#and the reason she made a deal with alecto or some sort

[spectrum-color]

***Locked Tomb spoilers***

There’s something so creepy about Alecto. At first it seems like a funny gag, “hahaha Jod put half the soul of the Earth into a living Barbie.” Then you realize that he’s the one who threw a fit destroyed the earth, and he consumed as much of it as he could to give himself incredible powers, then he stuffed the rest into a replica of a doll. He also brought back his friends, all smart, accomplished people, only he wiped their minds and gave them new identities, making them serve him as god and savior of humanity and forcing half of them to needlessly kill the other half, and when Alecto started to cause problems (in ways I suspect may have had to do with her telling Anastasia the truth) he locked her away. When you read that, you realize that the whole empire is a game he plays and the lyctors are his favorite toys, and suddenly the choice to model Alecto off a doll was very deliberate.

[birlwrites]

scrapbook snippet: define 'carburetor'

i tried lots of possible beginnings for ttdl. this is one of the ones i scrapped pretty quickly (aside from a few lines you might recognize that made it into ttdl), then kept writing because it was fun. read on for: megan gleefully causing problems, regulus passing out shovels so everyone can help him dig his own grave, and evan committing acts of violence! it's about 2.3k

*

Regulus's plan, such as it is, first begins to go off the rails in the common room after dinner.

It starts, as many things do, with second-year Megan Fleming. She's a half-blood, which isn't unheard of in Slytherin, but half-bloods with one Muggle parent as opposed to one Muggleborn are unusual. Severus Snape has dealt with being unusual by worming his way into the pack of bullies in the upper years. Megan deals with it by punching people who insult her father in the face. Regulus frequently wonders if the Sorting Hat considered Gryffindor for her.

This wouldn't ordinarily be Regulus's concern—Megan can handle herself perfectly well, and it's not like she needs upper-years to come to her defense against the likes of her yearmate Gina Crabbe. However, two things have happened this year that make it his concern. First of all, he became a prefect. Second of all, Megan made the Slytherin quidditch team as Hogwarts' most deceptively-harmless-looking Beater, and as a result, Regulus has a vested interest in keeping her safe and uninjured. (He can't keep her out of detention. There are some things not even the Blacks can do.)

Megan, of course, knows that Regulus quietly looks out for her and seems to revel in making this difficult for him, as evidenced by how she climbs on top of a table and says at the top of her lungs, "Until any of you can tell me how a car works, I don't give a single shit how magical your stupid grandparents are!"

If she'd said it more quietly, maybe it wouldn't have become a problem.

But she says it loudly enough that the pack of bullies sitting in the corner looks up.

"Is that so," seventh-year Amycus Carrow sneers.

The common room falls dead silent.

Amycus Carrow has a very specific reason to dislike Megan, namely that he was playing Beater for Slytherin until this year, when going on academic probation meant that he was kicked off all his extracurriculars. Megan has his old position, and to be perfectly honest, she's a better player than he is. (Her mother being an assistant coach for the Montrose Magpies has a lot to do with that.) It's not a good reason for him to dislike her, but it is a potent one.

Megan stands her ground. Or rather, her table. "Define 'carburetor.'"

Now seems like a great time for Regulus to get involved.

He can either try to deescalate the conflict (unlikely, neither Carrow nor Megan have ever deescalated anything in their lives), or he can redirect it towards himself instead of towards Megan. Regulus is much, much better equipped to withstand the bullies' ire than Megan is, so that makes the choice easy.

There are a lot of ways he could try to make Carrow switch focus to him instead.

But there's only one that's sufficiently outrageous to make sure the bullies forget all about Megan.

"She has a point," he says, loudly enough for everyone in the common room to hear him, quietly enough that it doesn't sound like he's trying too hard. "I also don't care how magical your grandparents are, Carrow."

And for a brief moment, Regulus thinks it will end there, in confused silence.

It does not.

"Are you kidding me?" sixth-year Julius Mulciber says. "Black, I'd expect better from you of all people."

"Intriguing," Regulus says. "I'll be sure to take that into account as soon as I've figured out why your expectations matter."

Charlotte Yaxley, the other fifth-year prefect, is frowning. "I mean... Regulus, you heard what you just said, right?"

"Are you implying I'd say anything without thinking it through first? Have I ever done that, Charlotte?"

"Nah, he's right," seventh-year Alecto Carrow says. "The three-generations rule lets someone with four mudblood grandparents call themselves pureblood. I say six generations back is the one that matters."

Regulus makes sure every word is crisp and clear enough to cut through the muttering that has started to build in the common room. "What a creative interpretation. However, that is not what I meant."

Evan Rosier snickers. For Barty's sake, Regulus hopes he isn't about to say something awful. Not that Evan ever really says anything awful—he's excellent at avoiding saying anything of substance, actually. But Regulus has his own room this year since he's a prefect, which means the fifth-year boys' dorm is just Barty and Evan, and Regulus would prefer if Barty didn't get into fights with someone who can easily access where he sleeps.

"Something to contribute, Rosier?" Amycus Carrow says.

He smiles broadly. "No, nothing in particular. I'm just amused. By all means, continue."

"Continuing seems like a bad idea," sixth-year prefect Cora Shacklebolt says. "Do we really have to get into a house-wide fight on the first night back? Can't we at least wait until we don't have classes the next day?"

"We do have to get into it," her yearmate Sophia Warrington says. "Because it sounds like Black's admitting to being a tad bit more like his disgraced dipshit of a brother than his parents would prefer."

Geoff Pucey, seventh-year captain of the quidditch team and Warrington's boyfriend, frowns at her. "Soph, that's harsh."

"Don't talk around it," Regulus says. "My parents would have you thrown out for daring to imply that you're in their confidence, but I'll permit it just this once. What precisely do we have to get into, Warrington?"

"I don't know why you're all so surprised," Amycus Carrow says. "Black's been championing Fleming since she showed up, and she practically wears a sign with 'pro-mudblood' on it."

"Rude," Barty says. "I don't appreciate being forgotten about, Carrow. Or is it the Muggle father you're objecting to and not the blood traitor ideas? Because if that's the problem, then I have some bad news for you about your friend Snape. Or follower. Whatever he is to you, I don't actually know what's going on there."

"Black, muzzle your guard dog," Amycus Carrow says.

"Okay, seriously," Cora Shacklebolt says. "Do we have to fuel our reputation of being the mean house?"

"We are the mean house," Evan says cheerfully. "It keeps life interesting."

"We don't coddle people, Shacklebolt," Mulciber says.

"Is that so?" Heather Brown says. "Because you cried in first year when I figured out material transfiguration before you and got mad when I didn't apologize for hurting your feelings."

"Oh, so now the Light scion is going to preach to us?" Alecto Carrow says.

"I'm pointing out the rampant hypocrisy." She shrugs. "Not exactly preaching."

"Speaking of hypocrisy, can we get back to Black being a blood traitor?" Warrington says.

"How's that hypocritical?" Brown says. "He didn't choose his parents. Much like Muggleborns. And I'll remind you that you're not Sacred Twenty-Eight, Sophia, so your opinion on whether it's hypocritical for us to support Muggleborns is not just unnecessary, it's irrelevant."

Regulus has already started digging his own grave. He might as well finish the job. "Brown's right. In fact, as people with centuries of proven magical ancestry, we're particularly well-equipped to discuss whether it means anything. Given that people like the Carrows can be Sacred Twenty-Eight, I'm of the opinion that it doesn't."

Both of the Carrow twins get up from their seats then, faces twisted. Regulus smiles pleasantly at them and waits. He can take whatever they throw at him, especially since Barty will jump into a fight with him if possible.

But Evan Rosier gets there first and plants himself in the twins' way. He's still smiling like he's having the time of his life, but his voice is firm. "No brawling. What are we, Gryffindors?"

"Once a Rosier, always a Rosier, huh?" fifth-year Maeve Bulstrode says.

He grins at her. "Yep. It's in my blood to stop fights before they break out. Admittedly, usually I'm dealing with belligerently drunk party guests, not my sober housemates, but I'm finding that the skill set is similar."

"This isn't one of your stupid parties," Alecto Carrow says.

"Hm." Evan pretends to consider that. "You know what? House Carrow's banned from all Rosier properties and events, and our wards do a wonderful job of keeping you out, so I think you might be right about that."

Amycus Carrow tries to push past him, but Evan casually gets in his way. "Want to know one big, important way that Hogwarts isn't like a Rosier party? Besides permitting Carrows inside, of course."

"Enlighten us, please," Antony Flint, the other sixth-year prefect, says. (Next to him, Cora Shacklebolt sighs.)

Evan's smile gets, if anything, wider. "I don't have to be nice to all of you."

Then he punches Amycus Carrow in the face.

"Holy shit," Barty says.

"Holy shit!" Megan says, significantly louder. "Kick his arse, Evan!"

"Hm?" Evan shakes out his hand. "Oh, sorry, Megan. I don't brawl. That was just for fun."

Things descend into chaos after that.

*

Regulus stays in the common room long enough to ensure that everyone has either successfully fled or gone back to gossiping with their friends. Then he retreats to the safety of his own room, where he can evaluate what just happened and what's likely to happen next as a result.

Or that's what he plans to do, anyway. His plans are disrupted by Barty emerging from his and Evan's room, grabbing Regulus by the arm, and yanking him inside.

He is confronted with... quite a lot of people.

"And so Heir Black finally graces us with his presence," Maeve says. "I'd like to ask politely—what the fuck was that?"

"It was great, is what it was." Megan's still grinning. "Regulus, you should start fights more often."

"I didn't start anything," Regulus says. "You got on a table and Evan broke Amycus Carrow's nose."

Evan looks up from his bruised knuckles with an air of vague interest. "I did? Cool."

As long as they're asking the question of 'what the fuck was that,' Regulus would really like to know what was going through Evan's head at that moment, but he doesn't ask. Getting a straight answer out of Evan Rosier is near impossible under the best of circumstances. It'll never happen with this many witnesses around.

Regulus takes a look around the room. Most of the members of his Dark Arts study group have found their way here, along with Megan and Emma Vanity (fifth-year and Evan's best friend).

"I'd've clocked Carrow myself, but he never got close enough," Megan says. "I could've managed it since I was standing on the table."

"Can you not pick fights with seventh-years?" Geoff Pucey says. (Warrington is nowhere in sight.) "The Carrows are nasty. They won't hold back just because you're younger than them."

She scowls at him, lower lip jutting out. "They'd better not."

"I'm just glad Amycus is off the quidditch team this year," Emma says. "Otherwise practice would be really awkward."

"It was awkward enough with him and Kingsley on the same team last year," sixth-year Thomas Travers says. (He and Megan are the strangest Beater pair at Hogwarts—Thomas is about twice as wide as she is and a head and shoulders taller.) "Speaking of quidditch, did anyone see where Theophania vanished to? She's not in here, is she?"

"Nope," Emma says.

"I saw her go back to her room shortly after Evan became the center of attention," Regulus says. Theophania Nott is Kingsley Shacklebolt's replacement, Slytherin's third-year Keeper, and hates conflict off the quidditch pitch with a burning passion. "Why are all of you in here, anyway?"

"To talk to you," seventh-year prefect Priam Parkinson says. "What's going on? Have you lost your mind? Things like that."

"I haven't lost anything except my patience. I'm bored of letting them think I agree with them."

"Bored?" fifth-year Lucinda Talkalot says. "Mulciber not having it out for you is boring?"

"Yep," Barty says. "Excruciatingly so."

"They'll be after me and Evan now," Regulus says. "And Megan, but that's nothing new, I suppose."

"Definitely not," Megan chirps.

"So if anyone wants, hypothetically speaking, to make it clear that they don't buy into blood purity..." Regulus looks around the room and lets the significance of his words settle. "Now is the time."

"Question," Emma says. "What are you getting out of this?"

"I can get away with this. Slughorn will side with me, and my parents are convinced it's an insult for me to serve anyone, much less someone without proven pure blood." Well. They will be convinced, once Regulus gets around to having that conversation with them. "I'm not joining the Death Eaters. As for what I get out of it, I won't lie. I'm making myself into a shield because I think it's about time House Black found a new type of ally."

"I think I might be offended," Evan says idly.

"I'm not talking about severing ties with House Rosier. I'm not stupid." They have a reputation for being shallow and frivolous, thinking more about garden parties than the Wizengamot, but the main line are raised to be shrewd and manipulative under a veneer of vacuous smiles and expensive champagne. Uncle Cygnus's marriage to Aunt Druella means that House Black and House Rosier are allied, but Cygnus and Druella are both from cadet branches. The families could be tied closer. Like, for example, if Evan, their heir, found his way into the third side Regulus is assembling.

"So House Black's taking an anti-blood purity stance?" Priam Parkinson says skeptically. "Your parents agreed to that?"

"We're taking an anti-Voldemort stance."

Nobody calls him Voldemort out loud, which means that when Regulus does, everyone in the room freezes momentarily.

Regulus pauses to let them wrap their heads around it, then continues. "My parents and I have different reasoning, but we can agree on that, at least."

Or rather, they will, once Regulus forces his parents' hands into it.

[daturanerium]

i've been thinking about griddlehark recently, especially since i've listened to the gideon audiobook for the first time. i love them lots! but i had forgotten just how terrible harrow was to gideon in the beginning, and how blindly devoted gideon was to harrow (even when they were mortal enemies). i'm not sure if i'd be happy with them becoming canon without completely addressing that, so i'm going to talk about what i would like to see happen in alecto to deal with the power imbalance.

as someone who's been in a very similar position to gideon (being a punching bag to someone i'm devoted to out of love) i can speak from experience when i say that it sucks. i currently do not have much of a relationship with that person anymore, but gideon clearly wants to pursue one with harrow--whether that be platonic or romantic.

right now griddlehark are suffering from a severe power imbalance with harrow coming out on top. even during htn, harrow made choices for gideon without consulting her first or considering how it would affect her (mainly the lobotomy, which clearly bothered gideon based on how she talked about it in act five--or rather, didnt). harrow tormented gideon for her entire life. i feel like people tend to brush over this or treat it as a child's rivalry instead of treating it as it was (or how i read it to be): constant, unrelenting abuse. harrow canonically tried to kill gideon multiple times throughout their childhood. by the time we reach gtn, it almost seems like tormenting gideon is a game for harrow, considering the way she handled gideon's escape attempt. she pulled it away at the very last second for no other reason (that we know of) than to make gideon feel the worst. obviously we know now that harrow is fucked up in her own way. growing up mostly without parents, with incredibly high expectations based around being a literal war crime and the only surviving necromancer in the royal line, she's desperate to find and cling onto any control she can get over anything and anyone. she's gone through an incredible amount of character development within the last two books. i'm a huge fan of that! i think it's very safe to say that harrow cares about gideon as an equal and wants her friendship--the entirety of htn is basically a tragic love letter to her. but that doesn't make the lasting impact of how she acted go away.

on the other hand, gideon has apparently always been devoted to harrow: on page 332 of gtn she says that she was "hungry for the Reverend Daughter's occupation" in her youth, and strongly implies that she endured harrow's ceaseless beatings and torment because it was the only thing gideon received other than people blindly hating her or ignoring her. harrow was fascinated and obsessed with her in a terrible, violent way, but at least it was something. this is, of course, worsened after gideon walks in on harrow after The Incident. that, mixed with the overhanging inherent power imbalance of gideon being harrow's/the locked tomb's indentured servant since birth, means that gideon has never known a life free of harrow's control over her. being devoted to harrow is gideon's norm--she's literally never known anything different. and, on top of that, she's never expected anything in return. hoped, maybe, but never expected. gideon tries to leave but is stopped every time by harrow; the only way gideon is able to experience her first bout of "independence" is through caanan house, which was an opportunity given to her by harrow. harrowhark has been a constant in gideon's life since she was one year old. gideon relied on her for some semblance of normalcy and a twisted form of recognition. gideon goes through a lot of character development in caanan house as well, and we get to watch her and harrow start to deconstruct their corrupted relationship and reform it into something better and healthier. but even then, gideon still ends up making the ultimate sacrifice for "the Ninth": aka harrow, since she states not five pages before that she doesn't actually care about the Ninth at all and is only doing this for her (that is open to interpretation, but i think it's safe to say that gideon's main reason for jumping was to save harrow regardless of how you interpret her last words). later, at the end of htn, gideon still doesn't expect much from harrow in return. "harrowhark, i gave you my whole life and you didn't even want it." comes to mind. it's not about whether or not the statement is true, it's about what gideon believes based on harrow's past actions. the idea of harrow refusing gideon's sacrifice is more believable to her than harrow succumbing to her grief. i'm not even sure if gideon knows about the lobotomy. if someone told her, would she believe them?

so, right now, we have one person desperate for control and the other hopelessly devoted to a fault. both harrow and gideon are far different women now than they were at the beginning of gtn! they're in the middle of their character arcs right now. here's how i would like to see griddlehark rekindle their relationship in a healthy way:

gideon spends a lot of time harrow-free. she learns what life is like without harrow present. she gets to discover herself without harrow there. gideon still cares about harrow, obviously, and will spend time trying to find and reconnect with her. i hope that in the meantime she gets to find herself as an individual! she needs to see that she is more than just "harrow's mortal enemy" or "harrow's cavalier". she is someone outside of her relationship with harrow, whatever that relationship may be. when she reunites with harrow, i hope that it's a choice that gideon makes, not because harrow asks for her.

when reunited, harrow takes full responsibility and accountability for her past actions against gideon. this has sort of happened, but only in the sense of harrow's self-loathing: she gets angry during the pool scene in gtn, but that's based around "i was awful to you, why are you being kind to me"; not really an apology. later, she asks gideon if she forgives her and gideon says yes--but harrow never apologized. in my opinion, no forgiveness is true if there's no apology. i'd like to see harrow fully recognize her past actions--and, more specifically, how they affected gideon. she's focused a lot on how they impacted herself, but even in the pool scene (as much as i love it) gideon's feelings were mostly sidelined. by harrow taking accountability, both of them can continue their path to healing and growing their relationship. (also, harrow Officially releasing gideon from her duty to the locked tomb as an indentured servant would be really nice. i know with everything going on it's technically moot but i think it would still mean a lot, especially on the road to equalizing their relationship)

gideon and harrow acting as equal partners! we caught the beginnings of this in the second half (especially the end) of gtn, but they haven't really had a chance to flesh (heh) it out since. i'm really looking forward to that!

i really love these characters. they're some of my favorites, ever--and that's saying something, because i've read a lot of books. harrow especially has had some of the most enjoyable character development i've read in a long time. we're in the middle of the series and there's still lots of loose ends to tie up! i just hope this is one of them.

[writesowhatnext]

can I get that in writing? // seamus finnigan

Summary: Slytherin!reader has a little crush on Gryffindor’s favourite Irishman. Unbeknownst to her, the feelings are very much mutual. Not the best timing though, is it? With a war going on and all.

Request: I adored your writing and was wondering if you'd write for Seamus Finnigan with a Slytherin reader the angst/fluff prompts of 44. “You’ve always felt like home.”?

A/N: I actually had no idea where to start with this bc I had a general vibe I wanted to aim for but couldn’t figure out where to beginnn, sort of pleased with how it turned out though

Reader: female

Warnings: spoilers I suppose? Mentions of the battle of Hogwarts, abuse, the Carrows, injury, sewing I guess??

You couldn’t come up with a good enough reason to justify your crush. It wasn’t without effort on your part, either. You’d lost a good deal of sleep and favour with your teachers during sixth year for how distracted you were by the whole ordeal; as if their best student dipping a little was their biggest fish to fry with a war on the horizon. If you were to make a pros and cons list of crushing on Seamus Finnigan, there were no pros. Just cons. Only cons. He was a Gryffindor, for a start, if that wasn’t enough. He was also completely incapable of performing any magic without somehow blowing something up. And he swore like a sailor. And he had those annoying Gryffindor traits of never thinking anything through ever and not having even a single ounce of self-preservation. And it was hardly time for a crush. But he was Seamus. And, Merlin, was he funny – especially when his potions were disastrous. He was brave too. He’d been part of Dumbledore’s Army, so you’d heard, before the Umbridge fiasco. Bugger having feelings.

To say you knew each other would be a stretch: you knew of each other. You shared some classes and he hung around Harry Potter so you’d seen him around because, obviously, Harry Potter. The first time you’d spoken to him, actually, was in sixth year. You’d seen him from afar before then, of course. What, with his tendency to get explosive. But after disagreeing with Draco Malfoy on a shockingly Potter-related incident (he had said Potter was an awful seeker, you merely recalled statistics), you were temporarily shunned by many members of Slytherin – as if you hadn’t been already for being a halfblood. And so, you became a lone wolf in many subjects for a short time near the end of the year. You hadn’t intended to strike up a conversation with your crush; it had just sort of happened, but thinking back, you were grateful. You’d watched from the bench opposite Seamus, in Potions, as he attempted to brew an Alihotsy draught.

He was hopeless. With him throwing ingredients in without much regard, you were more than surprised that the potion hadn’t exploded. Thirty seconds later, it did. His hair stuck up away from his face, his eyes wide and green dust all over his skin. You didn’t mean to laugh, and certainly not maliciously, but you couldn’t escape your giggle at his frazzled and frustrated expression. He looked up at you at first with angry, embarrassed eyes: he saw your tie, heard you laugh and immediately took a disliking. Then he remembered something he’d heard from Parvati about you defending Harry to Malfoy. He also noticed how pretty you were when you laughed. And so, he laughed back.

“Not my finest.” He said to you, almost bashfully.

“Not your worst.” You replied with a teasing smile.

And that’s when you- sort of- became friends.

You didn’t speak to him for a while after that. You smiled in corridors, though, and across classrooms. And the great hall during meals. You’d hoped after so long that your crush might disappear, but it only grew. You knew how he felt about Slytherins and honestly, you weren’t too fond of Gryffindors either. So, it’s not like you held out a lot of hope for the two of you: you both had your houses’ reputations to upkeep. Reputations became irrelevant, though, after the Battle of the Astronomy Tower. You’d seen friends of your parents and your friends’ parents hurt in that; fighting on the wrong side. And even though he was the head of your house, Snape’s new post as Headmaster after Dumbledore’s death did not sit well with you. To say Seamus was far from the forefront of your mind through this would be an understatement.

You did think of him, though, when you started seeing DA slogans on the walls at Hogwarts. Slytherin became a hard place to be in seventh year; especially if you disagreed with You-Know-Who, even subtly. The treatment of muggleborns made you sick and you knew you had to do something. Anything. Your fear stopped you to start with: you saw what the Carrows were doing. Practising curses on students had your heart in bits and most Slytherins didn’t speak to you, either too scared or too blinded with power and hatred. Hearing about Neville Longbottom, a wizard you didn’t know well who appeared to be the spearhead of the movement after Harry Potter’s disappearance, being persecuted was what made you snap. You began to speak out against the use of unforgivable curses on students for detention. You didn’t turn up to the muddle studies class – unable to sit through the lies Alecto Carrow sprouted.

They beat you more for being a Slytherin than they had any of the other rebelling students and you knew if you didn’t hide, you wouldn’t last. You couldn’t leave Hogwarts - your parents were on the run for being muggle and blood traitor. Being one of the more astute Slytherins, you knew where everything was in the castle. You guessed that the Room of Requirement would give you some salvation at the least. You didn’t expect to see the DA hiding out there, but you were grateful for your luck. When you walked into the room to see a dozen missing Hogwarts students shocked to see you, you realised that being in Slytherin at a time like this was truly being stuck between a rock and a hard place; distrust wherever you went. You recognised people from all houses but your own. It took seconds before their wands were pointed at you and through his bruises, you recognised Neville Longbottom at the forefront.

“I’m here to help.” You said, hands in the air, wand tucked away. “I just want to help.”

“How can we trust you?” a voice shouted from the back.

“Look at my face.” You said, fully aware of your split lip and the purple-coloured skin around your eye. “I’ve been fighting this just like you.”

“But you’re a Slytherin.” Another voice called out.

You looked around them almost desperately, knowing you’d probably be killed if you went back to the dungeon. You recognised Seamus despite his bruised face; you couldn’t help but offer him a small smile.

“That didn’t stop them.”

There was a deafening silence.

“I say she stays.”

You looked up at Seamus, somewhat shocked. You didn’t expect him to vouch for you. He shot you a half-smile, turning to the rest of the group. “We’ve all taken beatings for the cause.”

To say you were accepted into the army with open arms would be a falsehood of massive proportion. Whilst nobody was rude, they were all wary; though, it was a great deal warmer than the chilly atmosphere of the Slytherin dungeon. One day in early April, there was shouting from the entrance of the room. Two boys were dragging a third in over their shoulders. Neville, the boy on the left, was shouting.

“I need help, now!”

You went over to see what you could do, a few others following. A circle formed around the boy. His face was bloodied and unrecognisable and for a second, you worried that you hadn’t seen Seamus around today. But that didn’t matter. Whoever it was needed help. You bent down in front of him, aware of dozens of pairs of suspicious eyes on you, and took out your wand. A simple spell your father had taught you to make cleaning your room a lot easier erased the blood from his features and you couldn’t help the lump in your throat when you saw Seamus’ face.

“I can fix him.” You said quickly, looking up at Neville. He, too, was bruised from whatever they’d been doing. You just stared at each other for a moment as he debated trusting you. He didn’t speak, only nodded.

“I need a needle and thread.”

You pulled Seamus’ head into your lap, looking at a deep gash on his forehead.

“What happened?”

A Hufflepuff girl dropped a first-aid kit next to you; you made an effort to smile at her in thanks. Neville said down in front of you and watched you work. The rest of the army dissipated, either to leave you to it or cause more havoc elsewhere.

“We were writing on the walls. The Carrows found us. Seamus fell and hit his head when they stupefied him.”

You nodded, beginning to sew the gash shut. Neville watched you closely. You didn’t take it personally. When you were finished, you held the needle in your mouth, tying off the end of the thread.

“How do you know how to do that?” Neville asked, looking you in the eye for the first time.

“My mum’s a nurse. A muggle nurse.”

“Your mum’s a muggle?”

You nodded, smiling slightly as you brushed Seamus’ hair back from his face.

“He fancied you, you know.” You looked up at Neville, frowning. “He wouldn’t shut up about you last year.”

You huffed a laugh. “I fancied him too.”

You were surprised to see Neville smiling at you. Maybe you’d made a friend after all.

You stayed awake all night, waiting for Seamus to wake up. You were sat by his bed, back against it as he slept peacefully. It must’ve been the early hours of the morning when you felt eyes on you. You weren’t sure you were still awake but you could hear birds outside somewhere and figured you had better things to dream about. You turned around to see Seamus sat up slightly, watching you. Neither of you spoke. He sat up with a groan, squeezing his eyes shut and holding his head.

“Easy there.” You said softly, offering him some of the water you’d placed near him. You barely thought about the way you instinctively placed your hand on his back or the brush of his fingertips against your own.

“What happened?”

“Neville said you took a nasty fall after being stupefied.”

He groaned.

“He also said you fancied me.”

“Christ,” he said, rubbing his head as you sat back down, smirking. “A man gets stupefied once and all his secrets come out.”

“So, it’s true?”

“Blimey.” He muttered.

“Because if it is, that’s quite convenient.”

He frowned, his muttering stopping after a second. He looked at you, clearly confused.

“I had quite the crush too.”

“Had?”

You didn’t reply, only smiling as you grabbed his arm and pushed him back down to get some rest.

“You’ll be here when I wake up, I suppose?”

“Nowhere else to be.”

And that’s when you became sort-of more than friends.

Though there were much more pressing matters leading up to Battle of Hogwarts and lots of much bigger feelings, you and Seamus enjoyed what you had going. You never talked about it explicitly though, not really. You laughed together, a lot, and he was constantly teasing you. You returned the favour though with your fair share of flirting. You bandaged each other up whenever you needed to and he even introduced you with pride when Harry Potter finally returned. You were happy about that, of course, but you knew Potter returning would mean something big.

And you were right.

That’s why you were currently running down a corridor after Professor McGonagall in a desperate attempt to find Seamus. You pushed through some other students to reach the front doors.

“Boom!” McGonagall said, Neville on her left and Seamus on her right. As you got closer, you saw her gesturing to the Wooden Bridge; no doubt she was hoping destroying the bridge would stall the invasion.

“Wicked,” Neville said, as you pushed behind another student. “But how are we gonna do that?”

You were right behind Seamus, reaching out your hand to grab his arm.

“Why don't you confer with Mr Finnigan? As I recall, he has a particular proclivity for pyrotechnics.”

“I can bring it down!” Seamus insisted, moving away from you unknowingly.

“Seamus!” you called out, following him, Ginny Weasley and Neville towards the bridge. He stopped, waiting impatiently for you to catch up with a frown on his face. You were acutely aware of the sounds around you, the battle already underway.

“You have to be safe,” you said, now face to face. “You need to get home safe.” You smiled slightly. “Back to your ‘mam’”

He just stared at you for a moment, a smile twitching at his lips. And then he leant forward, very slowly, and kissed your lips. A short and sweet kiss that made your heart sing.

“You’ve always felt like me’ home.” He said, smiling and tilting his head to the side. You stared at each other for a moment longer before Neville interrupted, hurrying the moment along impatiently, reluctantly.

“They’ll be more where that came from when I get back,” Seamus said, walking backwards away from you. “Believe me.”

[narcissasdaffodil]

48 for drabbles, Marisol x MC <3

48: I called you at 2am because I need you

So I lost the prompt list but I’m going to take these from another one, hopefully that’s fine x Also, I hit 200k fic wise, so I’m posting a little something extra from my drafts x

Alecto had decided to visit Abby for 2 weeks in Los Angeles. She had decided to go on a whim after winning Love Island with Marisol earlier in the summer, but it being so incredibly last minute meant she had to leave Marisol behind in the UK.

Abby was still the same as ever, just as obsessed with rare bookshops, coffee and trying out new things. They hadn’t seen each other for years, but appeared to catch up in no time. Abby was writing music and pursuing her dreams, uni was definitely the wrong choice for her all those years ago.

Abby had managed to secure tickets for the Dodie concert, and they were just returning back to the apartment, arms laden with food and drinks. Both of them were high off adrenaline and happiness, their throats were sore from singing at the top of their lungs. Surprisingly, there was an actual queue for takeout food, and they had got delayed. Alecto always left her phone on silent, and had no real need for it throughout the night, apart from taking photos with Abby and experimenting at taking more types of photos. Photography was a passion for her, and she had gained some great shots. She would never do it for a career, her dream was to be a doctor so she followed her destiny there.

She rested her box of food, and her tiny bag on the side table, leaving her phone face up next to it, sitting cross legged on the couch and starting to tuck into her burger. Abby sat next to her, both of them focused on their food. The apartment was silent as they ate, both of them ravenous after the concert. Long hair started to slide out of the clip, making its way down Alecto’s shoulders.

Abby finished her food first, despite starting later, and removed the large hair clip from Alecto’s hair, pushing it out of her way and putting the clip safely on the side table. She heard a loud beep, and retrieved her phone from the table, her eyes drawn to the light coming from Alecto’s phone as she grabbed her own phone.

“Looks like someone keeps trying to reach you there, might be a good idea to check it.” She said, curling up and resting her phone on her knees, checking it.

Alecto nodded, giving her a thumbs up. Her mouth was full with burger, and she was always a very neat eater. She finished her mouthful and set down the empty box, retrieving her phone. She checks the time, noticing it was 2am. Her phone lit up again, and started to ring, Marisol’s name and picture on the display. Wait. Why has she texted you so many times? You do hope she’s okay.

Alecto pressed answer, putting her phone on speaker and turning the volume up.

“Hello?” Marisol sounded unsure, and her voice kept wobbling.

“Hello, are you okay? It’s 2am, but it’s fine.”

“I’m sorry... Forgot about the time difference, it’s 10am here. I haven’t been able to sleep at all, it’s been worrying me. But I don’t want to keep you up.” Marisol’s voice breaks slightly, not as sure of herself as she usually was.

“We came back from a concert not too long ago, we’ve only just had time to have food. That doesn’t matter though, if you need to talk it’s completely fine.” Alecto’s voice was soft and soothing, the sugar and energy from the concert forgotten. She hoped she could do the thing that Marisol did for her: being able to soothe her with just simple words and a warm hand.

“I’ve just been stressed about starting my second year of uni. It’s still a bit off yet, but I’m still nervous. And I struggle to sleep usually, but it’s different with you there, I can actually sleep properly. I kept waking up throughout the night, until I just gave up. I forgot what it was like to struggle to sleep, even though we haven’t been together for long at all. Sadie has been helping though, she loves me quite a lot currently. It’s surprising how much I miss you, and feels so silly.” Her voice sounded watery and kept shaking, getting considerably quieter. Alecto had to strain her ears slightly to hear, and turned up the volume on her phone.

“Do you want to have regular phone calls before you go to bed until I’m back? Will that maybe help a bit with the sleep issues? Also it isn’t silly! The same happened to me, when Abby first moved, and when I first went to uni. My sleeping pattern went out of the window a bit. When you care about someone and love them, it’s understandable to miss them if they’re not there with you constantly. I’m glad Sadie is a good stand in for me though, it’s a miracle she loves you as much as me! That’s so rare, you must be a cat whisperer or something.” Alecto heard a teary and snotty laugh on the other end, and grinned.

“If it’s not too much of a bother, that would be lovely. It’s surprising that I’m actually upset hearing your voice on the phone. I never got homesick when I first left home in the slightest, I was so independent from my family in general that I didn’t really miss them when I left. But you...it’s different. You care about me so much, you’re my safe space, my home. Sadie has been amazing company though, having her has helped a little. I’m not sure if part of my issue here is that...I don’t really have many friends in uni, or in general. I’ve never felt overly lonely, but for some reason, now I do.”

“Not actually surprising. When I first heard my dad’s voice on the phone, I did get pretty upset. Aww, the fact you feel that way about me does warm my heart. I guess if you’ve always been an outcast, it’s hard to deal with other people being different and actually having friends. I was the same when I first got closer to Abby, having two very toxic friends landed me with a shed load of issues and took a lot of courage to let them go. So finally having a healthy friendship and healthy family relationships was strange. But once you find your own friends, you’ll be okay. I understand that scares you, and you prefer to cut yourself off instead and stay at a distance, using the analysis thing as a defence mechanism but I hope that you’ll stop relying on it so heavily with me by your side. You’re not alone either, you still have Hope and Bobby, and both are long distance friendships but still equally as valuable.” Abby prodded her in the arm, trying to hint that she wanted to speak.

“Abby wants to speak to you, let me know if that’s okay.”

“That’s definitely fine.”

“Cool, handing you over now.” Alecto handed her phone to Abby.

“Hi. You clearly mean a lot to Alecto and you’re super special to her, so as her best friend, I’d like to talk to you more and get to know you better. Most of the people she’s dated previously I haven’t been too keen on, but you’re different. I know it might be a little weird, as I did date her before, but we’re still friends and all, and I’d love to extend that to you.”

“Really? I don’t have an issue with you two being friends in the slightest, from what I know, you two were friends first then started dating, so it wasn’t great that people expected you to give that up. Exes can be friends, there’s nothing against it! I’ve never done that myself, but ended up having a lot of messy breakups, even dated my best friend in secondary school and that completely broke the friendship. Olivia did break my heart, so the fact that I could open my heart up enough for Alecto is a big deal. I’m rambling now, but if you’re fine with it, cool.” Marisol was speaking pretty quickly, causing Abby to grin.

“Yup. I definitely mean that, the fact you don’t see me as threatening means a lot. Some people who Alecto’s dated, like only once or twice, had such an issue with it, that it did both of our heads in. I mean, I have a girlfriend now, so I’m not going to ruin anything, like people assumed. I do understand though, and I like you because of the way you and Alecto operate. So that’s all, I just wanted to let you know. I’ll hand you back to Alecto then.” Abby grinned, her voice warm.

“Okay, thank you! It does mean a lot.”

Abby grinned, moving to sort the boxes of food out and sort the mess in her apartment.

“Back to me again. Does that help? You do seem considerably happier, which is reassuring.”

“Yes, I am. It’s sweet of Abby to care about me, so that helps. I’ve never talked about Olivia to anyone apart from you before. So that’s a big deal. But I should probably let you go to bed soon, it’s really late in LA, I know.” Marisol’s voice was still watery, but she had gained enough stability to reassure Alecto a bit.

“Goodnight then. Call you tomorrow, well later today! Let’s organise a time via text or something.”

“Goodnight. See you.” When Marisol hung up, her voice sounded warmer already.

Alecto yawned, getting to her feet. She made her way to Abby’s guest bedroom, getting ready for bed. Once in bed, she dropped off quickly.

[project-rebirth]

Prologue: Look What I Found Under This Big Rock – OP.“Apocrypha”

She was dead. It was 3PM on December 25 and Shirai Kuroko, a 1st year middle school girl with chestnut twintails and wearing nothing but a purple negligee, lay collapsed and unmoving on her bed in a Tokiwadai Middle School student dorm. She was completely dead.

As dead as a jellyfish rotting on the beach.

“Onwee-shama…still hasn’t come home…”

Yes.

Her roommate Misaka Mikoto had yet to return after being sent to the hospital after the injuries she had received just a few days prior to the Violent Violet incident (Even though the injuries she sustained were relatively minor in comparison to some others who were caught up in it), but knowing her, the attractive Onee-sama was off enjoying herself elsewhere on Christmas and her cute underclassman had failed to board Noah’s Ark in time. She may have been sent to a deserted island all on her own. Shirai Kuroko had been tragically rejected. And it hurt all the more because she knew there was no ill will behind it.

She did not even have it in her to flail around in frustration. A monotone ringtone played from the phone she had left by her pillow, so she reached out with her face still down in the pillow and spoke in a deep, zombie-like voice.

“Uwehhhh? A joint manhunt with Anti-Skill?”

“They’re apparently planning a major arrest. And isn’t that kind of violence your favorite thing, Shirai-san? The adults are actually offering to let you run wild for once, so you should probably take them up on it.”

Judgment apparently had a lot of work piled up even on Christmas.

She briefly considered resorting to pretending she was in too much pain to get out of bed due to being on her purple period which would curse you unless you forgot it existed before you turned 20…but then she had a different idea.

Yes.

If there was going to be some major incident happening, wouldn’t Misaka Mikoto be more liable to show up?

She leaped out of bed, fixed her mussed-up hair, and hurriedly responded.

“Understood, Uiharu!! I will be there right away! Where is ‘there’, by the way!?”

Tokiwadai forced impeccable behavior on its students, so the dorms were strictly locked down around Christmas, but work for Judgment was an exception. This was Shirai Kuroko’s first Tokiwadai Christmas, but she managed to strut right past the dorm manager and out the supposedly impregnable front entrance in her winter uniform and a very long scarf.

“Now, then.”

She let out a breath and vanished into thin air.

She was a Level 4 Teleporter.

She could only teleport things a distance of 81.5m at once and she could only teleport a weight of 130.74kg at once, but by repeatedly teleporting herself, she could move at speeds greater than a racecar. All while circumventing the restrictions of the asphalt roads.

The safety of District 7 could vary a lot depending on the area, but she made her way to one of the less safe areas. There was decidedly unartistic graffiti spray painted on the walls and presumably stolen and abandoned bicycles were lying all around. There were no Christmas decorations in evidence.

A habit instilled in her by her job(?) took over and she photographed the registration sticker on the underside of the bike seats.

“Is this the place?” she asked over the phone.

“An Anti-Skill truck should be parked nearby, so go find them. I’m busy with my own work, so I unfortunately won’t be able to join you. …Eh? Oh, what is it? Ehhh!? You want me to turn all this into an automated processing flowchart today!?”

After some sounds of a struggle, the call ended.

(I guess I have to do this.)

Being out and about gave her more of a chance to run across her beloved Onee-sama, Misaka Mikoto, than lying dead on her dorm room bed. Especially when there was trouble afoot. Her motivation was impure as could be, but she hoped they would forgive her if she could restore order to the city while she was at it.

She knocked on the door of a large steel truck that looked like a windowless bus and the door opened from the inside.

It was larger than a van, but it actually felt cramped on the inside. Both walls were crammed full of industrial computers and the excess space was piled high with boxes of weapons and ammo. There were no ordinary lights, so the glow of monitors and heat of machines filled the limited space. This was apparently a logistics vehicle that handled data control and materiel provision more than transporting people.

(And this is only the backup. Does that mean they have more personnel deployed than would fit in one bus?)

She looked skeptical. Anti-Skill was the grownup organization that preserved order in Academy City. In terms of the world outside the city, they were similar to the police. She knew they were a highly organized group of volunteer teachers, but this appeared to be a largescale job even for them. Just think about it. How many police officers would be needed to chase down a single robber escaping through the streets? It would be unusual to find that not even 30 was enough.

“Excuse me, but you requested my presence here. I am Shirai Kuroko of Judgment. If this major arrest required calling me in, does it involve an esper?”

They were not as polite as a phone shop’s receptionist. First, her voice was absorbed by silence and a few sharp glances turned her way after a bit. “The customer is always right” did not apply with civil servants. Plus, Shirai was not actually a customer. Finally, a nearby woman, who appeared to be an operator, spoke up.

She curtly gestured further back in the truck with her chin.

“You’re working with her.”

That seemed awfully cold after Shirai had gone out of her way to name herself and express her enthusiasm for the job, but she accepted it since she had seen some girls in her class who tried and failed to play the tsundere like that. Then she looked over in the indicated direction.

Much to her surprise, the person that she was to  work with did not look like your typical anti-skill officer based on the clothes they were wearing as well as the apparent age of the person.

She appeared to be a girl who looked around the age where she was in her last year of high school or starting her first year of university, though if she played her cards right, she looked like she could be any age. The girl had light purple hair, brown eyes and looked like she was wearing an old school uniform that surprisingly still fit her well. She  was sitting at the table with a laptop, seemingly engrossed in whatever she was looking at.

“.....”

For some reason, Shirai was under the impression that she gave off the air of a NEET or some kind of shut in, And just when she had that though, the NEET girl turned her head towards Shirai.

“Hm? Oh, you’re that girl I’m working with.... Shiroko was it?”

“...Shirai Kuroko. I am from Judgement. You don’t look like you’re from Anti-Skill... who are you?”

“Ah, that’s right. I suppose I don’t seem like your common law enforcement officer do I? My name is Kihara Jikan. I’m a special researcher that’s been recruited by the Governing Board to help Anti-Skill with the large operation that’s taking place.”

Shirai raised an eyebrow. She was familiar with the name Kihara and how that family of scientists were responsible for all sorts of atrocities. The likes of Kihara Gensei and Therestina Kihara Lifeline comes to mind. But there was a chance that Jikan was not involved in anything like that,, so she had to refrain from judging her for now.

“So, what is this operation we are participating in? Are we finally arresting MINUS?”

“To be clear, you can’t let anyone know about this. Because we live in an age where people will do just about anything to get material for an online video or social media post. Unfortunately however, it’s not MINUS. You see, in recent times, dangerous individuals and organizations from the Outside have infiltrated Academy City. The governing board has finally had enough and decided to do something about it, hence why we’re both here. Welcome to Operation Apocrypha Shirai-san.”

Infiltrators from the outside? Shirai knew there were instances of people breaching Academy City’s security and entering, but she did not know it was on a scale like this, especially something that warranted the full resources of Anti-Skill and Judgement.

And based on Jikan’s tone, Shirai could tell that this was a situation that took precedence over MINUS, who had gone rather quiet after the District 19 incident.

“These invaders are not espers or anything we are used to dealing with. These people and organizations operate on laws and concepts that are completely out of our current understanding, but thanks to the OUTRANK list that we got from the anonymous source called The Guardian, we know who is in this city and what we can expect when we engage them.”

Jikan shifted her laptop so Shirai could see before moving from a tab that had some stuff regarding research into Multi-Universe Theory and Temporal Quantum Mechanics before moving to a tab that held a really long list of names of organizations and their members, as well as some other names who were not really affiliated with any particular organization.

Shirai looked at the names and gave it a read through. She had never heard of these people or groups before, however she was more astonished by the number of them listed. These people were really in Academy City?

“Hamanchi Eggoko, Lea Alecto, Rosimontis The Purger, The Wild Horse... are these people seriously in Academy City?”

“OUTRANK doesn’t lie I’m afraid. Those people are either already in Academy City, or is expected to come here. Lea Alecto and Rosimontis The Purger are big enough threats on their own, several members of an organization known as The X has been spotted in this city including the one named Shinpachi Oni, the Wild Horse. Oh, and the names you listed are all Harmfuls. They are the ones you should be careful of.”

“Harmfuls..?”

“Yes. You see, we have a category system that separates the very dangerous elements from the less dangerous elements. The names you went over are all in the Harmful category, while others have been placed into the Beneficial category. It’s to know who we need to use the proper amount of force against really.”

Academy City was under attack.

Many hostile individuals and organizations were in the city illegally and were most likely here for some nefarious purpose. Looking at the organization called The X, as well as some of the others, there was great concern to be had for the security and safety of the city and its residents,but there were a lot of it that seemed unbelievable, at least on paper.

But then there was a thought that came to Shirai, something that should be asked now.

“I do have a question. Why is it that these third parties are entering the city in the quantity that they have? Is this a coordinated effort between the groups, or is there something here that they are looking for?”

“It’s hard to say whether or not the groups are working together, but based on what we have gotten, they seem to be mostly operating on their own. As for the second point, we believe that they are after some kind of experimental device that I can’t get into, but it’s imperative that none of them get their hands on it. Academy City tech can’t fall into the hands of outsiders.”

“So, does that answer your questions for now? We are expected to apprehend Bazuko, one of the members of X soon so we can find out what the organization is really doing here as well as to give us the locations of the rest of their members, so I hope you are ready for some action, Shirai.”

This was a citywide sweep of forces from the Outside. Shirai had heard a few things about something called the Third Side or Cosmic Side being talked about on internet forums (the only reason she knows about it is because Saten Ruiko told her) but she could not give any clear definition of what the cosmic side was really supposed to be. It felt like a fictional thing spoken of only in rumors. Like a few separate incidents had appeared connected by coincidence, creating the illusion of something larger there. Yet it was all too ominous to just laugh it off in that way.

But this sounded exactly like something her Onee-sama would get involved in. If these Cosmic Siders or whatever was going to be causing problems on a scale like this, then it was only a matter of time before Mikoto threw herself into the fray. She was heavily involved in that last incident, so it was only natrual that she would appear somewhere down the line.

With that possibility filling her mind, Shirai Kuroko was ready to engage the enemy with more vigor than she normally would have.

“Then let’s do our best to stop the criminals that are infiltrating our city!”

Start: Operation_Apocrypha

@tetsuwan-atom​ @lawain-dimensional-heroes​ @xbloodsoakedx​

[evcnesco2]

･ﾟﾟ･｡ ( bill skarsgard, cis male, he/him ) — 𝒉𝒐𝒈𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 AMYCUS CARROW, the ELEVENTH year SLYTHERIN student ! i hear that the TWENTY ONE year old is known to be INTELLIGENT and DETERMINED and also very MANIPULATIVE and SADISTIC. however, if you ask me, the fact that they are a PUREBLOOD and leaning towards the side of the DEATH EATERS  is a lot more telling.

sidenote: i’m currently working on a more extensive bio page for amycus and will let you all know when it’s up. 

the basics

name: amycus nicolas carrow

nickname(s): amy ( only by select few) or ams

age: twenty one

date of birth: march 23rd

gender: cis male

pronouns: he/him

orientation: pansexual

affiliation:  the death eaters

occupation: student.

house: slytherin

about

torture, murder tw,

amycus was the first child born to nicolas and althea carrow. a son. the perfect child to be born first. they had the a legacy to carry on the carrow name. the carrow prince. he was raised to believe he was better than everyone who wasn’t a pureblood and he did. he always carried himself in a way that showed he believed he was better than everyone. 

the first two years of amycus’s life were simple. it was just him and his parents, but then alecto came around. he was no longer the baby of the family and for the first few months after she was born he had serious jealousy issues until he realized that she wasn’t so bad. 

parties, dinners, elegant events were all normal parts of amycus’s life growing up but he wasn’t interested int them. one wrong move though would result in punishment from his father so amycus always did his best to be perfect but he found it extremely difficult to do so. 

his violent nature kicked in when he was eight. he watched his father torture and kill a halfblood who had crossed him. amycus’s eyes lit up like it was the best day of his life. his father saw the spark in his child’s eyes and started teaching him the dark arts. 

amycus was sorted into slytherin as expected of him, but he was almost sorted into ravenclaw which he knew would have disappointed his family. 

amycus has always been good with his magic and classes, but he took a special interest in potions and has decided his end goal is to open a small store where he can sell potions and potion supplies. 

amycus is very chaotic and unpredictable. he can’t control his anger, no matter how hard he tries. 

headcanons

one. alecto, his sister and other half

without alecto, amycus isn’t sure who he would be. she knows everything about him and he knows everything about her. whenever anything happens he goes directly to her. she is his calm when he is upset, even if she is just as unpredictable and chaotic as he is. 

she is the only person that he is protective of. he would do anything and everything for her. he feels stronger when she is around. she is the only person in the world that he feels truly understands him and he appreciates that.  if anything or anyone hurts her, he is always right there to get revenge and pick up the pieces. 

two. dagger

before amycus left for hogwarts, his grandfather gifted him with a dagger. it was custom made for the boys liking. it has a snake engraved on the gold handle and it is his favorite thing he owns. he carries it around with him wherever he goes, tucked away in his robes. 

three. potions

it started out at a love hate relationship. he wasn’t patient enough to sit there and listen to all the rules but in his second year of hogwarts it clicked. brewing potions came easily to the boy after that. it was the one thing that brought him joy.

with it being his passion, he has decided that he’ll make it his career. he’s already looking into buildings he can purchase to start his own potions shop. he’s not sure what kind of clients it will draw in, but he’s positive they won’t all be legal. 

four. the death eaters

amycus was expected to follow in the path of his father and join the death eaters. he agreed with their mission, but was reluctant to get the mark, not wanting people to see it and judge him. he got it his ninth year of schooling though and loves the fear in peoples eyes when they see it. he thought he would hate it, but the fear brings him excitement. 

five. boggart

amycus’s boggart is his father. he has always been scared of the man and the power he holds over his future. his father is cold towards most and that extended to his children at times. most of amycus’s nightmares are filled with memories from the past that include his father. he refuses to speak about them to anyone, even alecto. 

six. love

amycus doesn’t believe in love. there was a time when he did, but then his heart was crushed. he knows his future has no chance of love given his father has arranged a betrothal for him. it was always in the plans, but he was hoping in some form that he would be able to choose who he loved. 

connections

friends: amycus doesn’t have many friends, but those who can manage to deal with his anger issues he remains close to and would do anything for. 

enemies: people that hate him and someone he hates back. probably people he tortures for being less than him. 

ex: amycus only has one ex and he believed at the time that they were the love of his life. for reasons we can discuss the other broke up with him and broke his heart. ~ taken by andromeda black 

flings: people that amycus sleeps with. this could be people he’s close to and friends with or someone that he hates and they only have angsty hate sex. 

mentee: someone who amycus is convincing to join the dark side. someone he teaches the dark arts to in hopes that they will one day take the dark mark. 

betrothal: this is pretty self explanatory, someone he's betrothed to ~ taken marlene mckinnon

[hvrtlings]

                               “ no matter how fast light travels, it finds                                    the darkness has always got there first “

* ╰   lorenzo zurzolo ;  18 ;  he/his  —— wow,  lachlan hawthorn  sure has changed. i guess  he  is feeling isolated from the other  gryffindor  members. guess you can’t really blame him. i still remember him being so  curious & adaptable  now he just seems  frustrated & evasive  guess being a  halfblood  isn’t helping matters much either.  i’m hopeful though. they’ll be just fine.  (  zoe ; cst ; 21 ; she/her  )  

WARNINGS:  infidelity, murder, car crashes, mention of war & hospitals & general bigotry    ADDITIONAL MATERIALS:   lachlan’s stats page, playlist, & pinterest board   ADDITIONAL NOTES:  this is fully a few thousand words longer than either nate’s or alecto’s intros and i should edit it down but i also need it to not be in my drafts. really sorry about that. if you want a tldr version please hmu!! or if you just want to plot!!!

when lachlan’s biological parents married, rumors abounded. plenty of couples from their class got married right out of hogwarts   ---   but none of those other couples were such a puzzling case to their peers. no one knew what sweet serena alessandri saw in declan glynne. sometimes, even serena wasn’t quite sure what it was about him; he was a dark beauty, something she could only call him in her head. he was the sort of boy who’d bristle at such a feminine compliment as beautiful; never mind that it was true. but for all his good looks, no other girl had been interested in him. maybe because he wasn’t a sweet guy   ---   just a guy who was sweet to her. 

sweet serena alessandri: deposed princess of a new money pureblood family, she hailed from italy and had lived her whole life in clueless luxury. right up until her new money family found themselves newly penniless, and escaped to england to hide their shame. 

the girls and boys she’d grown up with, gone to school with   ---   they turned on her and her family the moment they lacked the funds to support the frivolous life italian purebloods led. 

oh, but they were mean. they rubbed her family’s new poverty in her face with well calculated cruelty. they were the reasons she vowed to keep her head down when she transferred to hogwarts. she was wary of befriending muggles and muggleborns, but wary of hating them, too. haughtiness got you nothing; she knew this well. 

serena was hurt and young and foolish   ---   not to mention ever fearful of seeming those things. declan never acted like she was; maybe that’s all there was to her love. a sense of safety, if only from ridicule. 

surly declan glynne: why, he hardly warranted a full backstory. he was an angry pureblood boy from a long line of angry pureblood boys who’d never had enough money to back up their feelings of superiority. 

he was almost militant in his hatred of muggleborns and muggles; he hated muggles with a quiet passion, but muggleborns were the real problem. muggleborns infected his everyday life, stole opportunities directly from him. 

hardly a radical feeling, but still   ---   his bigotry and working-class roots didn’t make for a winning combination. swimming in friends and admirers, he was not. 

so the unlikely hogwarts sweethearts settled down months after graduating, and bets were made among their peers on how long they’d actually last. 

everybody who bet that the answer was  ‘ not long ‘  had plenty of evidence to support their stance   ---   namely, that while declan scrounged up a job in the magical maintenance department at the ministry, serena went to muggle university   ( excelled there, in that world of finite answers and figures, like she never could in the magical theory and feeling and pronunciation at hogwarts )   and ended up working at a muggle accounting firm. 

that while serena was making more money than the highest ranking official in declan’s department, declan stewed in his anger. 

his resentment bled into the relationship. they’d never had too much in common; when the sweetness declan used to treat her with left, serena was so confused. but she hated asking questions   ---   fearful as ever of seeming young and hurt and foolish, wary as ever of showing a chink in her armor to people far better equipped for cruelty. just as she learned that the purebloods of her childhood were crueler than her, she knew without needing the lesson that her husband was crueler, too. 

serena’s muggle coworkers and classmates had always liked her. 

she’d always told a version of the truth, to explain why some simple things confused her so much   —   after all, it wasn’t a lie that she was grew up in a rich italian family who lost the fortune when she was in her teens and left her kind of adrift. 

her confusion at taxis and ball point pens could be laughed off as a sign of her former rich-girl ways. 

as could her need to be liked. they all knew she attended a string of elite boarding schools but ended up having to pay her own way through university   ---   knew that she worked hard and wanted people to see that about her. 

so, yes: they’d always liked her. she was kind. 

her coworkers noticed the seemingly sudden shift in her mood, and one brave man she’d worked on a few projects with took that notice a step further   ---    friendly and concerned about her, just as kind as serena had always been to him, andrew reynolds asked her out to lunch one day. and there, he asked why serena was feeling so low.

the sweetness and the kindness from him was enough to open the floodgates. maybe, she could admit, she’d felt a little starved for those two things. declan’s moods had only ever gotten worse. she answered andrew’s questions with all the honesty the ministry allowed. 

she revealed that her husband wasn’t sweet to her anymore, that he was actually kind of cold. she revealed she was hurt and unsure of what she did wrong. andrew paid for her meal and told her that she hadn’t done anything wrong. 

that one lunch, where he said he’d be there for her, devolved into many lunches, and then late-running meetings, and finally time spent out of the office. they fell in love   —   and she became pregnant.

she hid it from declan for a while; they hadn’t been having sex all that frequently, with his sudden ire at her putting a dent in romance. but she hurried to initiate it as often as she felt was  ‘ normal ’  for a happy marriage, after she found out she was pregnant.

she wasn’t happy being married to him, but the idea of separating was alien to her   —   so she needed him to think that the baby was his.

she only got more unhappy with him, when she figured enough time had passed that she could reveal the pregnancy without suspicion. serena wasn’t sure how she’d have felt if declan had been pleased to hear they were having a baby   —   if any excitement or warmth would have won her back to him, if a return of love would’ve erased all her hurt. but the news only seemed to make him more miserable; so serena never had to find out. 

fast forward: lachlan is born, the staff at st. mungo’s hurrying as best they can to get out of a room so tense where it should be joyous. declan named the baby, and serena let him. a pang of something wrong rang through her but she ignored it in favor of plastering on a warm smile.  

then the trio returned home. 

apparently declan   ( who’d never been all that smart, whose suspicions never seemed to touch his wife, for all his anger at her and the world at large )    had wondered at serena’s change in mood before the pregnancy. he hadn’t really noticed she’d started feeling small and hurt and lost at home until she was happy again. and when she was happier, he got suspicious. he followed her physically when he could, spied on her magically when he could, and never got proof of an all-out affair   ---   but declan glynne had been born suspicious. he could wait. 

here’s the thing: all babies kind of look the same. lachlan’s looks weren’t a shocking departure from declan’s and serena’s. andrew reynolds had been white, too, so it wasn’t like baby lachlan’s skin tone was super different. but declan had just made a deal with himself, like   —   serena and I both have light hair; if this baby’s hair isn’t almost transparent, I’ll know. 

baby lachlan was born with a shock of honeyed-brown curls. so that was that. 

declan was, all records would show, an anti-muggle wackjob. and he was beyond furious that serena   ( his wife. he may not have loved her any longer, but she was his )   thought to pass off some  ‘ muggle’s bastard ‘  as his son. 

they lived in a little wizarding neighborhood a small ways away from godric’s hollow; some might say, kindly, it was more quaint than godric’s hollow. others, honestly, might point out it was a way cheaper godric’s hollow. a neighbor saw and understood what the flash of green light in the glynnes’ windows meant, and alerted the aurors. 

baby lachlan was left generally parent-less, as serena was dead and declan ended up in prison. he might have ended up dead himself, had the aurors not arrived on time. godric bless nosy neighbors, and all that. 

declan wasn’t a smart or wealthy enough pureblood guy to get away literally murdering his wife over an affair. 

some people probably sympathized with him   ( serena cheated on him with a muggle. when that saucy story hit the news, that fact was hammered in and plenty of people got where he was coming from )   but it wasn’t enough to keep him out of prison. 

lachlan definitely did have a still living parent who would’ve jumped at the chance to take care of him   —   but the wizarding authorities never even considered andrew reynolds for any real length of time. 

a peek into the auror office’s thought process:  if we give him the baby we have to explain how and why and that serena’s dead. and it’s just easier to not do that.

a peek into the world of wizarding adoptions: even smarmy, blood purist wizarding society is all about preserving magical blood. so magical orphans aren’t long left without homes; magical orphanages aren’t a thing. wizarding families are often huge. so orphaned wizards are shopped around to even distant relatives and then, if that doesn’t work out, given to other families.

scandalous, family-less, little baby lachlan wasn’t long alone.

meet the hawthorn family   ---    edmund hawthorn was born edmund shafiq and was quietly exiled from his sacred twenty-eight family when he came out. which was fine, because his husband travis hawthorn came from a sprawlingly big and welcoming half-blood family and they took edmund in right away. 

edmund still wrote to his parents, and they wrote back; they hadn’t disowned him out of bad blood. he knew his parents still loved him. they just loved the family’s image more, and needed to give him the boot in order to name his brother orlando the heir  ...   since he could give them more heirs. 

travis, conversely, had a lovely relationship with his family. 

both edmund and travis were pretty high ranking ministry workers. edmund worked in the office for the department of magical law enforcement   —   not an auror, but someone who puts together files and goes over paperwork and traces patterns. travis was a liaison minister with the department of international magical cooperation. they’re good guys with good reputations and the ministry was honestly relieved when they offered to adopt lachlan. 

lachlan grew up with two sisters: della, who was five years older, and laurel, who was just ten months older. he loved them with all his heart. 

people tended to think he and laurel were twins, especially growing up   —   the dads cut her hair a little short because she was always getting into a mess, and it was easier to clean mud and neon paint out of shorter curls than long ones   —   but with their matching hair and their alliterative names, their propensity to always cause trouble as a team   ...   they just seemed like twins.

him and laurel seeming like blood related siblings to the outside eye made it easier for the world to forget that the hawthorn’s son was the baby that caused that big scandal.   

edmund and travis never lied to the two of them and said they were blood related twins or siblings, outright. but they did let the world outside their family assume that. they figured life would be easier for lachlan if that was the readily accepted truth.

lachlan wasn’t all that adventurous on his own, but found himself dragged into his sisters’ adventures; he could vouch from experience that mud and neon paint were a pain to wash out as it was, and couldn’t imagine adding more hair into the equation. 

his sisters might’ve been better at getting into messes, but lachlan made up for it by being a mess. he was always having a crisis as a kid   —   his stuffed dinosaurs were just ravaging the block city, dad, but what about the finger puppet people in that apartment building? do they even sell dinosaur insurance?? why didn’t I think of the implications here  ... 

he and laurel played knights a lot, with toy swords and helmets modeled after the suits of armor in hogwarts  ( travis asked edmund if that wasn’t a little much, when they bought them; they were a few years out from school, after all, they didn’t care that the helmets were accurate   —   )   and lachlan always wondered about the ramifications of two knights fighting each other. laurel always took the ensuing soliloquy of hypothetical questions as opportunity to knock him flat backwards.

he was a needy kid   —   he always had questions at his lips, a thousand moral quandaries to discuss. he had an active imagination and a tendency to let situations snowball into situations.

he was often hilarious, and rarely on purpose, and very easy to like. anyone who knew his birth mother would’ve been surprised to see lachlan   —   he truly was nothing like serena. he was bright and sweet and openly curious about everything. he loved storytelling and art and music; a perfect case to show that nurture always won out over nature.

when it was time for him to go to hogwarts, he wasn’t at all sure what house he’d get sorted into   —   it wasn’t the sort of thing he’d ever been hung up on thinking about, for all that he’d wondered about every other part of the hogwarts experience. his dads had both been in different houses, and he had no way of knowing what houses his birth parents belonged to. the sorting hat cried out GRYFFINDOR a scant few moments after touching down on his unruly curls, and lachlan decided that felt right.

he loved hogwarts.  

 lachlan made friends easily and often   —   he’d grown up in the constant companionship of his sisters and knew well how to start conversations and shift them from uncomfortable topics, was skilled at asking questions that made people feel good and liked. 

he was a little overzealous in class, but most of his professors liked him well enough. lachlan was still a curious guy, and seemed to genuinely care about each subject   —   something that went a long way towards endearing him to hogwarts’ staff.

though, some of the staff might’ve been endeared to him even if he wasn’t generally endearing. 

his interesting past wasn’t a secret from most of the professors; travis and edmund had done well enough redirecting people’s memories around their son, but then most people had already forgotten about serena and declan, or else had never really known them in the first place. but many hogwarts professors recalled teaching the couple, recalled the shock their ending gave them, when the news hit.

lachlan’s  ‘ story ‘  wasn’t something his dads had shared with him just yet, so lachlan himself didn’t know. it was a little maddening walking around the castle, when it felt like all the adults looked like they knew something he didn’t. 

dumbledore, being dumbledore, took it upon himself to tell lachlan the whole sordid tale himself, when lachlan was just starting his fourth year. it was a shock   ( it majorly pissed off travis and edmund, who never found out why the old man did such a thing )   but the next time he went home for the holidays his dads sat him down and explained that, no they weren’t hiding it from him and yes, they’d had plans set to tell him when he was seventeen and of age.

wizarding authorities could have hunted down andrew reynolds and told him he had a son, but they didn’t. travis and edmund, however, wanted to find andrew just in case lachlan ever wanted to meet him. so lo and behold   —   once lachlan knew, his dad’s set up a meeting for the four of them in muggle london. it went well; kinda full of shock and crying, even without breaking the  ‘ wizard ’  of it all to andrew, but still well.

lachlan was perfectly happy with his sisters and his dads; for all that he’d always known he was adopted and for all that he’d always been curious as hell, he’d never really pushed his dads about his birth parents. his dads just were his dads. end of story   —   no need for questions. 

which was part of why it was easy for him to go fourteen years before learning about his past. lachlan could not be paid to stop the flow of his curiosity, but there were somethings that seemed so solidly true he never thought to question them.

so while it was kind of cool meeting andrew, it was also kind of weird. knowing about andrew at all was weird   —   because it meant knowing that his mother had died days after giving birth to him, alone and scared and unhappy. and that her husband had been a bigot and a murderer; that declan glynne was still alive in prison somewhere. it was a suckerpunch to the gut knowing that lachlan had come close to being killed himself, if a neighbor hadn’t called the aurors on their house just in time to save the baby he used to be.

listen, he’d never wanted to know where he came from. 

but he knew he’d feel, like, kind of bad if he just never saw andrew again. so with his dads’ permission   ( and encouragement; edmund and travis thought this would be good for lachlan, like getting to know his Muggle Heritage from his Muggle Birth Father )   he hung out with him on occasion, during holidays and school breaks.

even though the professors clearly knew about his past, and his dads did, and his sisters did once he decided he wanted to tell them   ...   lachlan kept it all under wraps around his friends at school. he liked to think he was an open book, before. but learning where he came from made him want to play his cards a little closer to his chest. he couldn’t put his finger on why   —   he knew it worried his dads, he knew it did, and figured he’d get over it in due time, once he settled into the truth.

it just didn’t seem like the truth wanted to settle around him.

declan glynne had family. he was a middle son from a whole gaggle of bigoted, disillusioned glynne brothers. the ministry just never considered them when they were trying to figure out who would take lachlan on. they looked at serena’s family and saw no options, but declan was not lachlan’s father and, like andrew, was never even considered. 

ian glynne had a bone to pick with this   —   had a bone to pick with lachlan’s whole existence, too, had a problem with that almost more than being overlooked. 

( he thought that if serena had just kept her legs shut she’d never have gotten herself pregnant and gotten herself dead and gotten her husband sent to prison. more than that, he thought if she hadn’t gotten the idea of a muggle career into her head and made his brother upset, what with her math and her decent paycheck, she really would’ve staved all this off. but serena was dead   —   so it was easier to blame the baby, who wasn’t. )

he was a fan of simmering in his anger and hatred and kept up with the news about lachlan, at least enough to know who he ended up being adopted by.

and from there he got an idea; the hawthorns were good people   —   a compliment that would’ve come out as a sneer if ian voiced it, the judgement and sarcasm inherent in every syllable. he figured at some point, they’d tell lachlan who his birth parents were, maybe even introduce him to that homewrecking muggle. and if they did, and if ian kept a low profile, kept observing   …   they’d lead ian right to the muggle at the root of his brother’s injustice. 

he wasn’t always watching lachlan, just keeping an eye on him by keeping an eye on his dads. he’d never been all that smart or ambitious   —   the glynnes were a family that thrived in their self-righteousness and self-importance and didn’t feel like they should have to act on those things to get what they deserved.

but his anger, his half baked plot, was enough to spur ian to action for the first time in his life. he rose through the ranks of the ministry through pure determination and will and ended up working in the same office in the department of magical law enforcement as edmund. they almost became friends; not earnestly, not honestly   —   not on ian’s part. but they did. friendly enough for ian to ask after edmund’s kids and get answers, friendly enough to hear about the trip into muggle london to visit someone edmund described as one of the kids’  ‘ distant relatives. ‘

he followed them.

and he didn’t do anything that time lachlan and the muggle were in the same place, but he started to plan.

it would’ve been too hard to keep magical surveillance over lachlan and the hawthorns, so he hadn’t, not ever. just kept an eye on them the old fashioned way, through word of mouth and casual water-cooler conversation. but andrew reynolds had no means of catching ian glynne in the act of spying. so, spy he did.

muggle police would later rule it a tragic car accident   —   shaking their heads at the carnage as they carted lachlan off to the muggle hospital while he clung with bloody hands to consciousness. it took hours for the dads to find him there and by the time his family reached him he decided he wouldn’t tell them any of the truth of what happened; told the official from the auror department once he got relocated to st. mungo’s, but only because he had to. 

he never asked if that official told his dads. none of the hawthorns talked about the situation anymore than they had to, after that.

here was the situation:

ian glynne tailed lachlan and andrew all day   —   a saturday during easter hols during lachlan’s fifth year wherein andrew showed lachlan around muggle london. the pair had lunch together, looked in a few shops, and were set to drive out to andrew’s home outside of the city, where edmund and travis and lachlan’s sisters would meet them later for tea. 

ian glynne got them on a secluded section of road just far enough away from both the city proper and andrew’s home to cause immediate alarm.

he came out in front of the car and andrew made to swerve around the man, but ian cast some defensive spell lachlan had yet to learn at the hood. it exploded   —   felt like they crashed into another vehicle even though they were the only car on the road.

lachlan and andrew both slammed into the windshield, but neither crashed through it. ian came ‘round to andrew’s side of the car and started screaming questions at him about serena and declan; then he shot him with a muggle handgun, something lachlan had surely never laid eyes on before.

andrew did not die from that initial gunshot   —   ian was a terrible shot, and was half out of his mind besides. the bullet just grazed him, and he inelegantly dragged andrew out of the car after. 

lachlan made his way out of the vehicle too, bleeding and hurt, all cut up and bruised from the crash and the glass he had to wade through. he thought, maybe, he was in shock. he was certainly in shock once he finally bambi-legged his way out of the demolished vehicle and saw ian cast a cruciatus on his biological father. 

and, still in shock when he saw ian whammy andrew with a killing curse after that. 

ian did not attempt to turn his wand on lachlan   —   this was the second time in his short life that a glynne brother forgot to kill him once done with a more satisfying target. ian took for the bare april greenery lining the road and lachlan   ( curious, trauamtized dumbass that he was )   ran after him. found a gun pointed at him for a terrifying moment before the muggle police sirens cut the air and sent ian apparating on out of there.

he fought to go back to hogwarts right away; it was only the first saturday of the holiday that all this went down, so lachlan felt, since he spent the whole rest of it in hospitals and bed, surely he was fine. the dads disagreed, and his sisters disagreed, and the auror working on ian’s case disagreed. he’d just become, in a way, an orphan. and it felt like no one around him cared to see him recover in the way he wanted to.

lachlan managed to bargain that he’d get to return to school as soon as ian was sent to join his brother in prison   —   none of the world any wiser that he’d been there when the newest glynne family crime was committed. 

laurel decreed that it’d look less strange if both of them stayed home until then, and that was that. the dads wouldn’t begrudge lachlan the company of his sister, if he couldn’t return to full normalcy just yet.

della was graduated at this point, technically an adult working a fancy job at some boutique robe shop, but she came home every day from work and glued herself to her younger siblings’ sides. lachlan recovered his new, strange orphan-hood with his not-twin and big sister at his side, dads hovering around as much as their jobs allowed.

the hawthorns were tight knit and loosely configured all at once   —   always brimming with love and independence in spades, care expressed tenderly and roughly, like no one was sure how to be earnest. edmund and travis had always expressed affection like that: through arguing and debating and ribbing more than any big displays. 

the kids worked the same way. family dinners used to be more running jokes and teasing than anything, raucous like none of them knew the definition of serious.

the five hawthorns weren’t really sure if that old normal was still achievable; lachlan’s brush with near-death met the daunting news lurking on the edge of their world. the whispers of war.

things became very real for the carefree family   —   the fact of edmund’s disownment, and travis’ famous half-bloodedness.

that all three kids were adopted with far-from-simple origin stories   ( even if lachlan’s was the loudest, neither laurel nor della came from a closet free of skeletons ),   that the dads were gay and the kids were open in their opposition to anti-muggle and anti-muggleborn sentiment

ian glynne might not’ve gone after lachlan for any of that, not really. but the possibility started to hit with dizzying closeness.

two weeks after the holiday officially ended, laurel and lachlan returned to hogwarts. if lachlan had seemed new and different upon receiving the news of his biological parentage, then he seemed really different following his brush with death and new witness to murder. it was the kind of different that was hard to put your finger on. he smoked now, and drank more; he was liable to fall into fits of melancholy. 

cynicism did not come easy to him, but he found that wariness did, that secrecy did. it was shocking.

he finished his fifth year chomping at the bit to do something, anything, about the awful ways in which his world was changing. the next year only held more tragedy   ---   attacks and deaths and disappearances. no one knew what happened to him unless he chose to tell them   ( and in truth, there was almost no one he chose to tell )   but he couldn’t help but feel a kinship with everyone newly hurt by this world. he’d been hurt by it, too, after all. 

there was a small degree of safety offered within hogwarts’ walls, but he couldn’t help but want to be free of them. to be out there, doing something. lachlan would wait for now, ask questions and notice things and store them away the way he always had. but it started to feel like he was just biding his time until he had something to do with every new thing he learned. 

[divagonzo]

Opening Paragraph - Ch. 12 of Probate

Snape with Potion, by @hillyminne (source: Deviantart)

Ao3 // FF.net

A/N: So I had time and some current events made this chapter flow like mead. This chapter also has trigger warnings, especially for @rongasm and @displayheartcode for the allegory references and other references that are loathsome. It’ll all make sense within the context of the chapter.

Rated T for adult content, especially within historical contexts, and an almost panic attack. Caveat Emptor. Ace Safe.

Harry pulled back out of the memory about his parents and the consequences of Snape's final betrayal with his Mum. The epiphany with the book opened his eyes to see how brilliant his father actually was. Then again, Snape was brilliant too, in his own underhanded and rather Slytherin method.

"Well, that was informative but also not the least bit helpful for what we are trying to accomplish." Kingsley rubbed his eyes and huffed out a breath. "We can look at maybe 2 more before we knock off for the day. I'm bloody exhausted and I'm on day 3 of the pepper-up potions. If I take another, the addiction will kick in and I'll be arsed to have that problem in addition to everything else. So when we're done. I'll see you home to the Burrow before I crash."

"How addictive is Pepper-up Potion?" Harry thought how useful it could be to ignore sleep until he crashed from pure exhaustion.

"Aurors only use them sparingly, except in worst case situations. That's what we have right now. I have permission from Healer Greengrass for five of us right now. That permission doesn't include you, Harry. And I wouldn't have you do it, given your current situation."

"Sir, that's a load of crap."

"No, it's not. Since Audrey hasn't seen you yet and made a professional assessment, you're not getting it, at least from me. And if I find out that you nicked some from someone else you won't like the results." Kingsley sighed again. "Look, I can only imagine how bad the nightmares are, after everything that has happened to you. I can also appreciate the desire to skip a few nights of sleep so you don't have to cope with the nightmares until you are falling asleep standing up. But I learned from Mad-Eye that the price exacted for the choice isn't worth it. Besides," Kingsley stifled a yawn behind his hand, "breaking the addiction is a pain in the arse. Now, pick another and let's continue. I figure I've got an hour left in me and I'd like to get through 2 more before you get home."

Harry bit his tongue. Home right now was in Australia with his two best friends. Home wasn't the Burrow, at least not yet.

Instead, he put the stoppered vial back into the tray and plucked up another one. It appeared filled to the rim, and the cork barely sealing the glass vial in his hands. Red swirls floated through the memory. Somehow he knew it was going to be bad. He felt it deep inside.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered before he plucked the particular one out and poured it into the Pensieve. The memories swirled before his eyes, almost like a bad storm brewing in the bowl.

"I think this one is going to be bad, sir."

"Intuition?"

"Yeah. But it's not stopping me." Harry dove into the memory.

He landed in what appeared to be the Malfoy dining room if he could hazard a guess. He was standing at the head of a very large table and only two men were present: Professor Snape and Voldemort.

Harry felt revulsion immediately at seeing the nightmare sitting before him. Every fatality in his nightmares was because of him. Fred, Remus, Lavender, Tonks – so many dead, all because of one sod who craved power and didn't care who he killed to have it. Somehow the memory was growing darker, washed out in darkness.

"Harry, breathe." The voice felt like the best Honeyduke's chocolate he ever had. His vision brightened up and the steel band across his chest relented. His hands unclenched and his jaw loosened up from the pressure in his jaw. He took another and felt the older Auror's hand on his shoulder. That touch, which he hadn't had in weeks comforted him. That one hand on his shoulder, given freely in support, was what he desperately needed at that moment. The ones who would hug him- Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, Ron, even Ginny – were unavailable. He felt like an outsider, a burden on the family who took him in – and caused them so much grief over the years. How could he ask anyone to comfort him, when he was the cause of so much misery in the Weasley family.

Kingsley put his other hand on Harry's shoulder. "What are you thinking, Harry?"

"I faced that bastard down three times, sir. Face to face, not like his disembodied spirit residing on the back of Quirrell's head or during the fight in the Ministry." Harry blanked his mind over the incident the second year with Riddle's 16-year-old Horcrux. "Then there was the time as a baby when my Mum shielded me with her life." Harry took a deep breath. "I didn't want to kill him, not really. I thought that if he felt any sort of remorse over what he did – even a sliver of it – the pain would destroy him. Instead, he pushed the issue and died."

"If you want, I can view this memory without you. Why don't you wait for me? It shouldn't take long."

"No, sir. I promised I'd do it with you. I have to do this." Calm washed over him, somehow.  "I'm ready, sir." He saw Kingsley motion his wand silently and the memory started.

"Severus, do you know why I summoned you here today?" The sibilant voice grated in Harry's ears. That voice was dead and buried for good. Kingsley promised him that. But the terror still rattled his soul.

"I assume that you have a task for me, one that is of the most importance."

"You are correct. The night above Surrey I originally presumed we would rid ourselves of Potter once and for all. The ploy they used was rather inspired. I'm honestly surprised they could manage to escape my followers that night."

"I can only assume that someone tipped the members of the Order and they came out with the idea. But sire, you confronted Potter in the skies above Devon. You had him and yet old magic defeated you again. If it's a problem, send Bellatrix or Rodolphus to kill the boy. I am sure that they would be more than glad to handle that task."

"Severus, the prophecy says that I must be the one to kill him – no one else. Bellatrix has begged for the task but I have to be the one, by my wand. I have one in my possession who can answer my questions and what I can do to defeat Potter's wand – and kill him – for good.  But I must have answers before I confront Potter again. The old magic used to shield him is gone. Dumbledore is dead. I have you. There is no one standing between me and Potter. He is defenseless now against the might of the newly formed Ministry. Between Yaxley controlling the willing puppet Thicknesse and the help of another inside the Ministry – one witch who quietly agrees that Muggles are a disgrace and should be kept for labor – and the Mudbloods disposed of for the theft of Magic from those Purebloods who are worthy for power and ruling over the rest."

"There is the issue with the Weasley family, then. They are Purebloods but also Blood traitors. How can we deal with them?"

"They have a daughter, correct?"

"Yes, sire. The youngest, Ginevra, is their only daughter. But she would be difficult to control, at least willingly."

"Surely the father could be persuaded to agree to marry her off, to protect the rest from annihilation. Surely the girl can be married off to another one who is worthy, such as Draco."

"Sire, are you suggesting –"

"I am not blind. We need more Pureblood children, eventually, to continue our work. We also must cleanse the families of any taint. That would mean a solution. We cannot abide those worthy families of being tainted going forward. Those half-bred animals must be put down, for the good of our new society."

"Would that include the oldest, William? From what I have heard, he is marrying this weekend, to someone not Pureblooded."

"Where are they to wed, Severus?"

"I would presume the Weasley residence. Unfortunately, I do not know where that is."

"Then it's time to decapitate the Ministry leadership. Scrimgeour would know. Bellatrix can break the Minister. She has been begging for something to do the last fortnight. Once she has that information, we will attack the Weasley family during the wedding ceremony, kidnap the youngest, and if for some reason Potter is there, we can dispose of him, too."

"I am sure the rest of the family will be there, as well. Maybe the Mudblood Granger can be killed, too."

"Yes, I've heard Draco complaining about the Mudblood. Now that it has been decided, once Scrimgeour is dead and Thicknesse is installed as Minister, your task will be to take over as Headmaster of Hogwarts. The toady in the ministry has the proper documents drawn up and only needs the new Minister's signature. But you will need worthy professors in addition to the others. I have decided that Amicus and Alecto will teach there. Amicus can teach Dark arts, especially to those worthy Slytherins who show an aptitude for following orders. We will eventually need more people to do the dirty work and other unpleasant tasks. Alecto can teach Muggle Studies." Voldemort made a rude noise. "You, however, will ensure that Alecto teaches what we want – that Purebloods are superior humans to everyone else – and that Muggles are subservient to those who are worthy. See to that, along with ingraining the children into our viewpoint. I insist that attendance is compulsory and mandatory for all children. We cannot abide any parents teaching their children seditious ideas."

"And the Weasley girl, once she has sired more Purebloods?"

"The Weasley family will be wiped out, for good. They are a blight."

"And others?"

"After a few deaths which will be regrettable, the rest of the families will fall in line, willingly."

"Who will be your examples?"

"Alistair Parkinson already knows what to do and if he breaks ranks, he'll perish too. One of my associates has that situation well in hand and we'll know immediately whether he will be a problem." Voldemort steepled his hands before him, growing lost in thought. "The only ones from the Sacred 28 will be Lucius Malfoy, along with Molly Prewett Weasley, Amelia Bones, Kenneth McClaggen, Paisley Finch-Fletchley, and to amuse Bellatrix, Frank, and Alice Longbottom. The infirm are a waste of services that are better spent on healthy Purebloods. Oh, and let's include Levi Goldstein. He's the chief Healer at St. Mungo's. If we are going to have control of the population, we will have to control the healthcare of the population. Purebloods of good standing will have everything they need. The rest? Well, that will depend on their acceptance of a Fidelity Oath. If they refuse, they can rot in Azkaban until they die."

"Wouldn't those incarcerations and deaths influence the students?"

"Possibly, but it will happen only if they find out about their parent's situation. Control of information will be key. We will have control of the Post as well as Floo network, to control travel as well as information. I will also have someone kidnap Alana Parkinson, so her husband is amenable to printing what news we see fit to disseminate. Yaxley has agreed to take over Magical Law. He knows his tasks as soon as he's installed."

"You seem to have everything ready the moment Scrimgeour is dead."

"I realized after Lucius Malfoy's failure two years ago demanded other ideas and solutions. I thought he was competent. He isn't. So I have to rely on others to handle certain affairs necessary to smoothly run the new order we are building."

"Once you have accomplished all of this, what are your further plans?"

Voldemort smiled and Harry grew sick. "That, my dear Severus, will be shared once we have answered the question to the Muggleborn problem."

Kingsley gasped. "We've seen enough, Harry."  He laid a hand on Harry's shoulder and yanked them out of the memory. Harry stumbled to the ground, fighting a wave of nausea. That memory was wretched but something else bothered him.

"Kingsley, what was that about? That last statement makes no sense."

"That, Harry, was Professor Snape hearing about Voldemort's annihilated plan to murder all of the Muggleborn in the UK."

Harry fell on his arse. "Voldemort intended to murder the entire Muggleborn population?"

"It sure seems like that was a goal of his. But that was information I needed. Those names are important."

"I thought you knew about Amelia Bones."

"I did. I didn't know about Levi Goldstein, Paisley Finch-Fletchley, and Kenneth McClaggen. I'll have to check on each of them whenever I can in the next day or so."

"He mentioned Mrs. Weasley." Harry fought down the urge to vomit thinking about Mrs. Weasley being killed. "The bastard wanted to kill her."

"I'll quietly mention it to Arthur. Some remaining death eaters might want to target her to continue his plans. I don't want any rogue fanatics harming her, or Arthur either."

"I can't tell Ginny, can I?"

"You could since they did attempt to kidnap her at your brother's wedding. It's fortunate that Scrimgeour held out as long as he did."

"Fortunate? We had thirty seconds warning before the first of the sods showed up. How did they know where the Burrow was? I thought it was protected.

"It was. But when the Minister was forced to give the information up, They could batter the protective charms to gain access. The minister knew where you lived since he was out a short time prior. But then the Minister was the only one, aside from anyone in the Order who knew where Arthur and Molly lived. Arthur is very protective of his privacy if you can believe it."

How can we protect them further? The thought of rogue Death Eaters coming calling gives me nightmares.”

“When I take you home, we’ll discuss it with Arthur and Bill. I don’t think Molly will be in any shape to add to that discussion right now.”

[bedlamsbard]

Devil’s Backbone cut scene

I’m rereading A New Dawn at the moment, and since I just passed the cantina scene in the novel (which covers chapters 19-22) I thought I’d share the version of (part of) that scene that I wrote for Devil’s Backbone last year.  (As I recall, it was originally supposed to be in Chapter 22.)

Originally the flashbacks in the back third of Backbone were meant to cover more of Hera and Kanan’s time together pre- and post- Crucible.  This is a conceit that eventually got dropped in order to stick with the “origin story” theme of the flashbacks (currently the back third flashbacks including Cham in 24, Alecto in 25, and Hera in 26).  I also decided against including any Backbone’verse AND scenes in any of the flashback, since I was worried about the lack of context for readers who otherwise might not be familiar with the novel.  While I know how the Backbone’verse version of AND plays out, it was a little much to elide in the flashbacks, since the novel is so tightly plotted and a number of small things change because of the AU.  (None of the big things -- but that’s something else that’s hard to elide in one or even several flashbacks.)

About 2.2K below the break.

Six years ago Gorse

The name of the cantina was The Asteroid Belt, and from outside, it looked like every scumbucket drinking hole that Hera Syndulla had spent the past four years avoiding.

She eyed it doubtfully from beneath her dark hood, resisting the urge to turn around and go back to the Ghost, and from there fly to somewhere considerably more civilized.  Except that would mean admitting that she wasn’t suited for fieldwork; this was her first assignment and any failure would be met harshly.  Hera had been recruited for the ISB because she could walk into places like this without raising any eyebrows.  Nobody looked at a pretty Twi’lek girl – or any Twi’lek, for that matter – and considered that she could be an agent of the Empire.  Hera would stand out far less here than any of her classmates back on Naboo would, at least in theory.

Of course, her classmates had actually frequented scumbucket drinking holes like this one, or at least as close as any of the cantinas on Naboo got.  Hera had been more comfortable in the fight over in Shaketown. That had been simple: money and fists. Two things the ISB was very familiar with.

And that pretty human boy…

She shoved the thought away. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen handsome human men before; there had been plenty of them at the Academy and on Naboo.  Some of them had even treated her like she was a person.  It just usually took them a while to get around to that, unlike the man in Shaketown.

The doors of The Asteroid Belt slid open, spilling out light and sound and a pair of drunken Weequay, who had their arms around each other’s shoulders and a bottle in each dangling hand. They staggered out and into the muddy street, Hera instinctively drawing back into the shadows of the building behind her despite the fact they weren’t anywhere near her.

All right, she told herself.  All right, Syndulla, you can do this.  Go in, find her contact, and pretend to be a rebel sympathizer; hopefully this Hetto could lead the ISB to others who held his political beliefs.  It was called phishing – fairly harmless, as far as ISB assignments went, but critical to the security of the Empire.  Idle chatter on HoloNet message boards could easily translate into something more dangerous; it was best to put a stop to that kind of thing before it reached that point.

Hera took a deep breath, smoothed her gloved hands down her thighs, and crossed the street to the cantina. The doors slid open as she approached, making her flinch at the burst of sound – beings shouting in various languages, some kind of sports game on a vidscreen, someone singing.  Or maybe that was a jukebox; Hera couldn’t tell.

She hesitated on the threshold, then forced herself to step inside.  Her first reaction was to flinch – sound and people on all sides of her, making her lekku twitch and her hands clench, every instinct she had screaming for her to turn around and run away to the safe, quiet confines of the Ghost.  A table nearby boasted a sabacc game; one of the players was sprawled unconscious with his head on top of a small pile of credits, probably drunk, while his companions went on with their game.  Across from them, another group of beings was yelling at the pod race on the vidscreen mounted on one wall; others were engaged in other card games, shouted conversations, or what looked to be drinking games.  Hera looked frantically from side to side, uncertain how she was expected to identify her contact, let alone have a conversation with him. There were dozens of beings packed into the cantina’s space.

“Move it, lady!”

The speaker, a heavyset Devaronian, didn’t wait for Hera to respond, just shouldered her aside on his beeline to the bar.  Hera stumbled but didn’t fall, her fisted hands digging crescents into her palms. For lack of any better idea, she followed the Devaronian; maybe the bartender would know who she was looking for.

The Devaronian veered aside before he got there, and when Hera approached tentatively she saw that the bartender had his back to her, talking to a Sullustan woman behind the bar with him.  Hera resisted the urge to pull her hood closer around her face and found an empty spot at the bar to sit at while she waited for them to finish their conversation.

“– don’t know what they look like,” the Sullustan said.

“You don’t know what everyone looks like?” the human said, his voice dry, and Hera went still.  She had heard that voice before.

It was the human from the fight in Shaketown, the one she had seen getting between Count Vidian and the old man on Cynda.  The handsome one.

A burst of yelling from a nearby table made her miss what the Sullustan said in reply, but the human slapped his hands down on top of the bar and said sharply, “Zaluna, I don’t know who you are or who you think I am, but you do not know me.  I do not go around randomly helping people!”

“That’s not what I’ve heard about you,” Hera blurted out, and saw his shoulders stiffen.

A moment later he turned around, flashing a dazzling grin at her. “Hey, Hera,” he said. “What can I get you?”

Hera swallowed past a suddenly dry throat. “Information, if you’ve got it,” she said, pushing her hood back.

His smile widened, either in response to her words or her face. “Information I can do,” he said. “You want a drink to go with that?  On the house.”  He started to reach for one of the glasses racked on the shelves behind him.

“I’d better wait until I find my – my…the person I’m here to meet,” Hera said, stumbling over the words. “And I’m not much of a drinker anyway.”

“Well, when you find your guy,” he said, and winked at her. “I’m Kanan, by the way.  Kanan Jarrus.  You never asked before.”

Hera felt her mouth twitch. “Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting it to come up again.”

“That’s me,” he grinned. “Always surprising.  Who are you looking for, Hera?”

“Hera?” said the Sullustan woman, looking back and forth between them. “Are you Hera?”

Hera peered down at her. “I am.  And you’re…Hetto?”  She had been under the impression that Hetto was male, but you just never knew on the HoloNet.

“I’m a friend of Hetto’s,” the woman corrected. “He asked me to come here in his place and meet you.”

Hera frowned.  Had he realized that she was ISB?  Or was this another one of Agent Beneke’s tests?  She had thought that this was a real assignment.

Kanan was leaning on the bar, his sharp gaze belying his casual attitude.  As though he had sensed Hera’s distress, he said easily, “What happened to your friend, Zaluna?  He catch that flu that’s been going around?”

The Sullustan – Zaluna, apparently – twisted her hands together. “Oh, no.  He was – he was arrested.”

“Arrested?” Hera said, startled. “By who?  Local law enforcement?”

“I wish,” Zaluna said regretfully. “That would be easy to take care of.  No, he was arrested by the Empire.  There were stormtroopers all over Tr – where we work – today!”

“Stormtroopers?” Kanan whistled. “He must have done something pretty bad to get their attention. Or just been in the wrong place at the wrong time; they’re not exactly the most discriminating bunch.”

Zaluna looked between the two of them again, apparently trying to judge whether or not they were trustworthy.  Whatever she saw must have seemed promising to her, because she said, “Gorse and Cynda have been raised to Security Condition One – Count Vidian’s orders. One of the other surveillance teams must have caught Hetto saying something unfortunate.  He was never very good at…well.  Sometimes even if you do the work we do you get complacent.”

Hera shut her eyes. There went her whole mission. Maybe she should go and try and find Skelly again, just in case there was something to scavenge from that.  She already knew she was probably going to get rebuked for setting him free in the first place, but she had thought that if he had had real information – but he had just turned out to be a crackpot. That wasn’t even the ISB’s business; the locals could deal with that.  Count Vidian could deal with that, since the fixer the Empire had brought in to sort out the mining guilds seemed to like getting his hands dirty with even the most inconsequential of matters.

She wondered if Agent Beneke would accept that as the reason she hadn’t completed her mission.  She would have to contact him as soon as she got back to the Ghost…

She started to push herself away from the bar. “Well, thank you for letting me know about Hetto, Zaluna. I’m just sorry that I couldn’t meet him – we had a lot to talk about.”

“Hey, just because your friend’s not here isn’t a reason to leave,” Kanan said, straightening up, at the same time that Zaluna burst out, “Hetto wanted me to give you something.”

Hera turned back to them. “Give me something?”

Zaluna stood back on one heel, her expression uncertain again. “Maybe – maybe we could talk somewhere more –”

The sabacc table at the other end of the cantina suddenly erupted into shouting, beings leaping to their feet and waving cards, glasses, and – somewhat alarmingly – blasters. Kanan tensed, putting one hand down flat on top of the bar as if preparing to vault over it to deal with the mess, before a gray-haired human man bustled over to the table.  Kanan relaxed and looked back at Hera and Zaluna, who seemed just as stunned by the commotion as Hera felt.

“Somewhere more private? I’ve got just the table for you.”

The table in question turned out to be tucked away in a corner of the cantina, barely within line of sight of the main room.  It was marginally quieter, at least.  Zaluna took the chair with the best view, leaving Hera with her back to the door and her shoulders and lekku itching.  She had expected Kanan to lose interest and go back to the bar, but instead he seemed determined to insert himself into the conversation, which wasn’t very helpful for Hera’s purposes even if he was easy on the eyes.

She was preparing to tell him to leave when Zaluna leaned over the table and touched the back of her hand.  “I think you can trust him.  I’ve watched him longer than you have.  He helps people –”

Kanan shut his eyes, apparently in frustration.  Presumably “helpful” wasn’t an appellation he was particularly fond of.

“– though he makes a show of doing otherwise,” Zaluna finished firmly. “He stood up to Count Vidian just today.”

“I saw,” Hera said, remembering the confrontation on Cynda.

“You did?” Kanan blinked.

“You know, getting the attention of someone like that isn’t a very good idea,” Hera found herself saying. “Especially if Vidian’s arresting potential agitators.  I don’t think you’d enjoy spending time in an Imperial prison.”

Zaluna’s already large eyes widened. “Is that – is that where Hetto is?”

“Um –”  That was where he would have gone eventually, if Hera’s mission had gone as planned.  Eventually being the key word.  Now that was out of the question; it wasn’t as though Hera could march up to Count Vidian and demand that he be set free, since there was little chance that Vidian would believe that she was an Imperial agent even if she showed him her badge. From the little she had seen of him, she didn’t think that he would take very kindly to the ISB’s plan to use Hetto to bait other potential agitators on the HoloNet.

Apparently taking Hera’s hesitation as his cue, Kanan leaned over the table and patted Zaluna’s hand. “Maybe your friend’s just in a labor camp.”

Zaluna didn’t look reassured by this news.  Having seen a few Imperial labor camps when she had been in the Academy, Hera couldn’t blame her.

Dragging herself back to the present, Hera took a breath and squared her shoulders. “Hetto was arrested for speaking against the Empire.  How do you feel about the Empire, Zaluna?”

The other woman shifted uneasily, thinking this over.  Finally, she said, “I remember too much.  I remember how it was – and how it got worse, even before the Empire.  I remember when people didn’t kill guildmasters on a whim and walk away without a thought.  And I remember when my people were safe.”  She looked back and forth between Hera and Kanan, her huge dark eyes glistening with tears, then made a small sound that might have been a laugh. “It’s a good thing I disconnected the cams, isn’t it?  That’s the sort of thing I’d flag back at Transcept.  The sort of thing that gets a visit from stormtroopers if the wrong people overhear it.”  She cast a nervous glance around the cantina.

“There are no Imperial agents here, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Kanan said, following her gaze. “These are all one hundred percent pure shovel-carrying drunkards.  I’ve tussled with too many of them to think they’re plants for the Empire.”

Hera bit her lip at his words, though she supposed that did say wonders for her cover. “And you?” she had to ask. “What do you think of the Empire?”

He grinned at her. “As little as possible,” he said. “I could take it or leave it.”

[allurehq-blog]

blood status: pureblood clubs: slytherin prefect, chess club, slug club pronouns: he/they sexuality: up to player

BIOGRAPHY

to be written by player

CONNECTIONS

alecto carrow; the proposed. the malfoy family was one that used to incite fear and respect whenever it was spoken, a name within both the wizarding world and the pureblood society that evoked high regard. however, through a series of misfortunate marriages and events, the malfoy surname was slowly falling down in the ranks. no longer was it something to be revered, but rather something to be laughed at. abraxas malfoy was not willing to continue on with this familiarity. he was determined to bring back the same respect that the family name used to have - and in his opinion, it would begin with his children. for that reason, when he learned that he and his wife were expecting a son, it was imperative that he arrange a notable pureblood wife for his son. the carrows, in return, were looking for power - and so it seemed like a match that was made for one another. the two children became promised to one another as infants, growing up with the constant reminder that they were each other’s future, and that this was the only option for them. as a child, lucius felt proud to be given the responsibility to bring this honor back to his family. he may not have had a choice in the matter, but as he chose to see it - it was his job to do it, and he wasn’t going to let his family down. it didn’t matter that alecto didn’t seem interested in him at all on the occasions that the two of them met - that wasn’t a deterrent for lucius. he was the product of an arranged marriage, and he knew that his parents had learned to love one another, who says that he and alecto couldn’t follow suit? however, in the recent years, lucius is finding himself faced with a challenge of head versus heart. in his mind, he knows that going through with the marriage to alecto is what he’s supposed to do - they should marry and strengthen both of their names, as well as continue the pureblood lineage. however, in his heart, he’s beginning to wonder if something like that is even worth it anymore. to spend an lifetime with some one who doesn’t seem interested in him is scarier than he wants to admit. he’s a man of his word, and he’s a malfoy at heart - but he’s beginning to question both of those.

amycus carrow; the mistake. everyone who knew the carrow siblings knew that they were a package deal - there was never an instance where one went without the other. for that reason, when lucius and alecto were forced to spend time together as children, their parents hoping that they would become acquainted with each other, perhaps even falling in love - lucius would often finding himself spending time with amycus as well. which wasn’t a bad thing in the slightest, as the two of them becoming friends and bonding in the way that the parents hoped that he would with alecto. but amycus was more outgoing and rambunctious than his sibling -his personality was lucius’ speed, and it was unavoidable, the two of them becoming friends. lucius’s father would speak poorly of amycus, saying that it was strange of how close to two were, of how soon lucius would replace amycus as the most important man in alecto’s life, to which lucius would only nod his head. that wasn’t what he wanted - the last thing that he wanted was come between the twins. even if he and alecto were to marry, he didn’t want to be the one who would overtake amycus’ presence in their life. he respected alecto, and amycus - that was a whole different story on it’s own. they had grown up as friends, and it was something that carried on - the two of them spending plenty of time together and always communicating with each other. but as time passed and things changed, the lines between friendship and more slowly blurred into something unreadable. it lasted for a long time as just quiet tension, something that they hoped they could ignore and sweep under the rug, possibly something that would disappear on it’s own. but how wrong they were, as it slowly boiled over into an affair that neither of them saw coming. it’s filled with gazes that last too long, lingering touches in public, and bruising kisses behind closed doors. lucius knows that if his father were to find out what he’s been doing, it would destroy him - which is why lucius has been so insistent on keeping it a secret. it’s just sex, they’re just friends with benefits, it’ll end eventually - things that he continually tells both amycus and himself. but late at night, he can’t help but wonder how he managed to end up betrothed to the wrong carrow twin.

mary macdonald; the used. when it became clear to abraxas malfoy that perhaps the arranged marriage between lucius and alecto was not going to be as smooth as he hoped it was going to be, he began to try other things in an attempt to salvage the reputation of the malfoy family name. the most obvious and the most rewarding was a campaign for a postion within the ministry of magic. lucius was no stranger to lifestyle that seemed to come along with people intruding into his life, but there was a different sort of lack of privacy that this brought along. everyone in the wizarding world now wanted to know who the malfoy family was - for both good and bad reasons. they wanted to know what had driven them to run for a position within the ministry, they wanted to know what their intentions were, they wanted to if abraxas was as good of a man as he truly said he was - or if he was just a good liar. and because he didn’t necessarily have the evidence to back up his claims and his stories of the good things that he’d done before, he chose to go for something much grander - a publicity stunt that would leave people talking of his graciousness. to show how kind his heart was, abraxas took in a foster child - a girl the same age of his only son, speaking of how these matters were important to him and how if elected to his position, he’d work to make sure that they ended. these were things that he said in front of the cameras and the microphones, of course. behind the scenes, what lucius saw was a cold indifference to the girl, as if she was a prop that was only to be used when it mattered. and though lucius does greatly believe in his family name, he does believe there is a line that would need to be drawn at some point, and he sees that with mary, the line has been crossed. the two of them do not speak, as mary keeps to herself and avoids the family as much as possible when she is around the malfoy estate. 

kingsley shacklebolt; the annoyance. lucius has a very strong personality, something that is evident as soon as he opens his mouth. he says what he thinks and how he feels without the slightest bit of worry or hesitation, because he knows that his opinion is worthwhile of hearing. as an only child, he’s been made to feel that he should be the center of attention at all times, and that his voice is the voice of reason - even when it clearly is not. his overdramatic nature comes into play at the times when he finds that he’s being ignored or spoken over. by now, most people have either learned to live with or ignore these tendencies, as they’re just seen as being who lucius is as a person. however, there is a person who never fails to call him out or roll his eyes at lucius’ mannerisms, and that’s kingsley shacklebolt. it’s not really surprising, considering that the two of them couldn’t be more different - where lucius is theatrical and prideful, kingsley is down to earth and practical. even the families seem to come from two different worlds in the pureblood society. the malfoys stake claim in the respect that their name gives them, reaping the benefits of surname and continuing to try to grow it. the shacklebolts, on the other hand, have a different approach - not necessarily putting too much care or thought into their place in the sacred twenty eight, not advocating the pureblood ideals. although they are not friends or even classmates, mutual shared acquaintances often leave them running in similar circles with one another. and on the moments that the two of them end up in the same room - or even in the same conversation with one another, the tension is quick to arrive and announce itself. there’s no lack of contention or animosity between them, announcing itself in traded barbs and insults that only grow more heated as the time continues to pass.

LUCIUS MALFOY IS PORTRAYED BY LEE HYUN JAE, AND HE IS OPEN FOR APPLICATION.

[darknesscall-rp]

✖ full name: Sophia Celia Wilkes ✖ age: 20 ✖ preferred pronouns: She/her ✖ affiliation: Death eaters (marked) ✖ occupation: Socialitè  ✖ blood status: Pureblood ✖ former house: Slytherin

✖ checked information (x) ✖ face claim: Elizabeth Gillies

(recollected by Rita Skeeter. Sources can be less than reliable.)

✖ Everyone knows Sophia Wilkes. Constantly causing havoc, being extremely loud, or going from bed to bed; she always finds a way to make a mess of her reputation. ✖ She gives people a strange feeling when they’re around her. Like an urgent need to run the other way but wanting to stay at the same time. She’s creepy. ✖ Isn’t she engaged now? I pity that poor man.

Sophia Celia Wilkes was born during a vacation in France, into an old pureblood house, as the only daughter of Zachariah and Olivia Wilkes, neé Nott. Her father’s family was wealthy and with a good enough reputation, but since they weren’t part of the sacred 28 and he wasn’t even the older heir; the man wasn’t really the most coveted bachelor among society. It was his charm and his incredible wits that led him to win olivia over, despite the initial disapproval of her family. It only took one summer for him to put a diamond ring on her finger. The wedding was celebrated shortly afterwards and the little one came soon enough. They never tried to have any more children. Zachariah wanted more than anything to put the Wilkes family name on top of the food chain again, something his older brother - Sophia’s uncle - wasn’t interested in doing. It wasn’t long before his efforts paid off. He managed to become head of magical law enforcement and ran the department with an iron fist, always putting the pureblood society's needs first. His family always came second. He got bored of being a husband fast enough, devoting himself to his work and other less than decent pleasures; while his wife stayed at home with the newly born baby girl.

Sophia’s childhood was a very lonely one. Her father was barely home and even though all his attention was directed towards her when he did, it was never enough. She wanted more, she always did and always would, and that was going to be her gift and her curse in the future. Feeling insecure and compared to all the younger lovers her husband didn’t even try to hide; Olivia slowly developed and obsession with staying young and beautiful. At the beginning, her relationship with her daughter was nothing but indifferent. She had never wanted any children and the only reason Sophia existed was to establish a bound between her and the man she had married. As soon as the little girl started to blossom things quickly changed. Moments with her mother became unbearable, and every second at home made Sophia feel she was losing her mind. The only times she felt she could breath again was during summers with her cousin and her grandmother. After Sophia’s grandfather had passed away, Moira Wilkes (neé karkaroff) had re-married to a powerful french patriarch and settled down in a massive state in Provence. Most of the time spent there, surrounded by cousins and friends, was going to become the only good memories of her past and the ones she clings on to desperately until this day.

Her magical abilities started developing from a young age. When she turned six, she was able to produce small and volatile spurs of flames. But soon enough her parents started to worry, since she showed incapable of doing little else until she was ten years old. Hogwarts also became an escape. Being sorted into Slytherin she immediately found people who were raised under the same ideals and notions as her. It was almost like having a real home. The Dark Arts were extremely attractive to her from the very beginning. Becoming friends with students who wanted to learn as much as she did; they were able to teach themselves and each other a great deal of new spells and secrets. Dark magic completely fascinated the Wilkes girl and she soon discovered she was quite talented at it. She especially devoted herself to encourage that little piece of innate magic she had been born with, and until this day she's able to cast small fires without her wand.

Very much like a hurricane, her hunger for power and knowledge grew fast with every passing day. Sophia was - above all - ambitious. Having grown up in a household in which feelings were a sign of weakness, she did everything in her power to keep them hidden. She only trusted herself and didn’t let anyone get too close. Nonetheless sometimes those emotions found their way out and she discovered herself unable to control them. That was when she started to be terrified of her own nature.

When she was fifteen she started running away from home and spending nights out. Her parents didn’t even notice. At the age of sixteen she began flirting with the thought of becoming a Death Eater upon discovering one of her suitors had long joined the Dark Lord. The power it seemed to give him was too alluring to resist. As all talks of betrothal for her did, this courtship ended up in nothing; but she didn’t give up on the idea. She finally reached her goal at the age of seventeen after a particularly strange incident that ended up with one of her class mates dead and her body mysteriously found inside the forbidden forest. No one ever found out who had killed the poor muggle born girl and the case was eventually closed and classified as a death eater attack. That cover up cost Sophia both her loyalty and part of her freedom. "Favours aren't for free", the man who had come to her aid had told her; and she learned the lesson. Right after graduation, there was a shiny new dark mark on her forearm.

Life for the young woman seemed to be pretty easy for a while after that event. Sophia felt like she was finally getting everything she had ever wanted. She knew the right way of making important allies and positioning herself under the right people’s wings. Her power and position escalated swiftly and quickly, but glory couldn’t last forever. Two years after finishing school, she received the news that her father was dead. Feeling more devastated than she thought she would, Sophia immediately went to France in order to attend the funeral and pay her respects to the man that had raised her - or at least tried to -. After the ceremony, she had a terrible fight with her mother. Insults and curses were fired and thrown, but Sophia wasn’t a helpless little girl anymore. Her mother underestimated both her abilities and the twisted darkness ever growing inside her. After torturing the woman who had given birth to her all the way into insanity she found herself vulnerable, in danger and completely alone. Olivia's family was powerful, had a higher status and a severe lack of appreciation for her daughter’s unwanted girl. As she always did, she turned to her allies for help. Her grandmother told her she needed to find protection and assured her that this time the price of getting away with it was going to be a lot higher. That was when an old suitor came back to collect his favours, the same one who had helped her the last time; a man that was equally attractive and terrifying in her eyes. Using her beauty and body as a weapon was an unbreakable habit for her, but Andrew Yaxley had been always a dangerous and much superior target. It was time for independent and rebellious Sophia Wilkes to make a choice.

After spending some months in France, she returned to the country to reunite with everyone she had left behind. No one knew where she had been since the news of what had happened to her father had trascended and she had strict instructions only to reveal that her mother had passed away as well and that she was ready to continue serving the Dark Lord. Only this time she had a ring on her finger and a wedding to plan.

Gaspard Wilkes: Cousin, trusts him with her life. Andrew Yaxley: Recently engaged to, scared of. Rabastan Lestrange: Childhood friend, complicated.  Alecto, Amycus Carrow: Partners in crime. Bellatrix Lestrange: Admires, role model.  Alice Fortescue: Unlikely friend.

[lostinthedark-rp]

“I supposed there must be a hundred different ways of being in love, but I bet you I can find the one to suit.”

Emma Vanity

Affiliation: Neutral

Age: Eighteen

Availability: CLOSED

Faceclaim: Camila Mendes

+ Tenacious + Observant + Romantic - Stubborn - Opinionated - Opportunistic

Emma Vanity was born to privilege, her name said it all. She grew up in a world that was all glitter and sparkle, one of the few fortunate children of the pureblood ranks. Her parents adored her, she was a model-- an artist with all of the drive and mess that came along with it. When she wasn't posing for a camera or advertisement she was painting glorious landscapes. A vivacious child with little to worry over. She wasn't exactly wild, she was content. Her friends were a mix of muggle and wizards, but as a child it mattered little to her parents. Oddly, while many were ignorant of the outside world, Emma had embraced it with a gusto. The modeling had her with muggles often, her grandmother had been a half blood and while that mattered not to Emma, apparently it was an important issue to the world around her.

She was observant for someone her age-- and when she was working on a shoot in Paris she was handed a book by a muggle author; Jane Austen. It was titled Emma she couldn't resist the read, nor could she resist any of the woman's other books. It was like reading about Pureblood society in the pages of intrigue, scandal and above all else there was love. Emma was a romantic at heart and the book baring her name became a very big influence on her life. She wanted everyone to find love, and in the world of purebloods and arranged marriages that wasn't so easy to find.

When she was sorted into Slytherin she was fine with the house choice, she knew a lot of the people there from the parties that were often thrown around pureblood society. Her work with muggles was never a topic of conversation, especially when she began to hear the stirring. Everyone was speaking about the Dark Lord, the one who would rid them all of muggle borns and the purity would continue. Emma; decided to turn a deaf ear to the dark murmurings. It was too scary really, and if she didn't pay attention to it she didn't have to worry about it. Besides she had a goal to focus on.

Finding love matches that families would find suitable for marriage.

Thought out school she got a reputation for setting people up and making things work, even in other houses they knew her name. Though that wasn't her only passion, Emma was swift as could be on a broom and it showed when she wrangled the caption position for her house the second year. She made a rival in one Lucinda Talkalot but she would have had to think she was a threat for there to be a real rivalry. Lucinda hated her and really-- Emma couldn't have cared less. One less person to work on making their life better, one less person to deal with. No matter what Lucinda did to Emma, she ignored her with a wave of her hand as if she were nothing more than a gnat buzzing around her face. Turning rival, to enemy despite Emma's lack of effort in that certain area. She didn't care, which only made Lucinda even angrier.

School went by in a breeze, Emma got her reputation for being the one to talk to if you were having romantic trouble though she never had any kind of romance of her own. Her final year at school she backed away from Quidditch, it wasn't what she wanted to focus on and relinquished the spot to Lucinda. Only making the other girl hate her more because of her nonchalant attitude towards the entire thing. She was too focused on her mission, single-mindedly heading towards her goal.

She wanted a column in the Prophet, "Dear Emma". People would send their questions and she would answer them, advice on romance while she attempted to make her own matchmaking business. Knowing that those kinds of things don't happen right away she got a job at the ministry filing paperwork for the International Magical Office of Law as an intern. It's not a step anywhere near what she wants to do, but she doesn’t plan on letting her dreams vanish becasue of a tiny hickup.

EMMELINE VANCE: Friend, coworker - Emma never noticed Emmeline in school, not really because of their house difference but because she never popped up on her radar. But once they started working together, Emma wasn’t sure how she’d ever done without her. Her life mission right now is to find Emmeline the perfect man, and that isn't easy with her friend’s constant grousing to the contrary. She’ll get the right guy for her friend. After all, everyone deserves true love.

ALECTO CARROW:  Former Friend - While in school for some reason, she and Alecto were friends. Something about the crazy girl was just easy for Emma to be around, yet as they got older they got more distant and the realisation that Alecto was dangerous hit Emma harder than she would like to admit.

NATHAN MULCIBER: Fling - Emma didn’t really remember sleeping with Nathan, the slytherin did throw the best parties.  But she knew that there was something up with him, and while he was charming, he was also shallow and pedantic. Neither of which she wanted to really associate with.

ALTERNATE FC OPTIONS: Seychelle Gabriel, Kelsey Chow

[narcissasdaffodil]

Flufftober 2020

Day 7: Dancing

Alecto was far from the type of person who enjoyed dancing, so the fact that she had decided to attend prom was definitely rather odd. She was regretting her decision too, being sat on a table with former friends was very awkward. She had just retreated into herself while they discussed things she had no interest in, and they were clearly ignoring her. She had spent the night so far either staring at her phone or just staring into space, wanting it to be over. To her surprise, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at Marisol standing behind her.

“Um, hey. Would you like to dance by any chance? Or at least have a walk with me?” Marisol asked.

Alecto slipped her phone into her bag and stood, linking her arm with Marisol’s.

“I can’t dance to save my life. I’ll give you a warning there, but I’m craving change of some sort, so why not?” She pushed her glasses up her nose with her other hand, looking over at Marisol and noticing the wide grin on the other girl’s face. Wow. Does spending time with you make her that happy, then? You’ve sat next to each other in multiple classes for ages, and you deserve to have a friend or maybe something more who treats you like a real person and not just the second rate version of Quinn.

She realised how quiet they had been, but it felt natural and welcome, like a pause in a conversation. Someone who appreciates a bit of silence was rare, for too long she’d been around people who had to talk all of the time and loved the sound of their own voices that much. Both Étienne and Andromeda, her ex best friends, fit into that category. She supposed it was fitting that they were now together, being stuck on a table with them was difficult to say the least. She only realised her forehead had become creased with worry lines when Marisol gently put her hand to it.

“Are you okay? You seem to be thinking quite hard over there. I hope this isn’t too forward of me, but you’ve appeared off all night. Anyway there’s room at my table if you want to move, the others are also okay with it. If you’d like, that is.” Marisol said. That’s definitely kind of her, and you’ll take her up on that too.

“Sure, it would be my pleasure to join you.” She smiled, leading Marisol to the dance floor. The fact she was actually going to dance was strange, she was normally so concerned with other people’s opinions of her and not wanting to make a fool out of herself. For some reason, her masks and shields she used for protection all came down around the other girl.

She started to settle into the music, feeling herself let go of her tension. She really, really couldn’t dance to save her life, but for some reason that no longer mattered. She tripped over her own foot, and expected to go splat, but Marisol caught her, and dipped her slightly, settling her into a two person dance and making the accident look natural. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and maybe, just maybe, something more... Uh oh, has crush mode been activated again?

She felt herself settle into Marisol’s arms for a couple more songs, until she wobbled slightly again.

“Let’s go sit down. You look really wobbly on your feet.” Marisol settled an arm around her shoulders, to Alecto’s surprise, she leans into it instead of her usual instincts to move away. Touch was something very personal to her, she had to be comfortable with someone before she’d allow them to maintain physical contact. She wobbled again, and a sharp burst of pain went through her foot.

“Ow! I think I might’ve done something to my ankle.” Marisol helped her limp over to the table and helped her sit down. “I’ll be fine if I stay off it for the rest of the night. I think I went over on it slightly earlier and it took a bit of time for me to react. You can go back to dancing if you like.”

She looked back at Marisol and to her surprise the other girl was blushing.

“Um...I’ve got a slight confession to make. I kind of used dancing as an excuse to spend some time with you. I want to get to know you better, you intrigue me a bit. And you deserve much better than being stuck with that lot. I know I don’t know you all that well, but I see the way they treat you and know you’re worth more than that. So I’d be fine spending time with you here.” Marisol gave her a wide smile, sitting down next to her.

To Alecto’s surprise, her ankle wasn’t even a blip on her radar. She felt like she was consumed by a strange warm feeling she struggled to explain fully, that consumed her every waking minute. She was hanging on Marisol’s every word and properly invested in everything she was saying. She felt like a pot of sunshine was exploding within her and loved every minute.

“This may be a little forward of me, but do you want to come back with me, later? Or now? I’ll call my dad eventually but I want to spend more time with you.” Alecto asked. She was a little bit nervous, she felt her hand shake on the table until Marisol linked hers together with it.

“Sure. You’ve made my night, I’ll just give my parents a heads up, but I’d love to.” Marisol’s face lit up with a wide grin, she fished her phone from her bag and quickly texted her parents.

“It’s a little noisy in here, so could you help me outside? Thanks.” She asked.

It felt different to leave the room and to go outside into the fresh night air, it was so welcome after dealing with the stuffy room. She perched on the steps, and called her dad. It was cold, but the adrenaline rush made her not feel the cold night, she pulled Marisol closer to her as they waited.