#also do not fret there will definitely be more Merlin to come!!!
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noodles-and-tea · 8 months ago
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hi !!! i’ve been following you on twitter and tiktok for ages (since luca) and have loved every single fandom you’ve transitioned through since then - your art is just amazing
but i cannot lie as a hardcore merlin fan seeing that you’ve entered this space after sherlock truly made me do a little dance with glee !! you drew them brilliantly and i can’t wait to see more if you happen to draw more of them !!
keep up the amazing work !! 💕💕
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Oh thank you so much!!!!!
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ask-felix-aberg · 2 months ago
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*You found a letter in the middle of your class required Arithmancy book*
*The sealed envelope has sketches of bluebells on the sides that comes with a note on the front that says 'To: Felix' while on its back—'You didn't see that coming, don't you? ;)'*
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Dear Felix,
Hejsan! 'Tis I again :D
I truly hope that I used that in a proper context. Fascinating thing languages, isn't it? Seemingly breaking one barrier at a time and such a fulfilling way to connect to people.
By the way, Amit told me how he got frightened when you caught him. Poor Amit, but I'll be forever grateful for his help.
On a different note, I'm glad that you sounded excited about the cinnamon rolls; I actually made them, and I followed my mother's recipe. I hope that it turned out as delightful as she makes them. Also, I wasn't initially aware that you can bake? If you ask me, I think it is impressive that you can. As a baker's daughter, I approve of your gingersnaps! I absolutely enjoy munching on it.
Felix, I have a confession to make...
I, in fact, am the reason behind the stare you intuitively feel during Arithmancy class. So fret not, you are not going around the twist. It's really just me.
Was it intentional? Well, how do I put it...
There's always something magnetic and almost difficult to wrap around in a logical way about you; an energy I can't even begin to fathom fully or understand— and that's why I would go from a glance to a stare without me even noticing it.
You're interesting, Åberg.
To point the obvious, everyone already knows that you have a rather aesthetically pleasing exterior. Well, they're not wrong. But more importantly, I like the way you think. The way you express your thoughts on a subject that you are interested in. Merlin, should I even mention the way your eyes light up when you're excited to answer a question in Arithmancy class? It's priceless.. and somewhat inspiring, I must admit.
Oh, Felix... I know you always tell me that you're just a simple guy. But that reason itself makes you extraordinary to me: that you don't need to feel powerful or famous just to be proud of who you are. And that's beautiful in ways words can never be described.
You're my muse. I hope you let me paint you through words in every letter I will send you by how I see you.
Until then..
With much adoration,
Your Secret Admirer
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
*You then noticed that a book was also left for you. It's titled 'The Universe In A Mirror' alongside another note—"I just finished reading this and thought you might find it interesting, too!"*
Felix turned around in his seat, casually scanning the classroom. A few of his classmates were hunched over their notes, some whispering in hushed tones and others staring blankly at the board, clearly lost in thought. But there was no sign of who might have slipped the letter into his book.
With a bemused smile, Felix leaned back in his seat as he carefully opened the envelope and unfolded the letter inside.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─☆: .☽ . :☆─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
To my Secret Admirer,
Hejsan back to you! You used it perfectly. Thank you for another beautiful letter - and for the surprise delivery. You were right, I definitely didn't see that coming!
I really have to thank Amit as well, and I hope I didn't scare him off too much when I caught him on my doorstep. Poor guy. I'll have to make it up to him somehow. Maybe some sweets will do the trick?
Now, about those cinnamon rolls - they were beyond delicious! Far better than any I've ever made. My own attempts always end up a little lopsided, but yours were perfect. I'd love to exchange recipes sometime, if you're up for it. I've always enjoyed baking, though I mostly started to keep my younger brothers entertained. They're a picky bunch, but they always come running back for more, so I must be doing something right. :)
I'm glad to hear that you enjoyed the gingersnaps. It's always nice to know that something I bake can bring a little bit of joy. You mentioned that you're a baker's daughter. Did you grow up helping out in the bakery? I'd love to hear about your favorite memories or lessons you learned.
Your observations about me are touching, though I still stand by what I said before: I'm just Felix. I don't feel like I deserve all this praise, but it means a lot to me that you see something special. I guess I never really thought much about the way I am.
I'm excited to dive into the book you left for me. The title alone has already caught my interest. Thank you for thinking of me!
Until then, take care of yourself and keep being you. I'll be here, waiting to hear from you again.
Until our next letter,
Felix
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fukae-flwr · 1 year ago
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Tea with an old new Friend
Anne sat across from her, heart pounding. Her visits always left her feeling like she was doing something terribly wrong, and she wasn't wrong. Not many people knew of her appearance, and if they did, well, she definitely wouldn't be sitting here in Anne's house with all the freedom she has. She'd be in Azkaban, for unjustified crimes pinned on her by the ministry.
Thankfully, she had a perfectly casted charm on heraelf, changing her appearance. Not to hide from the ministry per se, but more to hide from two specific aurors who loved to show up at Anne's unannounced.
"How are they?" Penelope asked, her voice sounding slightly off from her normal voice. Her appearance was vastly different from her natural one, but the one thing she couldn't hide no matter what form she took, was the heavy darkness around her eyes. The magic inside her almost tainted the skin around. Not so much as bags like a lifeless body, but more so never fading shadows.
"They are well. They should be returning from a mission the Ministry had tasked them with, any day now." Anne answered finally. Perhaps her response would deter her from staying much longer. Anne cared for her, truly, and she dreaded her being caught due to recklessness.
"Daily Prophet made mention of their new mission. To stop that masked dark wizard..." she chuckled darkly. She was looking into her cup, seeming reading her own tea leaves. Anne couldnt help fret more at the mention of this.
"If that is true, then I really insist we have our tea dates at your place of residency." Anne urged, her voice soft.
She just looked up from her cup and smiled, a glint of that red magic coming to her eyes and the shadows becoming more prominent.
"Your concern is so comforting," she sighed happily, resting her chin on her hand, "but it's truly unwarranted. They won't find me."
"You underestimate them," Anne defended them quickly. Sebastian and Ominis were amazing wizards who excelled at never giving up despite all odds, Sebastian especially. Anne held no doubt in her mind, no matter how powerful Edith was, they will find her. It was only a matter of time.
"Not underestimating, simply knowing where their limits lie." Penelope spoke softly, her finger circling the rim of the tea cup.
"I won't stand for that kind of talk. They are far more competent than you know." Anne placed her cup down, passionately. She both wanted to prove her wrong and also protect her from them. It was very frustrating how conflicted she was.
"Well its a good thing you're sitting down then," she had responded immediately. She stared at Anne wide eyed, surprised by her own words.
"Heh, sorry. Force of habit."
Good grief, this woman was going to be her undoing. Before Anne could say anything, a loud knock came from her door.
"Anne! We're back!!" The familar voice of Sebastian came from the otherside of the door! Immediate panic flood her veins as she looked from Penelope to the door. Penelope, on the other hand, watched Anne in amusement.
"J..Just a minute!" Anne called. She immediately rose from the table trying to think of what to do.
"Shall we wager some galleons Anne?" She whispered excitedly. What in Merlin's name was wrong with her?!
"W..what?!" Anne stuttered.
"See if they would detect me or not? I can easily out power them should an issue arise, though I doubt it will." She chuckled quietly. That confident, was she? Every possible nerve was saying she needed to leave but clearly she had no plans to. Anne just sighed, knowing she wouldn't be able to sway someone so stubborn. She might as well make some coin if her plan was to be so reckless.
"Make it 50 galleons." Anne smirked, feeling like her old self for a moment.
"Deal!" Edith smiled wickedly.
My shorts aren't the greatest but I really do enioy writting out the scenes that play in my head as I draw these out. It's so much fun. I hope you're enjoying them too!!!
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fa-headhoncho · 4 years ago
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Unlike The Rest: Part 1
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George Weasley x Reader (eventually)
Prompt:  The last few years have already been rough for you. Trying to make a new name for yourself while everyone still believes you like the rest of your family. But, this year is much worse since your little brother is starting his first year at Hogwarts.
Word Count: 2069
Reader: Female
Warning: My first time writing for HP in a LONG time, so I’m sorry in advance for any Americanized things and inaccuracy. I’m rusty, okay? Some people might be a bit out of character like the mother but I think she’s proven to have a bit of a different side of her that we don’t see.
Masterlist Series Masterlist
======
You run into the wall and everything just overwhelms you. The smoke of the train clouding the air, the chatter of new and old students filling your ears, and the sense of relief. The long summer months have finally come to this. Back at Hogwarts, the escape from your dreadful life.
A large smile appears on your features, seeing familiar faces whether they be in a scowl or a smile. You loved it here. Your home away from home… This place has given a new light into your life that you needed. Sure, you were a bit of a prat your first year but you seemed to turn it around your second year once you realized how much of an arsehole you were actually being.
Then something suddenly hits you in the back, snapping you out of your daze.
“Move it, tosser.” Your little brother sneers, your parents following behind them.
“Shove it, Draco.” You spit back, just glad he didn’t knock over your trolley full of stuff. “Next time you do that, I’ll make sure to tell the whole school you still sleep with your blankie. That will be sure to make a good first impression.”
The platinum blondes mouth opens slightly, a worried expression on his face. “Father!” He whines, turning to the looming figure standing behind him.
“(Y/N),” He sighs, “don’t threaten your brother.”
You just roll your eyes and straighten out your trolley, reaching over and giving your cat a calming pet. Dazing off once again, you look around the platform. You see Angelina Johnson, a Gryffindor in your year, and give her a friendly smile. She looks a bit taken aback at the fact that you were even tempting to interact with her. She just laughs and turns to her group of friends and starts giggling at you.
Well, at least you thought you made some new friends last year.
Your father and Draco continue to walk, trying to find a better spot than in front of the entrance of the platform. You slowly follow after them, wanting to not be left behind.
“...I’m sure you’ll get into Slytherin, Draco.” Father continues to press on. “Unlike your sister, you won’t disappoint us.” He takes a side glance at you but you pretend to not hear him, “Will you?”
“Of course not father.” He obliges as he always does. 
Draco has always been Daddy’s little pet but it got worse since you were sorted into your house, Hufflepuff, in. The house of kindness, loyalty, and diligence-- the house known for producing the least amount of dark wizards. At first, you were also mad and disappointed in this. Ultimately becoming a complete brat your first year to anyone and everyone to try to make up for it but the Sorting Hat’s words seem to echo in your head since then;
“I see good things to come from you, a Malfoy unlike the rest.”
And those words are what keeps you going in a household like yours. 
“Muggle studies, really, (Y/N).” Mother exclaims in disgust, reading your schedule for the new year. “Out of all the electives, you picked muggle studies?”
You think quickly, muggles and their culture have always seemed to interest you. Your father has talked bad about them and how they are inferior to the wizarding community but they seem to just have an intriguing lifestyle. 
“It must be a mistake!” You fret, grabbing the scroll from her hands and rereading it over. It definitely was not a mistake but you had to fake it. “I must have accidentally not sign up for another elective,” Frowning, you roll up your schedule and put it into your back pocket. “I think I was too focused on getting into Care of Magical Creatures…”
Father just rolls his eyes and leans his weight onto his long black cane. You never knew why he needed that cane but you never dared to ask, you know he keeps his wand in the handle but the whole cane wasn’t really necessary. He has always been into the theatrics. 
“I’ll be sure to have that changed.” He promises. “I don’t want you turning up like the muggle-loving Weasle father.” He sneers, his eyes falling to the entrance, seeing the first of the children of said family run through it. “A disgrace they are to the wizarding world.”
“Weasley…” You mumble under your breath, correcting him. Draco catches this and his eyebrows perk up, excited to get you in trouble once more.
“What did you sa--”
“Merlin,” Your father gasps, “Harry Potter…” He sees the famous boy run through with the youngest Weasley boy.
“Is it really?” Mother gasps, eyes snapping over to inspect as well.
Everyone knows who Harry Potter is, especially people like your parents. He’s a legend in wizarding history and it’s been long-awaited for him to come to Hogwarts.
“Draco, you need to make friends with him.” Your father says in a monotone voice, eyes never leaving the boy who lived. “Make sure he knows what families to associate with.” He turns back to his son.
“Of course, Father.” He gleams, excited at the opportunity to make his father proud.
Suddenly, a herd of students starts making their way to the train. Some more frantic than others. You smile. It’s finally time.
“You should be going now,” Your mother solemnly announces, sad to see her last child going off to Hogwarts. “You guys are growing up so fast,” She sighs cupping Draco’s face, father just rolls his eyes at her sentiments.
Draco just returns the smile and pulls her hand off of his cheek. He turns around, going to double-check all his stuff and continue to talk to your father about Harry Potter and the Weasley’s. 
She then turns to you, lowering her voice into a whisper. “Make sure you keep an eye on him, (Y/N).” She requests, a worried expression on his face. “I’m afraid that his mouth will get him into a lot of trouble.”
“Wouldn’t be a Malfoy without it, Mum.” You try to crack a joke with her. Out of everyone in your family, your mother seems to be the least cruel and most understanding. Not that she certainly agrees with you, but you are her daughter and she loves you. “I’ll try.” You give her a tight-lipped smile, giving her hand a squeeze. She returns the smile and sends you on your way.
=====
“... I can’t believe he decided to sit that embarrassment Weasle-B.” Draco scoffs, already chatting shit with his friends Crabbe and Goyle.
You’ve always hated these kids, their parents are friends with yours and they’ve always seemed to cause trouble together. Your mother thinks they just have crushes on you but you rather not think of that.
“Crabbe, are you even listening?” He proclaimed, noticing the stout child's open mouth and gazed over expression. You look up from your copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them to meet his gaze. You shift uncomfortably.
Crabbe snaps his eyes back to Draco and nods so vigorous that you’re sure he just scrambled whatever brains he had left in there.
“I’m going to go change into my robes.” You announce, needing to get away from these idiots as soon as possible. Belladonna, your white tabby, jumps off of your lap as you stand. “You three should too, we are getting close to the castle.”
You reach up and grab your yellow and black robes from the compartment above the bench you and Draco were sitting in. The other two boys do the same, grabbing their plain uniforms. Draco just sits there and shakes his head at you.
“I still can’t believe you’re in Hufflepuff.” He shakes his head.
“I still can’t believe you’re a prat.” You snap back, sending him a stern look. “The school year hasn’t even started and you already are pissing me off, Draco.” He hides his frown as you put your things under your arm and storm out of the cabin.
=====
The dirt path is surrounded by trees, the first years just left with Hagrid on their traditional boat ride to show the kids the castle. You remember getting so excited, seeing the lights and the bridge sparked something in you that year.
Last year and this year are the same, you get to ride carriages across the bridge into the castle. Less grand, but still riveting none the less… Well, it should be but it just seems like a popularity contest. Seeing everyone group together to make sure they’re with their friends makes you nervous.
After first year, you made a bit of a bad name for yourself. Wanting to live up to the Malfoy name, since your sorting didn’t, you decided to act a bit out. Doing what you knew your parents would want, bullying the people in your year about their blood status and even their financial status. You really did regret it by the end of that year, no one wanted to be your friend nor did they even want to interact with you. The Slytherin wouldn’t either, they thought you were a disgrace as much as your parents did.
That led you to getting into some trouble. Which led you to detentions with Filch and even Hagrid when he was busy. Your heart changed when one of the said detentions met you with helping Hagrid care for the Bowtruckles that he kept on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. Your love for the creatures sparked something and Hagrid had a chat with you. You realized what you did was wrong and wanted to change it. After that, you resorted to being quiet and just keeping your mouth shut… Well, as much as you could. 
Last year, you even dared to start making friends. Starting with your teammates on the Quidditch team. No one ever seemed to stick, though. But, people did start becoming nicer to you once they could tell the change of heart… It always seemed hard to keep friends once they heard your last name. All but one person cared about your last name and you are very grateful for him.
So this leaves you here, waiting till the last carriage or till someone invited you to come with them. You glance around, looking for that said one friend you made last year but everyone looks the same in their robes.
Your search is interrupted by rather large body knocking into you, sending your book flying onto the muddy ground. You frown once more, looking at your now ruined book on the ground. You turn to see what giant had bumped into you. Meeting a brown pair of eyes, you knew exactly who it was.
“Weasley.” You sigh, staring at the tall red head. “You’ve ruined my book!” You cry as he bends down to pick it up for you. He tries to open it but the mud keeps it sucked shut.
“I’m sor--”
“Daddy can buy you a new one.” The other one buds in, a scold grows on your face. No matter what your parents have said, you’ve always found the Weasley twins entertaining, to say the least. The three of you have your feud but it’s much more… playful than what others seem to think. They’ve always seemed to like riling you up, especially after first year. After the attitude check you had, you’ve realized it’s become a bit harmless and rather fun to argue with them.
“Which one are you, again?” You question, breaking the standoff. They both scoff, they loved playing that game with their mother but it just hits differently when others say it. You feel a bit bad and thought you went a bit too far, looking at the face of the one who initially bumped into, he looks a bit defeated at the fact that you can’t tell the difference.
“(Y/N)!” A familiar voice interrupts the silence. You turn and see your friend, Cedric, waving you over to him and his group. A large smile appears on your face. You wave back and turn back to face the twins.
“Always a pleasure, boys.” You chirp, your mood obviously changed. “I hope to see you in DADA this year.” The tall one then hands you back your book. “Thank you, George.” Grabbing it, you make sure to take a glance back at Fred, the smirk on your face matches his.
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panharmonium · 4 years ago
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Merlin and Naruto
I did Merlin here, so here’s Naruto! :D
[disclaimer for everyone: I have only watched up through Season 10 of Shippuden (the arc with the Five Kage Summit), and I am trying to avoid spoilers for everything after that point, so please don’t interact with this (including tags, because tumblr shows them to me automatically) unless you are avoiding ALL spoilers.  For me, this includes discussion about whether you like/dislike future seasons, comparisons of various seasons in terms of quality, etc.  Thanks, everyone! <3]
My favorite parent-child relationship: I know they’re not blood-related, but Iruka and Naruto have me crying every time I see them together.  Naruto straight-up says that when he’s with Iruka he feels like he knows what it’s like to have a father, and honestly, Iruka loves Naruto so much at this point that he would insta-adopt him if Naruto asked.  I love how Naruto always cites Iruka as the first person who cared for him even later in the show when Iruka hasn’t had as much screentime, and when I saw Iruka cry because he’s so proud of Naruto at the end of the Pain arc, it was just...too much for my little heart to handle.
My favorite sibling relationship: You know, thinking about it, almost all of the people in Naruto are only children, as far as we know!  But in terms of just that sibling vibe - Sakura and Naruto definitely give me that feel.  I know he has a crush on her, but their relationship has always felt more sibling-like to me, and I especially love how deep their bond has become by the time we get to Shippuden.  They are just so comfortable with each other now - the depth of the love and friendship they feel for each other is palpable.  
My favorite family relationship (other): I adore Naruto’s relationship with Jiraiya.  That scene where Naruto falls asleep against his back almost killed me, and Jiraiya’s later line, “Your smile is my salvation” - that was too much.  It absolutely destroyed me.  The way Jiraiya kind of gave up on everything after his old life went to hell - neverending wars, Orochimaru gone, his original students dead, his student’s students dead, Minato dead - he just ran away after that, and it was meeting Naruto that kind of rekindled that spark of hope in him and helped him reconnect with his community and rediscover a sense of purpose in his life.  Naruto enabled him to finally come home, and I think that’s beautiful.
My favorite friendship between two people: There are so many friendships in Naruto that I love (one of the greatest things about this show for me has been how little focus is given to romantic relationships, at least so far; it’s very much a friendship-oriented show), but right now I’m in a bit of a Kakashi-Yamato hole.  I was super primed to not like Yamato when he first showed up, because him being there meant that my favorite character WASN’T there, and also he ended up replacing Kakashi on the one mission where the team finally found Sasuke, but the guy won me over in the end.  He is one of my favorite characters now - my heart just swells every time I see him - and I think his relationship with Kakashi is super interesting.  I’ve written before about how Kakashi’s only truly intimate friendships are with people who are dead, and I do think that applies when it comes to Yamato, too, even though the two of them are obviously very companionable and close.  There is still a level to that relationship where Kakashi is a bit of a mentor figure, the “superior officer,” which results in a degree of (still friendly and affectionate) distance.  And as with all of his other relationships, Kakashi doesn’t really confide in Yamato about his life or open up to him in the same way that he does when he talks to his dead friends - but at the same time, there is an element to their relationship that doesn’t exist in Kakashi’s other friendships, and it’s the fact that Kakashi trusts Yamato with his kids, implicitly and without reservation.  Kakashi’s entire life right now is very much enmeshed in what happens to his students, and even if he doesn’t necessarily talk about that with Yamato, Yamato is still deeply involved in that work.  Yamato VOLUNTEERED for that work.  And he continues to dedicate himself to it even when his first mission as Kakashi’s stand-in ends up going completely off the rails and turning into WAY more than he signed up for.  He keeps doing his utmost for Kakashi’s kids without it even being his original responsibility, and that is such an unusual thing, for Kakashi, who in every other circumstance is always the one stepping in to help other people, the one who always shoulders his burdens alone.  Nobody ever asks Kakashi if he needs help with these incredibly high-needs children, and neither does Yamato - but the difference is that Yamato jumps in to help regardless, and he stays no matter how complicated things get.  That’s huge, and it’s only going to become more important.  It’s just - it is difficult for Kakashi to have intimate friendships with people who don’t share his history, and this rules out almost everybody else in the world, because all the people who truly share his own history are dead.  But the degree to which Yamato has altruistically and irreversibly entwined himself into the most important parts of Kakashi’s new history - the chapters being written right now, the ones that are going to define the rest of Kakashi’s life - means that Yamato is well on his way to breaking through that wall and becoming the first exception to a universal rule. [There is a lot to be said on Kakashi’s side of this, too, like - every time Kakashi refuses to call Yamato by his code name I lose my mind just a little bit, and I have MANY thoughts about Kakashi basically dragging folks who’ve been victimized or exploited or experimented on out of ANBU and then absorbing them into his own team, where they become a part of a family-type unit that respects them and cares about them and treats them like human beings.  I mean, there’s a huge difference between the Yamato we meet in S2 vs. the Yamato we know in S10 (and the same thing goes for Sai!) - and that’s something I think about a lot.]
My favorite friendship between a group:  I love all of the team dynamics, but Team Gai is a fave XD  The absurd contrast between oh-so-serious Neji vs. Gai/Lee’s incredible goofiness (with Tenten’s exasperation in between) is comedy gold.  I screamed with laughter in S1 when Gai was trying to get Neji to put his hand in the circle and do their “shout a slogan like a sports team” thing - I’ve never seen anything funnier on this show than jonin!Neji trying to put up with Gai’s antics.  
My favorite mentorship: My favorite mentorship is always Kakashi and whichever kid happens be onscreen with him at that moment, but I’ll be honest and say that Kakashi+Sasuke was the first dynamic that got me actually invested in this show (as opposed to me just watching it because it was on and not really caring what happened to any of the characters).  They are still the mentorship dynamic about which I have the most complex feelings, and that is especially true after the last season we watched.  I will probably end up making a separate post about this, because I still have not written down all of my thoughts about the end of Season 10 and I am still trapped in my feelings about this very lost child and the only adult who ever tried to help him the way he deserved to be helped, and I know I have way more to say about them than I can reasonably fit in this bullet point.  But - the short version is that I am super compelled by the way that every tragedy that’s befallen Kakashi is precisely what shapes him into the only adult who can help this particular kid, the way seemingly senseless events ended up putting Kakashi in a position where he’s the only adult who can intervene on this kid’s behalf many, many years later.  The way Sasuke’s plight (and the potential that Kakashi has to help him) suddenly grants meaning to the worst parts of Kakashi’s life - that knocks me on my butt.  
My favorite rivalry: So I probably would not have said this until the episode where Kakashi comes three seconds away from being made Hokage, but I’m gonna say Gai & Kakashi, solely to express my love and appreciation for Gai in that episode.  This is the ep where Gai challenges Kakashi to a race through the entire village (as a sort of “last hurrah before we can’t do this kind of silly shit anymore” thing) and Kakashi is initially kind of reluctant to do it, because he’s stressed out about a lot of things, but he does end up agreeing to it, and then he has SO much fun, and I LOVED this so much; I can’t even tell you.  This moment takes place immediately after Kakashi returns from that horrible, awful confrontation with Sasuke, and everything preceding this scene was very hard for me to see, because everybody is just asking Kakashi to do more and more and more for them without giving him even a hot minute to be like “i almost just killed my own kid.  i almost just had to kill my own kid, who was trying to kill my other kid, who was trying to kill kid #1 first, so i wouldn’t have assume the burden of killing him myself.”  Nobody checks on him, nobody asks, and Kakashi has to just hold onto that horror and also fret over the uncertain yet chilling secrets that Madara Uchiha disclosed and also prepare to shoulder the crushing weight of an office he never asked for - AND THEN.  GAI SHOWS UP.  And even though Gai doesn’t really know what happened, he still checks Kakashi over from top to bottom to make sure he’s in one piece, and then he drags him into this stupid competition, and it makes Kakashi LAUGH.  They go running all out across the craterized scene of devastation that used to be their home, and they have FUN doing it, and Kakashi straight-up tells Gai, “This was just what I needed,” which - god.  It would be great if Kakashi had somebody he could actually talk to, sure, but there’s also a space in our lives for people who just cheer us up, no questions asked.  It’s like when you tell someone you have a problem and they ask, “Do you want to talk about it or do you want to be distracted?”  Sometimes you don’t need to talk about it.  Sometimes you just need people who will take you for a goofy footrace and make you feel like you’re running too fast for any of your troubles to ever touch you again, for a few minutes. 
My favorite hatred/antipathy: The answer to this question used to be Kakashi and Itachi, and while I’m even MORE fascinated by their dynamic now than ever, it’s taken on a whole new dimension, given that I think Itachi is (secretly) thrilled to see someone like Kakashi so committed to taking him down and keeping Sasuke safe.  So, in place of that, I’ll just say that I love how much all of the Akatsuki cannot stand each other XD  Almost none of them get along, and it makes me laugh every time - I can’t believe they ever get anything done, though I guess that’s to be expected when you get that many super-criminals together in a room.  I especially love how they all think Orochimaru is so stupid...cannot get over them laughing at him and his body-snatching immortality schemes.
My favorite potential relationship between characters who never talk in canon: Okay, these are both silly answers, but - I would have KILLED to see Jiraiya interacting with Minato’s team.  Like, I’m certain they spent time together, but honestly, what I wouldn’t give to have witnessed some of it.  All I could think about during that mini-arc where Jiraiya teaches Naruto how to sync up with Gamariki was how little!Kakashi would have taken one look at the dancing frogs and decided he would be using dog!summons for the rest of his life; meanwhile Obito would have already been in the frog’s mouth begging to be launched into the air like a cannonball.  Also - my sister said the other night how it is a CRIME that we never got to see Sasuke forced to interact with Jiraiya and honestly, that is too true.
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whenihaveyouromione · 3 years ago
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When I Have You - Chapter 26
Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3 if you’d prefer!
Follow this story’s Instagram account whenihaveyou.romione if you’d like.
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Chapter 26
The clock had barely reached five minutes past five when Ron heard the front door to the flat open. A moment later, Hermione entered, shrugging off her Ministry robes. She disappeared into the bedroom briefly without even looking at him, and when she returned she was wearing a t-shirt and plain pants, and her hair was hanging down at her shoulders after having been tied up all day. 
She busied herself for a few more moments, using her wand to sort through the bag she always took to work. Out came a coat, some quills and an empty container that had — that morning — contained her lunch. She did all this without saying a word. 
It was only when the kitchen was in the sink to be washed and her bag was hanging perfectly on the hook by the door did she look over at Ron and smile. She looked happy, relaxed, but there was also wariness in her expression.
He returned the smile, though it didn’t reach completely to the corners of his mouth either. 
This had been their life for weeks now — tentative looks, incomplete smiles and a whole lot of uncertainty about where the other stood. Ron had once been able to easily ascertain what she was thinking. He’d have a fairly good idea about how she was feeling and always seemed to know just what she needed. But these days… things had changed. 
They had both been trying to fix their relationship, and for the most part, it was working. Hermione had been leaving work on time and getting home when she was supposed to, while Ron had been trying to not let what had happened get to him so much, trying to be more understanding of what she needed to do. But it was moments like these — when they’d not seen each other for most of the day — that were still a challenge. It was uncomfortable and a little awkward, because it was obvious to the other what was on their mind. Until now, everything about them had been a natural progression. Now, parts just seemed forced. They smiled, they welcomed each other, yet the knowledge that there was still a problem that needed to be fixed lingered.
They were getting there, and a lot of the time, it was good. It was just sometimes where it still wasn’t.
“Hey,” Hermione said, coming into the kitchen and standing on her tiptoes to kiss Ron. He returned it, relishing in the feeling of her lips against his. They’d been doing this more in recent days. Kissing, hugging, touching each other again. It felt better than Ron would ever admit out loud, but he was fairly certain she enjoyed it, too. After all, she was usually the one to initiate it. 
“Hey,” he replied. “How was your day?” Her eyes drifted to the stove in the kitchen where a pot was bubbling on top.
Ron had come home five minutes before her and he’d started dinner. This was a common occurrence. He got home just that little bit earlier, so therefore he started. It only seemed fair, even if neither of them had ever discussed it. Usually, she’d help and they would cook together, but today, Hermione sat at the table instead.
“It was really good,” she said, nodding. “We got so much done today. So many new policies and things written down. The drafts, of course. We aren’t really up to having a published law yet. But everyone is on board with the ideas I’ve been suggesting. It’s great. After Kingsley asked us to start thinking about stuff, all I can do is think about how many things I want to present to him for the rights of magical creatures. Their skills are so undervalued and underappreciated and it’s just not fair.”
Despite himself, Ron smiled. He loved how she spoke with so much passion about what she did, and the way her eyes lit up when she told him all about her day was something he’d always envisioned after work. Then sitting down to a nice meal, talking about their day and all the exciting things they did. He loved that she was so passionate about her work, and he liked that she was so good at what she did, too. He’d always admired that trait in her, and he wished that this had been them the whole time. He would much rather her come home to him and tell him about what she did than not come home at all.
The fact that she did that now was the best thing he ever could have asked for.  
“That’s great,” he said, peering into the saucepan. The sauce was bubbling along nicely, the spoon charmed to stir once every three minutes.
“How was your day?” Hermione asked. “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you for lunch today. They gave me a later one than usual and —”
“My day was the same as any other,” Ron said, cutting her off before she gave him a spiel about her work roster. Ever since he’d told her he would like to have lunch with her at least once a week, she’d taken to giving him reasons as to why she couldn’t when she was unable to make it. Despite him telling her over and over again that he understood it was beyond her control most of the time, she still seemed to feel guilty whenever their schedules didn’t line up.  
Sometimes, Ron wished he’d never said anything to begin with. Her obliviousness to the situation sometimes seemed better than her fretting over something they both knew she had no control over.
“Mostly theory with a little practical at the end of the day,” he continued. “Tomorrow’s all practical.”
“What was the topic today?” Hermione asked curiously, sounding genuinely interested in what he was doing in Auror training. He enjoyed telling her about all the amazing things he’d learnt as much as he loved listening to all of her daily successes. 
“Continuing on from yesterday,” he said. “Identifying Dark magic where it isn’t obvious. I think I’m alright at it now. Harry seems to have an innate ability to spot it where the rest of us can’t, but is that surprising?”
“Not really,” Hermione said. “I guess not.” She thought for a moment then smiled up at him. “But I’m sure you’re amazing at it, too. Don’t sell yourself short.” 
Ron shrugged. “There’s some things I manage easier than Harry. This is just his area of expertise. We’d probably make a good team when we’re qualified.”
“Of course!” Hermione said brightly. “Ron, have I ever told you how I know you’re going to make an amazing Auror one day? I haven’t even seen you do anything, but you’re so… this job is right for you. You bring so much to the profession.”
Ron didn’t say anything. He checked the sauce again and turned down the stove. Eventually, he turned back to her and said, “That day seems so far away, though, doesn’t it? Who knew three years could feel so long when you’re really looking forward to something?”
“It’ll come eventually,” Hermione assured him. “And you’ll be one of the best Aurors the Ministry has ever seen. I know it.”
Ron snorted. “Maybe.”
“You will.”
Ron shrugged. That was what he wanted to be, and if truth be told, he really was one of the better trainees (along with Harry) but he didn’t want to label himself as one of the best ever. That felt like a lot of pressure. He just wanted to be a good Auror.
He Summoned some plates onto the kitchen bench. He then pulled out two glasses. “Drink?” he asked Hermione.
“Just water,” Hermione said. “I don’t think I had enough of it today.”
“That busy, huh?” Ron said, refraining from reminding her once again that looking after herself was more important than completing her work. She’d heard it enough. Telling her would only bring tension to what was becoming one of the easiest conversations they’d had in weeks. Besides, it was small steps with her. At least she was remembering to eat every day — even if it wasn’t always with Ron. 
“Just a lot of discussions,” Hermione assured him. “Sometimes my mind just gets away from me…”
“Sometimes?” Ron laughed.
She blushed. 
“It’s alright,” Ron said. “Lucky you have me to help you remember.” He placed the glass of water in front of her and then ran his hand along her back comfortingly. He really did miss their closeness, and tonight seemed like the perfect time to start initiating contact with her again. 
She smiled at his touch, even if she tried not to show it by drinking her water. 
Smiling himself, he turned to go back to preparing dinner, but he was stalled by Hermione grabbing his hand. Soft, warm skin on his that sent shivers all the way around his body. Merlin… he’d definitely not felt that in weeks. 
“Ron…” Hermione shifted in her chair, suddenly looking uncomfortable and completely unaware of the sudden effect she was having on him with her hand in his. 
“Yeah?” he said. 
More hesitation. She averted his gaze for a moment before returning it to him. He’d never seen her so uncertain in her life. She was always so sure of herself, so confident in having an answer for everything. It was disconcerting seeing her struggle with handling their relationship. She seemed clueless at times, like nothing in the Hogwarts library had the information she needed, or the words to express. 
“We’re okay now, aren’t we?” she said softly. “I mean… I know it’s not perfect, and I know we still have things to work on, but… it’s okay, isn’t it? What we’re doing now? How things are progressing forward?”
There was a thumping in Ron’s chest that had not been present before now. He didn’t even need a moment to give his answer. “We’re okay,” he said. “Things are going well, if you ask me.” He withdrew his hand from hers and grinned. “You just touched me and I kind of wanted to take you to bed.”
She smiled. “You can if you want.”
“I’m cooking.”
She smiled again, his words seeming to have some kind of effect on her worries. “I’ve been really trying, Ron.”
“Me too,” Ron said. 
“And it’s working?”
“Is what I’m doing working for you?”
“It never stopped working for me. Ron…” And now she blushed a deep red in a very un-Hermione-like fashion. “You have always made me feel so many things all at once. You’re the one thing in my life that is not logical, that doesn’t always make sense, but also the one thing that I never want to leave it. I love you so, so much, and I hate what’s happened to us. I hate that I never saw it, and I hate that it’s my fault.”
Ron sat down in the chair opposite her, taking her hand again. It was so soft, so gentle, and he didn’t want to let her go ever again. “It’s both of our faults,” he assured her. “We’re both sort of to blame. I got myself into this with you, knowing what you’re like. You… well, you got yourself into this too, knowing what I was like. We both just failed to remember.” He smiled back at her, giving her hand a squeeze. “We’ll be alright,” he promised her. “I can’t imagine spending another day without you. Even when we’re old, decrepit things, it’ll be fine because I’ll have you.” 
“It’s just not like it used to be,” Hermione said softly.
“We were far too dependent on one another before anyway,” Ron said. “We can make it better. It might just take more time.”
Hermione visibly relaxed and Ron brought her hand to his lips. 
Although he knew that it wasn’t, in that moment things almost felt normal again. The two of them sitting at the table, holding hands and talking. This was how it had once been and this was how it was supposed to be all the time. 
Things hadn’t been right for so long, but this felt right again all of a sudden — as if a weight had been lifted from both of them by the simple question of are we okay?
Of course they were okay, because they were both making the effort. They both wanted to be okay. 
They looked at each other, smiling together, and Ron sensing the sudden joy, not just in himself, but in her, too. They loved each other so damn much and for the first time ever, Ron realised that she loved him just as much as he loved her. She just had a different way of expressing her love than he did. 
And as he realised this, his own love for her — something he’d been too afraid to unleash lest he be hurt again — burst from its hiding place, nearly knocking him backwards by the sudden impact. He jumped as such intense feelings flooded him once again, overpowering all of his senses. She was so beautiful, and he could smell her perfume, see her smile, see everything he’d always loved about her. She was… perfect the way she was. 
These feelings, this love, had him jumping to his feet, dragging her up with him. Her eyes… they were so beautiful, so happy to be with him. 
“Ron —” Hermione began, seeming to sense the intense moment that had come on, but she was cut off by Ron cupping her face and kissing her hard on the mouth. A kiss hadn’t felt so good in… well… a very long time. Maybe when they’d first kissed, in the middle of a war, it had been this good. But in a way, this was even better, because it wasn’t a kiss that either of them thought might be their last. 
She responded for a moment, kissing him back with as much force, but then she pulled away, looking up at him.  “Ron,” she breathed. She looked pleased and flustered and delighted all at once. 
He held her for a few moments longer, enjoying the feeling of having her — properly — in his arms again. He wanted to hold her forever and never let her go — never think about letting her go. But that was impossible, he knew, especially now because — 
He swore. 
“What?” Hermione asked. 
Ron let her go as abruptly as he’d grabbed her and hurried back into the kitchen. He peered into the saucepan he’d momentarily forgotten about. The sauce had burnt at the bottom. 
He looked back to Hermione and smirked ever so slightly. “I blame you,” he said.
She frowned.
“I burnt dinner because I was distracted.”
Hermione flushed, another smile creeping up to her lips. And then she laughed, and the sound of her laugh was sweet to Ron’s ears. There hadn’t been much laughter here recently, and it filled him with so much love for her — so much happiness. 
“I wasn’t really hungry, anyway,” she said a moment later.
Ron stared down at the burnt pot and Vanished it with his wand. “You know what?” he said. “Neither am I.” He took the few steps to reach her and embraced her once more. This time, she didn’t pull away, but encouraged him to keep kissing her. 
This was how it was supposed to be. This was how he wanted it to be. All the time. 
They were going to be okay. Even if it took them as many more weeks, they were going to be okay in the end.
They just had to keep having evenings like these. 
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r-ray · 4 years ago
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Headcanon: Merlin can communicate with animals, including horses. It often comes in handy, because horses are quite intelligent and have great sense of smell, so they notice things that people don’t. For example, they can sense if someone is afraid, or ready to attack... Or desires someone.
Of course, Camelot’s horses adore Merlin. His own and Arthur’s especially. Besides, the two mares - Rista and Gwynon - are very fond of each other. And they definitely can smell Arthur’s and Merlin’s feelings. They constantly try to push Merlin to act on it, but he thinks that they simply confuse friendship for something else (after all, even with all their intelligence, the horses are not people. They can’t just explain to Merlin in what tone Arthur talks about him, when he sneaks to stables to feed them apples. And how damn often). So they try to set up situations to push those two dumb humans towards each other. For example, Arthur’s mare fakes sore ankle, so Arthur has to ride with Merlin in his saddle; and then there was that patrol when Merlin’s horse decided to ride belly-deep in river, so that Merlin had to take off his clothes to dry them... 
And nothing works. The horses can’t comprehend it: why their riders won’t just nuzzle each other’s necks for a few minutes, when they’re tired or sad? It makes everything better, honestly, Merlin! Look at us and follow the lead!
But, apparently, humans are not so smart, even those that speak animal languages. So the mares keep coming up with new ideas (nuzzling each other’s necks a lot, because it does make life much better), Merlin keeps ignoring their nudges, and Arthur keeps whining to them about what a horrible servant Merlin is... While smelling all forlorn and longing.
Until one day Arthur and Merlin go hunting, and bandits attack them. They manage to escape, but Merlin’s horse is stolen. The reasonable thing to do is to return to Camelot, but Arthur feels sorry for the horse (she saved Merlin’s life more than once, and is generally a sweet and friendly creature), so he decides that they have to try to take her back. They manage to do it, but Merlin uses magic to fight one of the bandits and Arthur sees it...
After big and ugly scandal Arthur forbids Merlin to return to Camelot and tries to leave. Except that his horse refuses to move. Merlin rolls his eyes and tells Arthur to take his mare as well, because Arthur’s horse won’t go without her (and technically she’s Camelot’s horse, but obviously Arthur decided to forget it for the sake of his dramatic leave). Arthur thinks that Merlin’s gone mad, but tries to do as he told... But now both horses refuse to move.
“Go,” Merlin says, looking at his horse. “I’ll be all right.”
The horse neighs indignantly.
“And what did you expect?!” Merlin flings up his hands. “Magic is forbidden in Camelot! Of course he banishes me!”
The both horses give him a series of snorts.
“Oh for god’s... Stop your meddling, it doesn’t help! Mind your own business, you two!”
“Have you gone mad, Merlin?” Arthur intervenes.
“No, I haven’t,” Merlin snorts, not so different from his mare.
“Because it looks like you’re talking to horses,” Arthur spells.
“I do talk to the horses,” Merlin sighs. “They refuse to return to Camelot until we talk.”
Despite Arthur’s indignation and Merlin’s admonitions, Arthur’d have better chance at returning on a wooden horse than on his own. So he has to stay the night. At first the evening is grim and heavy with their silence, but then Arthur’s curiosity gets the best of him and he starts asking how did it happen that horses have some opinion on what their riders should do. Merlin answers eagerly and cautiously at the same time, afraid to hope, and Arthur feels that Merlin is hiding something.
After a restless night, when neither of them gets much sleep, listening to each other’s breathing and tossing and turning on their bedrolls, Arthur comes to his senses. He realizes that he’s not as angry with Merlin’s magic as with the lies, and he keeps hearing his bitter words: “What did you expect?! Of course he banishes me!”
Can he really blame Merlin for keeping secrets? Isn’t it his own fault, that after all these years Merlin couldn’t trust him?
So when the sun rises and Merlin gets up to prepare some breakfast, Arthur calls him: “Merlin”.
“Yes?“
“Prepare the horses. We better head back to Camelot, before Leon sends a search party”.
“W...” Merlin utters, but halts himself abruptly; his eyes are hopeful and red from the lack of sleep. Arthur can read the word from his lips though. We?
He nods, not trusting himself to say anything. He’s still angry, but thinking about how he would have banished Merlin and never saw him again... He knows very well that he would hate himself and his whole life after one day without Merlin, but it would have been too late.
They ride the whole day, the horses are somewhat fretful, but obedient. They don’t talk much, but the tension slowly drains out, leaving them both just tired and sorry. 
Arthur thinks that the horses look at them disapprovingly.
Yet, he’s grateful to them. So in the evening, when Merlin busies himself with cleaning the cauldron, he gets up and wanders off to where they are plucking the leaves from a blackthorn shrub. 
The mares eye him skeptically, and he eyes them suspiciously in response. But when he raises his palm and begins to reluctantly comb their manes, they give up and snort in his hair gently.
For all the spirits of lands and waters, the man needs someone to snort in his hair.
He pats their necks and shoulders, then sighs and asks, not really expecting them to respond in any way - after all, he’s not a sorcerer: “What was that about meddling?”
The mares look at him carefully. Then at each other. This human can’t understand our language, but maybe?..
Arthur’s horse carefully takes the edge of his sleeve between her teeth and pulls him to face Merlin. Then she gently shoves his shoulder.
“What?..” he looks puzzled. The mare exhales exasperatedly, turns to Merlin’s horse and nuzzles her neck. Then looks at Arthur.
He frowns. “What?”
She shoves him again. Then nuzzles her friend’s neck. And looks at Arthur. 
At the third round he narrows his eyes and glances at Merlin. “Seriously,” he mutters. “You know he’s a servant, right? And I’m the king?”
The horse rolls back her head. He thinks that she’d roll her eyes, if she could.
“He’ll just laugh at me for this!”
Merlin’s mare neighs angrily.
He bites his lip. Horses or not, they stopped him from doing something very stupid.
He looks at them one last time, his eyebrow pinched, and strides to Merlin.
As Merlin rises to his feet, all disheveled and apprehensive, Arthur takes a deep breath and says: “I’m still angry...”
“I know...”
“Shut up, Merlin”.
He does.
“I am still angry,” Arthur warns him, feeling awkward and fluttery in his chest. “For you lying to me all these years”.
Merlin frowns and opens his mouth.
“But,” Arthur hastens to continue, before this idiot says something and breaks Arthur’s resolve, “I understand why you couldn’t tell me the truth. And I’m sorry for that. You were always loyal, and you protected me, even when it was putting you in danger. I... You didn’t deserve to be afraid to tell me.”
Merlin snaps his mouth shut and swallows. Blinks a few times, suspiciously fast, glances away, then pulls on a shaky smile. “Hey, you’ve learned the word ‘sorry’...”
Arthur sighs exasperatedly, shakes his head and pulls Merlin into a hug.
Merlin stands still. It’s strange; he always taunts Arthur with them hugging, no matter that they are, well, a king and a servant, and therefore can’t hug, or shouldn’t, at least; Arthur thought that Merlin would give him some enthusiastic pats, and then would say some stupid joke...
Instead, Merlin places his hands on Arthur’s shoulder blades so carefully as if he’s petting a skittish forest animal, and Arthur can feel the fingers curling in, not quite digging into his cloth, but like... Like he wants to, and stops himself from doing it.
A gentle neighing echoes from the bushes. Arthur swallows, tilts his head and nuzzles into Merlin’s neck. The fingers dig harder, and he can feel Merlin’s breath hitching, and he remembers the real reason he never hugs Merlin.
Because this.
Slowly, like water makes it’s way through the cracks in the stone, Merlin settles in against him. His muscles unwind, his posture loosens, his head nests on Arthur’s shoulder and his breath tickles the skin behind Arthur’s ear. It’s dizzying, and slightly scary, and it’s good to know how it feels, even if they’ll never...
The minutes pass, before Merlin finally pulls away. His hands still linger on Arthur’s shoulders, warming his skin through the clothes.
“I... um... I probably should...” Merlin mutters, not looking at Arthur and nodding vaguely at something that he should, probably, do.
“Yes, of course,” Arthur clears his throat and nods, collecting his thoughts.
Merlin moves around awkwardly, tripping over his own legs and biting his lips. Arthur can’t help but feel wistful. Good to know how it feels. Or maybe it was better not knowing.
He doesn’t notice, too engrossed in his thoughts, that the horses consider him from the bushes. Maybe we were talking to the wrong human. What do you think?
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imaginethebeautifulworld · 5 years ago
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For that Anon who asked me epochs ago for some more headcanons about Arthur as a boyfriend:
He’s tried to sync his schedule so that he can walk you home from work at least once a week.
He sends you either a sappy letter embellishing all that he adores about you or a dried flower from his garden every Monday morning without fail.
You’re kind of, sort of, definitely in love with his voice, and some nights when insomnia refuses to flee, you always know you can call him. Sometimes, he’ll read from whatever happens to be closest- including but not limited to his paperwork, Merlin fanfic, a cereal box, and, on one memorable occasion, the instruction manual for the freezer. Sometimes he’ll rant about Séamus’ most recent shenanigans, always with an undeniable undertone of fondness that you know to never point out. And sometimes, on very rare occasions, he’ll simply sing to you, sleep always following close behind.
He tries so hard not to show it, but he loves doting on you. Part of him misses having all the kids around, and if you show any indication of enjoying the extra attention, he’ll be more forward about giving you presents with a much higher frequency.
He has eclectic interests, and really, depending on your own preferences, would try to plan out any dates accordingly. Dance classes, walking tours, films, clubs, zip-lining, the Aquarium, arcades? Anything’s good with him, especially if it happens to be something he isn’t familiar with. Truthfully though, he has a habit of even making a quick trip to Primark for a set of pillowcases turn into a romantic outing.
He is far more tactile than you had first expected him to be, though he tends to be more reserved in public. When out-and-about, the most he’ll really do is hold your hand, sometimes tug you close to him on the bench, but at home he loves to show his affection. It often plays out in shoulder massages, resting his head in your lap while reading, sporadic kisses peppered to your cheeks and lips and forehead seemingly out of the blue.
He does have a habit of kissing you in public though, especially if any of the other Nations are nearby. He never really outgrew that cocksure pride at your having chosen him, nor can he ever resist the urge to remind everyone that he’s not letting you go without a fight.
You’ve learnt to humour him at this point, but you’ve also come to accept it as yet another way of him showing you how much he cares for you.
As much as you adore the gentleman and the academic, you’re equally in love with the activist and the geek.
Some of the moments that endear him most to you are those times when he’s sitting under a tree in the back garden, your head in his lap, his arms flapping about wildly as he passionately rambles about anything and everything, until, at long last, he sighs in defeat, folding forward to press a kiss to your forehead, grumbling out a threat should you dare say anything to anyone.
You were surprised to learn that Arthur doesn’t really keep to a proper dining schedule; you make sure the looney eats more than biscuits and the occasional takeaway. Fortunately, since you two had started courting, he’s actually making an effort to eat at least two proper meals a day, if only to help stop your constant fretting over him.
This man is absolutely hopeless when it comes to technology; you can’t help but tease him for the time he nearly, quite literally, cursed his laptop to oblivion because of an unexpected pop-up while he was attempting to watch The Swarm.
He loves taking you out, but given the chance? He would gladly stay curled up in bed with you, showering you with sweet nothings and soft caresses all day long.
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rosapeachhogwartsmystery · 5 years ago
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Sharing our thoughts and feelings in the Moonlight (Fictober day 2 - Reader x Charlie Weasley)
Masterlist  (To view my Masterlist, visit my Tumblr page)
Words: 2.1k
HPHM Fictober Prompt day 2: Moonlight
Summary: In the middle of the night, you went to the Forbidden Forest. You wanted to be alone for once, wanting to think about the events of last year. However, you noticed you weren’t going to be alone that night. Maybe that is a good thing after all. 
@hphm-fictober
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“Y/N… What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”
You didn’t turn to them, you kept looking at the lake you had found during your hike through the Forbidden Forest. You just needed some time to think on your own, without people fretting over you. It was like that ever since you came back from the Portrait Vault. Jacob left you once again, Rakepick betrayed you and your friends seemed to be changing a lot.
To be honest, you probably had changed as well ever since you came back from the Portrait Vault. You duelled a Dragon and you had to stop Rakepick. Then you saw your brother, but you weren’t sure if you could trust him. What if he had changed over the years too? And what if that change wasn’t good? How could you trust someone you hadn’t seen in years? For all you knew, he could have turned into one of the bad guys. Rakepick turned out to be one of them, so why wouldn’t your brother be one of the bad guys.
You could tell your brother was a little hurt because you were hesitant to get him out of the portrait. But could he really blame you? Not everyone was trustworthy.
 “Y/N.”
You looked up into these familiar and warm eyes. Of course, it had to be Charlie Weasley who was in the Forbidden Forest. Someone who was also quite affected from visiting the Cursed Vault with you, Bill, Ben and Merula.
“What is it, Charlie?” You said softly.
“I was wondering why you were here… You don’t usually show up here unless it has to do something with the Vaults.” He said, looking slightly concerned. “You aren’t doing something dangerous on your own, are you?”
“Oh, no. I’m not here because of the Vaults.”
“You are not?” He raised an eyebrow at you.
“No, not at all.”
“Since when do you go into the Forbidden Forest when you aren’t looking for things that have to do with the Vaults?”
“Since it’s the only place where I can be alone with my thoughts. Or at least, that’s what I thought.” You sighed and then you shook your head slightly. “I suppose I should go back then…”
“No, you don’t have to leave because of me. I mean, I’m just surprised to see you here, that’s all. Especially at this hour…”
“I could say the same thing to you, at least when we are talking about the time.” You rolled your eyes.
  “So, you are here because you want to be alone…?” Charlie asked.
“That was the idea, yes.” You mumbled softly.
“Too many people fretting over you?”
“Is it that obvious…?”
The two of you became silent for a minute. You both seemed to be looking at the lake. The moonlight made the lake seem a lot brighter. It definitely made the place look more magical and mysterious. It wasn’t surprising though. The sky was clear and a full moon was visible in the sky at this point of the Forest. It seemed to be pretty calm around here, although you couldn’t really lower your guard.
“Are you still thinking about leaving Hogwarts?” You decided to ask Charlie.
“Well, you convinced me to stay, so not really. However, the idea is still quite tempting from time to time… I suppose it depends on how I am feeling about the whole situation.” Charlie said honestly.
“I agree, leaving Hogwarts does sound tempting from time to time.”
“What?” He blinked for a moment. “Don’t tell me I have to be the one to convince you to stay here.”
You let out a soft laugh. “Don’t worry about it, I won’t actually leave. That would be quite hypocritical of me, don’t you think so?”
  You kept looking at the water and how the moonlight seemed to make everything look bright. “I have to admit, after seeing Jacob, I wasn’t really sure what to think anymore. Who can we trust and how do we know everyone will be safe in the end? Things seemed to be really unclear and I don’t really know what to do anymore…”
“That sounds similar to the thoughts I had.” Charlie said honestly. “We can’t just forget what happened in the Vaults, even if we both wanted to.”
“It would make things easier, you know? Just moving on without thinking about what happened.”
“It definitely would, but we don’t have much of a choice, do we now?”
You grinned lightly and shook your head. “I guess not.”
You both seemed to be silent for a little while again and you slowly began looking at Charlie again. The moonlight also seemed to be reflected in his brown eyes. It definitely looked pretty…
You blushed slightly and quickly looked somewhere else. There was no time for admiring Charlie’s eyes in the beautiful moonlight. No, you were here to think about things, trying to make sense of things that happened. Maybe reflecting on things would help you to figure out what to do next.
  But here you were, standing nearby the Forest Lake with Charlie Weasley and you were having these thoughts about Charlie you shouldn’t have. Was this the effect of the full moon? Did it make you feel crazy?
Luckily, Charlie wouldn’t be able to read your thoughts. It would make things really awkward. You were here to be alone, not wanting people to worry about you. Yet, being with Charlie made things somewhat more comfortable. Maybe it was because he was having similar thoughts at the moment. He probably hoped he was alone as well when he went to the Forest. Yet, here he found you.
Percy seemed to be quite worried about Charlie and was fretting over him besides looking after Fred and George. Last year changed a lot of people at Hogwarts. You almost felt responsible for the changes that happened. After all, you were the one who began looking for Jacob and the Cursed Vaults. If you didn’t…. Maybe all these bad things wouldn’t have happened.
  “I’m sorry….”
  Charlie turned to look at you again. “What are you sorry for?”
You shrugged a little. “Maybe for everything that has happened.”
“You can’t just blame yourself for everything. You haven’t done everything by yourself.”
“It was me who went looking for Jacob and the Cursed Vaults, if I never went looking for them, maybe all the bad things wouldn’t have happened…”
“And you wouldn’t have found your brother.” Charlie said honestly. “Y/N, you also have saved Hogwarts from a lot of curses. The Cursed Ice, the Sleep Walking curse and you also got everyone out of the portraits.”
“Maybe these curses would have never happened if I didn’t look for-”
“Your brother was the one who has been looking for the Vaults at first. He started something. Besides, if you didn’t do something, maybe R would have done something.” Charlie quickly cut you off and then he grabbed your hand, holding it tightly with both his hands. “You can’t just take all the blame for something you weren’t entirely responsible for.”
“Charlie, I have involved you and my friends into something really big, almost terrifying.” You said seriously, looking away from him. “If I had done this by myself, maybe you would all feel a lot better about things…”
  “Can you just stop blaming yourself?” Charlie said a little frustrated. “We all got involved because we wanted to.”
“That’s not true… I mean, I often had to convince-”
“It still was our own choice, Y/N.” He looked almost angry. “I want you to know, we all chose to join you with looking for the Vaults. We chose to do so ourselves. Not just because you convinced us to join. Besides, it wasn’t like your brother was entirely on his own when he was looking for the Vaults either.”
“Duncan…”
“Yes, he had Duncan to help him out.”
You frowned. “But Duncan died because of the Vaults…”
You could swear Charlie almost groaned in annoyance when you said that. “That’s… That wasn’t the point of this discussion. We wanted to join you because we wanted to and I want to let you know that it’s impossible for you to just do this all on your own.”
“So, I wouldn’t have been able to solve anything on my own?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Are you purposefully twisting my own words to make it seem like you screwed things up…?” Charlie narrowed his eyes a little.
“Maybe.”
  “W-well, don’t do such a thing…! You are already driving me a little mad by being here in the moonlight looking-…. Uhm…” Charlie blushed slightly and then he let go of your hand. “Never mind what I just said.”
“The moonlight is driving you crazy too?” You asked him softly.
He blinked. “You are noticing something too?”
You nodded and then you began blushing. “Well, yes… I mean, it makes things look very pretty and that includes…” You couldn’t even finish the sentence, blushing like crazy right now.
“Bloody hell, we certainly are a mess right now…” Charlie laughed softly, still blushing and unable to look you into the eyes.
“When aren’t we a mess when it comes to things like this…” You grinned lightly. “Are we that bad at expressing our feelings we have to get exposed to the moonlight of a full moon?”
“Sounds like something that’s actually true.”
“Maybe we should just head back and hope it will just pass.”
“Does it actually work that way…? Maybe has reached us from the inside.”
You snorted. “Well, I’d rather not be talking about it when the moonlight is basically intoxicating us to share what we are feeling. We are acting like true lunatics right now…”
“The moon is quite mysterious, maybe this is its way to make us do what were meant to do.”
  You looked at him nervously. “What if this will only make us more confused about things…? I don’t want to ruin what we already have…”
“I’m willing to take that risk as long as you are okay with it.” Charlie said honestly when he looked at you again.
“I swear to Merlin, if someone has used some sort of love potion or love spell on us, I will personally strangle them for this…”
“Then I will help you, because it obviously isn’t a fun prank…”
“So… Should we just do it…?” You looked at him, blushing slightly. “I mean, we both seem to want it…”
“I suppose that is true.” Charlie mumbled and then he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I’m not really familiar with this so…”
“And you think I am?” You snorted.
“Well, you attended the Yule Ball. You are probably more experienced than I am at this.” He rolled his eyes.
“Not really to be honest.” You grinned and then you moved closer to him. “I suppose it something new for the both of us. I don’t have much experience with these kinds of things either, because of the Vaults…”
“Well… It’s somewhat more comfortable knowing you aren’t an expert either.” Charlie chuckled.
  You two stared at each other before your heads moved closer to each other. Your lips slowly got closer to his and before you knew it, his lips were upon yours. It was a pretty tame kiss, but that wasn’t a problem. You both felt comfortable this way.
“Wow…” Charlie mumbled when your lips parted.
“That was different.” You said softly, blushing a bit more. “But in a good way.”
“Yes, different, but good…” Charlie mumbled.
“No regrets?” You asked him.
“Should I regret it?”
“Not really I suppose. I mean, it was a bit sudden for us to just… you know?”
Charlie chuckled. “Well, I don’t regret it. Besides, it definitely helped us to get rid of the negative thoughts we were having.”
“I suppose you are right.” You smiled. “I kind of feel better.”
“Kind of? Wasn’t it enough to keep your mind of things?” Charlie raised an eyebrow, noticing a mischievous glint in your eyes.”
“We might have to try it again.” You gave him a fake innocent smile. “Then I am really sure I feel better.”
“Really, Y/N?” He smirked, shaking his head in amusement.
“What can I say? I liked that kiss.”
Charlie put on a thinking face. “Maybe we can, but perhaps it would be better to head back to school. We are going to be dead in the morning for sure.”
  “Hm, it is really late…. Luckily we start with a History of Magic Class first, so we can get some more sleep there.” You said with a grin. “We can also try to stay awake for the rest of the night. We could enjoy being in the beautiful moonlight some more.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so. Let’s head back, Y/N. Before we actually do things we regret.”
“It was worth a shot.” You shrugged before you walked with Charlie to Hogwarts again.
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yourdeepestfathoms · 5 years ago
Note
👀 i see you like Angelica. how about this for a prompt: someone (probably a student or one of Jacob’s “friends”) tries to poison Jacob at dinner for knowing too much about the Vaults but slips up and poisons Angelica’s drink instead? it’s a little random, but I love what you’ve done with her character and want to see more, so this is what I came up with
anon I’m fucking sobbing this is the kind of submissions I dream of getting sent in oh my god I’m so in love with this idea thank you so much I would DIE for you
Jacob was ranting the moment he sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He opened up his current journal (he fills MANY- this was probably the third this school year) and flipped to the page he seemed to have just filled out.
“So,” He started with natural enthusiasm about these kind of things, “I’ve got some new information on the Cursed Vaults.”
Angelica raised an eyebrow at him in intrigue, nodding her head as a way of telling him to go on, since her mouth was full.
“We’re in this a lot deeper than I had been expecting, Angie. Way deep. It’s-it’s incredible- the things I’ve discovered recently.” Jacob said, tripping over his words due to his excitement.
“So that’s why you haven’t been to most classes for the past few days,” Angelica said after she swallowed. “Well? Out with it! Spill! I wanna know what you found.”
Jacob smiled.
“Since you asked...”
While he was explaining, Angelica began to feel very lightheaded. She blinked multiple times because a blizzard was suddenly raging across her line of sight. She tried to rub her eyes, but it didn’t help. In fact, it seemed to make her weird case of vertigo worse. Jacob was too invested in his findings to notice how pale she had gotten in just a few moments.
“Hey guys.”
Angelcia reared her dropping head up at the sound of her best friend’s voice. She smiled at him, and he grinned back, but then frowned for some reason.
“Woah, Angel, are you alright?”
Angelica furrowed her eyebrows at him. Was her dizziness that noticeable?
“What are you talking about?” She asked.
“Your eyes...” Chester answered. He extended a hand to touch, but pulled back and sat down beside her. “Your pupils, I mean. They’re, like, really big.”
Angelica blinked a few times, in confusion and to try and clear the snowstorm again.
“Oh. Well, that’s weird. I feel fine, though.”
A little wooziness wasn’t classified as “not fine” in her book, so she was technically telling the truth. Chester would still probably fret over her if she told him, which is why she didn’t, even if her condition was serious.
“Alright...” Chester slowly and then looked at Jacob, “Talking about the Cursed Vaults again? Sorry if I interrupted. You can continue now.”
Jacob nodded.
“No worries! You can hear how amazing this is, too! Seriously, it’s jaw-dropping! Like, I had no idea there were so many Cursed Vaults, but the clues I found said-“ He stops when Angelica started coughing. He looks at her with a confused-concerned look. “Are you alright?”
Angelica waved a hand and then nodded. She cleared her throat.
“Fine,” She said, swallowing thickly, “Just swallowed wrong. Continue!”
“Alright! Anyway, I think there’s one in the library. I’m not sure which one just yet, but I’m sure it’s there and we gotta find it. Could you imagine if we did? We’d show everyone who ever laughed at this! It would be incredi-“
Angelica is coughing again. But it isn’t light or normal, it was...painful. It sounded painful. It was also loud, and other students and professors at their own table turned to look in curiousity.
The Gryffindor raised a hand to try and brush them off, but she couldn’t speak. When she did, a rush of blood, drool, and foam comes from from her mouth. One of Angelica’s now blood-splattered hands smeared against the tabletop as she collapsed to the ground, spasming violently.
The Great Hall erupts in pandemonium.
Chester moves as fast as light. He’s the first to get to Angelica, lifting her head and cradling it above the hard floor. Her jaw is dyed red with blood and she’s still frothing at the lips. Her chest is contracting wildly, desperate for air that she’s just barley able to get into her stinging lungs.
Most students leap away, but Jacob, Felix, and Jane (who were heading over to sit down when this all went down) rushed over. Many professors went to the fallen Gryffindor’s aid as well.
“What the hell is going on?!” Felix exclaimed.
“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Chester replies, his eyes as wide as Angelica’s pupils.
“Poison?” Jacob suddenly said and many heads snap towards him.
“Poison?” Jane echoes.
“Maybe? Who knows!”
Felix starts poking through the food on Angelica’s plate. He runs a nervous hand through his hair.
“Ah, bloody hell, is this coconut? She’s allergic to that, isn’t she?”
“I didn’t have any of that in my food.” Jane put in.
“And I don’t think an allergic reaction would do that,” Jacob motions for the bloody mess being expelled from Angelica’s mouth.
“It can if it’s bad.” Chester said.
Angelica makes a strangled cry of pain, shuddering in Chester’s arms. Her hands raise and she starts to scratch and claw desperately at her throat, like she was trying to open up an airway so she could breathe. Chester sets her head in his lap so he could grab her wrists.
“Don’t do that, Angel,” He chided softly, then raises his head to address everyone gawking, “She has medicine and she needs it now. Someone, I don’t care who, go get it or I swear to Merlin I will kill all of you for being so useless.”
Jacob was the one to jump up and run for the Gryffindor common room. Jane and Felix watched him go before noticing a cloaked student standing near the Great Hall doors. When they noticed them, the student hurried out.
“We’ll be back,” Felix said to Chester before he and Jane both sprinted after the mysterious figure.
Chester didn’t ask about what they were doing because, frankly, he didn’t care. He was too busy trying to soothe his best friend, who was possibly dying in his arms.
Above him, the professors are definitely bouncing theories off of one another, and maybe talking to him, but he ignored them. He didn’t want to dare move Angelica to the Hospital Wing- it could be bad. So, instead, he just decided to keep stroking her hair and telling her she would be okay. She couldn’t respond obviously, but she was still reacting to his words, as her nails curled into his own wrists and her eyes never left his. The fear in those amber irises was similar to that of a wounded lion cub.
“You’re going to be okay, you’re going to be okay,” Chester muttered over and over again, leaning his head down to press his forehead against her own. He closed his eyes and prayed to every celestial being that might be out there for Angelica’s recovery, because he might as well kill himself now if she was just going to die in his arms.
The robed wizard hissed softly, swiftly rounding a corner so they could have a moment to catch their breath. Not only did they poison the wrong kid, but they also didn’t add nearly enough nightshade juice to the drink. That child should have been dead in a pool of her own blood and drool by now, but no. She was still struggling to live through the belladonna concoction they had whipped up. Back to the drawing board, they suppose. They had to work fast; that Jacob knew too much, but so did his little friend. Maybe taking her out, too, wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
Manic footsteps and angry yelling echoed down the hallway and the wizard cursed beneath their breath. While they started to run, they couldn’t help but wonder...what asshole planted coconut shavings in that kid’s food?
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amarauder · 6 years ago
Text
chapter twenty-nine ❥ original
it’s a hate-love thing original version.
james potter x reader.
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"Wasn't it so romantic?" asked Arabella dreamily. "I loved it! The wedding...and then the reception...everything!"
"It was all right for the most part, but I didn't like Frank and Alice snogging for about five minutes when they had to kiss," said Sirius grumpily.
James snorted. "Well, what did you expect, Padfoot? We'd probably see a whole movie of you and Arabella snogging when your wedding comes."
"Yeah, I still don't get why you and Y/n are planning to get married so early. I mean, you guys are pretty young, and next April's going to come by pretty fast. Bella and I are waiting longer before we tie the knot."
Y/n smiled and clutched James' hand, squeezing it tightly. "We want to get together before it's too late, Sirius. I mean, with Voldemort and everything—"
"Oh, don't remind me, n/n. I know all about the stupid git, believe me. I also think that Regulus is a Death Eater."
"You've been saying that for practically forever, Sirius, dear," objurgated Arabella, sighing.
"Well, it's true, isn't it? I only speak the truth, Bella."
Remus snorted, and turned it into a hacking cough, grinning at Sirius. "You wish."
"Excuse me?" Sirius pretended to look extremely offended.
James wrapped an arm around Y/n's waist and held her carefully, as if afraid that she'd break any minute. Just the feeling of touching her created shivers down his spine and he smiled dreamily. Even with a madman after him and his fiancée, he still wanted to be married to Y/n before it all ended. Before their lives ended.
"Hey, James?"
He blinked and stared around. "Who said my name?"
"Are you all right?" inquired Sirius anxiously. "You look all green, mate. D'you feel sick?"
James groaned and rubbed his forehead. "Now that you mention it, I do."
"I think you were affected by Frank and Alice's snog, too," agreed Sirius mournfully.
"Padfoot, shut up. It wasn't the snog...I guess I'm just not feeling well. Maybe it's because of the Order and stuff."
"Oh, the Order." Sirius rolled his eyes. "That's nothing to worry about. I think we can handle Death Eaters, four against one."
"Or not," added Arabella, frowning.
"Don't worry about it," reassured Y/n, smiling. "There's nothing to fret about, Bella. In the meantime, I think we have to go on with the wedding plans."
"Oh! Of course!"
"Now?" questioned James incredulously. "Y/n, the wedding is next year! We have plenty of time to plan all that stuff. We have a meeting with the Order this evening, though."
"It was so nice of you two to let the Order use your home as headquarters," said Jennifer approvingly. "I mean, you'll never get any peace at all. We all have to basically live there, anyway, since those are the Order's rules."
"Yes, it is rather stupid," agreed Y/n, flushing, "I mean, how we all have to practically live together, being in the Order. But I'm not complaining. In fact, I'm rather honored that Dumbledore hand-picked us to be in the Order."
"Why wouldn't he?" said Sirius pompously. "We are intelligent and respectable people, after all."
"Can you believe we're out of Hogwarts already?" commented Violet. "I mean, it seemed like yesterday we were all little first-years, ready to be sorted into our Houses."
"Yeah, time flies by so quickly."
"You know that Ellyn Bedson woman from the Ministry?" interrupted Violet, looking upset.
"Yes, the one who worked in the Department of Mysteries," affirmed Jennifer. "She's all right since she's helping me get started along with Bode, but she's a bit too condescending, so to speak."
"I don't like her," confirmed Violet. "She keeps flirting with Jackson at our breaks."
"Well, you keep flirting with Amos Diggory," said Arabella stiffly.
"I do not! He always hovers around me like a bee...it isn't my fault."
"True," admitted the former.
"Well, you can't stop that," added Y/n. "Just ignore Diggory, and maybe he'll leave you alone. Merlin knows he bothered Bella long enough before you."
"Hell, yeah," muttered Arabella under her breath.
"Why does he have to follow me around anyway?" ranted Violet furiously. "I mean, I'm no pageant queen, and I definitely don't have the kind of personality that Amos looks for in girls. So why me?"
"Maybe it was because of that comeback you made to him at Hogwarts," said James thoughtfully. "After all, one can never forget something so brilliant and embarrassing as that."
Violet blushed. "Oh, C'mon, it wasn't that great."
"It was too! Merlin, I wish I could've taken a picture of Diggory's face when you said that to him. It was bloody amazing! You should be like that more often, Vi."
"Hear, hear," intoned Jennifer enthusiastically. She was always one to call for a change of character in Violet.
"So, n/n, you've already got some of your wedding planned, right?" asked Arabella.
"Well...no," admitted Y/n, flushing. "We haven't had the time to think about it, actually, ever since the proposal."
"Oh, the proposal." She looked at Sirius dreamily. "It was so romantic. How did you and James manage to pull it off?"
James and Sirius both grinned, and winked at each other, and then at their respective fiancées.
"Simple, girls," said Sirius roguishly. "Well, at least, it was simple for me, but for others"—he looked at James meaningfully—"it took some practice."
Y/n laughed. "Don't tell me you were scared, James."
"Like hell," agreed James shamelessly. "Is it that surprising?"
"The almighty James Potter, scared? Merlin, the world may end any moment now. C'mon, you've bullied people nearly all your years at Hogwarts, and you were scared of asking one simple question?" She shook her head at him.
"Aww...give a guy a break here, Y/n. It isn't my fault that I get nervous doing these kinds of things."
"Which brings me to my next point. You never get nervous, James."
"I'm still human," retorted James indignantly. "Why do you make me sound like I'm some sort of god?"
"You are," Y/n pointed out. "Or, at least you were to the girls at Hogwarts. Were they upset when you proposed!"
"Furious," added Sirius, laughing. "They looked like they were about to kill you, Y/n. They were upset enough that James fell in love with you, and eventually got you, but to have your love official by marriage? Their worst nightmare, I say."
"You're not too off either, Padfoot," said Remus thoughtfully. "After all, the girls were always after you whenever you had some fight with Arabella, and didn't makeup soon enough."
"True, that I am a lady's man."
"What an egotist," mumbled Arabella, rolling her eyes. "I'm about to marry a man who only thinks for himself. At least your man deflated his head when you gave him a tough time, Y/n."
"You think he's deflated enough, Bells? I don't think so."
"You girls always undermine us fellows," said James, pouting. "We're good to you guys; why complain? At least we don't strut like Diggory or Mackenzie."
Sirius involuntarily shuddered at the latter name.
Y/n giggled and snuggled closer to her fiancé. They had reached the headquarters of the Order and now entered it. Marlene McKinnon, who had a whole family of kids at the Order, but was looking to get a place of her own, greeted them. Alice and Frank were playing chess near the fireplace, and Mad-Eye Moody was glaring at them suspiciously through his eyes. James had always thought that there was something creepy about them, though they were normal ones like any other human possessed.
"Potter, L/n, Dean, Black, Walker, Lupin," greeted Mad-Eye gruffly one by one, as he inclined his head slightly toward them.
"Hello, Mr. Moody," said Y/n softly. She both feared and admired the famous Auror.
"Alastor, girl, call me by my name. There shouldn't be any formalities in the Order. We're all a family."
Sirius grinned. "Well, that's good, because you guys can all be my surrogate one."
"Always the saucy one, aren't you, Black?" growled Moody. "Well, you're going to find a better family in the Order than your own, so feel right at home. However, you do know that the Order is very dangerous and that you're giving your life to this organization."
"Certainly, sir," said James loudly. "We want to help you fight Voldemort any way we can."
Moody twitched at the name. "Potter, will you stop using his name, damn it!"
James looked rather alarmed. "But the fear of his name—"
"—increases your fear of himself. Yes, I know, Dumbledore has told me that plenty of times. Seems as though you admire Dumbledore so much, Potter, that you have decided to start quoting him to your elders, eh?"
"I meant no disrespect, sir."
"Yeah, sure you didn't. L/n, you got the papers ready?"
"Right here, sir." Y/n produced a thick wad of paper from the paper folder that she was carrying. "Got the plans to his hideout and everything."
"Excellent, L/n. You've proved useful to us. Are you sure this is his real hideout, and not a bluff to throw us off? After all, You-Know-Who has spies on his side as well."
"I'm not sure of the true veracity of these blueprints, but I'm pretty sure they're partially real."
"You trust the spies who got this?"
"With all my heart."
"Good, good. I shall present this to Dumbledore himself, since this is very important information, and highly top secret. Where has Pettigrew and Bradley gone to?"
"Jackson's still at work," piped up Violet. "He hasn't enough time to do anything these days. And Peter's at a job interview."
"Pettigrew is absolutely useless," growled Moody. "The boy can hardly write his own name properly. Don't know what Dumbledore was thinking, having him in the Order. Bradley, though, he's very valuable to us. Don't want to lose him."
"Of course not," she affirmed readily.
"You wouldn't," Arabella pointed out, "because he's your boyfriend."
Violet turned red and rolled her eyes.
"Sir, is there any news of the latest attacks?" queried James worriedly. "Voldemort hasn't made a single attack for nearly a month. That's usually not like him. He causes chaos wherever he goes."
"Shrewd thinking, Potter. I was pondering on it myself. I think that You-Know-Who has something planned that's very large and will cost lives. If only we can infiltrate his lines and know what it is."
"You make it sound like this is a war," commented Sirius, laughing.
"This is no joking matter, Black. We are at war, boy, and would you stop laughing? This is serious, Black, and I don't find anything funny about it. People are getting killed, and you're laughing? Live up to your name, boy!"
"My n—oh!" Sirius laughed harder. "Ha, ha, be serious...live up to your name...ha, ha!"
"Padfoot, shut it," snapped James, rubbing his forehead ferociously. "Can't you be serious for once and stop making a joke out of everything? We are at war, like Mr.—Alastor said, and we need everyone's cooperation."
"Sorry." The dark-haired boy looked down at his feet. "I didn't mean it."
"Where's Longbottom at? Longbottom!" barked Moody.
"Yes?" came the voices of Frank and Alice.
The Auror groaned. "This is why I never like to have married couples mingle with us elders. They always have to share the same last name. Ah, I'll just call Alice 'Hart' instead, to make things easier. Longbottom, Frank!"
"Yes, Alastor?"
"Done with that paperwork?"
Frank closed his eyes and sighed. "Nearly finished. Just got a few more sentences, and it'll be ready."
"We've got these recruits for the Order," said Moody gruffly. "Kingsley Shacklebolt...he's going to be a sixth year this September...Emmeline Vance..."
"Emmeline?" interrupted Y/n, her eyes widening. "The fifth year, soon-to-be-sixth-year, Emmeline?"
"Correct, L/n."
"But she's—" She struggled for the words. "A bit ditzy, so to speak."
"Is she? Well, she is from a very respectable family, and from what I've heard, she's one of the top choices for Head Girl. Also, the teachers have all praised her well for her abilities, except for Hurst, the idiot."
James snorted loudly at the last comment, and Y/n sent him a glare, causing him to cough and snigger more quietly.
"Can you consider my cousin?" asked Sirius eagerly.
"Who's your cousin, Black?"
"Nymphadora Tonks, sir. She's only about four years old, but she's a Metamorphmagus."
"Is that so? Well, then, I'll have to mention that to Dumbledore next time. Metamorphmagi are extremely rare, and they would certainly be useful to the Order. Good thinking, Black."
Sirius grinned and gave a mock salute. "Thank you, Alastor."
"Lupin! Full moon coming up?"
Remus looked rather alarmed at being spoken to. "Er—in a couple of weeks, sir."
"I'm assuming you will not hurt any of our members?"
"No promises sir, but I will try."
"Good." And so the dull afternoon continued, with Moody questioning and deprecating them about Order business.
Jennifer sobbed wildly, wiping her eyes. Remus had just broken up with her. It wouldn't have mattered to her as much if he had given her a substantial reason, but he hadn't said anything coherent that answered her question about why he broke up with her. Y/n, Arabella, and Violet were trying to comfort her.
"Look, Jen, I think the boys might know something about this. Let's go ask them."
And so they went to the room that James and Sirius shared, and knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" came Sirius' voice.
"It's us, you stupid prat," called Arabella impatiently. "Let us in!"
"Gee, no need to yell, Bellsies."
Sirius opened the door, and ushered them inside.
"Do you know why Remus broke up with Jennifer?"
"He's scared," said James quietly. "He's afraid that if they stay together, and get married, Jennifer won't be happy because of his—condition."
"You mean you knew, and never told us?" demanded Y/n furiously. "James Potter, I would have expected better of you!"
"Remus told me not to tell!" exclaimed James wildly. "It wasn't my fault...and I wasn't sure if he was actually going to do it or not. Trust me, he still loves Jennifer, but thinks it's the best for her."
"The best for me?" Jennifer sniffed again. "Why the hell would he think that? He knows I love him, and that I would never leave him. We didn't have to get married, but why did he have to break up with me?"
"I never knew Remus was such an idiot," mumbled Arabella. "How could he do such a thing?"
"Now what?" muttered Sirius to his best friend.
James shrugged. "Jen, Remus wanted me to tell you that you should move on. You know, find another guy who would always be there for you."
"You mean Remus would never be there for me?"
"It's because of his transformations. He thinks that it would be a burden for you to have him disappear every month and get all cranky when the full moon approaches. He wants you to have a guy who can always be there for you, and will always treat you right."
"I love him," said Jennifer firmly, "and I'll never move on and find a new guy, because he'll always be in my heart, no matter what."
James shook his head. "Moony made a bad choice, Padfoot."
Sirius snorted. "You think? Our dear friend needs to sort out his priorities. Maybe he should ask Jennifer out again, and they should start all over."
"What seems to be the problem here?"
The six of them all turned around, alarmed, to see Professor Albus Dumbledore himself standing there before them, his blue eyes twinkling as usual.
"Professor!" James nearly shouted, and grinned innocently. "We were—er—"
"Laughing at Sirius' joke," continued Violet hastily. "We hope we didn't miss any Order meetings, sir."
"Not at all, Ms. Walker. In fact, I was going to find you all and tell you to enjoy yourselves. Don't get too caught up in the Order business here. You, young people, need to enjoy yourselves while you can before it's too late. Mr. Potter, you are not even twenty yet, and you're working harder than Alastor these days."
"I am?" James looked at his old headmaster in astonishment. "I don't think I'm working too hard; I mean, we're just looking over Voldemort's possible hideouts and his Death Eaters. Of course, there's always the wedding, but we can put that aside for now if it helps."
"No, no, James, I want you to go on with your wedding plans," said Dumbledore earnestly. "You and Y/n shall be married, and I will not be the one to stop you two from being in love."
"Of course we shall," agreed Y/n, a bit startled at the headmaster using her given name instead of her surname.
"Excellent." Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Now, I must be off to assist Alastor in his findings—I will see you at our meeting tonight."
"Yes, Professor."
"Do call me Albus. After all, I'm not your headmaster any longer." He winked and Disapparated from the spot.
"That was certainly interesting," commented Sirius.
Jennifer laughed, and for one second, she had forgotten all about her break-up with Remus and chatted along with the rest of the group. After all, there were other things that would break her heart even more, and the Order needed her. She didn't have time to wallow in self-pity because her long-time boyfriend broke up with her for a trivial reason.
Y/n smiled at her friend. She was angry at Remus for breaking off his relationship with Jennifer but seeing her laugh again made her anger lessen slightly. Laughter was something that Y/n had a feeling wouldn't exist for very long in their world.
James sighed, and looked up at the ceiling. It was a brand-new house, newly built and freshly painted. The paint was snow-white, and it gave the Order headquarters a sort of elegance to it. His stomach tightened when he thought of the Order of the Phoenix. Shortly after their graduation, Dumbledore had come up to them and asked them to be a part of a group that he had created to defeat Voldemort. They, of course, had agreed at once and signed their oaths to the group. However, James felt a foreboding feeling inside of him that perhaps it was the wrong decision. After all, being in the Order was a dangerous risk. He would be putting his whole family in danger since his parents weren't part of the Order—they were too busy with their full-time Auror lives.
He suddenly grabbed Y/n's hand by impulse and squeezed it tightly. His thoughtful hazel eyes locked with her brilliant, almond-shaped e/c ones, and he nodded slowly. Y/n was one of the main reasons why he even bothered joining the Order. She was his life, and he had wanted her for so long now. James needed to protect her, and the children that they would have together later on.
"What's wrong, James?" whispered Y/n, her eyes widening with surprise.
"I don't want you to get hurt," he said gently and brushed his hand against her cheek. He felt small shivers escape her body.
"What are you talking about?"
"The Order. I'm putting so many of you in danger by joining, especially since Voldemort wants me to join him."
"He's given up on trying to make you do that, James. We're too close to Albus for him to try anything on us again."
"You never know what Voldemort might do, Y/n. Even though I hate him with all my heart, he is a genius. You know what Albus told us about his younger days. He used to be a prefect and Head Boy, and his name was Tom Riddle. Albus said he was one of the most brilliant students Hogwarts has ever seen. However, he had sunk too deeply into the Dark Arts, and now look who he has become."
"There has to be a reason for Voldemort to want to kill so many of us besides the fact that he wants control of the world."
"There is none besides that. He wants to get rid of any magical people who aren't purebloods, and then have the purebloods take over the world with him. If we don't stop him, Y/n, this world is going to be a dark world."
"We'll stop him, James," said Y/n firmly and resolutely, squeezing her fiancé's hand tighter. "We'll stop him, no matter how much it takes."
"Hey, you two lovebirds coming?" Sirius grinned at his best friends. "Arabella and I are going to Hogsmeade for a bit. You coming?"
"What about Jennifer and Violet?"
"We're not going," said Jennifer quickly. "Vi wants to spend the day at Jackson's house, and I want some time alone."
Y/n nodded, understanding. "Sure, Sirius, we'll go."
"Great! Let's go, then."
The two couples Apparated right in front of Honeydukes, where crowds of students were busily chatting or shopping. It felt good to feel some of Hogwarts again through the students, and they were about to go to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer, since it was a chilly day in November, when someone called their name.
"Y/N!"
Y/n turned around to see Emmeline waving energetically, in her little group of friends, the younger girl extremely excited.
"Oh, hello, Emmeline," she greeted cordially.
"Ooh, Hogwarts is so lonely without you guys!" she gushed effusively. "It's so dull without the Marauders spicing it up with some of their pranks."
"So we have made our mark, have we?" Sirius looked very pleased.
"Definitely. The Head Boy's really dull this year, and the Head Girl is even worse. I wish you guys were the Heads again...that was the best year!"
"How's your sixth year?"
"Busy. I'm still a prefect again, but I don't have as many responsibilities as last year. When's your wedding going to be, Y/n?"
Before Y/n could have time to reply, a tall and very good-looking girl who looked to be either a sixth or seventh year gasped and giggled along with her friends, pointing at James and Sirius.
"Look, it's two of the ringleaders of the Marauders!" exclaimed one of them, laughing. "James Potter and Sirius Black!"
"James! Sirius!" The tall girl waved and smiled seductively, walking over to them.
"Er—hello. Do we know you?" James furrowed his brow.
"Oh, I'm Alex Opalisk," she said off-handedly.
James suddenly recognized her as one of the lovesick fan girls who always followed him around at Hogwarts. She was a seventh year Gryffindor, though Merlin only knew how she got into it instead of Hufflepuff.
"Oh, I remember you," he said absent-mindedly. "Er—nice to see you again, Alex."
She gasped, her eyes dancing. "Oh, you remember me, James Potter? How splendid! But you already have a girlfriend." She looked disdainfully over at Y/n.
"My fiancée," he elaborated, nodding. "We're getting married next April."
Alex's face fell, and her hand flew conspicuously to her hair, which was done in a fashionable twist, making it look elegant. "Oh, that's wonderful!" she said in an affected voice.
"Yes, isn't it?" said Y/n, gritting her teeth. "Now, if you excuse us—"
"Don't be rude to the Head Girl, L/n," said Alex coolly.
"You're Head Girl?" said Arabella, who had been quiet most of the time, incredulously. "Who would pick you?"
Sirius coughed, hiding a grin.
"Dumbledore, certainly," said Alex, tossing her head in a huffy manner. "I do think I deserve the position, Figg."
"Oh, I'm honored you know my name, Randall. However, I would watch your mouth. We are respected people, and very close to Dumbledore. So if you step out of line, we will be sure to let Albus know at once."
"I don't think you have that sort of authority over us," said Yvonne Lorencia, one of Alex's friends. "After all, we are technically legal adults, since we have our Apparition licenses and everything."
"Agreed," intoned Alex, nodding virtuously.
"True, but these are dark times, and Albus trusts us with his heart," said Sirius. "He will dismiss any student unworthy of his or her positions as prefect or Head Boy and Girl."
"I don't think you should talk to them that way," put in Emmeline, while her friends agreed readily. "After all, James and Y/n are Aurors-in-training, and Arabella and Sirius work for the Ministry. They are very close to Professor Dumbledore, and you should respect them. They are, after all, more adults than you, Alex."
"Don't talk to me like that, you stupid Mudblood," snapped Alex loftily.
"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore of your crude language, Ms. Randall," said Y/n, raising an eyebrow.
"It's just 'Mudblood'; I don't see the big deal."
"Certainly you might not, but it is using bad language."
"You're just saying that 'cause you're a Mudblood, too."
James flew up in rage. "Did you call my girl a—a—you-know-what, Randall?" he roared, causing several of the student body to stare.
"What, the great James Potter not able to say a word like 'Mudblood'?"
Regulus and his friends, who happened to be standing nearby, laughed when hearing this. "Go, Alex!" Regulus cried, clapping. "Go out with me?"
Alex smiled, revealing little gleaming white teeth. "Oh, but Regulus darling, I'm a Gryffindor and you're a Slytherin. We don't mix well at all."
"Who cares about that. You with me?"
"Of course." She grinned, dreaming of the handsome Black.
Sirius groaned conspicuously. He had hoped everyone would hate Regulus and that he would end up single forever, but for some unknown reason, many of the girls chased after him like fox and hound.
"What's the matter, big brother?" Regulus smirked. "Jealous that I have a date with a pretty girl, and you have a less-prettier fiancée?"
"Ha! Yeah, right, Reg. Actually, I was wondering how you could even get a girl to agree to be your date to Hogsmeade. Amazing, really, how someone like you can attract girls at all."
James bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. He always did enjoy the bickers between his best friend and the little brother of the latter; they were always quite amusing and entertaining to watch.
Regulus rolled his eyes. "Nice comeback, Sirius, really. However, I really would not be talking. You have some dirt for a girlfriend there yourself."
"That's it! I've had more than enough patience for you than you really deserve, Regulus, but you've gone way too far this time. Arabella is not dirt, and she is certainly better than the girls that you go out with. So I'd watch your tongue next time, Regulus, or there will be trouble. C'mon guys, let's get out of here and get a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. You come too, Emmeline, and bring your friends along as well."
"Oh, sorry, Sirius, I can't," apologized Emmeline, looking disappointed. "I have to get back to Hogwarts soon and start on my homework. We have so much this year!"
"That's too bad," said Y/n sympathetically, as she and Arabella took turns hugging the young girl. "Hopefully we'll see you again."
"Yes, hopefully. You will visit, won't you?" Emmeline looked eagerly at the adults.
"Of course," piped up Arabella, smiling.
"Hey, girls, we know good-byes are painful, but I really am cold," said James through chattering teeth.
"Yes, yes. Well, bye, Emmeline!"
They entered the Three Broomsticks and sat at the nearest empty table. Madam Rosmerta gasped when she saw the foursome and clasped her hands eagerly.
"Why, if it isn't the infamous James Potter and Sirius Black!" She smiled. "And who are you lovely young ladies?"
"You remember Y/n L/n and Arabella Figg, don't you, Madam Rosmerta?" James gave a casual wave to the girls. "They're our fiancées."
"Fiancées?" Madam Rosmerta raised an eyebrow. "You've actually settled down with girls? I don't believe it! I think that you are fooling me here, boys and that these poor girls are mere flings."
Arabella laughed. "Oh, no, Madam Rosmerta, we're their girlfriends, unfortunately, of course. But we, Y/n and I, fell for their charm like every other girl at Hogwarts eventually, though they did have a tough time getting to us." She winked at Sirius.
"Stop it, Bella." Sirius nodded in assent to his girlfriend's statement.
"Why, if that doesn't beat it all—James Potter and Sirius Black coming back to my shop with girls and a steady relationship. Things sure have changed."
"Surely we weren't that bad, my dear Rosmerta," said James smoothly. "After all, Sirius has been with Arabella since first year, miraculously. Of course, they've had their good and bad moments—"
"A complete understatement," interrupted Y/n, rolling her eyes.
"—but they still make a good couple anyway," he finished, raising an eyebrow at his fiancée questioningly. Y/n stuck out her tongue in response.
"How did you manage to pull off a proposal without ruining it?" Madam Rosmerta looked truly amazed at the changes James and Sirius had gone through.
"Oh, it took some time, at least for James, but we pulled it off eventually," replied Sirius.
"You two have changed so much since I last saw you here."
"Well, with us being adults and Voldemort on the rise, we needed to grow up, I suppose."
The pub had gone completely silent after Sirius' remark. Whispers were exchanged among the magic folk, and they looked fearfully at Sirius, and then around the pub as if waiting for Voldemort to appear all of a sudden into the shop. Madam Rosmerta had dropped the large glass of butterbeer that she was about to hand over to a tottering old woman, and the liquid spilled over her lavish magenta robes.
"You said You-Know-Who's name!" exclaimed one young wizard, not much older than them, in barely a whisper.
"Yeah, Voldemort," said Sirius casually, shrugging. The wizard gave another shudder. "So what? It's just a name."
"Yes, but he might hear you and come any second."
"Don't give me that crap, Mr.—what's your name?"
"Jason Wood...hey! I know you from somewhere."
"Wood?" Sirius looked at James, and then back at the wizard in surprise. "Jason Wood, ex-captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team?"
"Yes, that's me, and you're—by golly! Cassia, look." He nudged the petite, pretty little woman next to him. "It's Potter and Black, our old teammates."
The small brunette looked startled and then began to smile, her creamy face lighting up with delight.
"James Potter and Sirius Black. Well, well, we haven't seen you for quite a while yet. And what's this? Finally snagged Y/n L/n, now, have you, Potter?"
James nodded and brought Y/n closer to him. "You bet, Wood. You and Cassia married?"
"Nah. I've yet to propose to her, eh? No, we're still boyfriend and girlfriend, though."
"It's great," said Cassia in a bit of a strained voice. "We don't need to be married...staying like this is good enough for me."
Y/n nodded politely. "We're engaged. So are Sirius and Arabella."
Wood set down his butterbeer with a clink. "Well, how about that? I would have never expected Potter and Black to be almost-married men. Congratulations."
James, Sirius, and Wood then started to discuss Quidditch, while the three girls discussed their wedding plans.
"You must come to mine, Cassia," said Y/n eagerly. "I'll have you as one of my bridesmaids."
"I couldn't," said Cassia, shaking her head, laughing. "I'm not worthy of such a thing, Y/n. Please, don't invite me. I'll only burst into a pathetic flood of tears anyway when the actual wedding takes place."
"What does that matter? Bella will probably cry, too."
"I second to that," intoned Arabella emphatically.
"Y/n, don't you understand? I can't!"
"Why not?"
"I think"—she cast a furtive glance to the men—"that we should discuss this in the bathroom. Guys, we have to—er—fix our make-up in the bathroom. We'll be back in a jiffy, all right?"
"Yeah, sure." Wood waved an impatient arm around, too absorbed in James' rich-detailed account of the last Quidditch game between England and Czechoslovakia.
Cassia dragged the other two younger women to the bathroom, shut the door, and burst into tears. Y/n and Arabella exchanged looks of perplexity but did not say anything at first.
"Oh, Y/n, Bella! I can't stand this any longer. I want to marry Jason, but he just won't propose. He's too in love with Quidditch to care about marriage with me and says that he's perfectly content with just having a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship instead of an intimate marriage. I really want us to get married and have children, and raise them to be respectable and clever. But how can I?"
"How do you know that Jason doesn't want marriage?" asked Y/n.
"Isn't it obvious? He says it all the time."
"Perhaps he says it all the time, but it may not be true, Cass. Men are unpredictable and whimsical like that; they say things they don't mean. I know it's really stupid, but that's how they've always been, and you should know that by now. Maybe Jason thinks that you don't want marriage either, so he's just saying that he doesn't want it to please you and make you happy."
"That's ridiculous. How can he think that? He knows I love him, and couples in love always go the next level by getting married."
"Yeah, but your Quidditch-obsessed boyfriend is different, like James and Sirius. They care too much about us that they're hurting us instead of benefiting us."
"How do you know all this?" Cassia looked at Y/n in awe. "You haven't been in a relationship nearly as long as I, and you know more about this than I do."
Y/n shrugged. "It's probably because I've known James practically all my life, and I've sort of studied and understood him, like a book. It's not that hard once you get used to it. After all, James is the perfect example of an unconventional man, and I understand how his brain works. That's why I know what I'm talking about because Jason is out of the ordinary as well."
Cassia looked thoughtful for a moment and then crushed Y/n in a tight hug. "Thanks, Y/n. You're the greatest. But what should I do now?"
"Talk to him, of course," put in Arabella sensibly. "That's the only way you'll get things out of men...you got to be the first ones to bring up the subject. Don't think they'll be the first ones to bring it, because they definitely won't be. They're slow that way."
"And I'm guessing you know this because of Sirius."
"'Course. With Sirius as a fiancé, well, life gets a little more interesting than usual, huh?"
Cassia laughed and dried her remaining tears. "Thanks, the both of you. You two have really helped. I'll talk to Jay tonight."
"You'd better, and tell us what he says about it."
"Definitely."
When the three girls came out, the guys were already waiting for them by the entrance, still discussing Quidditch.
"You guys still at that stupid game?" Cassia rolled her eyes.
"You were the Beater at Hogwarts with me, and now you don't care about Quidditch?" Sirius asked in mock-horror. "Dear Merlin, what's happened?"
"Maybe it's the whole being an adult thing that's changed me." She shrugged. "Ready, Jay? Oh, and when we get back to our flat, I have to talk to you about something."
"Sure." Wood shrugged and they both Disapparated.
"You girls ready?" James looked questioningly at them.
"Yeah. Just give us a second."
Arabella turned to her best friend and smiled. "Think we have enough experience about life, n/n?"
"Perhaps not all of it, but we sure got enough to brighten hearts around us. Merlin knows we need more happy souls around here these days. There are barely any of them at all."
And what Y/n said was absolutely true, especially since their world would soon turn colder.
"There's been a Hogsmeade attack."
Those words kept ringing in everyone's minds as they prepared to Apparate to Hogsmeade, where many students were attacked. There were many casualties and a few deaths.
Y/n clutched James' hand all the way there, and even when they arrived at the scene of the crime. Her heart turned cold when she thought of all her younger friends, especially Emmeline, and the chances of them being either injured or dead.
"James, I'm so scared," she whispered, hugging his arm.
"I know, Y/n." James kissed her passionately. "Don't worry. I'm sure it's going to be fine."
"It won't be," said Y/n quietly, so that even he couldn't hear. "Nothing's been fine for a long time."
When they arrived at the scene, Y/n involuntarily shivered. It was terrible. Shops and places were all in ruin, broken into and destroyed by Death Eaters no doubt, and it was completely chaotic, with Healers and teachers scurrying about in a disorderly fashion. There were screams and groans coming from everywhere, and upon the ground, there were dead corpses. The worst of it was, they weren't all completely discomposed to broken bones and flagged skin. No, instead they were just dead bodies of students, still quite healthy-looking, and each student lying eagle-spread on the ground had an expression of terror and astonishment upon their faces. It was sickening, and the eight of them cringed at the sight.
"That's perfectly horrible," whispered Peter, wiping his eyes from the stinging cold.
"Awful," acceded Sirius, his arm tightening around Arabella.
"C'mon, no use standing here," said Moody gruffly, as he tottered near to where Professor Dumbledore was, talking gravely to Professors McGonagall and Flitwick. "May as well be of some use, hey?"
"You're right, Alastor," said Jennifer firmly. "Let's see what Albus and Minerva have to say about all this."
They approached the two professors, who looked over at the eight adults and nodded in greeting.
"Hello, Misses L/n, Figg, Dean, and Walker. Messrs. Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew, hello to you, too."
"Professor, is it bad?" inquired Y/n anxiously.
"It may not be as bad as you imagined, Ms. L/n, but yes, it is considered bad. Not as bad as some of the attacks, but I think you may want to see some of the victims."
Professor McGonagall led Y/n and the others to where the injured or dead were, and Y/n gasped. There were many students that she didn't recognize, who were probably much younger than she, but there were two that she knew within a second. One, who lay groaning, was Kenneth Hughes, who had been Emmeline's boyfriend. Another was Laura Smith, but instead of groaning, she lay still. Too still. To add to it, she didn't move or budge at all.
"Professor," gasped Violet from Y/n's left side. "Laura isn't—she isn't—"
"I'm afraid so, Ms. Walker. Ms. Smith is indeed dead."
"That can't be," said Y/n dully. "No...Laura, she can't be dead!"
Suddenly, the truth of the statement struck her. Sweet Laura, who had been so shy at first, but then opened up to Y/n, was dead, and never to come back to life again. The Dark Side had killed her: the Death Eaters and Voldemort. Y/n had promised to visit Laura, but she hadn't seen her since graduation. She wouldn't know if Laura had passed her O.W.L.s, or if she had gotten a boyfriend! No, she would never know these things, because Laura was dead. She had been killed in the attack.
"Y/n?" James whispered. "Are you all right?"
Y/n nodded slowly, burying her head in his shoulder. "Oh, James, it's horrible! Laura dead and Kenneth hurt, as well as many other children who are so small. Look at that little girl over there. She looks to be about a first or second year, and she's dead. James, will our world ever be the same?"
"I don't think so, Y/n, but we'll try our best to pull together, and live through this. If we don't, then we know that the future generations will destroy Voldemort forever, and destroy all evil, if that's ever possible. For now, let's just concentrate on our present, instead of the future. I don't know when this will ever end, but whatever happens, I'll stick with you forever and never leave you. I love you, Y/n."
Tears sprang to her eyes, as she hugged him. "I love you, too."
James' eyes went over to the outcome of the attack, and suddenly his hand brushed against his eyes. No, he would stay strong like a man, and not cry. He had gotten the conception that only girls cried, and he would stick with that thought in mind. No, he would never cry, but somehow, the tears came out, and he wasn't ashamed of them. The mere feeling of Y/n's small body upon his gave him pleasure and hope for the future.
He understood why Y/n felt so passionate about the attack. He knew and liked Laura very well, and of course, he and Kenneth were good friends. He started at the thought of his young friend dying from his injuries. No, James wouldn't think of these things. It wouldn't happen...at least, that's what he hoped.
The world was turning upside down, to put it eloquently, and James knew it. However, he meant what he said to Y/n, and that he would always love her and stick with her. After all, he couldn't just leave her after two years of chasing after the h/c, now, could he?
Y/n looked over at her fiancé and saw him deep in thought. She smiled inwardly at having been part of the reason James was so mature and serious now and kissed him lightly. He was so handsome, standing there with his long arms around her small waist. His naturally untidy black hair was ruffled as usual, and his hazel eyes were mixed with a look of concentration and gravity. Y/n loved his eyes more than anything else about him did. Those eyes resembled everything that Y/n loved about him. He always had a look to them as well. Usually, it was a mischievous glint in those light brown eyes, but his eyes always matched the mood of the situation. Now, his hazel eyes had an appropriate seriousness to it.
James noticed Y/n looking at him, and grinned. It was the largest and first grin that he did in days, and it considerably brightened the situation slightly, since everyone else smiled slightly, seeing him do the same. Perhaps they would have a better future where there was no Voldemort, but for now, they were in the present and would have to deal with it, no matter what. However, James was optimistic, and knew, one day, Voldemort and evil itself would be defeated.
tags; @theredheadedwinchester
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aion-rsa · 3 years ago
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Sadly, spooky season is over. That pumpkin you carved a few nights ago? It’s starting to look scary for all the wrong reasons as it decays. Those ghost decorations? Maybe you can let them ride for a few weeks more, but turkey season is around the corner if you’re in the U.S., and the neighbors are going to start talking. Yep, we always regret seeing October end, but that doesn’t mean we have to be blue about it!
Indeed, Netflix alone has waited until November to put out some of its best spooky content, from one of the better Dracula movies ever made to the hands down best Addams Family picture. Even more recent cult classics like It Follows decided to wait for the Day of the Dead to make their big entrance. And if you don’t like horror, fret not. There’s plenty of dramatic content and even some comedic gems coming to Netflix right now!
Addams Family Values (1993)
November 1
Sometimes the sequel is just better. It’s rare but in the case of Addams Family Values, director Barry Sonnenfeld and company surpassed what they did the first-time by leaning even more heavily into the deadpan absurdism of their comedy and caring less if you “sympathized” with their characters. In fact, the stranger the Addams’ are, the more we love them!
And none get to shine better in this movie than Christina Ricci’s Wednesday Addams. Now allowed a whole subplot to herself where she’s trapped at a summer camp, her verbal evisceration of the popular kids and her Disneyfied surroundings is brutally funny. It’s become the definitive interpretation of the character and likely why Tim Burton is now executive producing a TV series about Wednesday all-grown up—at Netflix, of course.
Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992)
November 1
When Francis Ford Coppola adapted Bram Stoker’s iconic 1897 novel, he hoped to offer a definitive version which would finally do justice to this lurid tale of vampires and Victorian virtue. Purists will fairly tell you he failed in that regard, but if you look beyond the title of the picture, everything else came up roses for Coppola’s decadent, lascivious, and absolutely weird vampire classic.
Still, perhaps the most fun Dracula movie ever made—and definitely the thirstiest—Bram Stoker’s Dracula luxuriates in Eiko Ishioka’s Oscar winning costumes and its hypnotic use of centuries-old magic tricks and optical illusions in lieu of modern special effects—a feat which we discussed at length with visual effects director Roman Coppola here. Most of the cast is also so delightfully over-the-top, including an operatic Gary Oldman and some hammy work by Anthony Hopkins and Winona Ryder, that it even makes up for Keanu Reeves’ dubious miscasting as a Victorian law clerk. It’s nuts in the best way.
First Knight
November 1
Arthurian legend is one of the most adapted stories in pop culture; First Knight, a 1995 retelling of Lancelot’s ill-fated romance with Lady Guinevere, is decidedly not the best of those adaptations. (Everyone knows that honor goes to TV’s Merlin.) But if you like the Camelot subgenre, and you haven’t seen this too-serious-for-its-own-good reimagining starring Sean Connery as Arthur, Richard Gere as Lancelot, and Julia Ormond as Guinevere, then you’re missing out.
Gere’s Lancelot is notoriously miscast and no one seems to have a problem with Connery using his natural Scottish accent, but there’s some fun in the results and, after a few decades of other big-screen Arthurian failures that lean so far into machismo that Guinevere sometimes doesn’t even appear, this thoroughly ‘90s adventure is a breath of fresh air. 
It Follows (2014)
November 1
This breakout horror from David Robert Mitchell remains one of the scariest films of the 21st century so far. Inspired by a dream Mitchell had about being relentlessly pursued by an unknown entity, It Follows tells the story of… well… essentially a sexually transmitted ghost. Sleep with someone who is being haunted and you will be followed, unless you can pass on the curse to someone else. But if it catches and kills its next victim—well, you’re back in the frame.
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It Follows makes excellent use of crowded open spaces—you have no idea what face this shapeshifting creature will be wearing, so literally anyone could be your worst nightmare coming to get you. Original, intelligent and deeply, deeply chilling. 
Moneyball (2011)
November 1
There are baseball movies and baseball movies. But outside of Bull Durham’s requiem for an also-ran, there is likely no movie about America’s game that is more hard-nosed and honest than Bennett Miller’s Moneyball. Based on the true story of Oakland Athletics general manager Billy Beane (Brad Pitt) and his attempt to bring baseball into the 21st century by turning it into a game of statistics and analysis instead of gut instincts and pure talent, the film studies the modernization of the sport.
Still, it cannot help but get swept up in sentimentality as Pitt’s Beane becomes teary-eyed thinking about his team’s big wins or final loss, or equating it to the innocence of his daughter’s childhood. Ah, baseball. 
The Nightingale (2018)
November 1
Jennifer Kent’s follow up to The Babadook couldn’t be more of a different beast. Equally strong as the director’s singular vision and also a slow bone chiller debut, The Babadook was all about shadows and secrets. By contrast, The Nightingale is downright and overtly brutal. Following a young convict woman in colonial ​​Van Diemen’s Land (now Tasmania) wanting vengeance on a soldier (Sam Clafin) who has subjected her and her family to an unspeakable ordeal, she seeks help from an aborginal tracker to find him and his men. This is an angry, beautiful, ferocious film, full of extreme violence and with no apologies. Not a horror but horrific nonetheless, it’s a great piece of art and history which should come with extreme trigger warnings particularly for sexual violence and an early scene you can’t unwatch. Tough stuff.
A River Runs Through It
November 1
Listen, we don’t get a lot of movies set in Montana, and this 1992 film starring Craig Sheffer and a young Brad Pitt as brothers growing up in early 20th century Missoula is so damn excited to be set in Montana. Adapted from a semi-autobiographical memoir of the same name, A River Runs Through It manages to be both uber nostalgic and extremely tragic at the same time.
The meandering film, which was Robert Redford’s third feature as a director, won the Best Cinematography award at the Academy Awards and for good reason. The movie used actual locations in the Mountain West region of the U.S. (in Montana and Wyoming specifically) to tell the understated story of the Maclean brothers, and it’s worth a watch for the gorgeous scenery alone. Also for the fly-fishing scenes. But, seriously, it’s a bit of a downer, so you should know that going in.
Stripes (1981)
November 1
Before Ghostbusters, there was Stripes. It’s the second collaboration between director Ivan Reitman and star Bill Murray, as well as the first Reitman film that Harold Ramis co-wrote. More strikingly, it stars Ramis and Murray as a pair of lazy, smug, and totally out-of-shape schmucks who join the U.S. Army on a lark.
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America was in a weird place after the end of the Vietnam War, and in a moment where it was okay to laugh at the rigid formalities of military service, not least of all because Stripes is set in a world where the military did not recruit the best of the best. In fact, between Ramis, Murray, and John Candy’s Ox, it’s hard to imagine anything more pitiful in uniform. But the breezy ambivalence of the humor is its own kind of unrelenting charm offensive.
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idigihearts1x3 · 7 years ago
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Merry Christmas Jen
“I don’t have to listen to you, you’re not my real father.”
The living room fell into shocked silence as the other three adults frozen to stare in shock at what their seven year old daughter had said. Merlin just buried his face in his hands.
“Reika Pepper-Kingsmen!” Aoi was the first to recover. “Apologize to your Dad this instant.” “He’s not really my Dad, Papa is.“ Reika folded her arms and huffed.
“He’s as much your parent as I am.” Lewis knew he had a tendency to be overly lenient with his daughter, but there were some lines you didn’t cross. “Now apologize.”
“Why? I didn’t say anything the wasn’t true,” Normally Lewis found her mother’s stubbornness in her endearing, but now was not one of those times.
“Your room. Now.” Aoi’s voice was firm and Lewis’s hair was flickering, a testament to his agitated state. Reika stuck her chin up, but stomped upstairs anyway.
One she was gone Lew’s irritation melted in concern. “Geeze Arty, I’m sorry. I just don’t know what got into her.” Lewis fretted. To his surprise, Auberon just laughed.
“It’s okay, Lew, I’ve been expecting it.”
If anything that made Lewis more worried. His concern must have been evident because Arthur lost his own humor.  “Look Lew, kids try to assert themselves against authority however they can. Not being a biological relative is an easy loophole. One of the kids was going to pull it at some point, if not now then definitely when they hit their teens.” He sighed. “Honestly, I’m just glad Tammy’s at work. She would have taken that much worse.”
Even if she hadn’t been the one the statement was aimed at. She had been forced to give up her dream of parenthood after her death. That somehow a miracle had occurred and she’d gotten pregnant with Merlin had helped. But (and he knew exactly who to blame) Tammy seemed haunted by the idea that she would never be good enough. Reika rejecting her as a parent would have done a lot of damage.
Merlin worried his lip a bit, then crawled into Azul’s lap. “You’re my mommy too, Mom.” He reassured her. “Just like Kaasan. An’ Papa and Dad are my daddies and Pare’s my Pare.”
Azul gave him a tight squeeze. “You know it kiddo. We’re a big weird family, all of us together. Reika knows it to, even if she’s being bull headed.”
“Comes from your side of the family.” Auberon quipped. “I mean, if you and Aoi were any more bullheaded, you’d be minotaurs.” Both Blues shot him a look. Then all three turned to look at Lewis.
“Oh no, I’m not taking sides in this. I’ll stick with being only half ghost, thank you very much.” Lewis put up his hands in surrender.
~
Lewis knocked once on Reika’s door to let her know they were there before he and Aoi went in. He’d been torn as to whether or not to bring Azul and Auberon, but as Aoi pointed out, Reika wasn’t going to listen to either of them until they worked this out and all that would result were more hurt feelings.
Reika huffed as they came in. Her hair couldn’t flame up like her Papa’s, but it could glow slightly and shift hue. And right now it was broadcasting her sulk for the world to see.
“Reika, what was that about?” Aoi tried to keep her voice firm, but not scolding. Scolding wouldn’t get her daughter to talk (Which is not to say it wouldn’t come later).
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” Reika refused to let go of her sulk. “You guys are my parents, not them.”
“Biologically speaking, you’re correct.” Lewis said, ‘earning a WTF are you doing?’ look from Aoi. “But by that metric you have no Aunts and only a single Grandmother and Grandfather.”
That was unexpected enough that Reika broke her sulk enough to look directly at him. “What do you mean? I have three Grammas and Grampas. And six Aunts.”
“Nope,” Lewis popped the ‘P’. “I was adopted.” Both of him were. Past that it was different and Lewis was very careful not to dwell on the differences between his component parts. “I share no biological link to anyone, except you.”
Reika’s jaw worked a few times. “But…But…”
“But you want to keep your Aunties and Grandparents.” Aoi filled in. “What we want to know is why you suddenly don’t want to keep your Dad, Mom, and Pare.”
“It’s not that I don’t want them.” She was at least looking ashamed now. “But everyone else only had one or two parents.  You’re only supposed to have one or two parents.”
Lewis sighed, running his hand through his flaming hair.
Aoi was more on the ball. “Reika, ‘supposed to’ means one of two things. Either something that is better or people demanding things go a certain way and no other. The difference is really important. People are supposed to be kind to one another. That makes the world a friendlier place to live in. You’re supposed to eat nutritious food. It’s better than junk food because it will help you grow and stay healthy. Those are important.”
“People who insist you do things a certain way aren’t concerned with better, just with themselves being right. These people will say it’s wrong for all of us to love each other. Because you shouldn’t love more than one person. Because you shouldn’t love someone of the same gender, Because your Mommy and I and your Daddy and Pare look so similar.” And it was just looks (and their souls), thankfully. They had suspected due to things like Azul’s blonde hair and the fact that Auberon was related to the Kingsmens paternally and Artemis maternally. Testing had proven none of them had a genetic link to the other. “They’d also say your Pare would have to be a boy all of the time. Now think, would your life be better if it was just me and and your Papa, no Pare, Mommy, or Daddy?”
“Or Merlin,” Lewis added. “After all, if Pare and Dad aren’t your parents, then he isn’t your brother.”
If Reika was beginning to look remorseful before, she looked completely stricken now. “I didn’t mean that! Of course he’s my brother!” She faltered “Isn’t he?”
“Yes,” both Aoi and Lewis said in exasperated relief. “There are people who believe your only real family is the people you’re biologically related to. That the bond of blood should trump any other connection.” Lewis explained. “Those people are idiots.”
“Your Papa and I love you with all our hearts,” Aoi was quick to assure, “But the others don’t love you any less. The same way both set of Pepper Grandparents love Lewis as much as your Aunts.”
“There are also people who chose not to love the children they birth. Or worse, see the child as property and not a person.” Both versions of Arthur had dealt with that. From Auberon’s abandonment to the hideous abuse Artemis had undergone before Lance got custody. But neither were tales for such young ears. “What decides whether someone is really your family is if they love you and you love them. That’s is. And I can guarantee everyone who lives here loves you.”
“And you love them back.” Aoi had no doubt about that as she ran her hand through her daughters glowing hair.
Reika nodded. “Am I still in trouble?”
Aoi laughed. “Young Lady, you are grounded, but good. But we still love you, no matter what.”
~
Artemis Kingsmen loved working with her Uncle, but she was equally glad to be home after a long day. Keeping up the ruse to Lance’s other employees that she was still among the living was exhausting. At least they had been pretty respectful of her being genderfluid (It was hard to hide, honestly. Once she had unlocked her special brand of shapeshifting she was a girl when she felt like a girl and he was a boy when he felt like a boy, the only exception being during pregnancy). Still, as far as her coworkers were concerned, she was Lance’s kid, no matter what the gender of the day was. Acceptance was almost intoxicating in it’s own way.
“Welcome home, love.” Azul greeted her with a kiss. “Good day with Lance?”
“Not a bad one,” Artemis allowed, kissing her wife back. “Tiring though. I’m just glad I don’t have any muscles to ache. How’s it been here?”
“Eventful,” Azul rolled her eyes. “Reika decided to act about a bit. Aoi and Lew are dealing with it.”
“Just Aoi and Lewis?” Artemis was a surprised. Usually any parental things were either handled by one of them or all of them depending on the severity.
“It was appropriate.” Azul shrugged, not wanting to get into it. “Forte’s probably announcing your arrival, so Merlin and Auberon should be here soon.” There was no doubt the Geardead was formerly Lewis’s with it’s desire to act as butler and majordomo.
“Pare’s home!” True to Azul’s prediction Merlin came barreling through the halls to hug Artemis. The hug was a normal thing for any parent coming home from work. That Merlin’s hair was sparking and his eyes were slightly glowing wasn’t.
Artemis picked him up and squeezed her child tightly. “What’s wrong Merls?”
“Reika’s a stupidhead.” Merlin explained, burying his head in her shoulder.
Artemis shot Azul a look that clearly said ‘What did she do?’
Before Azul could answer, Auberon made it into the room and gave his wife a hug, trapping Merlin in between them. The child didn’t protest though, even when Azul joined in.
“Good, everyone’s together,” Lewis and Aoi came down the stairs, Reika between them. The violet-haired girl hung her head. “Reika has something she’d like to say to you guys.”
They reached the bottom of the stairs. Reika shuffled her feet and didn’t look anyone in the eye. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was being stupid.”
Merlin set his jaw, but didn’t say anything.
“Thinking that our family should be a certain way because it’s ‘normal’ is dumb and mean. I love you all and I’m really glad you’re my family. All of you.”
Just as Reika’s contempt earlier was clear, so was her contrition now. She snuck a glance at her family. Dad was smiling at her, proud of her for apologizing, but not overly hurt. Mom’s smile was much smaller. She obviously still wasn’t happy that Reika made the remark in the first place. Pare was shocked, not having realized what Reika had said until she apologized for it. She looked so hurt, Reika wanted to apologize all over again.
But the least happy one was Merlin. From the angry look he was giving her, she knew he had made the connection she missed, That saying Dad wasn’t her parent was the same as saying Merlin wasn’t her brother.
“ ‘M sorry,” She said again, ducking behind Kaasan’s leg.
“I’ll forgive you,” Merlin said, though he still sounded unhappy. “This time. But if you ever say we’re not family again…”
“I won’t!” Reika promised desperately.
“Good,” Merlin curled back into his Pare, he’d forgiven her, but he still wasn’t happy with her right now.
Reika wilted a bit, but her Kaasan put a comforting hand on her shoulder. As much as she hated that her daughter had to go through this, actions had consequences and shielding her from them wouldn’t be good for anyone. Her son had already been deeply hurt and she had no desire to repeat this.
But the hurt feelings would fade. By the time Reika was ungrounded, Merlin would already have a bunch of new ideas of trouble for his favorite sister to join him in.
The family would endure, forged as it was in absolute love.  
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queenofthyme · 7 years ago
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A week of somewhat forced but not completely unpleasant dinner dates with Harry Potter. A story by Draco L Malfoy.
Content Warning: Major character struggling with eating disorder
@ravenna1988 - and here it ends! I hope it met your expectations. Thank you again for the prompt. It was difficult to write but definitely worthwhile.
Read previous parts here: Part One l Part Two l Part Three l Part Four l Part Five l Part Six l Part Seven
Part Eight Wednesday Again
“Draco!”
Draco wants to roll his eyes. He wants to shrug with a casual air of indifference. He wants to turn back around. But on seeing his mother’s face light up so immediately at his presence at the door, he can’t quite manage it. He lets himself be pulled into a hug with only a “No need to fret, Mother,” in his defence.
“I’m not fretting”, Narcissa insists, tightening her hold. “I’m hugging my son whom I haven’t seen in over a week.”
Draco relaxes and wraps his arms around his mother in return. He’s not overly keen to admit it but he’s missed her. It’s only been a week. But he has missed her terribly. And it’s all his fault.
“I love you,” Narcissa says, still holding him, as if he hasn’t shut her out for the last week, as if he hadn’t yelled at her, berated her, and said the most dreadful things.
“I love you too,” Draco says quietly in return as she finally lets go and he steps inside the Manor.
Her eyes study him carefully. A pause and then: “Have you eaten today?”
She’s brave. She’s always been so. A question like that could easily turn into an argument. In fact, it has several times in the past. But Draco’s trying to be brave too. “You already know I haven’t.”
“I’ll make you an omelette. You always used to love when your father would – “
“Mother.” Draco interrupts preparing himself to jump into the fray. It’s now or never. “Will you come with me to the hospital?”
“Oh, Draco!” Narcissa says, her eyes dangerously wet as she pulls Draco in for another hug. “Of course, of course.”
“I’m sorry for –“ Draco thinks of all the things he had send to his mother that last time he saw her. The yelling. The screaming. All because she had told him what he couldn’t bear to see himself. He has an eating disorder. Merlin, it’s still hard to even think it. But he doesn’t say all that. He settles on – “pushing you away.” She knows what he means anyway.
Narcissa pulls back to look at Draco, and yes, she’s crying, and now Draco might start crying too, fucking hell. “Don’t you think on it,” she says in a choked up voice. “You’re here now and you’re ready. I’m so proud of you, dear.”
So, when Draco arrives in St Mungo’s apparition ward, it’s hand in hand with his mother, and he’s clinging on tight, terrified to let go.
Draco tries to concentrate on the Doctor talking to him but there’s something distracting him. Something he feels like he’s missing. Something he should be doing right now. He checks the time. Just after 7pm. Dinner. He’s missing dinner. And it feels strange.
Just as Draco’s pondering this, as if accio-ed by his thoughts, who else but Harry Potter appears in the door of the hospital room, looking horribly flushed and sweaty.
The Doctor pauses for a moment to glance at the intruder.
‘How is it that you look worse than me, Potter?” Draco asks, although he’s being a little facetious. A sweaty Potter is not necessarily a bad looking Potter. Not at all.
“Work ran late,” Potter says, running a hand through his damp hair as he walks into the room. “I wanted to get here earlier to see you.”
“Pansy told you?” Draco guesses. He has a suspicion they may just be colluding behind his back.
“Yeah she…I’m glad.” Potter says, seeming unable to string a full sentence together. He looks over to the Doctor. “Sorry, I’m interrupting. I’ll wait outside.”
“Stay.”
Without another word Potter sits by Draco’s side and takes his hand, gently. How else? They both turn to the Doctor.
“For now, we’re magically feeding you, making sure you get all the nutrients your body needs. But you need to relearn how to eat on your own as well. Get rid of bad, destructive habits. I’m not going to ask you to do anything until you’re in a stronger state, but I’d like you to start thinking about a food you enjoy, maybe an old favourite food. Something that might get you to start to think positively about eating again. Can you do that?”
“Yeah…sure.” Draco watches the Doctor leave. That’s it? A favourite food? He can’t see how that’s going to get him eating again. But if it’s what the doctor orders…
“Did you have a food in mind?” Potter asks.
“I can’t think,” Draco says when noting comes to his head. He can’t recall enjoying food at all, let alone having a favourite. Just thinking about food is repulsive.
“Hold on.” Potter says, with a small smile he’s obviously trying to hide. He pulls his hand from Draco’s grip (which Draco lets go of very very reluctantly) and disappears from the room.
He returns a short time later with his hands outstretched. He’s holding a green apple. A single green apple. Draco stares at it.
“A green apple?”
“It’s your favourite, isn’t it? And I’m thinking maybe when you’re a bit better, I could make you apple pie. Or something with applesauce? Do you like that? Or, I know it sounds weird, but Hermione makes this really great apple and walnut salad. And maybe this is a little childish, but I’ve always wanted to make candied – “
Draco is listening to Harry, he really is, but he’s also staring, staring transfixed at this beautiful, compassionate man. With everything that he’s been through, no one could blame Harry if he were to become unkind, cynical, selfish. But he’s none of those things. Not even close. Despite all the darkness that has stolen its way into his life, Harry has remained a shining light, a saviour. Always. And Draco is just finding out what it’s like to have that light focused on you; it’s blinding.
At this point, even a green apple, which Harry is right, was once his favourite, isn’t anything that Draco can think positively about. It’s food. It’s repulsive. It’s wrong. But Harry Potter’s light, now there’s something very right about that.  
Draco leans up from the hospital bed, feeling stronger already. He’d like to be a romantic and say its thanks to Harry’s presence but that would do a disservice to the St Mungo’s staff who’ve been looking after him all day, to the nutrients they’ve ensured reach his stomach and refuel his body (although he’s still trying not to think too much on exactly what they put inside of him), and to the progress Draco’s made in simply accepting help from others. It’s not Harry’s presence at all. And maybe that’s more romantic. He doesn’t need Harry. But he wants him. By merlin, he wants him. So he cuts off Harry’s green apple rant – he’s now going on about Green Apple sorbet – with a soft kiss on the lips.
At least it’s meant to be soft. It starts off soft. But Draco has more energy than he has had in months, and Harry, well, Harry is equally enthusiastic. It’s not exactly how Draco pictured his first kiss with Harry. Not that he had pictured if of course. But let’s just say if, hypothetically, he had, it certainly wasn’t in a cold sterile hospital room with Draco wearing nothing but a hospital gown and Harry fully clothed.
But nonetheless, it’s perfect. And really the hospital isn’t all bad. The gown is of course. The gown is all kinds of hideous. But Draco can make it through. No, he’s going to make it through. Because Draco Malfoy is a long way from fully recovering. Perhaps he’ll never get there completely. But he’s finally ready to try.
And so it finally ends. Thanks for reading. Just a quick note from the author because I don't want anyone stuck in a false fantasy: as I hope this story will be interpreted: romance is NOT a cure, love and support are helpful but professional help is usually the best course of action. Be safe and look after yourself and your friends ❤ xx
ao3 l @queenofthyme
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alcoholicseraphim · 8 years ago
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The Year Before Tomorrow
Chapter Eight- Year I- Upstart Mudblood
"She's not in the castle," muttered Sirius, feverishly checking the Map over and over for Hermione Granger. He did not see James rolling his eyes from the other bed, nor would he have cared.
"Why are you so obsessed with this bird, Padfoot?" James whined. "If she doesn't want to be around us anymore, fine. You've already tried to get her back- how many times, Moony?"
"Four," Remus replied without looking up from his book.
"Four times," said James. "It hasn't done anything. You should just let it go already."
Sirius shook his head. "You never liked her, anyway."
James didn't hate Hermione, but he definitely harbored no affection for her. The first day of term, James had told Sirius that he didn't want her around. She's a bitch, he'd said, referring to her frosty welcome. And then there were those moments where her eyes would lose focus and she would stare into space. There was an old rage in her eyes during those times, something deep and painful. Maybe she killed somebody, James had said. He was unnerved by her, even afraid. She's hiding something, he'd insisted. Sirius didn't disagree. A lot of somethings. Secrets were fine with the Marauders. They had more than their fair share, of course. As far as he knew, though, none of them ever looked haunted. Not like that.
Where James was wary, Sirius was fascinated.
He paused and jabbed his wand at the parchment. "There! She's in the mirror passage!" Only a twinge of hurt accompanied the triumph. It had been three weeks since she'd cut them off. A part of him understood why James was confused, but who was James to talk? He'd been chasing Evans for far longer than Sirius had been chasing Hermione. Even then, Sirius wasn't trying to get Hermione to date him, just to talk to him, maybe even explain what was happening to her.
"How did she even find out about that one?" mused Peter, his voice muffled. He was face-down on his pillow, kicking his feet lazily in the air. "You never told her, did you, Padfoot?"
"Nope. She used the one-eyed witch passage, too, at the beginning of the year. She knows about the ones inside the castle, and I think she knows about the Shrieking Shack. I'm not sure about that one, since I've never seen her use it. Why would she, anyway, if she knew where it leads?" Sirius watched the little dot bearing Hermione's name travel up to the Headmaster's tower and stop for only a second at the gargoyles before moving upward. He raised one eyebrow, peering closer at the Map. He had expected her to go straight to her dormitory. What business did she have with Dumbledore? "She's in Dumbledore's office," he announced. "He isn't in there...?"
James grabbed the Map from Sirius's hands. "You're right- but she isn't doing anything. She's just sitting in that chair." He exchanged a brief grin with Sirius. They knew "that chair" quite well.
"So she's waiting for him?" Sirius tilted the edge of the parchment down so he could see it.
"I think so?"
Sirius tapped the fifth corridor. "Oh, look, there he is!" The dot was moving swiftly toward his office.
Peter sat up with a yawn. "It's time for dinner. Come on, let's go!" He waddled to the door eagerly.
"Your shoes," Remus reminded him, shutting his book.
"Oh, right."
"Are you coming?" asked Remus.
James glanced at him. "Yeah, we are," he replied. He handed the Map back to Sirius, who folded it and stowed it away in his robe pocket after a quick "Mischief managed".
They traveled as a pack, always. Crowds parted to let them through, which Sirius appreciated. He was sure they knew that the Marauders tended to have a few tricks up their sleeves.
"Do you think she'll come to dinner today?" Peter fretted.
"Not you, too," James groaned. He clutched his heart and swooned back in a hyperbolic fashion, but they all knew that he was getting annoyed with this whole Granger business.
Sirius frowned. Peter was right. Hermione had stopped coming to meals in the Great Hall, and he never saw her go to the kitchens. He watched the Map for her so often that he would have noticed if she had. He could only assume that she ate in Hogsmeade. Maybe at the Hog's Head?
"Lighten up, mate. I'm sure she's eating somewhere. That's her business. You're not her mother, yeah?" James nudged Sirius's shoulder, hard. Sirius stumbled to the side a few steps. He shoved back, but stopped caring halfway through and only managed a light push.
They reached the Great Hall soon after. James opened his arms and Lily flew into them. Sirius waited patiently for the pair to quit snogging. Peter made gagging noises behind Lily's back, and Sirius snickered as James flipped them off with both hands.
Just as they'd all suspected, Hermione wasn't in the Great Hall. Was she still in Dumbledore's office, though? Sirius knew that he shouldn't take out the Map in public. It was their trump card, after all, but he needed to know where Hermione was. All he had to do was play it cool, as if it were just any old parchment. He reached into his pocket and laid the Map out on the table, keeping the sides folded up so no one else could see. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he mouthed, surreptitiously poking the Map with his wand.
Ah. There she was.
*|II8II|*
Several tables away, Regulus listened with one ear to the low chatter and strained with the other to hear what his brother was doing. Sirius had been acting odd for quite a while- since the Granger girl stopped associating with them, he reckoned. He didn't blame her in the slightest, but Sirius was clearly bothered.
Regulus had never stopped looking after his brother, even though his mother would say that they weren't family anymore. It wasn't that simple, not by a long shot. His mother could blast all of her relatives off of the family tree, but that wouldn't erase the years of love and companionship that they'd shared. Still, Regulus couldn't afford to be disowned. He was the last male heir. The Ancient and Noble House of Black could not continue if Regulus were cast off.
Their parents should never have disowned Sirius. They should never have demanded he join the Dark Lord's forces. If they had known their son at all, they would have recognized that he wouldn't agree even under the Cruciatus. Regulus still wondered whether they did actually know, and did it on purpose so they would have some excuse to disown him. Perhaps Regulus would never know for sure. He wasn't such a fool that he would tell anyone or, Merlin forbid, ask them.
What was that parchment? Sirius's eyes were dark and focused. Perhaps "obsession" wasn't such a strong word, in his case. Sirius was a Black, after all. They were infamous for their madness. The parchment must have had something to do with Granger, Regulus reasoned. He couldn't remember Sirius being quite so passionate about anything else.
"Black. Your thoughts?" The sound of Avery's grating, adenoidal voice pulled Regulus's attention back to the Slytherin table.
He had only barely been listening, but that was enough. It took only a second to put together a suitable response. "Utter rubbish. Minister Midgeon must be replaced; we can't have a Minister who cannot defy the public when they are clearly wrong."
Some of the boys nodded, satisfied with that. None of them would have expected anything else from him.
It drew only a few glances when he rose to leave, and those glances were brief and unconcerned. Regulus always left dinner early, to avoid the ridiculous amount of traffic as everyone shuffled on dead feet back to their Common Rooms.
The walk down to the dungeons was a quiet one, as usual. The buzz from the Great Hall gradually faded to nothing, and that was why he heard her approaching.
"Going somewhere, Granger?" he asked conversationally.
"Yes," she said without sarcasm.
"You weren't in the Great Hall."
"I rarely am. I'm flattered you noticed." That part did hold a bit of scorn, but it was subtle, so Regulus couldn't be sure.
Regulus slowed so that they were walking side by side. Granger didn't seem to care, and she didn't acknowledge it. "My brother has been growing concerned, you see," he prodded. "Concerned" was one word for it, anyway.
If he hadn't been looking for a reaction he wouldn't have noticed the pain twisting her features before her voluminous hair fell between them and hid her face. "That's his problem," Granger said. Her voice was controlled and even a little flippant, but Regulus now knew better. He'd spent his whole life around people with more secrets than teeth, and he liked to think he'd discovered most of them. Granger was a Gryffindor, and like all of her kin she would be easy to read for someone like him.
His curiosity was killing him, but he knew that nothing she would say from then on would be honest. "Here I leave you. Goodnight, Granger," he said, flashing his teeth at her in a fair approximation of a smile. The friendliness was wasted on her, unfortunately, as she was already turning away.
"Goodnight, Black."
He watched her continue down the hallway, her shoulders hunched and head bowed. Granger held no obvious contempt for him, which was refreshing. He had expected her to be more like his brother, who had always hated Slytherins and patronized him for being younger. After a moment, Regulus began walking again. His bed was waiting for him.
In the morning his owl came to him, predictably. Regulus had been waiting for a reply from his mother for two days, and was pleased to finally untie the scroll from the bird's leg. He broke the seal and read the missive.
Dear Regulus,
Your last letter finds me well. Your father is also fine, though we fear he may be succumbing to stress as of late. As I have mentioned, he is helping your Uncle Cygnus in negotiating your cousin Narcissa's marriage to one Lucius Malfoy. The match will strengthen our bloodline and will be well worth it in the future, but I must say that Abraxas Malfoy is very much deceived in how much we are willing to spend on Narcissa's dowry. He should be grateful that your worthless blood traitor of a cousin is no longer part of the family. Abraxas will receive half of the blood traitor's former dowry, which is sizable enough on its own. Your father has tried and is trying to tell the man this, but he will not see sense. Though it is not my place, I must say that the Malfoys will want for much if Narcissa's sons take after their grandfather. This is the most pressing of news, as it is vital you know of your family's affairs before the others do. Merlin knows Abraxas Malfoy will have bragged about the proceedings in all the tearooms of Britain, from the highborn to the mudbloods. Pureblood the Malfoys may be, but they still lost any sense of grace many generations since.
Your Uncle Alphard is planning on making Sirius his heir, going directly against what your father and I have ordered. It is not my place to be angry at the man, but I certainly won't be doing him any favors. He has chosen the blood traitor. He can live with the consequences.
I trust that your marks remain high, my son. Your intelligence is the prize of our House, and it must be known. Your own bride must be able to keep up with your impressive intellect, and it gives me no small amount of pride to inform you that Leto Greengrass is now your betrothed. She would have been married to your wretched brother, but as he is no longer our family the contract now passes to you, as the heir. It simply would have been unforgivably offensive to the Greengrasses to rob their daughter of such a desirable match.
Your Mother,
Mrs Walburga Black
Regulus took a deep breath, staring at the flourish on his mother's signature. It was just like her to leave such important news for last, wasn't it? He was sure Leto Greengrass was a lovely person, but he didn't much appreciate getting his brother's leftovers. Even so, he wouldn't dream of complaining, as that would be the ultimate insult against the girl, her parents, and his parents.
Later, up in his dorm, he began drafting a reply.
Dear Mother,
Yours and father's decisions are beyond my reproach, should I begin to feel any. I thank you. How soon will the contract be finished? Will I meet Miss Greengrass before we are wed? I know I have seen her before, but only as Sirius's betrothed. We have never spoken more than a few polite words. How will I measure her intelligence if I cannot speak to her?
Sirius will not be destitute, then? I cannot say I feel anything more than indifference on the matter. He has been acting strangely as of late. I suspect it must be his obsession over one Hermione Granger.
I wish Father and Narcissa luck in their associations with the Malfoys. Lucius Malfoy is a charming enough man, and certainly more cultured than his father. It must be the influence of his mother. Narcissa will bear him healthy sons, I know it. She will bring honor to us, unlike her sister. Do not fear.
Yours,
Regulus Black
The reply came the next morning at breakfast, which was an unusually brief wait.
Dear Regulus,
I am proud that you are accepting this whole business with such grace, as much as I wish you could be more enthusiastic. I suppose the girl is ecstatic, and why wouldn't she be? This match is the best thing that has happened to her family in generations. The contract will be finished within the next two years. You should be able to be wed on your seventeenth birthday, should you so choose. As far as meeting her, that is reasonable enough. I will speak to your father about it. I need not lecture you on the sanctity of marriage and the necessity for pure virtue, I trust.
Hermione Granger? I cannot say that I know the name. "Granger" is not a pureblood family, so is this little chit half-blood scum? Or, even worse, a Mudblood? That is exactly the sort of company Sirius would keep, although now they are all the company he could keep. He should have thought twice before forcing me to disown him. A blood traitor cannot ask for much in society. Come, my son. Tell me about this Hermione Granger.
I would write more, but I fear my head is aching terribly. I have taken a potion for it, but it doesn't seem to be working as quickly as I would like.
Your Mother,
Walburga Black
Regulus had no doubt that he wasn't his mother's only source of information at Hogwarts, for all that he was her most trusted one. It would be pointless to deny her information she could receive elsewhere. He wanted to remain involved in this affair, and the only way that would happen was if he proved himself useful.
Dear Mother,
I look forward to meeting her.
Yes, Granger is a Mudblood. She seems proud of it, from what I've observed. She was taken in by Sirius's band of misfits almost immediately. To her credit, she didn't seem particularly willing. Very little is known of her past. When asked, she doesn't even come up with a lie, she just refuses to respond. There is a rumor going around that she's a refugee of war, though I don't know enough to prove or disprove it.
One thing does perplex me, Mother. Why should you care who Sirius talks to? He is as low as she is now, being a blood traitor.
Yours,
Regulus Black
It wasn't a subtle tactic, to make his mother question why exactly she cared. Perhaps she would drop the matter altogether, although that wasn't likely. Regulus rubbed his temples. A migraine was on its way.
*|II8II|*
"Are you sure about this?" Aberforth asked once again.
Hermione nodded, face wan and even a little green. "I need to. There's a Horcrux in there... I have to get it."
"You couldn't leave that one until the end?" If she didn't know better, she would almost think he was concerned for her. And yet, his eyes held none of the worry that the old Abe would have. He cared about the mission, not her.
"I could," she said. She could leave it until the end, and it would be wiser to do so. However, her alternatives were to break into Malfoy Manor, which she knew little about and would bring up painful memories, or locate the Locket, which she was almost positive wasn't in the cave yet. Both were unfamiliar and daunting tasks. She and Aberforth had already retrieved the Ring with minimal effort. The Cup was what she was most comfortable getting at this point. It was a little ridiculous to prefer breaking into the most heavily-guarded place in the Wizarding world, but it was familiar. She'd done it before, and the security had been exceedingly hyped then. Unfortunately, her knowledge of its security was barely adequate for such a delicate mission. She'd tried searching in Keane's shop, but Goblins weren't much for writing books and wizards knew only of the alarms they triggered. Part of what made Gringott's so secure was the utter secrecy surrounding said security. This was for the express purpose of dissuading anyone from doing what Hermione and Aberforth were about to do.
"But you won't." Aberforth didn't know much about her. He hadn't joined her in her research. Still, Hermione was grateful that he'd come to know her well enough to predict her movements, and above all to trust her judgment. He knew they were going in nearly blind, and he'd never once asked her to guarantee he would come out again.
"No." She turned away, running her thumb over the Portkey. It was set to activate to a password, or, failing that, holding her breath for over sixty seconds. She didn't expect to be unable to speak or move, but it was best to be prepared. Aberforth had one of his own. She'd gone over the activation requirements so often that he'd gotten irritated with her, but she wanted him to get out even if she could not.
He said nothing, only handed her a band to put on her wrist. The band was designed to make remembering her features difficult, but not so much that it would arouse suspicion. Aberforth would not have one, as their names would have been recorded immediately upon entering the building anyway. The name of Dumbledore would be recognized anywhere, and he would be the one studied. His presence while Hermione visited her vault was easily explained away: he was her employer. It wasn't uncommon to accompany an employee to a vault to check that the money was exactly where it should be.
They exchanged a look before Hermione slipped her small hand into the crease of his arm. With a loud crack, they were relocated to the Leaky Cauldron. They went through, avoiding the glances of the patrons and Tom, the bartender. It was a simple matter to get into Diagon Alley, and Hermione felt the sudden noise would burst her eardrums. She kept her head down, trying her utmost to focus on the mission and only the mission. It wouldn't do to think about all the deaths she'd seen here, caused here. It wouldn't do to note the many differences between this Diagon Alley and hers from the future.
Her hand was still hooked around Aberforth's arm, and he patted it awkwardly. It did make her feel a bit better, and she nodded at his unspoken question: "Are you composed enough for this?"
Together they walked into Gringott's. "I'd like to visit my account, if you please," Hermione told the goblin teller, knowing that he'd already seen their names and knew exactly who they were. She fought hard to keep her voice confident.
"Key," he said, looking down at her from the high counter and the even higher stack of paperwork.
"Of course," she said, reaching into her pocket to grab it. "Here, sir."
He took it from her, checking it for counterfeiting. Hermione could see that being polite had marginally softened the goblin. Indignation rose up in her at the obvious lack of courtesy goblins were used to, but she squashed it down. Now was neither the time nor place. "Kragnus," the goblin said, and another goblin appeared beside him. "Take them to Vault 148," he ordered, handing over the key. Kragnus bowed and beckoned Hermione and Aberforth to follow him.
They all climbed into the cart. Hermione felt her stomach turn at the rocking movement as if gravity had ceased to exist within her belly. They were traveling at breakneck speeds to their destination. She tapped Aberforth's arm twice with one finger, and he raised his arm and cast an Imperio at Kragnus. She had been worried that they would lose control of the vehicle at that point, but she was relieved to find that the goblin could still operate it as normal.
"Take us to the Lestrange Vault," Aberforth suggested smoothly, and Kragnus abruptly changed their course.
Hermione cradled her head between her knees, fighting the nausea. She was glad that she didn't have to worry about anything until they came to the vault, since all of her concentration was focused on keeping herself from vomiting out the side of the cart. Who would clean it up? Would it just fester for a thousand years to become yet another unidentifiable stain? The thought cheered her and almost made her smile.
Several minutes later, Hermione heard the breaks screeching against the rails as the cart came to a stop. She was thrown forward against the goblin's back, knocking him nearly over the front of the cart. Aberforth grabbed the back of his tiny suit before he could fall out. The Imperius would keep Kragnus's instincts from reacting promptly enough to keep him from tumbling to his death. Everyone righted themselves before stepping out onto a platform next to a high-security vault.
"Why doesn't that happen all the time?" Hermione wondered aloud, referring to the overly-abrupt stop. "It's obviously a hazard. Surely they have safeguards to keep that from happening?"
Aberforth glared at her from beneath bushy grey eyebrows.
Oh. Right. The Imperius had affected Kragnus's ability to operate the cart effectively. Inhibited motor function wasn't something she'd anticipated, and it seemed painfully obvious in hindsight.
As for the vault, Hermione had no idea what the extent of the security was. She hadn't forgotten the blind guard dragon, and hoped they wouldn't have to escape on him again. "Don't touch anything," she warned while Kragnus opened the door.
"Why not?" Aberforth surveyed the room. It was full of artifacts, heirlooms, and an excessive amount of Galleons.
"There's a protective spell on everything in here," Hermione explained. "If you touch anything with your bare skin, it will burn you and multiply. It's a measure against theft." From her pocket she drew a metal rod with a hook on the end, which she then extended and used to latch onto the handle of the Cup. It was placed carefully into an enchanted pouch before they left the vault.
"Take us to Vault 148," Aberforth said, and they all got back into the cart. Hermione was less than happy about that. After another sickening ride, they were outside Hermione's actual vault. "Obliviate," Aberforth said, ending the Imperius on Kragnus.
Kragnus immediately took out the key and turned it in the lock, not appearing to realize that anything was amiss. Hermione watched as the door opened, feeling giddy. Adrenaline roared through her and she knew her hands were shaking. She stepped inside and collected a few Galleons, nearly fumbling them a few times, before stepping out again. "Thank you, sir," she said, smiling at the goblin.
He nodded impatiently before leading them all back into the cart. Once they were back in the lobby, Hermione and Aberforth spoke at the same time. "Angel dust," they said, and the Portkeys activated, bringing them back to Aberforth's room in the Hog's Head.
"We did it," Hermione whispered unnecessarily. Aberforth was clearly thinking the same thing, a rare grin on his face. All of his wrinkles deepened, and Hermione found that he looked more like Albus than she'd thought.
Hermione giggled, and hysteria soon brought her to her knees, laughing loudly and somewhat insanely. They'd done it! They'd really, really done it! There was no need to escape on a dragon, and as far as she knew the goblins had no idea anything was missing. This was real, tangible progress in her mission and Hermione felt more accomplished than she had in a very long time.
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drarry-sb · 8 years ago
Text
Omegling
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
You both like harry potter rp, harry potter slash rp, and drarry rp.
You: hi there!!!!
Stranger: Hi
You: fancy a rp?
Stranger: Sure
You: Yay! Preference to who you play?
Stranger: I prefer Draco but I am perfectly fine with either if that's alright.
You: That's perfectly fine with me. Would you like a before war, after war, auror, prostitution, creature, or slavery prompt?
Stranger: Before the war, after the war or slavery sounds good
You: Okay. Give me a moment.
You: For slavery, master or slave?
Stranger: Slave
You: okay. hang on
You: Here are several: #1 Harry stood in the back of the crowd. He really did not want to be there, but as the Savior and the Ministry’s Golden Boy, it was expected of him. Where was there? There was a Death Eater auction. To raise money, the Ministry had decided to auction off the lesser Death Eaters as slaves to pay for the reconstruction of the Wizarding World. Harry thought it to be horrific and inhumane, but his opinion did not mean much when it went against the Ministry’s. He watched the scared faces as the men and women were auctioned off. He was just thankful that he did not know any of them. Oh, spoke to soon, because he definitely recognized that head of pale blond hair, even if it was dirty beyond belief. #2 Draco pried open his eyes when he heard footsteps approaching. When he looked and recognized the messy hair and green eyes, he cowered back, his body trembling. He bit his lip. “C-came to finish the job?” he asked through the pain. He glanced down at his beaten, bruised, and bloody body. He smiled weakly, feeling the dry tear tracks on his face. “Sorry, most of the work is done. You can do the honors, though.” He closed his eyes, blocking out the man he’d known for nine years. [Either during or after the war. In both cases, the war lasted longer than in the books and the boys are in their early twenties. For during war, it was either the Light or fellow Death Eaters who attacked Draco. For after war, Draco was attacked by an anti-Death Eater group of people, i.e. mob.] #3 Harry paced the floor with his wand arm cradled to his chest: to the wall with the cot, to the wall with the small window at the top, and back again. He did not know how long he had been there, since the band of Neo-Death Eaters had caught him. It felt like forever, each day the same as the previous. Harry shook his head. He did not understand how it could have gone so wrong; the mission had been straightforward, simple enough that a trainee could have done it. And it was, until the Neo-Death Eaters crashed their bust of a small illegal potions ring. Harry was worried about the rest of the group, whether they were alright, hurt, or captured. Specifically, a certain pale blond prat by the name of Draco Malfoy. Harry sighed, sitting back down the cot, for there was nothing he could do if they had gotten Draco, not matter how much he fretted. A knock on the door had Harry on high alert. It appeared his captors were paying him a visit. #4 Harry sat on one of the boulders around the lake, throwing smaller rocks into the water. He really did not want to come back for this ‘eighth’ year. But, since he decided not to take the Ministry up on their offer to start training right after the war, he needed his NEWTs to pursuit something else. He was so lost in thought that he did not realize he was not alone. He jumped, nearly falling into the water when a voice called out. It asked who was there and sounded rather nervous. “It’s me,” he answered, though that did not really answer the voice’s question. [The voice is Draco, swimming in the water] #5 Draco stood in the back of the crowd, watching as the Dark Lord gave out slaves as rewards. Person after person was given away, most of the faces familiar to him. He really, really did not want to be there, but it was required. Then, Potter was shoved onto the stage. His pulse quickened, and he hoped. It was a long shot, but maybe, he would be given the raven haired man. At the least, to protect the man from the horrors of the other Death Eaters.
Stranger: (I like #1.) As Draco was lead onto the stage, he kept his eyes down, focusing on the bonds holding his wrists together. He was attempting to keep himself grounded in the moment, to not go insane with the thought that he was being auctioned off as a slave. It was a shock to his psyche. To go from such a place of power, to being a lowly servant. It made his stomach twist and he drew in a deep breath, counting to ten in his head.
You: It physically hurt Harry to see Draco cowed as much. The blond had always been so proud, so sure, and now he was resolutely staring down, avoiding all eye contact. Harry had to do something. To his horror, he watched as the bidding opened, and people began to bid. Merlin, every few seconds another paddle was raised into the air, the price rising steadily. And the look on some of the people's faces. Harry shuddered. It was like the blond was a pretty new toy to play with. To use. To break. No, Harry needed to do something, something drastic, and fast. He stood up, raising his paddle. "50,000 Galleons," he called out, which was over five times the current going price. Silence rained as everyone turned to stare at him, but Harry stood his ground. He squared his shouldered and glared at the auctioneer, daring the wizard to question him.
Stranger: Draco felt sick to his stomach as he heard the bidding begin, even more so when he heard so many voices eager to pay so much for him. Of course... He was the perfect pedigree... Raised in high class society. What better way to degrade him by making him into a slave. Draco shut his eyes tightly, wishing he were with his parents. His mother had already been auctioned off and his father... Well Lucius was in Azkaban already. The blonde tensed when he heard a familiar voice call out an obscenely large bid and he swallowed hard. No... No not Potter. The Gryffindor had every right to torment him after all he'd said and done while they were in school.
You: The auctioneer cleared his throat, looking out over the rest of the crowd. "50,000 going once?" He called. Silence. "50,000 going twice?" Silence again. "Sold, to Harry Potter for 50,000 Galleons." Harry could have cheered, but he reigned in that reaction. Instead, he smirked, and began to walk towards the front of the room to claim his 'bid'. /All part of the act/ he told himself, trying to keep up the smug aura. He internally winced as the guard holding Draco's bonds kicked the blond in the back of the knees to get him to move towards the stairs of the stage. Harry wanted to call out, to shout for the man not to hurt Draco, but he couldn't. He had to play the part of the Ministry's Golden Boy, at least until he got himself and Draco out of there and to Grimmauld.
Stranger: Draco wanted to vomit when he heard that he was sold.... /sold/ to Harry Potter. 'Just kill me now...' He thought to himself, though he knew death would be far too good for him. When the guard kicked him toward the stairs, he groaned inwardly, his body sore. He walked over to the edge of the stage, keeping his eyes focused on the ground, refusing to look at Harry as he approached him.
You: Harry could not hold back his sneer as he was handed the lead attached to Draco's bonds. Hopefully, people thought the sneer was directed at the blond, and not the guard, like it actually was. He turned to look at the auctioneer. "I'll be taking my prize home now," he said, clear and authoritative, "Settle my bill with the goblins." He offered the man his account information. Not to any of his inherited vaults, but to the one his auror pay check went into: his trust fun vault, which still have more than that in it, but nut as much as the Black or Potter family vaults. Harry turned to the blond, tugging a little on the lead. "Let's go," he said, loud enough for the gathered crowd to hear, "I don't have all day."
Stranger: Draco tugged against his restraints as they were handed over to Harry but he continued to look down at the ground. 'Why him...' He thought to himself as he felt the lead being tugged. So badly he wanted to lash out at Potter. But he knew better in the moment. In a room full of people who would love to see him tortured or dead... Attacking their precious Golden Boy would not be the best idea. Instead, Draco simply followed Harry wordlessly.
You: Once they had left the building, Harry grabbed Draco's arm and apparated them straight into the living room of Grimmauld Place. "Sorry about that," he said, "I just needed to get you out of there before you did something stupid." He pointed his wand at the blond's restraints, vanishing them wordlessly. Then, he put his wand away in its holster. "There, that's better," he said, turning towards the door. He hoped that showing his back to the blond meant he trusted the man. Or at least, that was what he hoped the blond would get from his actions.
Stranger: Draco stumbled slightly as they apparated to Grimmauld Place, weak from his treatment in captivity. He tensed up when the wand was aimed at him and he was confused when the restraints were taken away. 'What's going on...' He thought to himself as he rubbed his wrists where the bonds had been, the skin red there. When Harry turned his back, it confused the blonde even more. Why do that? Draco could easily attack him... "Potter..." He said slowly, his voice hoarse from hours of screaming from torture by the ministry. All stuff he was sure they would keep under wraps. Play the heroes. Pretend that they treated their prisoners well. "What's going on..."
You: Harry looked over his shoulder, leaning against the door frame. "Well, I was going to go make you some chicken noodle soup," he answered with a smile, "I know you haven't eaten in a while, so I was going to make something simple. That shouldn't upset your stomach." He hummed, tilting his head to the side. "There's also some bread Kreature made yesterday, if you want some to go with it." His eyes zeroed in on the sores on the man's wrists. "Right, there's a bathroom on the next floor, on the left. It has some ointment that should help with those." He did not say that that bathroom was where he cleaned himself up from Auror missions, so it was actually equipped with a full med-kit. He turned back around. "The soup will take about an hour. That's enough time to shower, if you want. Under the sink, there's towels, and some spare clothes in the cabinet above the toilet."
Stranger: Draco blinked slowly, completely and utterly confused. Why was Potter being kind to him? Making him something to eat.... Offering him a shower and clean clothes.... Draco decided not to question it for now. He simply nodded and turned, walking down the hallway to the bathroom. He started the shower to get the water warm before he began stripping off his clothes, placing them in the corner of the room. He got into the shower and winced as the warm water rushed over the cuts and bruises on his skin. 'Damn ministry...' He thought to himself as he began to wash up. When he was satisfied with being clean, he got out of the shower and toweled off before applying the ointment to his wrists. In the cabinet he found spare clothes and put them on. They were only slightly big as Harry was a bit taller than him. Once dressed, he picked up his clothes and walked back to the kitchen.
You: Harry had music playing. He had managed to bewitch the old phonograph to play a muggle music radio station. He was dancing along, singing under his breath as he chopped carrots and celery. The chicken was boiling in the pot already. He was in his own little world. Harry still wasn't sure how he got Kreature to loosen his reign over the townhouse enough to let Harry cook, but somehow he did. It was probably that Harry made Kreature head elf, having the other elves at the other properties answer to the elderly elf. He did not notice the blond come into the ktichen.
You: *kitchen
Stranger: Draco walked into the kitchen, his hair still wet. He leaned in the doorway, watching Harry with an amused smile on his face. So that's what it looked like to just let go... To be in your own world. Without caring about anything else. He watched for a few moments before clearing his throat to grab the Gryffindors attention. The smell in the kitchen was already beginning to intoxicate him and his stomach growled. "Need any help?" He asked, though it hurt to speak.
You: Harry jumped, the knife slipping. "Shit," he cursed as blood welled up from the cut on his finger. He unconscious stuck it into his mouth and turned to face the blond. "If you want," he said, muffled by his finger, "I'd put a kettle on for tea. Kreature has this blend of herbs to go in tea that works wonders for sore throats. That should help soothe yours, I think."
Stranger: Draco's eyes widened as he watched Harry cut his finger. "Don't just suck on it. If it's bad enough to bleed then it's bad enough to get infected." He said, taking Harry's other hand and leading him back to the bathroom where he opened the med kit. He quickly cleaned the cut and bandaged it up. Most people were unaware of the fact that before he'd gotten roped into the war, Draco had been studying to become a healer. "There."
You: Harry grinned. "Thanks, Draco," he said, "You're my hero." Harry had vaguely remembered rumors that the Death Eaters managed to recruit a Healer trainee, but he had never realized that the trainee was Draco. This would be perfect. His plan was going to work out smoothly, as soon as he got the blond to France.
Stranger: Draco rolled his eyes and would have playfully told the Gryffindor to shut up if his throat didn't hurt so badly. He simply nodded and stood up, walking with him back into the kitchen where he filled the kettle with water before putting it on the stove. He was more than happy to help Harry, even though he was still hopelessly confused about what was happening.
You: Harry turned down the music so it was now just background noise. He picked up the knife again, and set to work. "So, explanations," he began, glancing at the blond, "You're probably really confused about, well, everything."
Stranger: Draco leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest and he nodded. "Yes. Very confused." He said, grateful that the taller man was going to indulge him in some explanations.
You: "Well, to begin will, I don't agree with anything the Ministry is doing," Harry said, "Especially what happened to you and your mother." He shook his head. "I'm just a figurehead." He bit his lip. "I ... eh ... I could hear the screams." He swallowed thickly, putting down the knife. "I tried to stop them, to fight them on that." He pulled his shirt to the side, showing a puckered scar that went from his collarbone, up over his shoulder, and down around the shoulder blade. "The head Auror, Robards, gave me this, so I would remember my place."
Stranger: Draco's eyes widened as Harry revealed the scar to him. So... The ministry wouldn't even listen to their precious Golden Boy who had saved them all from the merciful ruling of Voldemort. Damn. Draco felt heat rise to his cheeks and he looked down at his arms as he realized that the screams Harry had heard were most likely his. After all... He'd been the one who had fought back the hardest out of all the death eaters. Trying to save his mother more so than himself. "I'm... I'm sorry..." He said softly.
You: Harry chuckled, putting his shirt back. "So not your fault," he said, "Also, they wouldn't tell me who would be at each auction. It was luck I stumbled across you." He rubbed his neck. "Um, your mother ..."
Stranger: Draco looked up, a bit hopeful. "My mother... Do... Do you know where she is? Who... Bought her?" Draco asked. It made him sick to even think about it. But he needed to know.
You: Harry nodded, a faint smile on his face. "Yes, Seamus bought her," he said, "She's safe. He bought her for the same reasons I bought you: to protect you. They're in one of old Black properties. And then, he'll move her to the one in Greece." He shrugged shyly. "I thought she'd like the weather and a chance to relax." He rubbed his neck again, a nervous habit. "I was planning on getting you to France. They have the best Potion program at their university. Well, now that I realized you were the Death Eater's healer, their Healer program would be better suited for you."
Stranger: Relief flooded through Draco instantly when he heard that his mother was safe and would be moved to an even safer location soon. Good. "My mother adores Greece." He said softly with a smile, doing his best to hold back the tears that threatened to come to his eyes. "France?" He questioned with a soft chuckle. "You plan on getting me to France? Wouldn't you get into some serious trouble?"
You: Harry grinned mischievously. "Only if they caught me," he answered, holding his hands before his chest in a mock image of prayer, "But since I've been a model Golden Boy since the incident, they have no reason to suspect me. And since this is my inherited property, it falls under goblin law, not Ministry. And the goblins don't care about wars or international borders." He hummed. "That reminds me. You'll probably have access to the Malfoy vaults once in France."
Stranger: Draco raised his eyebrows. That would be helpful. Since he was the heir, once he was in France, he would be able to access everything. "Why... Why would you do this for me?" Draco asked softly, looking down. "I was so terrible to you and your friends in school... I don't deserve the help your giving me..."
You: Harry scoffed. "Draco, that was just a schoolyard rivalry," he said, "And I was just as awful." He scooped up the chopped carrots and celery and dumped them into the pot. "War has a way of changing people
You: 's perspectives."
Stranger: Draco nodded slowly, knowing all to well how easily war could change someone's perspectives. He was certainly not the same person who had gone into the war. Not the same person who had become a death eater at his fathers command, knowing that refusal meant death. "I appreciate it..."
You: He looked at Draco. "The Ministry has the wrong changed perspective." He pointed the laddle at the blond. "Did you know they repealed the law allowing gay wizards and witches to marry, hell, to even be together? They want to make sure the magical population grows, and apparently same sex couples don't encourage that. Like fertility potions don't exist that allow male/male and female/female couples to conceive." He turned back to the soup. "That's why Dean and Seamus joined me."
Stranger: Draco frowned. "That's insane." He said, shaking his head. What in the world was happening to the ministry. "Why would they do that? It's common knowledge that same sex couples are perfectly capable of having children thanks to magic." He said, his voice quiet as he spoke, trying to keep it from hurting too much.
You: Harry shrugged. "Some Anglicans somehow got sway in the Ministry," he said, "Muggles are still rather against same sex couples, because of their religion." He didn't say that one of them was Hermione, with her hidden homophobic ways. She had shown her true colors when Harry had told her he was bisexual. She'd nearly fainted in horror, demanding he go 'pray away the gay'. That had ended his friendship with both her and Ron, since Ron was too lovestruck to argue with her.
Stranger: Draco sighed and shook his head. "This won't last long... The wizarding community is going to give some serious backlash against it I'm sure." He said, rubbing the back of his neck. At least he hoped so. Not many people knew that Draco was gay. His mother knew. Blaise Zabini knew. And Pansy knew. He was sure his father knew, but the elder Malfoy had never brought it up and Draco was fine with that.
You: Harry chuckled bitterly. "Well, a certain know-it-all has sunk her roots deep into the Ministry, and is spreading her hateful views around," he said, "And it's not just gay and lesbian people that are targeted. Anyone not straight is labeled a 'threat' to the next generation." He rubbed his neck. "Oh, Dean got Blaise out. They're in Italy, at the Zabini family manor. Apparently, Blaise is driving Dean up a wall, but he can't leave until Seamus is out of Britain. Then they'll be heading to a Potter property in Denmark." He scrunched up his nose. "Of all the properties, I don't get why they chose the farm in Denmark."
Stranger: Draco was relieved to hear that his closest friend had made it out well and he chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I'm sure Dean is getting on Blaise's nerves just as much." He said, knowing Zabini and his patience all too well. "So then... Did you inherit much of the Black's estates?" He asked curiously, pushing off the wall as the kettle began to boil. "My Aunt Bellatrix had been first in line for the inheritance. Followed by my mother. Then by me." He said, preparing them both a cup of tea. "But i'm sure that Sirius was able to get ahold of some properties. And since my mother and I are both well.., imprisoned..."
You: Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Actually, I got it all," he answered, "It seemed, while lovely Walburga burned Sirius off the family tree, it seemed Orion did have some backbone after all. He did not disown Sirius like his wonderful wife thought. So, the title of Lord Black fell to Sirius when Orion died, like Lord Malfoy will fall to you when Lucius dies in Azkaban." He cringed. "I'm sorry about that, but the man was awful." He shook his head. "Back to the point, when Sirius escaped Azkaban and sneaked passed the Aurors into Gringotts, the goblins alerted him to his inheritance, and Sirius then made a will, naming me his heir." Harry rubbed his neck. "Again, I'm sorry. When we get to France, I can have the title transferred to you, but I can't give you back the properties. They're being used as safe houses for my friends. And yours too. Luna got Pansy out." He scrunched up his nose. "I really wish I could erase what I saw when I made the mistake of floo-calling them."
Stranger: Draco's eyes widened as he drank his tea slowly, listening to Harry speak. "My my. And he never thought to let anyone know about that." He chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't want the title. I was never interested in the Black's inheritance. I have more than I need from the Malfoy inheritance. I'm glad the properties are being put to good use. There are some Malfoy properties we could use as well." He nodded, and frowned. Yes... His father would die in Azkaban. "He may not have been the best man... But he was a good father... He put his family above all else... The only reason he pushed me to take the mark was because the only other option was death." He said softly, shaking his head. "Didn't show it much to the outside world... But he was devoted to my mother and I..."
You: Harry nodded. "There were hints of that. Faint hints, but hints nonetheless," he said, "I'm sorry that he's imprisoned, because he's your father, not because I feel sorry for him." He turned back to the soup, stirring it. "So, anything else you want to know?"
Stranger: "I don't expect you to feel sorry for him." Draco said with a shrug. Lucius was a terrible man. And Draco understood that. He was ruthless. Draco took another drink of his tea and thought for a moment. "Where will I be sleeping while I'm here?" He asked.
You: Harry shrugged. "Pick a bedroom," he said, "There's plenty. And they've all been cleaned of doxys and the like." He shook his head, moving around the kitchen. He opened up a cabinet to get them two bowls. "This house was the headquarters of the Order during the war, and Molly went on a cleaning spree. Made us all help." He shook his head. He missed Molly, but the woman had sided with Ron and Hermione, kicking Harry the metaphorical curb. "Don't worry. I changed the wards. No one but those I can trust can get in."
You: He hummed. "Which at the moment is Luna, Dean, Seamus, Fleur, Bill, and Charlie."
Stranger: Draco bit his lip and he nodded. "Alright. I'll find a room." He said as he watched Harry move about the kitchen, gathering bowls for the soup. It smelled amazing. "Thanks." He said softly, his throat beginning to feel a bit better from the tea.
You: Harry nodded. "You're welcome," he said, "If you want to go lay down, I can send the food up on a tray." He pointed to one leaning against the wall by the fireplace. "Kreature charmed them with the niftiest stasis charm. Anything placed on the tray will stay exactly how it was when placed on it. So you can eat as much as you can, and it will still be good when you feel like eating again later."
Stranger: Draco smiled faintly. "It's alright. I'm fine eating here." He said softly. The chains he'd been in when kept in the ministry didn't permit him much room and he had found himself eating his "meals" lying down on the cold stone floor on more than one occasion. The opportunity to sit at a table and eat was too good to pass up.
You: Harry shrugged. "Whatever you want," he said, "Just keep the trays in mind for later." He dished up the soup, placing one of the bowls in front of the blond. He went and grabbed the bread, placing it between them on its cutting board. He grinned. "Hoepfully, we can get through a meal without being disrupted."
Stranger: Draco nodded and smiled as the soup was placed down in front of him. He cut a piece of bread and took a bite of it, swallowing it before he spoke. "So... Why did you decide you want to help us get out of this situation? You could have it easy. Just let us all die."
You: Harry rubbed his neck, chewed on his bite of bread. "Hero-complex," he said after he swallowed, "And an infallible moral compass. I couldn't just leave you all there. You were just doing what you had to in order to survive. You all didn't have a choice."
Stranger: Draco nodded slowly as he began to eat the soup. "It's true... It's hard to refuse becoming a death eater when one or both of your parents are one. Especially in a pureblood family... Disobedience is not an option really." He sighed, shaking his head.
You: Harry nodded. "Yeah, old Voldy was a mad one. Killing off your followers is not a good practice," he said, letting the conversation lapsed into silence as they ate. Just a few moments later, the floo flashed green, alerting him that someone wanted to come through. "And here comes an interruption," he said, standing up, "Want to place a bet on which crazy woman in my life it will be?" He stood next to the fireplace, waiting on Draco's answer before opening the floo.
Stranger: Draco tensed up as he saw the green flash from the corner of his eye, his mind instantly believing it to be the killing curse. He quickly calmed down when he realized it was just the floo. "My guess would be Granger." He said with a slight shrug, turning to watch Harry.
You: Harry pulled a disgusted face. "No, she's been barred from the wards since she told me to 'pray the gay away', even though I'm not gay. Bisexuality is different." He shook his head as the floo flashed again. "Great, now they're made at me for taking too long. Time to face the music." He tapped the mantel with his wand, and the floo opened. "How dare you, Potter," Pansy nearly screeched as she stepped out of the floo, "Making me wait. I just wanted to see if you'd changed your mind." She wiggled her eyebrows. Harry fake-gagged. "No way in hell will I be in a threesome with you and Luna. You are both so beautiful, but I think of you like sisters. Which would make a threesome /incest/." He pinched the bridge of his nose, waving towards the table. "I have a present for you."
Stranger: Draco frowned as he heard that Hermione and Harry were no longer friends. He was curious about Harry being bisexual however. When Pansy came through the floo, Draco grinned and stood up. He was a bit taken aback by the offer of a threesome and he chuckled from Harry's response. "Pansy." He said happily and walked over to her, embracing her in a hug. "I'm glad you're safe."
You: Harry jumped when someone leaning into his side. "I'm so glad you found him," Luna said dreamily, "Now you can finally tell him how you feel." He smiled softly as he watched the pair of Slytherins embaced, and he absently nodded to what Luna said. Then he registered what she said. "What, no," he sputtered, "I don't have feeling for him. That's crazy." Luna just hummed knowingly.
Stranger: Draco smiled as Pansy returned the embrace and he sighed softly. Good... Both his friends were safe. "And it's nice to know you've gone and got yourself a girlfriend without telling me about her." Draco said with a mock pout. "Remember dear. We talk about /everything/" He said in a dramatic tone, repeating words she'd told him over a year ago, before he smirked at her.
You: Pansy laughed. "Of course, darling," she answered, "Once you're in France. And we're coming with you!" Harry blinked. That was a surprise. He didn't know that that was where Pansy wanted to go. And, he glanced down at Luna, it seemed she would follow the raven-haired Slytherin. Interesting. He looked back up and smiled softly. Well, he would follow his own Slytherin wherever the man wanted. After he quit his job, of course. And made sure all of their affected friends were out of the United Kingdom.
Stranger: "You're coming with me? Brilliant" Draco said with a smile. A genuine, happy smile. "That's incredible. Harry was telling me that the university there has an amazing potions program and a healer program so I can pursue my studies there too." He told her. His eyes widened slightly as he realized he'd used Potters first name on its own.
You: Pansy smirked at him. "The Golden Boy has a way of growing on you, doesn't he?" She looked back at Harry and winked. Harry just shifted uncomfortably, rubbing his neck again. "Stop that," Luna said, pulling his hand away from his neck, "That'll irritate the scar. You're lucky I managed to get it to even heal over."
Stranger: Draco felt his cheeks heat up slightly and he shook his head. "Shut up" He chuckled, his voice still raspy, though the tea was working wonders at restoring it. Draco rubbed at the back of his own neck, a small smile playing on his lips.
You: Harry blushed as Luna scolded him. "Okay, I'll stop," he said. She just raised her eyebrow at him. He had said that before. "It's not my fault it itches," he said defensively. He turned to Pansy. "There's soup on the stove, if you two want some." He motioned towards it. "I have to go feed Buckbeak," he said, bending over to open the mini-icebox he kept the hunks of meat in for the hippogryph.
Stranger: Draco watched Harry for a moment as he remembered Buckbeak and he shuddered a bit at the memory of it. Both from the memory of the Hippogriff attacking him, and at his obnoxious behavior that had caused it to happen and his dramatic cries afterwards. He sighed and shook his head, going back into the kitchen to continue eating.
You: Harry climbed up to the attic, not at all guilty at leaving Draco at the mercy of Luna and Pansy. It was the blond's turn to deal with them. He bowed as he entered, then tossed the meat at Buckbeak. "Good boy," he cooed. When Buckbeak laid down, Harry picked up his notebook and leaned against a feathered side. He then became immersed in the fictional world he had created, spinning tales of glory and loss. The girls knew of his habits.
Stranger: Draco was perfectly fine being left with the girls. He enjoyed conversations with Pansy and Luna? Well Luna seemed to just mold into whatever conversation was happening at the time and Draco was fine with that. He'd never disliked the girl, though he'd never encountered her much.
You: The Floo buzzed again. Luna stood up and opened it. A long haired redhead stepped out, and then offered his hand to a beautiful blonde. A beautiful blonde with a very noticeable baby bump.
Stranger: Draco didn't pay attention to the floo, too enthralled in his conversation with Pansy to focus on anything else. Hearing about everything leading up to their imprisonment and then everything after.
You: "W'ere is 'arry?" the blonde asked, sitting down heavily in a chair. The redhead, her husband, went and fixed her a bowl of soup. "Up with Buckbeak," Luna answered, "He's probably writing."
Stranger: Draco turned his head as they entered the kitchen, looking at the two before he turned back to Pansy, continuing their chat, noting in his head that Harry wrote.
You: Bill nodded. "I'll go up there," he said, "The bird likes me." Fleur scrunched up her nose. It wasn't her fault the Hippogriff reacted badly to her Veela blood. After he left up the stairs, she turned to face the two Slytherins. "You must be Draco," she said.
Stranger: Draco nodded and extended his hand across the table to her. "It's Fleur right?" He asked with a small smile. "I remember you from the tri wizard tournament at Hogwarts."
You: She nodded, shaking his hand. "Yes, that's w'ere I met 'arry," she said, "And my 'usband, Bill."
Stranger: "Bill Weasley?" Draco asked and looked off in the direction the taller man had gone in. He'd heard a lot about the eldest Weasley brother but he'd never actually met the man in person. "Congrats on the marriage." He smiled.
You: She grinned. "T'ank you," she answered, then frowned, "But your Ministry was not 'appy about it. Firstly, I'm a foreigner. And secondly, I'm part-'creature'.
You: 'ow darn they! My fat'er is very important in the French Ministry."
Stranger: "Our Ministry is a joke." Draco said with a sigh, shaking his head. "They haven't been making very good decisions lately." He frowned. "I'm sorry if they gave you any trouble over it."
You: She shrugged. "T'ey don't know I'm 'ere," she said, "Or t'at I'm pregnant. Bill asked to be transferred back to Egypt, so we are moving t
You: 'ere. We've been staying with my parents."
Stranger: Draco frowned. This was getting out of hand... It didn't sit well with him that they had to hide the fact that she was here and pregnant. "Hopefully they transfer him soon. It seems like a lot of us are leaving as well."
You: She nodded, rubbing the side of her stomach. "Yes, it is just about done," she said, "We'll be t
You: 'ere w'en she comes."
Stranger: "Congratulations on a baby girl." Draco said with a grin as he looked over at her. "I'm sure your both eager to get out of the United Kingdom."
You: She nodded again, then slapped her hand on the table. "Yes, but enough of t'at talk," she said with a grin, "So, you are Draco? T'e Draco 'arry
You: 'as been lamented about for weeks?"
Stranger: Draco felt himself blush deeply and he rubbed the back of his neck with a small smile as he heard that Harry had been lamenting over him. "Yes. I'm Draco." He said.
You: She grinned. "You are very 'andsome," she said, "Just like 'arry said." Luna frowned. "I don't think Harry would want you tell Draco that. He wants to tell Draco of his feelings in his own time."
Stranger: Draco raised his eyebrows and he looked between the two women. Harry had said he was handsome? And... had feelings toward him. It only made the blush on his cheeks grow deeper.
You: Pansy cackled. "You are so cute when you blush," she said, reaching out to pinch one of Draco's bright red cheeks.
Stranger: "Shut it" Draco chuckled and swatted at her hand, shaking his head. "I'm not blushing." He said defiantly, trying to will the blush to leave his cheeks.
You: Fleur grinned. "Yes you are," she said, then turned to Luna, "If I don't give 'im a push, 'arry will never act on
You: 'is feelings. You know 'ow
You: 'e gets."
You: [I need to go to bed, because it's late and I have work in the morning. Continue over email?]
Stranger: (Sounds good. What's your email?)
You: [ ]
Stranger: (Just sent it.)
You: [Got it!!!]
You: [Good night!!]
You have disconnected.
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