacrificial love.

He did not know what to feel, except shock at the way Snape had been killed, and the reason for which it had been done....

...He could not bear to look at any of the other bodies, to see who else had died for him. He could not bear to join the Weasleys, could not look into their eyes, when if he had given himself up in the first place, Fred might never had died...

He turned away and ran up the marble staircase. Lupin, Tongs...He yearned not to feel....He wished he could rip out his heart, his innards, everything that was screaming inside of him.

To escape into someone else’s head would be a blessed relief....Nothing that even Snape had left him could be worse than his own thoughts.

DH 660-662, The Prince’s Tale

He rushes to the headmaster’s office to escape into Snape's memories. His memories convince Harry that sacrificing himself is the expedient thing to do, and he heads to the Forbidden Forest. To enable is last sacrifice, he uses the Resurrection stone to witness his parents and his father’s friends. Their combined testimony is enough to ameliorate his personal fears about following through with this final act.

Lupin and Snape leave entirely different legacies behind. Lupin encourages and inspires. As an authority figure, he gives people like Neville space to grow and his compassion towards Harry gives him the strength to face his demons. Harry’s decision in DH to die must have something to do with the kindness he was shown, and the sacrifices people who loved him made for him, of which Lupin is a part. Despite what he saw in Princes’ Tale, Snape wasn’t one of the people who’d make an appearance with the Resurrection stone.

Yet Snape sacrificed his life for Harry and the wizarding world, entities that Snape didn’t seem to like and that certainly weren’t kind to him. His form of bravery is about endurance, tenacity, and willingness to do what is right even when you hate your allies and no one else is going to credit you for what you do. And that’s very Harry. Even if he hates Draco, he’s not about to let him die if he can help it. Harry has much more in common with Snape than Lupin, I think.

Since this is about souls, let’s return to the Patronus charm. Snape’s not the kind of person who typically inspires that kind of emotion required to cast a Patronus in others, at least from what we see in Harry’s perspective. Yet because he has experienced that love, he can cast it and shows Harry what needs to be done. Snape enables Harry to dive under the ice. Lupin’s the kind of person who can inspire a patronus, but isn’t the one to make the sacrifice play until after Harry confronts him about his duty to his family. Ultimately, though, they both sacrifice themselves in the Battle of Hogwarts.

* Ever since I realized how blatantly tangential Order of Merlin must be to Snape’s character motivation, that line has frustrated me to no end. There’s no way frothing-at-the-mouth PoA Snape just really coveted that Order of Merlin. He’s often petty, yeah, but if Lupin believes it’s just about that and has nothing to do with Snape’s real conviction about how dangerous Lupin’s actions were, he’s deluding himself. I hate that he passes it on to his students.

**Yes, I am making up words today. Lupin’s faces prejudice and discrimination on a social level enforced by increasingly powerful discriminatory laws.

*** It’s worth noting that if we take every book as equally valid canon, then there’s either widespread ignorance towards lycanthropy, as Lockhart convinces everyone he was able to “cure” the Wagga-Wagga werewolf, and as teenage Horcrux!Riddle said Hagrid raised werewolf cubs under his bed, or else lycanthropy is actually a wide range of conditions under a wolfy umbrella ranging from treatable to incurable. Lupin is our primary source for lycanthropy: he’s the one who tells us about Greyback, for example. If we hold the first two books as equally valid, then perhaps we only know about Lupin’s particular type of condition. That’s the Watsonian analysis, anyways.

****4 These footnotes are getting ridiculous. Basically, there’s no consensus on what Dark Magic is, and on what basis it’s Evil. This essay goes into things that are labelled as curses. I’m inclined to believe that the vast majority of Dark Magic is just Magic We Don’t Like for Reasons.

The definition of what is and isn't considered Dark Magic is never explained: often it just seems to mean "a curse I don't approve of".  Even "curse" has never been satisfactorily defined, but we can certainly say that not all curses are regarded as evil, since some appear to be on the Hogwarts curriculum, and are certainly performed without censure.

*****5 While I paired the quotes at the top of this section together for dramatic effect, it’d be a shame not to look at the context of the Lupin fight.

“I thought you’d say [that your mission was top secret],” said Lupin, looking disappointed. But I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to. Harry hesitated. It was a very tempting offer.

Hermione then asks about Tonks.

“I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually”... ...“I’d never have believed this,” Harry said. “The man who taught me to fight dementors--a coward.”

...“Parents shouldn’t leave their kids unless--unless they’ve got to.”

...“I know I shouldn’t have called him a coward.”“No, you shouldn’t,” said Ron at once. “But he’s acting like one. “ “All the same...” said Hermione.

“I know,” said Harry. “But if it makes him go back to Tonks, it’ll be worth it, won’t it?”

He could not keep the plea out of his voice. Hermione looked sympathetic, Ron uncertain. Harry looked down at his feet, thinking of his father. Would James have backed Harry in what he had said to Lupin, or would he have bene angry at how his son had treated his old friend?

DH 213, The Bribe

Harry feels personally betrayed that someone who has a family and child would abandon them. Here he is unyielding and accusing to someone he cares about in the hopes that they re-evaluate what matters. It’s a rather Snape-like tactic, actually. Or else a Dumbledore one.

I love the dialogue in this scene, but have some major issues with how Harry’s internalization drops out the window for shock value. JKR does the same thing when has Harry pull the Veritaserum trick in HBP. I don’t like it.

******6 The witch and Snape aren’t perfect analogues, since she’s decidedly more amoral in my opinion, but they’re both contractually-motivated characters whose humanity is shown by their (platonic/familial) love for a more “innocent” character and the guilt at the innocent character’s sacrificial death. Guilt doesn’t lead the witch to do anything productive, and for Snape it does, which is where they diverge on the character path.

*******7 Draco may be an exception to this. However, watching Snape struggle to build rapport with Draco in HBP leads me to think that while Snape’s been on Draco’s side, he’s still not “nurturing,” or in other words, good at cultivating trust and encouraging the strong and wholesome parts of someone’s personality to grow.  

[mundungs]

ϟ.  → robert sheehan : genderfluid : he/they/she : dealer of illicit objects and substances : the raven by the alan parsons project ϟ  did you see mundungus fletcher ? you know ,  31 year old halfblood who was formally in ravenclaw. some say dung can be quite furtive but are known to be unreliable. they are aligned with the order .  maybe that’s why they remind me of naming stray cats, flicking a lighter over and over again, falling asleep on the subway. ϟ 

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ciannán o’donnell is a flighty man, one of many relationships and flings and little loyalty, and so his affair with maeve fletcher does not last long. when she tells him she is pregnant, he moves on to a different woman, and maeve has her son alone, with her sister on her side. and thus, mundungus is born (and giving an arguably atrocious name).

he grows up with his mum – a halfblooded witch and by far his favourite person in the world – in limerick, attending muggle school there. he knew who his dad was, but wasn’t quite sure how to feel about — his father is a criminal, a prominent member of the irish mob. 

he meets his dad for the first time at age seven, and was nothing but impressed. his dad showered him with gifts, his mum watching with a furious look on her face but biting her tongue. that moment was a switch for mundungus; he felt the need to impress his dad. he stole some sweets from a store on his way home from school a week later, fished some pennies out of the pockets of his classmates a few months later. when he phoned his dad to tell him, his laugh was warm and filled with life. his relationship with his dad got better as his behaviour got worse. the thrill of stealing, of doing stuff he wasn’t supposed to, lit him not only on fire because it was exciting, but also because he knew his dad would adore it. 

but ciannan, a flighty man, pushes and pulls. and so mundungus was fed disappointment by his father, liking love off a shiny knife rather than a spoon ( silver or plastic, what the fuck does it matter ). details omitted, long story made short: his dad sucks and his mother tries, but mundungus is pulled towards that what smells of danger.

DRUGS MENT. at hogwarts, dung is sorted into ravenclaw. not at all the booksmart type, he falls more into the chaotic-creativity, random-bursts-of-wanting-to-learn-everything-about-something type of ravenclaw. there’s two worlds, then: the muggle world, where he slowly dips his water further in criminal waters, and the wizarding one, where he’s chaotic and messy but a student. when he grows older, these overlap: dung starts selling some of his dad’s weed at hogwarts, and soon gains a reputation of being able to get people less-than-legal shit. 

not getting high off your own supply is not a sentiment he agrees with. not then, not later, not now. dung is fun, always in for a party and willing to supply the goods to throw it. if some rich purebloods lose a few galleons at said party, well, it sure isn’t him! END OF TW

he graduates with two newts, in herbology and potions, failing his dada and charms exams. he’s not an academic.

falling into the family business after graduation is easy. mundungus is attracted by the criminal underworld, both that of muggle ireland and that of the wizarding world. knockturn alley was a place frequented in teenage years, but now becomes more his place. he makes connections, exchanges strange potion recipes for other things. makes an odd wager on a bunch of stolen brass scales and turns a profit. 

a career is not something that interests him; he is more interested in bending rules and making quick money. thievery, selling illegal shit, heists, fraud, fuck-all. mundungus is not limited by one descriptor, one kind of criminality. he just does what he wants and hopes to make a good penny.

but then he almost gets sent to azkaban over some, in his frank opinion, bullshit. it’s dumbledore who talks the wizengamot out of it, saddling dung up with some community service and persuading him towards the order. he’s twenty three. the war is still fresh. he has no interest in it, but he owes the old man. fine.

mundungus does vehemently oppose blood purity and any kind of discriminatory ideals, an anarchist in his very bones, but he is also cowardly. to side with self-proclaimed rebels is not in his blood and yet it’s where he ends up, bringing shady ties to the underworld to the table and a sheer ability to sneak around and fuck the law. and maybe, amidst the ranks of the order, dung finds something he’s not very familiar with: a large family. and dung? well, he’s the stoner, gay, super-fucking-chaotic cousin.

personality

if jesper fahey and kaz brekker had a child, it would be dung. 

other character parallels: fezco ( euphoria ), boris ( the goldfinch ), doug judy ( b99 ), jason mendoza ( the good place ), chris miles ( skins ),  nick miller ( new girl ), creed bratton ( the office ), scott lang ( marvel ), lillian ( unbreakable kimmy schmidt )

technically he’s homeless. he’s got a bedroom at his ma’s place, has a ton of squatter connects in the muggle scene and couch surfes aplenty, but dung doesn’t rent a place. why? landlords are evil. he could afford a place, just doesn’t see the point. life’s better with some adventure.

appears very neutral in public as it’s beneficial to his role in the order??? 

.... tortured artist. writes poetry and loves to draw and paint. 

tattooed the fuck up. some are his own designs.

can usually be spotted wearing The Coat, a rly expensive, vintage long coat that he once stole of a pureblood. he’s enlarged the pockets with some handy spellwork and pretty much carries everything he owes in there, like his produce and his money and his second pair of shoes and his art supplies and probably some random trash. 

loves animals. he loves stray cats especially <3 they are his kin. 

an anarchist. a bit of a punk. a deep idealist with a cowardly heart so constantly betraying himself (and sometimes others?)

queer! enby! genderfluid! i used he/him pronouns throughout this intro but dung truly doesn’t give a damn what u use. loves to dress up in feminine clothes. 

has a ton of aliases, lol, the most important one being marigold fincher. 

cusses too fuckin much to be healthy :/

oh no he is a big sad insecure kid deep inside :/ dont tell anyone how embarrassing!!!! shhhh!! it’s a secret.

quick connection ideas

victim. wow please. if your character is rich. let me steal from u. pick ur pockets. break into ur house. get some of ur stuff and drop it on the black market. 

customer. dung sells. whatever u need. drugs. weird magical things. ask and ye shall receive. his prices are whack but he does deliver <3

pal. party friends! order friends! random encounter friends! dung has a trashmouth and loves to talk pls let him chat u up and u will never be rid of him <3

couch. he couch surfs. a lot. if ur character trusts dung enough to let him into their home (which they shouldnt) then pls let him sleep over for a night. he will leave a strangely expensive necklace on ur kitchen table as a thank u. or wilted flowers. no in between.

skeptic. ur char is in the order and thinks dung is a liability and maybe they have a point. a point mundungus would rather not face :)

dmle bitches. dung hates anyone authoritative but esp the coppers at the ministry (hit wix & aurors) (yea he calls them coppers sorry he doesnt respect them enough to call them aurors <3). give me that doug judy/jake peralta dynamic. or just someone in the dmle who is like ... sigh this guy again??? 

fwb/one night stand/fling/etc. he’s a bit slutty <333 give him some ppl he’s hooked up with / will hook up with.