#Lord Dawlish

[scotianostra]

On 17th August 2010 Bill Millin, piper to Lord Lovat at D Day, died, aged 88.

Millin had left Sandyhills near Glasgow to join the Highland Light Infantry, Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders, No. 4 Commando.

On June 6th 1944, the 21-year-old had been ordered to play against the wishes of the top brass. He was the personal piper to Lord Lovat - who, despite there being a ban on pipers being allowed on the frontline, defied the War Office's orders and brought him to Sword Beach.

Pipers were banned from being on the frontline during the Second World War because of the number of casualties seen during the First World War. The enemy figured out that the piper helped boost morale to the Allied troops, and they were slaughtered because of this. This led the War Office to restrict their presence in camps as well as on the frontline.

After the war Bill settled in the lovely wee devon town of Dawlish, the museum there has his pipes on display as seen in the second pic, the first shows Bill at Edinburgh Castle in 2003.

The first pic is Bill, reunited with Josette Gouellain in Ranville, Normandy. The two met 50 years ago when Josette asked bill to play something just for her. The Scot complied with "The Nut Brown Maiden" in admiration of the little girl's hair and eyes.

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | 31: Important tasks

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Insecure MC / minor character death/ Nagini does a gobble gobble A/n: Last year y'all! The story is coming to an end :( [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

Like a reflex, your eyes shoot open as the first water droplet hits the window. You glance at the glow-in-the-dark arms of the clock on your nightstand. 2:41 it reads. 

With your pillow under your arm, you paddle across the hallway, towards the end. You don't knock when you enter the bedroom and you can easily navigate around the furniture in the dark. Siding under the covers, you fluff up your pillow before pressing your face against Theo's back.

He hums, turning towards you and draping an arm over your middle. "What are you doing here?" His voice is low and drowsy.

You burrow yourself further into his embrace. "It's going to storm", is your simple answer. A sleepy laugh rumbles through his chest. It's the same answer you always give when you curl up next to him.

Because the truth is, despite being engaged to each other, you're not allowed to sleep in the same bed. They want little pure-blood Heirs of Slytherin running around, but not out of wedlock. 

Nonetheless, the two of you entangle your limbs and sleep almost every night together. 

And nobody says anything about it. They don't dare to. Somehow, you've instilled fear in the Dark Lord's followers by just existing. The one good thing about it is that they leave you alone. 

"There's another meeting today." You tuck your hands under your face and look at the dark-haired boy next to you. "Wormtail was sent to kidnap someone today. I've heard their screams when walking around the Manor."

A shiver runs down your spine. Theo says nothing, he tugs you on top of him and wraps both his arms protectively around you. "We have to be careful. Of everything we do", he whispers, his voice wavering. 

You say nothing, rubbing your cheek against his chest like a cat. The two of you stay like this for hours until the sun shines through the windows and gives your face a golden glow.

Theo caresses your chin and cheek, tracing over the scar left behind by the Boy Who Lived. You turn your face away so he's no longer touching it. But Theo takes hold of your chin, forcing your face towards him. He tries to meet your eyes, but you keep them downcast.

"Listen... listen to me. Your pretty face and I are going to survive this. Do you understand me? And every scar, wound, or other injury, we're going to wear them with pride. Because we're survivors."

He gives you a look that tells you he's not messing around. A small smile blooms on your face, making Theo smile in return.

The mood at the table is tense. If it was not for the floating Hogwarts teacher, then is it for the fact that Snape is late and the Dark Lord is losing his patience. When the said man finally arrives, he takes place on the left side of the Dark Lord, his blank eyes meeting yours.

"You bring news, I trust."

"It will happen Saturday next at nightfall."

"I've heard differently, my Lord." Everybody's heads are turned to the other side. "Dawlish, the Auror let it slip that the Potter boy will not be moved until the 30th of this month", Yaxley goes on, his hands clasped together. "The day before he turns seventeen."

Your eyes flicker to Theodore, who's between Yaxley and Nott Sr. Theo's eyes are focused on the blond man next to him.

"This is a false trail", interjects Snape, "The Auror Office no longer plays any part in the protection of Harry Potter." Snape turns towards the Dark Lord, "those closest to him believe we have infiltrated the Ministry."

A Death Eater pipes up. "Well, they've got that right haven't they?" A laugh rumbles through the room.

"What say you, Pius?"

The Imperiused man on the other side of the table focuses his glassy eyes to the best of his ability towards the Dark Lord. "One hears many things, my Lord. Whether the truth is among them is not clear."

The Dark Lord lets out a chuckle. "Spoken like a true politician. You will, I think, proven most useful, Pius." His attention flickers back to Snape. "Where will he be taken, the boy?"

You zone out. It's what you have noticed is most effective for keeping sane during all those meetings. You get pulled out of your trance for a moment as the kidnapped 'guest' in the cellar lets out a yell. But it's not until you feel the Dark Lord's hand trail over your shoulder that you pay attention again.

He stops next to Lucius, holding his hand out for him. "My Lord?", squeaks the blond man.

Voldemort mocks your uncle. He reaches his hand out, "I require your wand." Once he receives the wand, he snaps the ridiculous snake head off and throws it on the table.

He points the wand at the floating teacher, bringing her to a stop over the table. "For those of you who do not know, we are joined today by Miss Charity Burbage who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts. Her speciality was Muggle Studies."

You look in fear as the Death Eaters around you laugh mockingly. you know Professor Burbage, very well in fact. Muggle Studies was one of the ways you defied your family's ways. 

"It is Miss Burbage's belief that Muggles... are not so different from us. She would, given her way, have us mate with them."

His speech falls on deaf ears. Your breathing has picked up as you look with big, scared eyes at your Professor. One of your most beloved professors. Her face is morphed in pain as her body is contorted in strange ways. Your bottom lip trembles as she locks eyes with you before moving on to Snape.

You can see her lips move, begging for her life, but the words don't register. With a quick green flash, her dead corpse falls on the table. Professor Burbuga's lifeless eyes stare at you, a tear rolling out of her eye.

"Nagini... dinner."

The snake slithers up the table, through your legs. Everybody pulls their hands away from the table as she makes her way towards the teacher. She opens her jaws and pounces upon the body, ripping her to shreds.

"Young mister Nott." 

Your head snaps from the Dark Lord to the now pale-as-a-sheet Theo. He gives you a look before focussing on the man at the head of the table. "Y... yes, my Lord?"

The Dark Lord has a small sadistic smile on his face. "You are expected to join us, next Saturday in the capture of Harry Potter."

Theodore swallows. "Of course, my Lord. It will be an honour."

"Am I also to join?", you ask, finding your voice.

But the Dark Lord shakes his head. "No, my Heir. I have a far more important task for you."

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry  @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore​ @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @raineisms @mastermindmiko @timmytime17 @regsg18 @supernatural-lover @bubybubsters @lafrone @hermionelove @the-sander-fander @akengii @aliciacat20 @unstablereader @burns-in-the-sun @rachelnicolee @damagelove @mqndrqke @llpovi @clairesjointshurt @222244445555 @jolly4holly

[toilet-reviews]

Dawlish Warren

08/03/2024

These particular lavatories, i had low hopes for. And rightfully so. They were appalling. Well the toilet itself was alright, but there were no shelves or hooks. disappointment. The flush was a tad dodgy but whatever it worked in the end. The sinks however, were even worse. good lord. I may as well have walked over to the sea and washed them with limpet meat for soap, that wouldve been more effective than this useless good-for-nothing sink. it had the smallest stream of water, ZERO soap, and it felt like it was blowing out 5 air molecules as a substitute for a hand dryer. pathetic. I had to dry my hands in the freezing cold, very strong, wind. They had okay decor, basically what you'd expect from a town that makes seaside tourism its entire brand and personality.

3/10

[dhr-ao3]

A Tale As Old As Time

A Tale As Old As Time https://ift.tt/NmvqpQo by dracoxcoffee After Voldemort’s fall, Hermione Granger is the only one left standing. The Dark Lord might have been slain by her hand, but everyone she had loved has been burned to ashes. She alone is left to live a life amongst this world’s ghosts. It’s then that she decides to hunt down the Time Turner that Dumbledore gave during her Third Year. Perhaps if she goes back far enough, she can fix it all. Although, instead of going back to the moment in which everything went wrong, Hermione travels far enough that she knows she’s no longer in her world. Here, her friends look at her as if they’ve seen a ghost. Here, Hermione Granger is long dead. Words: 10434, Chapters: 3/37, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M, M/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, John Dawlish, Minerva McGonagall Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, BAMF Hermione Granger, Portraits, Order Member Draco Malfoy, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Good Lucius Malfoy, Minor Character Death, POV Multiple, Flashbacks, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Explicit Sexual Content, Healing, Angst, Strained Friendships, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Hermione Granger is Bad at Feelings, The Golden Trio, Good Slytherins, Occlumency (Harry Potter), Panic Attacks, Trauma, Implied/Referenced Torture, Snarky Hermione Granger, Quiet but Equally Snarky Draco Malfoy, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Song: Would've Could've Should've (Taylor Swift), Mystery, Harry Potter is Bad at Feelings, Betaed, No Ron Weasley Bashing, on another note, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, i'm a hater at my core, some other surprises - Freeform, No spoiling via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/PhHQK8q December 02, 2023 at 02:24AM

[tgyverse]

Aparente tranquilidad brinda la noticia que titula El Profeta esta mañana. Se ha dado con el paradero de les aurores desaparecides y el mundo aplaude lo ocurrido. Para el ojo común es una señal de buena fortuna, pero lo que se esconde detrás de ella es lo aterrador. Regresan en perfectas condiciones, sin recuerdos de nada, sin un sólo rasguño, y aunque eso prende alarmas en varias cabezas, nadie quiere cuestionar más de lo necesario. Se les realizan estudios en San Mungo y en seguida se les brinda incapacidad por unos meses. Les extranjeres son enviades a casa. Todo es felicidad y calma. Nadie sospecha de la verdad detrás de sus rostros.

Por supuesto que se ha orquestado todo. En búsqueda de infiltrarse al Ministerio de Magia, Lord Voldemort ha comandado a sus seguidores a hacerse pasar por les desaparecides, mientras elles continúan escondides en una ubicación que sólo les enmascarades conocen. La nueva es aplaudida en todo el mundo, sin indagar la veracidad de su aparición. Al fin y al cabo aquí se encuentran y todo está bien, ¿no es así?

𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐫 𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚...

Como se ha indicado, un grupo de mortifagos se hará pasar por les aurores desaparecides, tomando control completo de sus vidas. Esto es gracias a la poción multijugos; recuerden que la misma posee un par de limitaciones: Se debe tomar una dosis cada hora y aunque el aspecto físico cambie, la voz se mantiene igual.

Así mismo nuestres usuaries con mortifagos escribirán a sus personajes de la siguiente forma: Antonin Dolohov será John Dawlish, Bellatrix Lestrange será Angela Finnigan, Rabastan Lestrange será Fabian Prewett, Amycus Carrow será Finnick Snow, Alecto Carrow será Alice Longbottom, Yvette Lévesque será Dorcas Meadowes y Barty Crouch Jr. será Frank Longbottom (escrito por la administración mediante el Blog de Intervenciones).

A pesar de que les mortifagos estén falsificando la identidad de les aurores, también deben aparecer como elles mismes para evitar sospechas, ¡no lo olviden!

¡Pueden abrir starters conforme a la trama! No es necesario utilizar ningún tipo de título para los mismos.

Cualquier duda estamos a un mensaje de distancia, ¡gracias!

[lazuli-writes]

Verdict

summary: Daphne has to sit through Ron’s trial

pairing: Daphne Greengrass & Ronald Weasley

genre: angst / fluff / slice of life

estimated word count: 3300 words

a/n: Remember folks, copying other people’s works is plagiarism and that’s illegal. Don’t be that kind of person. Anyways, hope you all enjoy it :)

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

“Do any esteemed members of the Wizengamot wish to further question the defense of Lord Consort, Ronald Bilius Greengrass?”

Daphne smothered the immense rancor that sought to swallow her whole as she witnessed the trial before her. Her fists clenched, sitting on her lap as her knuckles shined white. Her eyes, pools of bronze fire. Thinned lips and her spine, tight and aligned perfectly. The scowl on her face was nothing more than apparent. Her breathing heavy yet silent. The ire within the witch’s soul barely contained as she watched the asinine, tedious, and irrevocably moronic excuse of a trial take place.

She wanted to be happy, joyous, hopeful at how Ron was assured of his release. Especially after the court replayed a collection of memories from herself and Percy. As well as the contrived entrance of the believed-to-be-dead, Madam Amelia Bones. Nothing could quell the fury within her however, as she looked down at the thin, iron cage. Barbed and for sure enchanted, holding her disheveled and gaunt husband. 

It had barely been a couple of minutes after being released from St. Mungo’s when the insipid fool John Dawlish, waltzed in and arrested Ron. She’d never forget that day. She’d never forget the dodgy prick that was John Dawlish, and how he was just ‘following orders’ to ‘collect all leads’ on presumed death eaters. The way Ron—heavily supported by both her own arms and that of a cane—seemed content in kissing her nerves away, caressing her worries out of her thoughts. As if she hadn’t just been told that Ron would be arrested for being a suspected monster. That he’d await his trial not in some holding cell in that blasted ministry, but in FUCKING Azkaban.

Daphne promised him something in those short and bitter moments before he was led away like some damn game waiting to be slaughtered. Promised she wouldn’t rage over him. Promised she wouldn’t exact some form of petty revenge on Dawlish, or Head Auror Robards or even that blasted excuse of a minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt for not stepping in sooner. 

Of course she didn’t keep that damned promise.

Auntie Muriel’s visit to the Ministry not even an hour after Daphne’s floo call was supposedly something of a furor if she remembered correctly. Dawlish was nearly sent running for the hills as he saw Lady Muriel Prewett lead her close friend, the Lady Augusta Longbottom, into the auror office. Dawlish’s ego and knackers still sore from being nearly obliterated when he tried to apprehend Augusta a year prior.

Daphne figured that would have been enough of a ruckus if she was out to defend a friend. Had it been for Tracey or even cousin Theo—had they survived the war—then that would have been sufficient. But not for her husband. Not for the wizard Daphne had come to love. Not for the epitome of an honorable and loving man that Daphne called her’s. 

And so some missives here, some owls there and a couple of floo calls later, had the entire Weasley clan up in arms at the atrocious behavior exacted on the youngest Weasley son. Daphne even considered bribing the Daily Prophet, but she knew better than to waste a knut on the vulture that was Rita Skeeter.

There was Arthur and Percy Weasley, Daphne’s least favorite and most favorite of Ron’s relatives, respectively. Both eager in Ron’s defense. Arthur, entering a near screaming match with Robards himself. All the while, Percy traveled to France with Audrey. Gathering testimonies and support from the refugees Daphne and Ron both aided in the past few years.

Molly had her wand out and ready, her sons William and the twins at her flanks, as they had cornered Minister Shacklebolt in the atrium. The way the Weasley matriarch’s voice reverberated in the halls of the ministry was almost intoxicating for Daphne. Watching as the tall and sturdy man called minister almost toppled, struggling to answer Molly’s bombardment of threats and questions. Enjoying as Robards had been chastised publicly amongst the crowds of the atrium by Arthur, Shacklebolt, and even Potter. She almost screamed in glee at how Dawlish fidgeted as glares from both Robards and Shacklebolt shined down upon him. Daphne could almost call it a victory.

But Ron still had spent three days imprisoned before an appropriate amount of the Wizengamot could attend and instigate a proper trial. Hence Daphne’s current predicament. Her bitterness at Ron’s treatment was intensifying as Daphne stared at him. 

Those rags they called a uniform did nothing to warm Ron. She was sure of it. Three days out of the hospital and he looked ready to spend another tenure there again. Lips chapped, cheeks gaunt, black bags beneath his eyes. Shoulders slumped, body shivering, right arm holding his stomach. Hair matted and messy, his metal arm that replaced his amputated left nowhere to be seen. His bandages that rode up two-thirds of his left leg—still healing from Bellatrix’s blasting curse and splinching from his escape of said curse—now were dirty, maroon, damp and possibly overused. Daphne seethed at the mere thought that he would have caught an infection. The shine in Ron’s right eye was no longer there. It looked almost as dull as the blinded left eye of his.

Yet he still smiled. He smiled as he caught Daphne’s brown orbs. His smile, reassuring. Genuine and so softly filled with love. Daphne only got angrier, so embittered at how someone as sweet as Ron, was forced to endure so much. It wasn’t fair.

“Seeing as there are no objections, may the vote commence.” Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, the current overseer of Ron’s trial, commanded.

Daphne felt the woman beside her tense up, obviously filled with dread at the more negative possibilities that could happen. Molly Weasley was in the same boat as she, visibly enraged, fearing every worst possible outcome of either verdict, bitter at Ron’s continued torture in this life. Daphne couldn’t blame her, the elder witch has had a rough few months.

Daphne never thought her relationship with someone such as Molly would flourish the way that it did. The Lady of Greengrass had recognized the moment she met Molly back in fifth year, that she didn’t appreciate Daphne’s presence. Granted, Daphne did believe it may have had something to do with how rotten her connections to Fred, George and Ginevra were all that time ago. Daphne guessed however, that believing that your child was dead for some time might give some perspective.

Daphne would never admit it, but seeing Molly rush through that hospital room door, tears racing down her face, jaw shivering and eyes hopeful. It was pleasing for Daphne to see someone in Ron’s family still caring about him, with as much devotion and love as she had for the red headed wizard.

•••

“RONNIE!?”

The younger witch jumped as the door to the fourth floor room slammed open, eliciting a tiny shriek from Daphne.

Before her stood a sobbing mother, Molly Weasley. Daphne hadn’t seen her since her and Ron’s secret attendance at William’s wedding. Back then, the Weasley matriarch was the epitome of a tough and winsome mother. A witch at the possible height of her glory. Now, the Prewett daughter stood with tears racing down her face, chest heaving out quick and heavy breaths. Hair, slightly littered with grays and white, within the sea of red. Eyes large, wet and shining… glimmering with hope.

“M-Mrs. Weasley?”

Molly was stock still, staring down at the blonde witch, who sat exhausted in a chair next to the empty bed. 

“Where is he?”

Daphne barely heard her, unused to the mouse like whispers coming from the typically loud matriarch. 

“Ron?”

Molly nodded her head fiercely, wiping away at the rivers that streamed down her face.

“He’s in surgery right now.”

Molly collapsed to the ground at that, her sobs taking precedence as she shook almost uncontrollably at Daphne’s words.

Daphne shot up from her seat, ignoring the tiredness in her chest and the ache in her legs. Quickly coming to the elder's aid, Daphne tried her best to calm her down, but Molly was relentless in her eruption of emotion. Sorrow, elation, melancholy, joy. Molly was a roaring ocean of uncontrollable sentiment as the news of Ron’s life took her off her feet. 

It took a while—consistent circle rubs of the back, some hugs, some whispers and coos of comfort and relief shared amongst the two witches—before Daphne could successfully aid her unknowing mother-in-law to a chair to sit. Once the mother gathered a semblance of composure, she finally looked to Daphne.

“How…”

Daphne cocked her head in confusion.

“How… How did he survive?” Whimpered Molly. Leaving Daphne even more confused at the direction of the conversation.

“What do you mean Mrs. Weasley?” Daphne  was nothing but lost, completely and utterly perplexed at Molly’s question.

“I-I… I thought h-he-“ Molly sniffled hard, wiping away at the renewal of tears that threatened to spill. Daphne held her breath, starting to depict at what the Weasley matriarch was inferring. 

Taking another moment to regather her composure, in a painful and soft voice, Molly finished her qualm, “I thought my son was dead.”

Daphne, leaning back against the bed as she stared down at the sitting Molly, was now motionless, internalizing Molly’s words. The mere thought of such acting as knives, skinning away bits and pieces of her soul. Ron wasn’t dead. He barely survived the battle, but still he did. And now he was for sure going to survive this surgery and series of rituals to aid in his healing. Back-to-back dealings with a blasting curse, splinching and a dark magic infection was not something so easily dealt with. But she was adamant in Ron’s strength. He was gonna survive again. He will live.

“Why did you think he was dead?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask. Refocusing her attention on the woman before her, throwing any possible dark thoughts out of her mind. 

“Fred and P-Percy… they said Bellatrix had thrown a blasting curse his way. T-That he didn’t make it” Molly paused, sniffling slightly before continuing, “all they found was his wand and a crater.”

Daphne felt it all click in her mind, understanding fueling her lungs as she thought of Molly’s words. 

They didn’t see Daphne pull Ron back. Ron had barely succeeded in apparating his brother’s and himself away from that exploding wall. They weren’t expecting Bellatrix to join Rookwood in his assault on the three brothers. And so when Rookwood took his turn to duel both Percy and Fred, Bellatrix unleashed her fury on Ron. Enraged at Ron for Daphne’s role in what happened at Malfoy Manor. Daphne internally screamed at herself, still regretful for her role in Bellatrix’s miscarriage. Because of her, Bellatrix attacked Ron. Because of her,  she failed to pull Ron completely out of harm. Because of her, Ron had splinched and still suffered getting hit by some of the debris from that blasting curse. Because of her, Ron was here in St. Mungo’s, and Daphne had no clue for how long. And the guilt only culminated in that moment when Daphne realized… Molly and perhaps Ron’s entire family believed him to be dead… ever since the battle. That was a whole fortnight ago. 

“I apparated him out of the way. As the explosion happened.”

Molly closed her eyes, silently thanking all those above as she digested Daphne’s words. Her son, her baby boy, her Ronnie is alive. The terror and burden of burying one of her children was all for naught. The noose of a parents' pain was unraveled and Molly couldn’t help but feel like breathing again, if only for a bit. The fight wasn’t over in Molly’s eyes. Ron was still fighting for his life. And by everything right and good in the world over did Molly hope, pray and beg that Ron would survive. That he would come back to her. 

“Mrs. Weasley…” Daphne asked, hand on Molly’s shoulder, eyes searching for a sign that Molly was alright, “are you okay-”

Daphne was cut off by Molly’s body suddenly smothering her. Arms wrapping around brutally, bringing Daphne’s head in a soft embrace of Molly’s shoulder. The elder’s arms wrapping around in a snakelike grip. Holding Daphne close as the blonde felt wetness spill upon her hair. It took Daphne only seconds to realize that Molly was sobbing silently as she kept Daphne in a blustery hug. 

“T-Thank you Daphne!! You saved my boy!”

Daphne barely registered Molly’s words as she just simply returned the hug, trying and failing to match Molly’s ferocity in the act of hugging. If she didn’t die over her constant worrying for Ron, then Molly was sure to kill her with the way she squeezed Daphne into a mush. 

Eventually releasing one another, Daphne leaned back as Molly sat down, both regathering themselves. In that moment, Daphne’s culpable aura compelled her to apologize. 

“Mrs. Weasley… I am so sorry. Had I known I… I would have alerted at least one of you of the truth. That he was okay.”

Molly smiled as she shivered, accepting but also dismissing her words, for the mother held not a drop of ire for the blonde witch. 

And from there, the two witches sat in a comfortable stupor. Exchanging stories and thoughts that were left unsaid. Molly apologized profoundly for her coldness towards Daphne at that dinner two years ago. Daphne relayed her regret for not doing more to alleviate Ron’s stressful relationship with his family. Molly gave her condolences for Daphne’s and Ron’s loss of both family and friends—Daphne had teared up at the reminder; Astoria, Theo and Tracey were gone, Ron was all she had left. Daphne commended the elder on her defeat of Bellatrix. Molly explained how she had thought that “bitch” had stolen her son from her, and how the “bitch” attempted to take her daughter as well. Daphne revealed the truth in Bellatrix’s sudden obsession for Weasley blood and her role in it. Molly only smiled softly, taking ahold of Daphne’s hand and squeezing it in consolation.

Curiosity struck both women at the same time as they each asked the heavy questions that weighed down on each other’s minds. 

Molly queried over Ron’s surname, asking about why when she arrived, there were no one listed as a patient, under the name of Weasley. Not the way Daphne would have preferred Ron’s mother finding out the young couple married but it was what it was. Daphne was more uncomfortable having to explain why Ron took her name versus she taking the name Weasley. ‘He didn’t want to give a name he was deemed unworthy of.’ Molly had tried to hold her tears back… she failed.

Daphne inquired about Molly's discovery of Ron being.. alive. Molly simply said ‘My Clock. My clock never lies.’ leaving Daphne to fill the blanks in by herself. Of course she questioned further, leaving Molly to explain how ever since he had been disowned and thrown out, Ron’s hand had remained firmly on “Traveling” even after his false demise, it remained on the same spot. Until that day, it moved to “Hospital” as Daphne brought Ron in. This led to the blonde witch explaining that though she had healed most of the injuries he sustained, she hadn’t recognized that he was suffering from a dark magic infection that was reopening his wounds. This only furthered Daphne’s guilt at causing Ron more pain.

Hours of comforting words, innumerable questions, truthful answers and a calming peace had passed before the hospital room door opened. 

Molly gasped, shaking in her spot, new tears gathering at her eyes but not falling, as the form of her sleeping son was pushed in on a gurney. He was levitated unto his bed neatly and lightly before Molly moved forward. Laying a soft kiss and a couple of tears on his head. Gripping his right hand in her own as she held the warm flesh of her Ronnie once again.

Daphne didn’t miss the way Molly’s heart broke, trailing over Ron’s figure. His left eye, now blinded and closed, had the tiniest traces of thin scars. His entire chest, torso and left leg were wrapped in bandages, the conjoined smell of blood and healing potions releasing a stinging stench into the room. His left arm, completely lacking its defiled lower half. And still Ron lived. He just needed some time.

•••

Two months, two weeks, five days and eight hours was what it took for Ron to heal from his infection. For Ron to be able to stand on his own. To walk with little support other than another fellow or his cane. For him to adjust to having one working eye—Daphne still agreed with Molly in wanting to get him a magical glass eye but Ron had refused, and Daphne’s heart hurt too much to want to fight him on anything as of late. 

Dawlish must have thought he was lucky, cornering the young couple, the day of Ron’s release. Molly, Arthur or any of his siblings hadn’t stopped by yet for their usual visits, it was only six in the morning. Daphne wanted to hex him into the next century, but Ron kept her cool. Calmed her down. And now three days later, she watched the result of her letting Ron be taken from her.

“All those in favor of conviction, please raise your wand,” Not a single wand was held, granting a wave of appeasement to seep into Daphne’s soul. “All those in favor of clearing the defense of all charges, please raise your wand.”

Daphne figured that every single member of that Wizengamot possessed a fraction of a brain, for every person voted in Ron’s favor, solidifying the wizard as free.

“With that taken into account, I hereby pronounce the Lord Consort, Ronald Bilius Greengrass, cleared of all charges.”

Daphne didn’t wait for the closing formalities to take place, instead gathering her gown up into her hands as she sped out of the courtroom. She led herself to the auror’s department, awaiting for Ron to be released. The scowl on her face worked wonders in warning the many workers present to shove off.  Not that Daphne cared, her eyes focused itself on the fool Dawlish, escorting a limping Ron out from behind the cell hall doors. 

Enveloping Ron into her arms as soon as she could, Daphne sighed as she felt him all but sink into her embrace. With the way his head rested on her own, she’d never get over his height. The way his calloused hands held her ever so softly. Daphne could stay like that forever, and die with a smile upon her face. It wasn’t to last though, Daphne knew Ron needed help, and she’d be damned if she didn’t get it.

“I told you not to worry Daph.”

Daphne chuckled as tears began to escape, pulling back to overlook her love once again before asserting herself as his crutch. As Dawlish made his exit after retrieving Ron’s cane, Daphne helped Ron forward, heading inevitably for St. Mungo’s once again.

“How could I not Ron?”

It was Ron’s turn to chuckle, leaving a soft kiss from his chapped lips upon Daphne’s temple. 

“You know” Daphne looked up briefly, still trying her best to help Ron move forward, “I heard a rumor about a certain blonde witch… turning the ministry on its head after a certain ginger was locked up.”

“I have not the faintest recollection of what you speak.”

Daphne’s words elicited more laughs from the redhead. Daphne smiled hearing Ron’s giggles. 

“Not one? Not any at all?”

“None.”

With the way Ron laughed again, Daphne finally felt at ease. Finally allowing herself to calm down and accepting that everything might just be okay again.

[ao3feed-snape]

Lady Avery

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/huxj1ys

by althisDP

The Avery family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Its pure-blood members have traditionally attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and most of them have been Death Eaters - faithfull servants of the Dark Lord. Asher Avery - a proud and loyal member of Lord Voldemort’s narrow circle of friends since they were both young - has three children, though only one of them is special enough to honor her with a place next to her father during the First Wizarding War.

More than ten years later, shortly before Harry Potter’s arrival at Hogwarts, rumors of a ruthless killer who is wiping out the remaining Death Eaters while being tirelessly pursued by the Ministry of Magic reach the ears of Albus Dumbledore, who is deeply interested in the witch’s intentions.

The world is not ready for Lord Voldemort’s return, and those who believe he is still alive know that all help is little to try to stop him.

Words: 4725, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Avery Family (Harry Potter), Avery Jr. | Severus Snape's Schoolmate, Avery Sr. | Tom Riddle's Schoolmate, Mulciber Jr. | Severus Snape's Schoolmate, Mulciber Sr. | Tom Riddle's Schoolmate, John Dawlish, Cornelius Fudge, Harry Potter, Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Voldemort (Harry Potter), Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Argus Filch

Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s), Severus Snape/Reader, Severus Snape/Original Character(s), Severus Snape & Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Murder, Severus Snape Lives

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/huxj1ys

[mrslunasnape]

The Prince Fought The Serpent

Meeting

Chapter 16

Voldemort's chilling laughter filled the halls of Malfoy Manor. He and the Death Eaters had reconvened following the Battle of the Astronomy Tower.

"A glorious victory." Voldemort hissed

Bellatrix giggled and clapped frantically while the rest of the Death Eaters sat silently.

Draco sat between his parents, his head hung and his shoulders slumped. Narcissa seemed to be calmer now than she had in weeks past, no doubt relieved that her son had made it through his trial alive. Lucius on the other hand looked utterly disappointed.

Luna reached over under the table and placed her hand on top of Severus's. His face winced, his eyes glazed over, clearly lost somewhere else in thought. Luna gently caressed the top of Severus's hand with her thumb, which seemed to ground him.

"I wish I could have seen the old bat fly from the tower." Voldemort snickered as he raised his goblet above his head.

The Death Eaters followed suit and lifted their glasses as well.

"May he rot in Hell." Voldemort grinned and took a huge swig of wine.

The Death Eaters lifted their cups higher and nodded before taking sips of their own.

Voldemort turned his gaze to Severus, "I knew I could count on you, when other's fail, Severus."

Lucius flashed a disgusted look at his son.

"I want you to know that your loyalty will not go unrewarded. For you part in helping topple Hogwarts, I will make sure that you are assigned as the new Headmaster." Voldemort flashed a rotten smile, "A useful position of power for a useful subordinate."

Severus simply nodded, his eyes hollow of expression.

Voldemort's eyes darted towards Luna, "And you..."

Luna's grip on Severus's hand tightened.

"You exceeded my expectations. After losing your parasite, I expected you to either crumble or betray me." He took a casual sip of wine, "And yet here you are in one piece. You remained loyal and helped me to claim the school tonight. Looks like you might be worth more than tonics and stress relief for Severus."

It was Severus's turn to grip her hand.

"Now then," Voldemort continued, "What news do we have about Potter's seventeenth birthday?"

"My Lord, the Order intends to move Potter from the Dursley residents on Saturday at nightfall." Severus responded officially.

Voldemort's face contorted in a crooked smile.

"My Lord." Yaxley said as he leaned forward.

All eyes turned to him.

"I have heard differently." Yaxley continued, "Dawlish let it slip that Potter will not be moved until the thirteenth."

Snape smiled, "My sources informed me that the Order planned to leave a false trail. This must be it. Dawlish is a simple man, clearly he has been placed under a Confundus Charm."

"Dawlish seemed quite certain." Yaxley pressed.

"If he was Confunded, then naturally he would be certain. The Auror Office will play no further role in protecting Potter. The Order believes we have infiltrated the Ministry." Snape said coolly.

"Well, at least the Order's got one thing right, haven't they?" Yaxley cackled.

Several other Death Eaters laughed as well, but Voldemort remained deadly silent. His eyes moving back and forth from Snape to Yaxley in contemplative thought.

"Where are they moving the boy?" Voldemort finally said.

"To the home of one of the Order. It will be under every protection spell the Order and Ministry together can provide. It is unlikely we will be able to take him once he has arrived at that location. Unless the Ministry has fallen before next Saturday, which would help us to undo their half of the enchantments." Snape said.

"Well, Yaxley? Will the Ministry have fallen by then?" Voldemort challenged.

All eyes were once again on Yaxley.

"I have... with difficulty... placed an Imperius Curse on Pius Thicknesse." Yxley stuttered.

Dolohov let out a hearty laugh and patted Yaxley on the back.

"It's a start." Voldemort sneered.

"My Lord, as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Thicknesse has regular contact with both the Minister and the Heads of all the other Ministry departments. It will be easy to bring Scrimgeour down with him under our control." Yaxley rambled.

"They won't risk moving Potter through magical means. It would be too easy to track with a compromised Ministry." Snape added.

"They'll move him out in the open, no doubt. An easy target. I must be the one to kill Potter." Voldemort said coldly.

A shrill scream echoed through the hall, followed by the sound of a woman sobbing.

"Wormtail?" Voldemort barked.

"Ye-Yes my Lord?" Wormtail stuttered.

"Did I not tell you to keep our guest quiet?" Voldemort scolded.

Wormtail quickly rose from his seat, "S-Sorry my Lord." He could barely get the words out before he scrambled out of the hall towards the sobbing echo.

"As I was saying," Voldemort continued, "I require one of your wands to kill Potter."

The Death Eaters exchanged silent glances across the table, but no one volunteered.

"Lucius" Voldemort cooed, "I see no reason for you to have a wand any longer."

Panic washed over Lucius's face. He turned desperate to his wife, but Narcissa stared blankly ahead. 

Voldemort held out his hand, palm up, "Your wand, Lucius."

Lucius hesitated, but eventually reached into his robe and drew his wand. His hand shook as he placed it in Voldemort's taloned hand.

"What is it?" Voldemort asked, his head cocking to the side to examine the wand.

"Elm." Lucius whispered.

"And the core?" Voldemort prodded.

"Dragon heartstring." Lucius responded.

"Good." Voldemort said as he drew his own wand and began to compare their lengths.

Lucius reached for Voldemort's wand, but it was quickly snatched away from his reach.

"Did you think I was going to give you my wand? Really, Lucius?" Voldemort jeered. 

Several Death Eaters laughed.

"Is the liberty I've given you not enough, Lucius? Am I a burden to have in your home?" Voldemort pushed.

"No my Lord." Lucius faltered.

"There is no higher pleasure than having you in my family home." Bellatrix interrupted.

Voldemort turned to face her, a smirk on his lips, "Thank you Bellatrix." He stroked her cheek with a single finger, and Bellatrix looked as if she might melt.

"No higher pleasure," Voldemort continued, "What a compliment given your family's recent good news."

"Good news?" Bellatrix questioned.

"Why, the news that your niece has married the werewolf Remus Lupin. You must be so proud." Voldemort taunted.

The table erupted in laughter and Bellatrix's face went red with rage and embarrassment.

Luna's heart sank down an endless pit in her chest. Remus was married now. She questioned whether her pain came from pitiful residual jealously that he had moved on, or the fact that he hadn't bothered to invite her. Not that she could have gone. 

"Narcissa and I have cut ties with her." Bellatrix assured everyone.

Voldemort smiled wickedly, "Draco, are you going to babysit the pups?"

The rest of the table laughed even louder.

Draco turned to his father, who looked away from him. Draco's gaze then shifted to his mother, who had been holding the same deadpan face the entire meeting. 

"You'll have to do some pruning of your family tree." Voldemort tutted.

"At the very first chance." Bellatrix assured him.

Voldemort smiled and once again stroked her cheek, "And you shall have it."

Bellatrix's eyes welled up with tears of pride and she gave him a dutiful nod.

Voldemort caressed Nagini's head. Nagini's focus was on a dangle figure above the table, waiting patiently, ready to pounce.

Voldemort followed his pet's gaze, "Ah, yes." With a flick of his wand the figure sprung to life and instantly began to writhe. 

"Tell me, Severus, Luna, do you recognize our guest tonight?" Voldemort mocked.

All eyes in the room were now on the woman hanging upside-down from the ceiling.

"Severus! Luna! Help me! Please!" She shrieked, tears falling from her eyes and splashing on the meeting table.

"Yes." Snape said emotionlessly.

"What about you, Draco?" Voldemort prodded.

Draco couldn't bring himself to look up at the woman dangling above his head. He shook his head.

"Of course you wouldn't have taken her classes." Voldemort said, "For those of you who do not know, we are joined tonight by Charity Burbage. She taught children of witches and wizards that muggles were not so different from us."

Dolohov spat on the woman's face.

Charity once again turned her attention to Luna and Severus, "Please." she begged.

"Silence." Voldemort commanded, and with another wave of Lucius's wand Charity was gagged.

Charity wriggled and writhed in her bonds, a feeble attempt to escape that did nothing but cause her dangling body to spin above the meeting table like a baby mobile.

"This woman would have our kind mate with muggles and beasts like werewolves for her delusional idea of a better future." Voldemort hissed.

Dolohov once again spit on the woman.

"She preferred it that way. She claimed it strengthened our bloodlines to mix with the mudbloods and muggles." A devilish grin swept over Voldemort's face, "She would have hated your baby." Voldemort jeered as his eyes fixed on Severus and Luna.

Charity and Luna's eyes locked and Charity desperately shook her head in an attempt to convey to Luna something that she already knew: that his venomous words were simply untrue.

"Luna." Voldemort said in a sickeningly sweet voice, "Take care of her for me."

Luna's eyes darted to Severus, but she would find no solace in his face. Her hand shook as she reached into her cloak and withdrew her wand.

Charity attempted to scream and beg, but only muffled sobs slipped past the invisible gag.

"Go on." Voldemort pushed, his eyes lightening up with sick pleasure.

Luna stared directly into Charity's pleading eyes, her own pleading for forgiveness.

"Come on Luna." Voldemort pressured, "Kill her and maybe I'll even let you keep the next parasite."

Luna's upper lip twitched with contempt, and she channeled that rage into doing what she knew must be done.

Charity closed her eyes.

"Avada Kedavra." Luna whispered.

Charity's body went limp.

Voldemort's face lit up with pure ecstasy, "Excellent. Nagini, supper."

[naneki-maid]

my favorite part about Death on the Nile is like here we have a steamer where 3 murders have taken place on board, serial killer on the loose, undiscovered, and Mr. Ferguson has the audacity to choose this as the most opportune time to make a sudden proposal of marriage? like this guy is absolutely bonkers and I love it.

“I’ll be calling you Cousin yet.”

[drarryspecificrecsdaily]

2022.09.22

Complete fics posted on AO3 this day

1. Coffee and New Beginnings by greenflowerpot [?, 12k]

►Draco buys a café in a quiet suburb outside of London. He has moved on from his past and wants somewhere he can live, heal and be left in peace. Harry walks in one day with a bit of a surprise.

2. The Journal of Regulus Arcturus Black by gokioh [G, 141k]

►Draco didn't want to leave his home and denounce the Malfoy family name. But with the threat of the Dark Lord's rise at the end of Fourth Year, he had no choice in the matter. With the help of his mother and father, Draco takes on the name of his godfather, Black, and starts to live as a Neutral Party. But how neutral can one really be with the threat of war?

---

Fest/Exchange

1. Chasing unicorns, finding love by @sassy-cissa [E, 27k]

►When Auror Harry gets assigned a case of missing unicorn foals, it's bad enough that they are going missing in the Forest of Dean, a place Harry never wanted to revisit. But on top of that, Head Auror Dawlish wants to call in an expert from the Unspeakables. And of course, that expert is none other than Draco Malfoy... ★ Harry/Draco Reverse Bang 2022 | @harrydracobang

2. If You're Cold He's Cold, Bring Him Inside by Dazeventura6 [G, 7k]

►More than a decade after the war and Harry left the magical world for the muggle one he runs into a down-and-out Draco Malfoy living homeless on the streets and insists on taking him in. ★ Harry/Draco Reverse Bang 2022 | @harrydracobang

[recreancyrpg]

BASICS.

NAME. Alastor Moody AGE. 40 ALUMNI HOUSE. Ravenclaw BLOOD STATUS. Pureblood FACECLAIM. Oscar Isaac 

HISTORY.

Alastor Moody didn’t set-out planning to devote his life to fighting the forces of darkness. There was no childhood trauma to push him onto that path, no great loss that he felt compelled to avenge. It was curiosity that drew him to his career more than conviction - a curiosity that many (his mum, especially) insisted would be better served in the Department of Mysteries than in law enforcement, but Alastor had never been the head-in-the-sky type of Ravenclaw. He liked practical magic, the sort that got your hands dirty and maybe left a few scars but where you also knew you’d accomplished something. 

So he took his high N.E.W.T.s and his grubby-but-untarnished family connections and joined the Auror Department. It was interesting work, but it was still just a job -- until it wasn’t. There was no one big, defining moment that tipped the scales; Alastor just kept doing the work, fighting the necessary fights, learning the necessary magicks (can’t fight the Dark Arts if you don’t know the Dark Arts) and getting through the day. Eventually, he realized that it wasn’t curiosity driving him anymore as much as it was a calling. Not that Alastor considered himself a hero - and he’d snarl at anyone who dared say as much whether to his face or in a Prophet article about his latest arrest. No, there was just a job that needed doing and he was doing it. And doing it, and doing it... He was managing. Dark Wix were being taken down by him and his team, leaving scars along the way. Alastor thought that this was his life. 

Until a damn Dark Lord popped out of the woodwork and made everything worse. His job turned into war and the Ministry became a battlefield. He was approached by Albus Dumbledore early on to help start an underground group dedicated to fighting Voldemort - it was the only thing they could do when it was hard to tell friend from foe, even with the people who had sat next to you for years. Alastor is something of an expert in the Dark Arts - not the way dark wizards are, but all Aurors who want to live past their training know them a little and Alastor knew them better than most. Still, no matter how much he learned, he never found himself falling for their allure. People say that all those years digging into the deepest corners of the Dark have made him paranoid, but Alastor would argue that he’s not paranoid, just educated. If more people knew what was really out there, they’d be even twitchier than him. 

Maybe that’s why he’s not saying anything about Sirius Black and his little gang of Dark Arts users. Maybe that’s why he’s turning a blind eye, even when it’s right in front of his nose. He’s yet to get directly involved with them - he’d had to learn on his own so maybe it’s a good idea if Black and the others do the same - but he’s not putting a stop to it either, despite what some of the Aurors-turned-Order have to say about it. Alastor’s knowledge helps make him a solid leader for the Order, even if his tactics are a bit unconventional. He might be loud, but he’s just trying to get the members to understand the truth about this war they’re fighting. The energy that all these kids in the Order have is inspiring... but sometimes all they “inspire” in Alastor is the urge to bang his head against a wall for an hour or two. Still, he’s here - he’s fighting. He’ll probably die doing it. He’s not afraid to go... just wants to make sure he’s leaving the battle in capable hands before he does.

CONNECTIONS.

JOHN DAWLISH. The younger Auror thinks he has it all figured out and it’s infuriating. It’s only because of Alastor’s trust in the Longbottoms that he’d even allowed the kid into the ranks. John has a self-righteous sense of justice, which is frustrating when Alastor knows just how much the boy hasn’t seen. John’s appalled by the Dark Arts stuff, of course, but Alastor thinks that maybe he has thing or two to learn from Sirius Black. TED TONKS. Despite what people think about him, Alastor isn’t the kind of bloke who believes everyone should want to fight. He knows that Ted is hesitant to be here, but also gets the reasoning. Alastor may be a pureblood, but he’s a pureblood who has grown to understand more than most that this world just isn’t the same for muggleborns. It’s perfectly acceptable to want to survive - and that sometimes means keeping your head down. MUNDUNGUS FLETCHER. Boy’s gonna get himself killed or thrown in Azkaban - it’s only a matter of time. In fact, Alastor himself has arrested him more than once, but has always managed to get him off with a warning. The perks of being in the Order together, he supposes. Considering everything, Fletch is less of a threat than he lets on. Alastor’s more worried about what the kid will do to himself than to others. 

ALASTOR IS TAKEN.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 20: The battle against “Harry”

Chapter 20 of Different light

A/N- i liked how this turned out, hope you guys do too.

Warning- violence, angst, talks of pain and torture

Pairing- Harry Potter x Malfoy!reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

A dim orange light lit the drawing room, but the fiery light didn’t brighten the room, it left the room dim instead, just producing enough light to cast Voldemort’s silhouette on the large table as he sat in front of the fireplace. The hues were enough to make the small green gem on your ring to gleam.

And that’s all you could ask for. A simple distraction to keep you from looking at the unconscious human hanging upside down over the table, revolving slowly as if it was suspended by invisible ropes. Draco on the other hand couldn’t seem to keep his eyes away, he was still shaken and in disbelief by the sight. He was still frightened like you were.

“Severus,” Voldemort announced, making you pull your eyes from your ring to look at said man stopped under the archway. “I was beginning to worry you had lost your way. Come we’ve saved you a seat.”

Finally with the arrival of the last member, the meeting could finally start and lead to a faster end.

“You bring news, I trust?” Voldemort continued.

“It will happen Saturday next, at nightfall.” Snape announced the news to everyone that had been waiting. A piece of news that you hoped was never given, but nonetheless you knew it was inevitable.

“I’ve heard differently, my lord,” A man named Yaxley said in a gravelly voice. “Dawlish, the Auror, has let slip that the Potter boy will not be moved until the 30th of this month, the day before he turns seventeen.”

You swallow thickly and instead of glancing from speaker to speaker you glance back at your snake ring around your finger and begin to wonder about the boy they’re referring to. You wondered how he was, you knew the future of his safety was unknown, but you still hoped he'd be okay and safe, even if you were talking about harming him at the moment.

“This is a false trail.” Snape retorted, “the auror office no longer plays any part in the protection of Harry Potter. Those closest to him believe we have infiltrated the Ministry.”

“Well they got that right, haven’t they?” A man said with a wheezy laugh, his comment making mostly all the Death-eaters around the table laugh, but that was it, the term, mostly, Voldemort didn’t laugh, just like your family didn’t either. In fact Draco and you shared a judge filled look at the lame attempt at a joke. Those were the highlights of these dreadful meetings, hearing the death-eaters try too hard to impress, or one-up one another. Those moments wouldn't come regularly, but they’d find themselves here, so you enjoyed them when you could.

“What say you, Pius?” Voldemort asks the man at one end of the table.

“One hears many things my lord, whether the truth is among them is not clear.” Said man answers, making Voldmert let out a laugh.

“Heh. Spoken like a true politician. You will prove most useful, Pius.” Voldemort says before he looks back at Snape. “Where will he be taken, the boy?”

“To a safe house.” Snape continued to explain, “most likely the home of someone in the Order. I’m told it’s been given every manner of protection possible. Once there, it will be impractical to attack him.”

“Ahem,” Bellatrix cleared her throat, interjecting seconds after Snape. “My lord. I’d like to volunteer myself for this task. I want to kill the boy.”

You grow rigid and clench your hand you had been looking at, not daring to look at Bellatrix, nor at anyone else. You were afraid they’d catch that anger in your eyes, that sign of what they’d consider “betrayal against your own lord”. And even if you wanted to protest against it, or make an excuse to delay an attack, you knew not to. Everyone did...not like anyone else actually wanted to anyway.

Nonetheless before Voldemort could respond to Bellatrix’s wishes, a shout from a “guest” erupted, causing Voldemort to let out a booming shout of his own. “Wormtail! Have I not spoken to you about keeping our guests quiet?”

You sink in your seat at the sound of Voldemort’s shout that wasn’t even directed at you, and from the corner of your eye watch the man he yelled at quickly run off to do as he was told. It was shortly thereafter that Voldemort contiene to pick up on the conversation as if nothing had ever happened. “As inspiring as I find your bloodlust, Bellatrix. I must be the one to kill Harry Potter. But I face an unfortunate complication.” He says as he stands from his chair to begin walking around the table. “That my wand and Potters share the same core. They are, in some ways, twins. We can wound, but now fatally harm one another. If I am to kill him, I must do it with another's wand. Come, surely one of you would like the honor?”

No one dared to volunteer this time. No one dared to even speak or look up at Voldemort in fear he’d ask for theirs. After all someone’s wand was like their arm, taking the wand would be like taking one's arm. And even if you did magic without your wand, you also stood quiet and averted your gaze. Albeit as you heard him stop between your fathers chair and your own, the worry he’d pick you made you scared and made your body grow even more stiff.

“What about you,” Voldemort said in a calm voice, “Lucius?”

Relief washed over you, but this wasn’t better off. This choice your father couldn’t turn down was equally as bad.

“My lord?” Your father questioned as he lifted his head, letting the light of the fire bring some light to his pale face, and his hesitance as well.

“My lord.” Voldemort mocked. “I require your wand.” Voldemort insisted as he stretched out his hand through the space between your fathers chair and your own.

However your father glanced sideways at Narcissa. She looked at him and under the table she wrapped her fingers around his wrist. At her touch your father reached to pull out his wand to hand it to Lord Voldemort.

“Do I detect elm?” Voldemort asks as he feels the wand between his long, pale fingers.

Your father nods and whispers, “yes, my Lord.”

Voldemort then suddenly snaps the silver snake head off the wand, making you look away from them to look back at your hands on your lap.

“And the core?”

“Dragon-“ your father clears his throat and answers a bit louder. “Dragon heartstring, my Lord.”

Voldemort hummed and then threw the snake head on the table, backing away from your chairs to point the wand at the revolving person over the table, and giving the wand a small flick. The person then woke from their unconscious state and began to struggle as if stuck under invisible bonds.

“To those of you who do not know, we are joined tonight by Miss Charity Burbage who until recently taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her specialty was Muggle studies.” Voldemort explains as he begins to walk back to his seat. “It is Miss Burbage’s belief that Muggles are not so different from us. She would, given her way, have us mate with them.”

Some Death-eaters laugh at the ideology, but you find no humor behind it. Actually, you don’t even find it absurd. You knew you’d be disowned for admitting it, or just made fun of, but you really found no wrong behind it. Not like they all did.

“...to her the mixture of magical and Muggle blood is not an abomination, but something to be encouraged,” Voldemort shares as he sits down.

“Severus,” the professor begged, “Severus, please. We’re friends,” she cries.

Snape just glances at her with his dark eyes, with no emotion shown through them and watches the tears stream down her eyes. He simply looks away after a moment, letting Voldemort on the other hand raise the wand in his hand to yell out, “Avada Kedavra!”

Green light shoots out of the wand and basks the entire room in it’s bright green hue. The body crashed onto the table with a loud thump and made Draco and you flinch back, quickly moving your arms to reach for each other’s hands under the table out of shock and fear.

“Nagini,” Voldemort whispered, making the snake slither onto the polished wooden table. “Dinner.”

——

“I thought you said you believed Narcissa,” Clementine says as you walk past her to place an old book on the small glass table.

“I said that “it would be beneficial if I did” I never actually did. Not really anyway.” You take a seat on a stool and pull the book towards you, unwrapping the cloth around the large book and reading the title on the leather cover, ‘Malfoy family tree’.

“And why should she,” Blaise defended you as he walked towards the round table. “Of course even if it was a lie, do you really think they’d tell the truth? I mean would you?”

Clementine looks away from the book in front of you and looks up to her brother now across from her. She stays silent for a moment, surprisingly so, and debates with herself whether to answer her brother or not. Her dark eyes gleam under the yellow string lights overhead and show the heated glare pointed at Blaise. “I guess it depends on the situation doesn't it?” Clementine smacks her lips and sighs. “If there's something to hide I wouldn't.” Clementine sits down at the same time her brother does and you catch a smirk on her lips. “Why are you so keen on helping y/n anyway Blaise?”

Said guy shrugs and grabs his cup to take a long drink before answering nonchalantly. “Because I’m bored.”

You lift your eyes from the book to look at him, narrowing your gaze slightly before glancing at Clementine and seeing her smile mischievously at you. “What?” You sigh.

“Nothing,” she shakes her head before pointing at the book with her nicely manicured nail. “What’s so interesting about the cover?”

“I can’t open it,” you sigh out as you sink back in your chair. “I can’t bring myself to read what’s inside.” You look up at the beautifully painted sky and sink down further until only your head is peeking above the table.

“Have you told your brother yet?” Blaise asks, only making you groan and duck your head.

“No,” you mumble. “Not yet. I mean I just don’t want to start something if what she’s saying is true.”

Clementine furrows her eyebrows in confusion and shifts in her chair to press on the matter. “Then what do you tell him when you leave your house?”

“That I’m going out, simple as that. He doesn’t ask anything else.” You sit up and glance at them both. “If he knows I come here he’d want to come, and I don’t want him coming just yet.” Finally you open the book and skip through hundreds of pages until you reach the one you’re looking for. “This would be much more amusing if it was on some magical painted tree.” You complain as you avert your gaze from the page.

“Huh?” Blaise says.

“The Black family has small portraits, and the names of every family member on a family tree that’s on their wall.” You share what Harry had told you. “It sounds cool.” You begin to rub your wrist with your thumb and that gives away what you were thinking of. And before Clementine could question it, Blaise beats her to it.

“And what?”

“And...nothing,” you briefly meet his gaze and see his curiosity brewing behind them, you notice his intimidating and serious demeanor too and quickly look away, catching Clementine snatch the book to break the tension you were building.

Clementine gasps and sits up straight as she picks up the book and looks at you with widened eyes.

“What?” You gasp softly as both Blaise and you lean towards her. “What is it?”

“Well,” Clementine rolls out slowly as she blinks to look back at the page. “It says…” she smirks and drags out the revelation. “It says.”

“Clementine stop being an ass,” Blaise surprisingly interjects. “Say it already.”

Clementine scoffs but her smirk widens before she finally shares what she saw. “Your name is on here, y/n. Connected to a line that points to your father. And his name also connects to your brother's name.” She drops the book and she shares an assuring grin. “See there's nothing to worry about.”

You scoff and meet Blaises gaze to share a knowing look. “We’ll see that when my friend Dobby returns with my birth certificate.”

“This could be written over regardless if it’s the truth or not,” Blaise continues for you. “It’s not a solid piece of evidence.”

“Tsk,” Clementine quietly and in slight surprise looks between you and her brother, shaking her head and just leaving it as it was. “Aren’t you two a pair? Anyway,” she says as she stands up and walks towards the edge of her pool. “Moving on to better things, y/n—”

“Don’t,” you cut her off as you stand up too. “Don’t ask.”

“Ask what?” She giggles as she looks back at you over her shoulder.

“I know you’re going to ask about him,” You scoff, “so don’t.”

“I just want to know if you’re both still dating.” She continues regardlessly.

You sigh and shake your head before you take a seat beside her on the edge of the pool. “It doesn’t matter anymore. So please…” you look down at the water and fight the emotions you could feel begin to sink your heart. “Just don’t bring him up.”

“Children!” Mrs. Zabini shouted from the door. “Dinners ready!”

Clementine throws her head back and offers her mother a thumbs up and a small grin before answering verbally. “We’ll be right there.” Clementine rolls her head to look at you and smiles wider. “Will you stay for dinner?”

You smile softly and nod, “of course.”

During the summer all you’ve done is come to the Zabini household. They never minded at all, and their home and their presence was a comforting escape from what was going on in your own home, from the missions you were sent to do and from the person who frequented their.

——

“You know your mission, stick to it,” your father instructed, “don’t kill the boy, and don’t let your emotions get in the way y/n.” He looks to Narcissa under the doorway that led to the big hall decorated by family portraits, and he sighs as he slowly raises his hands to put them on your shoulders. “Uh, be careful.” Your father clears his throat and gently pats your shoulders. The gesture makes you smile, but you were mostly filled with surprise that he was so expressive, so the smile fell to an awkward straight line.

“I will,” you assure him and Narcissa. You part away from your father and look up at the staircase to see Draco standing halfway up the steps, showing only from his neck down as the rest of his face was hidden by the darkness of the unlit stairwell.

“It’d be a shame if you got knocked down by blood-traitors, half bloods and the rest of them.” Draco says nonchalantly as he rests his hand on the handrail. “So…try your best and don’t.”

“Draco.” Narcissa warned him in a sharp whisper. “That’s no way to wish your sister luck. Come down here and do it properly.”

“Why?” Draco scoffs, “she’s not dying, she’s just going to try and chase down Potter. I doubt she’ll see much of the action.”

You look between the pair and just smile softly at the interaction.

“It will still be dangerous—”

“It’s okay,” you cut her off in a lighthearted tone, “he’s right. I’ll be back.” You step back towards the door, catching some of the other death eaters already leaving the property to begin the mission. “I’ll be okay,” you smile as you reach the door. “I’ll see you all later.”

Before you close the door you look back at your family one last time and offer them a sadder smile you couldn’t hold back. You don’t know if they had seen it, maybe they caught a glimpse of it with the light shining nearby, but you didn’t know for sure, you hoped they didn’t.

Just like you hoped they didn’t catch your complete hesitance for the mission you were assigned to participate in. Yeah you haven’t wanted to participate in any of the other missions, they all were bad in their way, but this one was different, in the manner that this time, unlike the others you’ve done this summer, you were going to finally see Harry. You might not face him, but you’d be close to him for the first time since Dumbledore died. You’d be close to all of them. And not only that, but if you did see him you had to hurt him because “your Lord” willed it so.

You always had to remind yourself of that, on every mission. Even more so now as you appratated to the location you were all meant to go, somewhere over some muggle neighborhood where they said Harry Potter lived. The sky was cloudy and dark as it went along with the night that took over, the air so high in the air was bitter and stung your nose and the tip of your ears, and the anticipation knotted your stomach and sank your heart.

Time seemed to move relatively slower now that you waited for Harry to fly by. It felt like agony.

“I hate this,” you mutter to yourself, “this is absolute shit.” You draw out a deep breath and as you keep yourself afloat with the black smoke that half of your body is turned into you watch as cars headlights seem to almost float by down below from where you are, all of them clueless to the menacing black smoke in the sky, clueless to anything that happens just below their noses, or in this case above their heads.

And apparently you seem to have spaced out on the muggle cars for too long because suddenly, seeming almost out of nowhere you hear Bellatrix’s high and overly excited voice. “He's coming! He’s coming.” She cackles and then fully lets her body turn to black smoke to fly away towards…Harry on a broom. Only there wasn’t just one. But multiple Harry’s, all accompanied by a member of their Order, all trying to avoid a fight and head to their safe place.

Albeit a battle was inevitable, as expected and with no time to spare, bright white lights decorated the sky as if lightning and thunder was striking the sky as people from both sides shot out spells to keep one another away. Everything turned into chaos quickly, it was hard to tell which Harry was actually the real one. You were stuck in midair, watching the battle brew until a Harry flew past you in a rush, followed by a man you recognized as Arthur Weasley. And you weren’t going to follow after, none of the death eaters would notice and none of them would care what you did at the moment, but one of them; a tall thin man, with a pointy nose and combed back raven black hair was nearby and following their trail. He caught you on his way after “Harry” and instructed you to follow.

“Hurry Malfoy! It could be Potter!”

At first you watched him fly by, and followed his broom begin to get lost in the clouds, but it was only for a few seconds because then your own fear made you apparate beside the Harry you had just seen, spotting the same man on “Harry’s” other side. Arthur Weasley had turned back to help out the Harry he was accompanying, not caring of who was hidden under the notorious masks you had to wear as a Death Eater, and attacking both you and the man you were helping.

“Stupify!” The Death-Eater shouted, missing “Harry” and Arthur nonetheless.

You raise your hand while you watch “Harry’s” figure disappearing into the sky, noticing him looking back at you and narrowing his eyes on your palm pointing at him.

“Shit he recognized me.”

“Malfoy! Get rid of the old man!” The Death-Eater shouted at you and snapping you from tour stupor. Yet as you speed forward to catch up once again, instead of stunning Arthur Wesley, you catch the Death-Eater mouthing a spell that would hurt “Harry” and your instincts kick in before you could think.

With a wave of your hand you manage to block the spell, causing the light shot out to disappear and the man that shot it to snap his head towards you.

“I knew it,” he sneered, “children are useless in our order!” Instead of continuing after “Harry” the Death-Eater turns his fight against you, flying under “Harry’s” broom and jumping out of his to begin tackling you down.

“Useless!” He bellows as his nails claw into your arm and continues to shove you down, pulling one hand away from your arm to use his wand. However before he could cast a spell, you manage to lift one leg to kick him back. The Death-eater is quick to catch his balance and summons his broom back so he wouldn't fall to the ground a hundred feet under you—“my Lord will love to hear of your betrayal, Malfoy!”

You scoff and cover your whole body in black smoke to fly away faster, passing Arthur Weasley and the same “Harry” from moments ago. The Death-Eater notices that too and tries to multitask by trying to stun “Harry”, but before he can you apparate in front of him with a smirk on your face.

“Boo,” you snicker as you see his hand grip onto his broomstick out of anger, his previous goal leaving his mind and instead completely focusing on you.

This time however he was smart, he hid his hand and wand in his sleeve to surprise you. But the moment you look back at him and you catch him mouthing, “Crucio”. The amusement falls from your face and you knew that blocking his spell would be useless because he would still be after you, and that would lead to him snitching on you for protecting Harry, or whoever that is on the broom. You would let down your family, or worse kill them for your actions, you didn’t regret them, but there would be deadly consequences to pay.

So you had no choice.

You raise your hand and at the same time he shoots out “Crucio,” you flick your wrist and yell out your spell.

“Reducto!”

A bright blue blast comes out and lights your face and the other three faces around you with its hue, the power of the blast smacking your target in the chest and turning him to dust instantly. However it didn’t stop his spell and you were too late to avoid it. The spell hits you in the shoulder and the pain completely paralyzes your entire body, causing your mind to pound, race and burn as if it were under fire. You try to remain in control and use whatever consciousness you had to apparate back home, but the pain was agonizing and unbearable, it made you unable to even keep yourself formed in the black smoke that kept you flying in the sky.

All you felt was the pain that pumped your blood and had your heart racing uncontrollably in your chest. You couldn’t even pass out with how much the pain just shot out all over your body as if someone kept impaling you with thousands of hot knives, or kept electrifying your whole body over and over again. You didn’t even know you were falling out of the sky until through the chaos now brewing in your mind, you heard someone call out to you before they caught you, “Y/N!”

After that everything was fuzzy, you were still in blinding pain, from depths of your mind, where it was still sane, you knew you were squirming and yelling in pain, but that was it until you could tell you were no longer in the sky, or at your house. There were multiple voices and there was darkness until you were inside bright rooms.

“A Death-eater?! Why would you bring that here!”

“She’s not like them!”

Fred?

With the pain, and your head still under fire, nothing was clear, you could only trust your memory to recognize some of the voices that you could hear around you.

“Y/N? What happened to her, Fred?”

Hermione. Yeah. That was her.

“Y/N! Hey! Y/N, what happened?”

“…was shot by a cruciatus curse because she protected who she thought was Harry.”

The mask that once had been covering your face was ripped out and revealed your identity to those who gathered around you. But that’s all you knew because after that you were finally relieved from the painful torture with the darkness of unconcioness that you greeted with joy.

——

After who knows how long, your eyes fluttered open and this time natural light from the sun and morning sky peeked through the window and kissed your skin, the sound of singing birds and of mixed snoring echoed in your ears. You rubbed your eyes and stretched your limbs as you sat up, only to find yourself in an unknown room with friends you did know sleeping around the bed you were on.

“What the,” you mouth as you slowly scan every body and face to notice Hermione, Fred, George and Harry sleeping around your bed.

It was truly a sweet sight, a better one than you'd have with all the Death-eaters back home, but it wasn’t right, you couldn’t be here. You needed to leave.

You try to carefully get out of the bed, but as you put your hands on the mattress to begin pushing yourself off bed Harry quickly wakes up and faces you.

“Y/N,” he whispers with an assuring and sweet smile on his face, “it’s okay. You’re okay. They won’t find you here”.

.

.

.

Tagged- @peter-laufeyson @swiftlymoniquesblog @spideyyypeter @gsvshsjsbs @accio-prozac @cherriesanwine @kokomaesadie @april-14-blog @prettypinkpeachh @pest-ill-ence @ilovespideyyy @m3ssytrash @hogwarts-babe @yodaboo @rafeyybabyy @itsoakaa @nonamesgame

[constitutionalweasleymonarchy]

The Pride of Burrough House, chapters 1-7 recap

I want to get in the habit of posting when there's a new chapter, but for now here's a little overview of what's already been posted to AO3 in my Regency-era Muggle AU, The Pride of Burrough House.

lovely picspam inspired by the ladies of PBH, by @prideofprewett

Chapter 1: Prologue: Three Carriages

A pair of newlyweds make the crossing from Calais to Dover. A mysterious lady boards a mail coach alone. A young lord is welcomed home. All strangers to one another, all on different paths -- but all roads lead to Devonshire.

Chapter 2: In which there is breakfast, a proposal, and some trees

We meet the family of Dr and Mrs Weasley of Ottery St Catchpole, and we encounter our first proposal by a lady who seeks to control her own future.

Chapter 3: In which there are interlopers and, possibly, Catholics

Bill brings home the future mistress of Burrough House. Reactions vary. Percy makes the acquaintance of his employer's governess, Miss Penelope Dawlish.

Chapter 4: In which there are negotiations, and Ron wins at whist again

Bill and Fleur settle in. Harry comes to visit. Molly is starry-eyed. Ginny is unimpressed.

Chapter 5: In which there is dancing, and Percy has opinions

Harry dances with Ginny. Fred dances with Angelina. Percy offers commentary.

Chapter 6: In which there is (b)romance

Harry vents his frustrations to his best friend. Fred and George have an uncomfortable conversation.

Chapter 7: In which Percy pays a compliment

Penelope Dawlish tries to teach Lord Avery's daughter to be a lady. Percy behaves as a gentleman. All in all, feelings are repressed.

Chapter 8 coming Sunday, March 13!

[dhr-ao3]

Heartlines and Bloodlines - LadyMorphia (traduzione)

Heartlines and Bloodlines - LadyMorphia (traduzione) https://ift.tt/EP1GvO6 by Persefoneb Cinque mesi dopo la sconfitta di Lord Voldemort da parte di Harry Potter, il nuovo Ministero della Magia sta perseguendo i Mangiamorte fino in fondo nella speranza di sradicare la supremazia dei Purosangue dalla società. Tornata a Hogwarts come Caposcuola per il suo ultimo anno, Hermione dovrebbe sentirsi euforica. Invece, si ritrova tormentata dal senso di colpa quando non riesce a ripristinare i ricordi dei suoi genitori e viene costretta a partecipare ai piani di punizione corrotti del Ministero. Non sa che questa è la tempesta perfetta per condurla sul sentiero oscuro dei rituali della Magia del Sangue con un ex Mangiamorte dai capelli biondi e dagli occhi grigi, il mago che odia di più. Words: 2378, Chapters: 1/35, Language: Italiano Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Percy Weasley, Theodore Nott, Minerva McGonagall, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, John Dawlish, Ginny Weasley Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Dark Magic Rituals (Harry Potter), Enemies to Lovers, Magical Pregnancy, Minor Character Death, Morally Grey Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley Being an Asshole, BAMF Hermione Granger, Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Dark Magic, Gringotts Wizarding Bank, The Ministry of Magic is Corrupt (Harry Potter), Ritual Sex, Dark Hermione Granger, Suicidal Thoughts, Forced Pregnancy, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Declarations Of Love, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship, Eventual Happy Ending, Blood Magic, Virgin Hermione Granger, Sexually Experienced Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Theodore Nott Friendship, Malfoy Children, Eventual Fluff, Ron Weasley Bashing, Literal Ron Weasley Bashing, slight pregnancy kink, Memory Charm, Minor Memory Loss (main character) via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/JIPY7VA October 15, 2023 at 03:56PM

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXXXVI (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I hope you’re ready to feel things -Danny

Words: 3,875 

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Unsteady’ -by X Ambassadors.

Chapter Thirty-Four: Common Ground.

The pain was so unbearable that she couldn't see, her veins were bursting, suddenly it was all darkness.

She knew the pain didn't belong in her body, and with one last effort, she pushed. Mel didn't know when she'd fallen to the ground, but when she opened her eyes they landed on Harry's, and she knew what she had to do, but he had to agree. However, Harry was currently not in charge of his body.

"Kill me now, Dumbledore..." The boy spoke, the voice that came out didn't belong to him. "If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy..."

"No," Mel breathed, fighting to ground herself, the pain was slowly vanishing, but she didn't know if it was because of her doings, or something far worse. "Harry, please..."

She felt him slipping away... then, just as she was losing hope, something tugged at the back of her mind. 

Harry. 

She thought of the day she'd gazed into his eyes wanting to give him the world, that day she had no idea of what that meant. Now she knew, but she didn't want to give it up anymore. Mel was making the biggest sacrifice she could think of: She would give up Harry and continue the fight. Somehow, she felt Harry making the same vow to her. 

Voices echoed around the hall but Harry kept his eyes on her, she knew he couldn't possibly be seeing her since his glasses had fallen out of his face, but he was looking directly into her eyes as if he knew exactly where to find her soul.

The boy reached out to grab his glasses and carefully put them on, Dumbledore kneeled between them.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes," Harry let his head fall with a soft thud, his eyes going back to her face. "Yeah, I'm — where's Voldemort, where — who are all these — what's —"

Dumbledore helped them up, Mel was too tired to question anything.

"He was there! I saw him, Mr Fudge, I swear, it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!"

"I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too! Merlin's beard — here — here! — in the Ministry of Magic! — great heavens above — it doesn't seem possible — my word — how can this be?"

"If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, catching everyone's attention. "You will find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapparation Jinx and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them."

"Dumbledore!" Fudge panted. "You — here — I — I — Seize him!"

"Wouldn't do that if I were you —" Mel stepped forward but she stumbled, Harry held her back gently.

"Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men — and win again! But a few minutes ago you saw proof, with your own eyes, that I have been telling you the truth for a year. Lord Voldemort has returned, you have been chasing the wrong men for twelve months, and it is time you listened to sense!"

"I — don't — well — Very well — Dawlish! Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see... Dumbledore, you — you will need to tell me exactly — the Fountain of Magical Brethren — what happened?"

"We can discuss that after I have sent Harry and Mel back to Hogwarts," said Dumbledore.

"Harry — Harry Potter?" Fudge turned and stared at them, "Mel Dumbledore? He-here? Why — what's all this about?"

"I shall explain everything when they're back at school."

He walked away from the pool to the place where the golden wizard's head lay on the floor. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Portus." The head glowed blue and trembled noisily against the wooden floor for a few seconds, then became still once more.

"Now see here, Dumbledore! You haven't got authorization for that Portkey! You can't do things like that right in front of the Minister of Magic, you — you —"

Dumbledore turned to look at him as if he were tired to listen to his voice.

"You will give the order to remove Dolores Umbridge from Hogwarts. You will tell your Aurors to stop searching for my Care of Magical Creatures teacher so that he can return to work. I will give you... half an hour of my time tonight, in which I think we shall be more than able to cover the important points of what has happened here. After that, I shall need to return to my school. If you need more help from me you are, of course, more than welcome to contact me at Hogwarts. Letters addressed to the headmaster will find me."

"I — you —"

"Take this Portkey."

Harry and Mel placed their hands on it, none of them uttered a word.

"I shall see you in half an hour. One... two... three..."

Dawn was approaching, which explained why she was so exhausted. Her hand was hurting and the cut next to her eye was swollen and pulsating. Still, none of that could compare to her grief.

So many things had happened that she didn't know what to address first. Her feet took her to the nearest chair and she slumped down, Harry paced around behind her and Mel curled up in her chair quietly, leaning her head on the armrest. She accidentally pressed a bump on her head she hadn't noticed before, they both hissed. Harry approached slowly, as if trying not to scare her away, but then someone else spoke.

"Ah... Harry Potter and Mel Dumbledore..."

Mel looked over Harry's shoulder to stare at Phineas' portrait.

"And what brings you here in the early hours of the morning? This office is supposed to be barred to all but the rightful headmaster. Or has Dumbledore sent you here? Oh, don't tell me... Another message for my worthless great-great-grandson?"

Mel gulped, though her mouth was dry. She watched Harry turn and move to the entrance but it was useless, they were locked in.

"I hope this means, that Dumbledore will soon be back with us?" asked another portrait.

Mel nodded, the boy tried to discretely shove against the door with his back facing it. It was clear he didn't want to spend another second there, she couldn't blame him, a lot had happened.

"Oh, good. It has been very dull without him, very dull indeed. I suppose you're happy, Miss?" The man added. "You'll have your lessons again, I daresay you were remarkable last time. Dumbledore thinks very highly of you two, as I am sure you know. Oh yes. Holds you in great esteem..."

Whatever good thoughts Dumbledore had about them surely they were all gone by now. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but she closed it again and cleared her throat to relieve the pressure. The fireplace burst into green flames, and Dumbledore stepped into the room.

"Thank you," Dumbledore walked directly to the perch and seated Fawkes in it. "Well... you will be pleased to hear that none of your fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night's events."

She fixed her eyes on the desk, ashamed and defeated, Harry was extremely quiet.

"Madam Pomfrey is patching everybody up now. You did a good job with Flint's injuries, Mel. I expect only the faintest mark to remain, which I'm sure he'll appreciate. Nymphadora Tonks may need to spend a little time in St. Mungo's, but it seems that she will make a full recovery..." He examined both teenagers and let out a short sigh. "I know how you are feeling."

"No, you don't," said Harry roughly.

"You see, Dumbledore? Never try to understand the students. They hate it. They would much rather be tragically misunderstood, wallow in self-pity, stew in their own —"

"That's enough, Phineas."

"Does my mother know?" Mel asked before her voice could vanish.

"Lupin decided to be the one to break the news for her," Dumbledore's voice sounded deep and tired. "You see, it was me who told her about Matthew the first time, and she didn't take it well. Lupin thinks that it might be better if he's the one to let her know this time —"

"He wanted to be there for the baby," Mel interrupted. "He was ready..."

"I know," Dumbledore replied. "He'll be there... There is no shame in what you are feeling. On the contrary... the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength."

"Our greatest strength, is it?" Harry scoffed. "You haven't got a clue... You don't know..."

"What don't I know?"

"I don't want to talk about how I feel, all right?"

"Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human —"

"THEN — I — DON'T — WANT — TO — BE — HUMAN!"

Harry grabbed one of the instruments Dumbledore used to practice during their lessons and threw it against a wall. Several portraits shouted. Mel, who at this point was used to his tantrums –though this was definitely the wildest so far– merely flinched, keeping her gaze on the desk.

"I DON'T CARE! I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE —"

She didn't need any kind of connection to be able to know how he was feeling. She was tired, angry at her own shortcomings, she wanted to be able to burst into flames like Fawkes so she could start over.

"You do care. You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."

"I — DON'T!"

"Oh yes, you do. You have now lost your mother, your father, and the closest thing to a parent you have ever known. You think it's your fault Mel lost her chance to have a family, you think Emily will hate you. Of course you care."

Mel lifted her legs and hugged them tightly, hiding her face between her knees but still unable to cry. It was such a strange feeling, to be drowning in pain and yet having no way to get rid of the pressure.

"YOU DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL! YOU — STANDING THERE — YOU —" There was a moment of silence in which Harry rushed back to the door and fought to open it. "Let me out."

"No."

"...Let me out."

"No."

"If you don't — if you keep me in here — if you don't let me —"

"By all means continue destroying my possessions. I daresay I have too many."

Dumbledore stood and moments later a hand squeezed her shoulder lightly. She didn't look up, but through the gap between her knees, she could see his figure sitting on the edge of the desk.

"Let me out," Harry insisted.

"Not until I have had my say."

"Do you — do you think I want to — do you think I give a — I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'VE GOT TO SAY! I don't want to hear anything you've got to say!"

"You will. Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it."

"No one's going to attack you," Mel replied.

"Maybe not," Dumbledore responded, "but if it does happen, I must ask you to stay out of it, Mel."

"What are you talking — ?" Harry started.

"It is my fault that Sirius died. Or I should say almost entirely my fault — I will not be so arrogant as to claim responsibility for the whole. Sirius was a brave, clever, and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger. More so when he had a family that needed protection. 

Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight. If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been, you would have known a long time ago that Voldemort might try and lure you to the Department of Mysteries, and you would never have been tricked into going there tonight. And Sirius would not have had to come after you. That blame lies with me, and with me alone. Please sit down."

Harry sat on the chair next to her.

"Am I to understand," said Phineas, "that my great-great-grandson — the last of the Blacks — is dead?"

"Yes, Phineas," said Dumbledore. "But I'm afraid you're wrong about one thing: The last Black remains. Sirius' son was born two days ago."

"With that Sultens, no less! And now he died? I don't believe it..." said Phineas, and she heard him leave.

"I owe you an explanation. An explanation of an old man's mistakes. For I see now that what I have done, and not done, with regard to you, and the instructions I gave Mel, bear all the hallmarks of the failings of age. Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young... and I seem to have forgotten lately."

Her legs gently slipped from the chair, her eyes tentatively rose to find Dumbledore's.

"I guessed, fifteen years ago, when I saw the scar upon your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort. And when Mel and I talked during her second year, I knew about your connection."

"You've told us this before, Professor," said Harry impatiently.

"Yes. Yes, but you see — it is necessary to start with your scar. For it became apparent, shortly after you rejoined the magical world, that I was correct, and that your scar was giving you warnings when Voldemort was close to you, or else feeling powerful emotion."

"I know."

Dumbledore explained that when Harry was able to see Mr Weasley's attack,  Voldemort realized he could use this connection to his advantage. Reason why Dumbledore asked Snape to teach Harry Occlumency. 

He confessed that he'd decided to stay away from Harry in an attempt to keep Voldemort from spying through Harry's eyes. He made sure Voldemort wouldn't be able to use Mel's friendship with Harry by teaching her how to close her mind and handle her emotions. 

This explained why Harry had been so angry whenever he was near Dumbledore those times before, he was possessed to an extent, and she could only be thankful to whatever it was that had kept Voldemort from using the boy to hurt others.

Mel felt ashamed. All those times in which she let her childish behaviour get in the way, choosing to turn a blind eye on Harry's problems, it was her fault, not Dumbledore's. 

"But I didn't practice, I didn't bother, I could've stopped myself having those dreams," Harry said desperately. "Hermione kept telling me to do it, Mel tried to teach me, if I had he'd never have been able to show me where to go, and — Sirius wouldn't — Sirius wouldn't —"

"I never really tried," Mel said bitterly. "I was so happy with my normal life that I never worried about the responsibilities I was ignoring. I never thought Voldemort would try to... It seems so obvious now, I was so foolish..."

"We tried to check he'd really taken Sirius," Harry told Dumbledore, trying to explain why they'd acted the way they did. "We went to Umbridge's office, I spoke to Kreacher in the fire, and he said Sirius wasn't there, he said he'd gone!"

"Kreacher lied. You are not his master, he could lie to you without even needing to punish himself. Kreacher intended you to go to the Ministry of Magic."

"He — he sent me on purpose?"

"Oh yes. Kreacher, I am afraid, has been serving more than one master for months."

"How? He hasn't been out of Grimmauld Place for years."

"Kreacher seized his opportunity shortly before Christmas, when Sirius, apparently, shouted at him to 'get out.' He took Sirius at his word and interpreted this as an order to leave the house. He went to the only Black family member for whom he had any respect left... Black's cousin Narcissa, sister of Bellatrix and wife of Lucius Malfoy."

"How do you know all this?"

"Kreacher told me last night..."

Snape did try to contact Sirius after Harry's warning. He'd discovered he was alive and well, taking care of Emily and his son. However, when none of them returned from their walk into the forbidden forest he realized something had gone wrong. He alerted the order, and by doing so, he alerted Dumbledore as well. 

"He was laughing?" Harry asked in outrage.

"Oh yes. You see, Kreacher was not able to betray us totally. He is not Secret-Keeper for the Order, he could not give the Malfoys our whereabouts or tell them any of the Order's confidential plans that he had been forbidden to reveal. He was bound by the enchantments of his kind, which is to say that he could not disobey a direct order from his master, Sirius. But he gave Narcissa information of the sort that is very valuable to Voldemort, yet must have seemed much too trivial for Sirius to think of banning him from repeating it."

"Like what?"

"Like the fact that the person Sirius cared most about in the world was you and the Sultens. Like the fact that you were coming to regard Sirius as a mixture of father and brother. That he was expecting a child... Voldemort knew already, of course, that Sirius was in the Order, that you knew where he was — but Kreacher's information made him realize that the one person whom you would go to any lengths to rescue was Sirius Black. Both of you."

"So... when I asked Kreacher if Sirius was there last night..."

She could not phantom how any creature could be that cruel, but alas, Voldemort was real and alive, and he'd been doing horrible things to many good people. 

"My god," Mel breathed. "How did we mess up like this..."

"And Kreacher told you all this... and laughed?" Harry repeated. "And... and Hermione kept telling us to be nice to him —"

"She was quite right, Harry. I warned Sirius when we adopted twelve Grimmauld Place as our headquarters that Kreacher must be treated with kindness and respect. I also told him that Kreacher could be dangerous to us. I do not think that Sirius took me very seriously, or that he ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a humans —"

"Don't you blame — don't you — talk — about Sirius like — Kreacher's a lying — foul — he deserved —"

"Kreacher is what he has been made by wizards, Harry. Yes, he is to be pitied. His existence has been as miserable as your friend Dobby's. He was forced to do Sirius's bidding because Sirius was the last of the family to which he was enslaved, but he felt no true loyalty to him. And whatever Kreacher's faults, it must be admitted that Sirius did nothing to make Kreacher's lot easier —"

"DON'T TALK ABOUT SIRIUS LIKE THAT!"

Harry leapt to his feet and Mel made an attempt to stand up as well, the man sat her back down gently.

"Don't," He said. "I won't let you attack each other like you've been doing this whole year."

"What about Snape?" Harry said harshly. "You're not talking about him, are you? When I told him Voldemort had Sirius he just sneered at me as usual —"

"Harry, you know that Professor Snape had no choice but to pretend not to take you seriously in front of Dolores Umbridge, but as I have explained, he informed the Order as soon as possible about what you had said. It was he who deduced where you had gone when you did not return from the forest. It was he too who gave Professor Umbridge fake Veritaserum when she was attempting to force you and Mel to tell of Sirius's whereabouts..."

"Snape — Snape g-goaded Sirius about staying in the house — he made out Sirius was a coward —"

"Sirius was much too old and clever to have allowed such feeble taunts to hurt him."

"Snape stopped giving me Occlumency lessons! He threw me out of his office!"

"I am aware of it. I have already said that it was a mistake for me not to teach you myself, though I was sure, at the time, that nothing could have been more dangerous than to open your mind even further to Voldemort while in my presence —"

"Snape made it worse, my scar always hurt worse after lessons with him — How do you know he wasn't trying to soften me up for Voldemort, make it easier for him to get inside my —"

"I trust Severus Snape. But I forgot — another old man's mistake — that some wounds run too deep for the healing. I thought Professor Snape could overcome his feelings about your father — I was wrong."

"But that's okay, is it? It's okay for Snape to hate my dad, but it's not okay for Sirius to hate Kreacher?"

"Sirius did not hate Kreacher. He regarded him as a servant unworthy of much interest or notice. Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike... The fountain we destroyed tonight told a lie. We wizards have mistreated and abused our fellows for too long, and we are now reaping our reward."

"SO SIRIUS DESERVED WHAT HE GOT, DID HE?"

"You're not listening," Mel growled, Dumbledore's hand tightened its grip on her shoulder.

"I did not say that, nor will you ever hear me say it. Sirius was not a cruel man, he was kind to house-elves in general. He had no love for Kreacher because Kreacher was a living reminder of the home Sirius had hated."

"Yeah, he did hate it!" Harry walked away. "You made him stay shut up in that house and he hated it, that's why he wanted to get out last night —"

"I was trying to keep Sirius alive, but I dismissed exactly how much he wanted to do the same with you."

"People don't like being locked up! You did it to me all last summer —"

Dumbledore sighed and hid his face behind both hands. For a moment, Mel stupidly thought he'd burst into tears, however, he emerged with resolution.

"It is time for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. And I guess that, in a way, in concerns you too, Mel. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me — to do whatever you like — when I have finished. I will not stop you."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle

[ilikefandom]

Protection: Severus Snape x reader

Genre: Dark Fluff

Synopsis: Severus takes his fiancee, (Y/n), to a death eater meeting

Pairing: Severus Snape x Fem reader

Warrnings: Violence, Threat of Violence, Snakes, Abuse of Power

Sitting in her seat at the banquet (Y/n) shifted her body uncomfortably. Being engaged to Severus Snape was wonderful, however, his friends were less savory. As she listened to Lucius Malfoy drone on and on over his new bill idea for the ministry, something caught her attention. The younger Malfoy was rubbing his left arm almost unconsciously, almost as if his dark mark was new. Bellatrix was picking her nails with a silver knife, stealing glances at the door, and observing (Y/n) like she was a challenger in the colosseum.

“Severus,” (Y/n) whispered to her fiance, “could we leave soon? It feels awkward that the owner of the home, a.) talks of nothing but himself, b.) judges the ring you bought me because it’s ‘not high class enough, and c.) does not sit at the head of the table which remains empty.” She took a deep breath and continued. “Is somebody else coming?”

“Yes,” Severus hissed into her ear, “And when he arrives, apply the occlumency I have been teaching you. He is a skilled legilimens, even more so than I, he will try to gain entry to your mind.”

“Who is he? The minister?” (Y/n) asked with some fear in her eyes, if it was who she thought he was, well, there would be a reason to hide her memories with Severus. 

“Yes and no,” Severus explained, badly. 

The doors at the end of the hall opened and the sound of scales on stone rang throughout the room. 

(Y/n) grabbed his hand under the table, panic in her eyes, “I hate snakes.” She said quietly, shivering.

Narcissa, the nicer of the two hosts caught her eye from across the table and smiled reassuringly. (Y/n) took a deep breath and calmed her mind, so that the panic wouldn’t break her focus. The snake slithered into the candlestick near another man’s head.

As soon as the man, pale as snow, face of a snake, stepped into the room the room fell silent. He slunk, like his serpent into the chair at the head of the table.

“Severus,” Lord Voldemort said, as he looked up at the man in question. “You bring news I trust, and a lovely young lady I see. Come here girl.”

(Y/n) swallowed the air in her mouth and got out of her seat. She made her way to the front of the table and stood next to the dark wizard. 

The tendrils of intrusion tapped at her mental wall and found the door in the side. Memories came through her mind. Sitting at her desk dealing with Draco Malfoy who had used the Muggleborn slur, saying that he is entitled to his beliefs, but the use of the word ‘Mudblood’ is against school rules. Severus, holding her hand for the first time, on their first date, when he proposed, and having a meltdown when his third year class could not seem to grasp the use of moonstone in potion making. All of the memories, mundane and boring as they were, a shield for what she knew of Severus’ Order activities. 

“That is a lovely ring.” The dark wizard commented before gesturing at her to leave.

(Y/n) took a deep breath and sat down again. Severus tapped her on the knee letting her know that she did well. 

“You bring news, I trust, Severus.” Voldemort asked as he stared down the man in all black.

“It will happen next Saturday, at nightfall.” Sevurus stated as he stared back into the slitted pupils of Lord Voldemort’s eyes. 

Another death eater interrupted Severus as he said “I have heard differently my Lord. Dawlish the Auror has let slip that the Potter boy will not be moved until the 30th of this month, the day before he turns 17.”

Severus looked directly at the man and responded, “This is a false trail, the Auror Office no longer plays any part in the protection of Harry Potter. Those closest to him believe we have infiltrated the ministry.”

(Y/n) sat quiet, she was unaware of when the young man was to be moved, she wasn’t working as a spy, but rather another pair of eyes to observe the scenery. 

Another death eater piped in, “Well, they’ve got that right then.” 

The entire table of dark witches and wizards began to laugh, (Y/n) chuckled along, just to be polite, she wanted no part in the murder of a 16 year old boy. 

“What say you Pius?” Asked the dark lord, staring down the table at the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The room fell silent as he spoke, almost as if his voice extinguished the rest.

“One hears many things my Lord. Whether the truth is among them is not clear.” The man spoke, his charisma and effortlessness oozing within every word.

Voldemort laughed, looking Thicknesse in the eyes, “Spoken like a true politician. You will, I think, prove most useful Pius.” He smiled at the younger man, his teeth glinting in the firelight. The ministry member smiled back, just the slight raising of his lips. 

The Dark Lord then turned back to Severus, “Where will he be taken? The boy?” He asked with conviction, giving (Y/n) a slight glance as she held her gaze on the fire. Desperate to look anywhere but those snake eyes. 

“To a safehouse,” Severus responded, sliding his hand to hers, stroking it in a comforting gesture. The feeling of his, rough, calloused hands on her smaller ones felt like home. “Most likely the home of someone in the Order. I’m told it has been given every manner of protection possible. Once there, it will be impractical to attack it.”

The sound of a throat clearing echoed throughout the hall. “My Lord.” Bellatrix said, her voice grating across the stone like nails on a chalkboard, “I would like to volunteer myself for this task, I want to kill the boy.” The desperation in her voice was plainly obvious, she not only wanted to fulfill his expectations, she wanted him, romantically. (Y/n) almost gagged on the air. 

A strangled cry tore through the room and (Y/n) jumped slightly. Severus’ hand tightened on hers, keeping her in her seat.

“Wormtail!” Voldemort shouted at Pettigrew. “Have I not spoken to you about keeping our guest quiet!” His anger was apparent and (Y/n) was happy that she was not in the line of fire. Severus still held on to her hand as if to pull her behind him at any moment. 

“Yes my Lord, right away, my Lord.” The mousy man in the corner coward as he flicked his wand at the body floating at least five feet off the ground. 

(Y/n) recognised the woman from somewhere, but she had no clue of where.

“As inspiring as I find your bloodlust Bellatrix, I must be the one to kill Harry Potter.” He spoke to her as if she were a child, and, after he did, Bella hung her head in either shame or disappointment. “But,” Voldemort continued, “I face an unfortunate complication, that my wand and Potter’s share the same core. They are, in some ways, twins. We can wound, but not fatally harm one another. If I am to kill him I must do it with another’s wand. Come, surely one of you would like the honour, hmmm. What about you, Lucius?”

Lucius Malfoy who had paled at the mention of his name looked up at his dark master, who now stood behind him. “My, Lord,” he choked, unable to come up with words for the situation he found himself in. (Y/n) almost felt bad for him, but as she looked at the weasel struggling, she had to admit it felt good to watch him squirm. 

“My Lord,” Voldemort mocked, his sense of superiority clouding every syllable. “I require your wand,” he said as he stretched out a poorly manicured hand to accept Lucius’ wand. 

Narcissa looked straight ahead, but, as she sat across from (Yn), the latter could sense the panic flowing out of her eyes.

Lucius’ hands shook as he removed his wand from its cover and handed it to Lord Voldemort, not daring to look the other man in the eyes.

“Do I detect elm?” Voldemort asked, ushering glee into his voice as he manipulated his puppet. 

“Yes, My Lord.” Lucius responded, his voice barely above a whisper.

Voldemort snapped off the handle of the wand, causing its owner to flinch.

“And the core?” Voldemort examined the wand a bit further to exploit Lucius’ discomfort. 

“Dragon, dragon heartstring, my Lord.” Lucius murdered as he looked away from his broken wand, eyes fixing to the table.

“Dragon heartstring.” The Dark Lord repeated, rubbing salt into Lucius’ wounds, tossing the handle onto the table, causing Lucius to flinch once again at his master’s actions.

Voldemort moved away from Lucius, flicking the broken wand at the woman’s body, causing it to drift over the table. 

“To those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Miss. Charity Burbage.” The evil man said, his voice soft, but commanding.

Charity, (Y/n) knew that name, she was the woman that Severus had introduced to her at Slughorn’s last party of the year. She had not liked Charity’s pushy point of view on muggles. Not that she disagree with half bloods, but her approach on teaching was a bit, well, opinionated.

“Who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her speciality was Muggle Studies.” The crowd of death eaters laughed at the woman who was trying to escape her magical bonds. “It is Miss. Burbage’s belief that Muggles are not so different from us. She would, given her way, have us mate with them.”

The assembly of death eaters jeered at Charity making faces of disgust and yelling insults at her. Bellatrix laughed as the body passed by her, making her point of view on muggles quite clear. 

“To her,” Voldemort continued, “the mixture of magical and muggle blood is not an abomination, but simply, to be encouraged.”

“Severus,” Charity whimpered. “Severus, please.” The woman begged, with her eyes, for Severus to set her free. He did not move. “We’re friends,”

Severus stared at the woman with a blank face, his face twisted into a mask of indifference.

Voldemort casted the killing curse upon Charity, causing her corpse to hit the table. 

(Y/n) jumped at the clunk, as well as several other death eaters. The hissing of the snake almost drove her into a panic attack. 

“Nagini,” Voldemort spoke to the snake that had slithered up to the table. “Dinner.”

Severus, knowing what was going to happen next, lunged to press (Y/n)’s face into his chest, a move that was laughed at by several of his colleagues. 

Nagini lunged at Charity’s body and began to devour it. Severus kept his large hand pressed to the back of your skull. And it was at that moment that he knew. He would watch any number of his colleagues die to protect (Y/n). Even if he had to do it himself.

Hi readers! This is based off of the Meeting at Malfoy Manor scene from the Deathly Hallows pt.1 movie. I do not own Harry Potter. Please send in requests and asks! - Author