#anyway i can’t decide if this is james potter core or if james would just fucking deal w the spider normally

[otrtbs]

nat news. i just. fully showered with my glasses on even tho they kept fogging up and i had to towel them off every .3 seconds because there was a spider (daddy long leg) in the corner of my shower and i was worried it was gonna get me. BC IM BLIND I COULDNT SEE IF IT WAS MOVING WITHOUT MY GLASSES.

now mind u, i had already hairsprayed this spider to, what i thought was, death. but alas, he persisted so naturally i figured he was looking for revenge.

anyway #worstshowerever

[earth2pearl]

Can I have a jegulus fic where they pretend to date so James can make Lily jealous, but then he realizes he’s in love with Regulus but Regulus doesn’t believe him and yeah a lot of angst with a happy ending?

That was a lot and I’m sorry. But please and thank you bestie!! 🫶🏼

Fake Dating

Chapter 1 — Bad Ideas

Regulus enjoyed admiring James the same way a person marvels at the stars. He watches from a distance, knowing if he got too close he would only get burned. Today was no different. Regulus sat in the back corner of the library, intending to study but losing focus when he noticed the messy-haired boy sitting with his friends. Regulus stared longingly, a spark of jealousy for his brother balling inside him, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. It wasn’t fair. Sirius got to get as close as he wanted, immune from James’ burning aura. Regulus desperately wished he could approach him and open the floodgates of his feelings. But Regulus knew James could never like someone like him and decided it was pointless to stay in the library when he had schoolwork he desperately needed to get done. He settled on packing his bag and leaving, refusing to give the man he desperately wanted another glance.

—

James adored the red-headed girl he shared many classes with. She was lovely to be around, had a witty personality, and was selflessness down to her core. James enjoyed her company; plus, his parents would adore her as well. She was sweet when she wanted to be, but also had a bite. James supposed this was what love felt like.

There was only one slight issue: Lily didn’t seem to reciprocate James’ feelings. Not that James would ever force someone into a relationship, that would be awful, but he believed people occasionally need a little nudge.

James had tried many ways to nudge the girl and was quickly running out of ideas. He was brainstorming a new way to ask out Evans when Sirius spoke up interrupting his thoughts.

“Did you hear my darling baby brother is crushing on someone?”

James looked at him quizzically, not sure where this was coming from.

“Since when do you keep up with Regulus?” he asked curiously.

“Doesn’t matter. He’s apparently after his best friend Barty, but that man is so far up Evan’s ass I’m surprised they aren’t a thing yet,” Sirius replied with a grimace.

“Sirius, I’m sure others think the same about you when you���re with Remus,” Peter chimed in, causing the boy Sirius had his head leaned on to snort.

“But Petey dear, I am dating Remus. I get to follow him like a lost puppy,” Sirius declared, throwing in a wink “Anyways, I just thought it was quite funny. He would be the one to fall in love with someone he can’t have.”

—

James was running out of options and fast. He needed to get Evans to like him before the end of the term. It was already 6th year, and she wasn’t budging. James was so deep in thought he didn’t see the boy in front of him, knocking the books right out of his hands, the impact ripping him from the little world in his head.

“I am so sorry I wasn’t paying attention this is all my fault,” James rambled, not looking at the person he ran into, instead bending to gather the things he caused to clatter to the floor.

“You should walk with your eyes open Potter,” Regulus snapped, his usual venom faltering.

“I’m sorry baby Black,” James joked with a smile, handing the items to him.

He was going to walk away but realized Regulus' face had tinted a shade of pink. He blinked a few times, convinced he was imagining things.

“Great, well, I’ll be going.”

Regulus pushed passed James, and the taller man watched as he made his way down the hall and around the corner. James was trying to process what just happened when he got a brilliant idea.

—

Regulus had thrown himself onto his bed, staring straight up at the ceiling. His heart was beating out of his chest, and he thanked Merlin he had finished his classes for the day. Running into James was a terrible accident, and Regulus wonders if the universe thought it was funny. One second he’s daydreaming about the other man and the next he’s helplessly watching him gather the belongings he knocked out of his arms. And to ice the cake, he had called him baby. Well, ‘baby black,’ but the second word was irrelevant.

James had gotten too close for comfort, and Regulus did not appreciate the lasting burn it left on his body. Usually, he could control his emotions; he had a lot of practice. But when it came to the tall, messy-haired boy Regulus lost his grip. He couldn’t tell if he loved or loathed it.

Once Regulus’ heart began to beat at a normal pace again, the boy gathered his things and headed to the library. His potions essay would not wait for him to get over his crush on a boy he couldn’t have.

—

James paced up and down his dorm, waiting for his friends to return from their last lesson of the day. Soon the barking laugh of Sirius could be heard ascending the stairs and James took a deep breath. A vital part of this plan included the approval of the raven-haired boy.

“Prongs! What are you doing here instead of the pitch?”

“I have an idea, but I need your approval before I go ahead with the idea,” James explained, running a hand through his hair and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at the other boy, instinctively moving towards Remus who had accompanied him to the dorms.

“And why do you need my approval?” he questioned with a suspicious frown.

“It involves your younger brother.”

A pause in the conversation turned into a long silence, the older Black brother’s face holding a look James rarely saw anymore. He began to fidget even more, scared Sirius would never speak to him again.

“And how exactly does it include him?”

“You won’t like that either.”

“Spill.”

“So, you know how I really, really want Evans to reciprocate my feelings for her? Well, I thought, y’know, since Regulus also seemed to be struggling with getting Barty to like him, we could maybe help each other out?”

“And how exactly could you two do that?” Sirius questioned, anger slipping from his words and replaced with curiosity.

“Wecouldfakedate”

“Prongs I’m going to need you to tell me in English.”

“Regulus and I could pretend to date each other. I’d make Lily jealous and Regulus would make Barty Jealous. It would be perfect.”

Sirius stared at James for a while, his face blank. Slowly a sardonic smile spread across his face, and a barking laugh tumbled out of his mouth.

“I approve, only because he’d never agree to it,” he smugly replied.

James deflated. “You really think so?”

“I know so.”

“Sirius-“ Remus interjected, flashing James an apologetic look.

“What? It’s Regulus. He’d never agree to this. Plus, what would my parents say?”

“Sirius…. Regulus doesn’t live with them anymore.”

Both James and Sirius’ heads snapped to look at the amber-eyed boy in disbelief.

“What do you mean Rem?” Sirius mumbled.

“He’s been living with the Rosiers Darling. He left at the end of last year.”

“How the fuck do you know this?”

“Sometimes we have prefect rounds together love. We don’t usually talk but one night he just spilled everything. I thought you knew.”

Sirius looked at the other man, an expression of hurt painting his face before quickly flashing away.

“Oh,” is all he said, leaning his face into the other man’s chest. Remus wrapped his arms around him, whispering an apology to James. James stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do with himself.

“James?” came a muffled voice.

“Yeah, Pads?”

“Just don’t hurt him, yeah?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

—

Regulus was in his usual corner, mind lost in the text his eyes scanned. He was so focused he didn’t notice the man that plagued his every moment standing across the table from where he sat.

“Regulus?” he heard, snapping his head up at the familiar voice.

“James?” he responded, completely caught off guard.

“Can we talk? I think I know a way we can help each other out.”

What?

“Potter I highly doubt you could be of any help to me,” he seethed, hoping he would get the hint and go away.

Regulus scoffed when he instead plopped down in the seat he was standing by.

“I heard about your crush on Barty. And I think just about everyone knows I have my eyes on Lily. So-“

“Who told you that?”

“What?”

Regulus had to fight desperately to hold in a laugh.

“That I have a thing for Barty?”

“Oh um, I’m not sure. I'm guessing you don’t then?” James responded, a slight frown painting his face.

Before Regulus could stop himself he spilled the first thing he could think of that would make the other man‘s smile return.

“No, I do,” he blurted with a grimace. “I just need to know who to silence is all.”

James’ bright, sunny smile came back, Regulus feeling it burn into his memory. He loved that smile, and to have it directed at him made him feel lightheaded.

“Perfect. I have a proposition.”

“I’m surprised you know that word.”

“Oh, ha ha. Would you like to hear it or not?”

“Against my better judgment, yes.”

“We could pretend to date to make them jealous.”

It took everything in Regulus not to pull a face, keeping his calm, nonchalant demeanor intact.

Did I hear that right? I’ve lost it. I’ve finally lost my sanity. I’ve gone crazy. There is no way James just asked me to pretend to date him. Am I just a pawn to him? No, he thinks he’s also helping me. It wouldn’t hurt to say yes, would it? I mean… if it’s my only chance to ever experience his burn and not feel the pain, why shouldn’t I take it? This is going to hurt. Fuck it, I’ll deal with that later.

“Okay,” he replied, leaning back into his chair.

“Okay?”

“We can pretend to date.”

James beamed brightly, and Regulus realized just how screwed he was.

—

Chapter 2

I hope you like it so far! Thank you for reading!!

[aidanchaser]

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero @magic713m @ccboomer @aubsenroute @somebodyswatson

Chapter Seven The Will of Albus Dumbledore

Harry promised his parents that he would be fine. He was seventeen, after all, and if the Minister for Magic needed to speak with him, then he did not need his parents with him. He wanted their support, certainly, and wouldn’t mind reliving that Christmas when he and his parents had teamed up against the Minister, but he wanted to — needed to — do this on his own.

And anyway, he wasn’t entirely alone. His friends were crammed onto the sofa in the Weasley’s sitting room with him. Harry glanced at Ron, who was trying and failing to stabilise the stack of blankets that had occupied his seat, since the sofa had been George’s temporary bed for the last week. Hermione stared directly at Scrimgeour, as fiercely as Lily might have, and Neville struggled to extricate a pillow that had been wedged between his back and the sofa’s. It was not successful and he gave up, deciding instead to stare curiously at the Minister’s shoes.

Rufus Scrimgeour sank into the armchair that Mr Weasley usually sat in. He leaned heavily on his cane, and his face was gaunt and tired, far more worn than it had been at Christmas. The past six months had not been kind to the Minister for Magic.

“I have some questions for the four of you, and I think it will be best if we do it individually,” Scrimgeour said. “If the rest of you would wait upstairs, I’ll begin with Mr. Weasley.”

“We aren’t going anywhere,” Harry said quickly. Not only would he not leave his friends, they were wedged rather tightly into the sofa. He did not want to wriggle his way out of it.

“You may speak to us together,” Hermione said, “or not at all.”

Scrimgeour surveyed the four of them. He was a man who chose his battles carefully. Peace, however, won out for the moment, and Scrimgeour shrugged.

“Very well, then,” he said and reached into his coat. “As I said, I am here to read Albus Dumbledore’s will.”

Neville frowned and looked up from the Minister’s shoes. “Dumbledore died over a month ago. Why did you wait so long?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Hermione said in a voice much cooler than she usually used when explaining things to Neville. “They wanted to examine whatever he’s left us.”

“Wait,” Neville frowned, “you mean Dumbledore’s left us things? But —”

“You had no right to do that,” Harry interrupted and glared at Scrimgeour. “Whatever he’s left us —”

“I had every right,” said Scrimgeour, and removed a large mokeskin pouch from his robes. “The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power to confiscate the contents of a will —”

“That law,” Hermione said, “was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artifacts, and the Ministry is supposed to have powerful evidence that the deceased’s possessions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to pass us something cursed?”

Scrimgeour answered Hermione’s question with another question. “Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Granger?”

Hermione snorted. “No, I’m hoping to do some good in the world.”

Ron did his best to disguise his sudden laughter in a cough. When he had control again, he asked, “Well, Minister, have you decided to let us have our things now?”

Though Scrimgeour himself seemed to have grown thin and weary, his sharp gaze had not dulled. His lion-like eyes turned on Ron, but not to answer Ron’s question. “Would you say you were close to Dumbledore, Ronald?”

Ron blinked. “Me? Not — not really. It was always Harry who…”

Too late, he realised Hermione and Harry were glaring daggers at him. Scrimgeour pounced.

“If you were not very close to Dumbledore, how do you account for the fact that he remembered you in his will? He made exceptionally few personal bequests. The vast majority of his possessions — his private library, his magical instruments, and other personal effects — were left to Hogwarts. Why do you think you were singled out?”

“I dunno.” Ron scratched behind his ear, and his elbow knocked into Harry’s shoulder. “I… when I say we weren’t close… I mean, I think he liked me…”

“You’re being modest, Ron,” Hermione said. “Dumbledore was very fond of you.”

“Er —”

Scrimgeour was no longer listening, however, as he opened the drawstring pouch and withdrew a scroll. He cleared his throat and read, “‘The Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore’... Yes, here we are… ‘To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it.’”

Scrimgeour reached into the drawstring pouch once more and pulled out a small silver cylinder that fit in the palm of his hand.

Harry was not sure he had ever seen anything like the device as Scrimgeour passed it to Ron. Ron turned it over in his hands and stared at it. He risked a glance at Harry, but Harry did not have any answers for Ron.

“It’s a very valuable object,” Scrimgeour said, his critical gaze focused entirely on Ron’s reaction. “It may even be unique. It has the ability to remove and restore light. Certainly it is of Dumbledore’s own design. Why would he have left you an item so rare?”

When Ron shook his head in disbelief, Scrimgeour pressed on.

“Dumbledore must have taught thousands of students, yet the only ones that he remembered in his will are you four. Why should —”

“Just us four?” Harry asked. “No one else?”

Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow and looked at Harry. “Only you four. Is there someone else you think he should have remembered?”

Hastily, Harry shook his head. “No — no one comes to mind. I just thought… er — perhaps he would have left my parents something.”

But Harry was not thinking of his parents; he was thinking of Cedric. Dumbledore had known that Harry had shared the prophecy and the quest with Cedric Diggory, just as he had shared it with Ron, Hermione, and Neville. Why had Dumbledore decided to leave Cedric out?

Scrimgeour returned to the will and read, “‘To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive.’���

From the pouch, Scrimgeour withdrew a small book with a worn cover and dog-eared pages. Hermione ran her fingers over the faded cloth stretched across the front. It was fraying in the corner and under her thumb. Two tears fell onto the book and she hastily wiped them away.

“Why do you think Dumbledore left you that book, Miss Granger?” Scrimgeour asked.

Hermione dried her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper. “He… he knew I liked books.”

“But why that particular book?”

Harry had the same question. Hermione loved to read, but a book of children’s fairytales hardly seemed the sort of thing she would be interested in, and Dumbledore must have known that.

“I don’t know. He must have thought I would enjoy them.”

“Did you ever discuss codes, or any means of passing secret messages with Dumbledore?”

“No,” she sniffed. “And if the Ministry hasn’t found any hidden codes in this book, then I doubt that I will.”

Neville patted Hermione’s arm, then froze as Scrimgeour read his name.

“‘To Neville Franciscus Longbottom, I leave a phoenix tail feather, as a reminder of his exceptional loyalty to his friends, and that we will always grow from our failures.’” Scrimgeour retrieved a red and gold feather from the pouch that shimmered, even in the dim light of the sitting room.

Neville stared at it in awe, frozen until Hermione gently nudged him, and he reached for it.

“It’s warm,” he said in surprise.

“It’s an incredibly valuable gift,” Scrimgeour said. “It has many uses, most commonly in wand cores.” He looked at Harry as he said this.

Harry did his best to keep his face neutral, and his emotions calm as he had been taught in his Occlumency lessons, but his mind buzzed with this information.

It was most likely a feather from Fawkes, whose feathers had also been given to make Harry and Voldemort’s wands. To give this feather to Neville, who had so nearly been marked the way Harry had been…

“Are you fond of phoenixes, Mr Longbottom?” Scrimgeour asked, but he kept his gaze on Harry.

“Er, no — I mean, not exactly.” Neville continued staring at the feather, entranced. “I fail a lot though.”

Scrimgeour examined Neville, but decided there was nothing more to be gained there. He reached into the pouch almost eagerly this time, as he read the next line.

“‘To Harry James Potter, I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.’”

He pulled out a velvet cloth and carefully unwrapped it to reveal a golden Snitch, silver wings fluttering in his grasp.

Harry stared at it, not entirely comprehending. He had hoped it would be something that could destroy a Horcrux, or perhaps even a Horcrux, though he did not think something like that would have been able to slip past the Ministry.

“Why did Dumbledore leave you this Snitch?” Scrimgeour asked.

Harry shrugged. “For the reasons you just read out, I suppose. To remind me what you can get if you persevere and whatever it was.”

“You think this is a mere symbolic keepsake, then?”

Harry looked Scrimgeour in the eyes. “What else could it be?”

“I’m the one asking the questions,” Scrimgeour snapped. “I noticed that your birthday cake is in the shape of a Snitch.”

Harry looked down at his jumper, where Mrs Weasley had knitted in a Snitch. “Yeah, bit weird, isn’t it? Dunno why people keep giving me Snitch-related things. My Dad’s even called me Snitch since I was about four. Can’t imagine why.”

“Perhaps it’s all been a secret encoded message from Dumbledore,” Hermione scoffed. “If we cut open your cake, we’ll find secret instructions inside.”

“I don’t believe there is anything hidden in your cake,” Scrimgeour said, “but a Snitch would be a very good hiding place for a small object.”

Harry understood, and it was why he had not reached for the Snitch yet. Snitches had flesh memories, and it would remember and react to Harry’s hand. Perhaps Dumbledore had charmed it to react in a particular way, perhaps there was a clue inside…

“Take it,” Scrimgeour said.

Harry swallowed, wishing he had a way to take the Snitch with the sleeve of his jumper, or some way to disguise it to Scrimgeour, but he came up with nothing. He reached for the Snitch, and as his fingers brushed the golden ball, the silver wings stilled and the Snitch fell limp in his hand.

Harry watched Scrimgeour’s eager expression fade into disappointment.

“That was dramatic,” Harry said.

Ron, Hermione, and Neville laughed. Scrimgeour scowled.

“That’s all then, is it?” Hermione asked, and tried to unstick herself from her very tight position between Harry and Neville.

“Not quite,” Scrimgeour said. “Dumbledore left you a second bequest, Potter.”

Harry’s hand tightened around the Snitch and his heart raced. “What is it?”

“The Sword of Godric Gryffindor.”

“Do you have it?” he asked, and tried not to sound eager.

“The Sword is not Dumbledore’s to give away,” Scrimgeour said. “The Sword of Godric Gryffindor is an important historical artefact, and as such, belongs to the Wizarding World as a whole, and, in any case, the Sword is currently missing. It has not been recovered since the Death Eaters’ attack on Hogwarts. Now why do you think, Mr. Potter, that Dumbledore would leave you the Sword of Godric Gryffindor?”

Harry knew exactly why Dumbledore had left it to him. He wished the Ministry had at least brought him the Sorting Hat. Maybe he could try to summon the Sword as he had in the Chamber of Secrets and destroy the diadem with it.

“I dunno,” Harry said, “maybe he thought it would look nice on my wall.”

“This is not a joke, Potter!”

“No, it isn’t.” Harry very carefully kept his voice cool, and refused to meet Scrimgeour’s temper. “It wasn’t a joke when I told the world that Voldemort came back. It wasn’t a joke when my parents came to the Ministry and told them how Umbridge was torturing her students. It wasn’t a joke when I told you that Yaxley was there the night that Dumbledore died, helping the Death Eaters, but it didn’t seem to damage his position in the Ministry, did it? And it wasn’t a joke when your Hit Wizards wanted to look into the disappearance of Hogwarts’ Muggle Studies professor but were shut down. People are dying because the Ministry is busy stripping down Deluminators and children’s books, rather than investigating the real problems and helping people. If you want to know why Voldemort’s back and how to stop him, start with your own office.”

Scrimgeour’s upper lip curled into a very thin snarl. “You go too far!” he shouted, and drew his wand. Harry stood too, and his chest met the end of Scrimgeour’s wand, where it singed a hole right into Mrs Weasley’s lovingly crafted Snitch.

“Oi!” Ron said, and he and Neville stood, fumbling for their wands, but Harry held his hands out.

“Don’t — do you want to give him an excuse to arrest us?”

Scrimgeour huffed something between a growl and a laugh. “Remembered you’re not at school, have you? Remembered that I am not Dumbledore who forgave your insolence and insubordination? You may wear that scar like a crown, Potter, but it is not up to a seventeen-year-old boy to tell me how to do my job! It’s time you learned some respect!”

“It’s time you earned it.” Harry had hardly finished his sentence when the door to the sitting room opened suddenly, and several people fought to get through the door, starting with Remus, wand drawn. Sirius, Lily, James, Tonks, Mr and Mrs Weasley, and Mr and Mrs Longbottom were all right behind him.

“We heard shouts,” Mrs Longbottom said, glancing between Neville and the Minister.

“Raised voices,” Mr Weasley echoed.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Remus asked, though his eyes were on Scrimgeour, not Harry.

“It — it was nothing,” Scrimgeour said, and stepped away from Harry. He looked at the hole he had made in Harry’s jumper and swallowed down his temper. With his anger gone, he simply looked weary, and Harry almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“You seem to think,” Scrimgeour said slowly, “that the Ministry does not desire what you — what Dumbledore — desired. We ought to be working together.”

“I think I’ve been pretty clear about what I desire and what the Ministry desires,” said Harry. His hand clutched the Snitch hard enough that it dug into his hand, and the scars on the back of his hand stretched.

Scrimgeour took a long, measured look at Harry, then surveyed the cluster of grown ups who crowded the doorway.

Finally, he said, “Nymphadora Tonks — er, Lupin, is it?”

“Just Tonks is fine,” she said, voice unusually faint.

“A word, before I go.”

It was not a request. Tonks bit down on her lip and jerked her head in agreement. As Scrimgeour pushed past the Longbottoms and the Weasleys, Remus moved to follow, but Tonks shook her head and went alone with Scrimgeour.

Suddenly, Harry was swarmed by his parents. Lily and James searched him for injuries; they asked what had happened and if he was hurt, talking over each other and all at once. Sirius was no better, examining the hole that had been burned into his jumper and asking questions without waiting for the answers.

Harry was just fine, though. Scrimgeour’s temper had not hurt him; it had only ruined a perfectly good jumper.

There was not much Harry and his friends could do to keep their gifts from Dumbledore a secret, so they each shared what they had been given. None of them, however, mentioned the sword.

Mrs Longbottom ran her finger along the edge of the phoenix feather, much like Neville had done when he had received it.

“It is beautiful,” Mr Longbottom murmured. “And a powerful magical conduit, if nothing else.”

Remus thumbed through Hermione’s book, but he kept looking up from the pages to the door Tonks had disappeared through. “It’s an unusual choice,” he finally said, and returned it to her. “I didn’t know Dumbledore had an interest in children’s stories.”

“It’s certainly a practical gift,” Mrs Weasley said of the Deluminator.

“He probably really wanted you to remember him,” Mr Weasley offered, “giving you such a unique and personal item.”

Ron did not look particularly thrilled about this, and eyed the feather Neville’s parents were still examining.

Lily turned the Snitch over in her hands, squinting to find some sort of catch or mechanism to open it. It fluttered in her hand, and stilled when Harry took it from her.

“You said it was from your first game?” Sirius asked.

Harry nodded. “That’s what Dumbledore said.”

James raised an eyebrow. “And? Did you try it?”

“Er —” Harry had not wanted to open the Snitch in front of Scrimgeour, certainly, and he was equally afraid to open it in front of his parents. But he supposed there was no way of hiding it. His father, of course, would remember exactly how Harry had caught his first Snitch.

“What do you mean?” Lily asked, glancing between James and Harry.

“My very first Quidditch match,” Harry said, “I didn’t catch the Snitch with my hands.”

Lily blinked. “You mean that this is the Snitch that you nearly swallowed?”

Everyone in the room paused their conversation and turned to watch. Harry hesitated, and finally decided that the Snitch was not going to suddenly reveal the Horcrux quest in one fell swoop — hopefully. He lifted the Snitch and pressed it to his lips.

But the Snitch did not open. Harry was both relieved and frustrated. What had Dumbledore wanted him to gain from this Snitch?

“Hold on — Harry,” Sirius gestured to the Snitch. “There’s writing on it.”

Harry squinted and turned the small object over in his hands. Sirius was right. There, engraved in the Snitch, in Dumbledore’s own handwriting, he read, “‘I open at the close.’”

“What does that mean?” Lily frowned.

Harry looked to Hermione for help, but she shrugged her shoulders.

Dumbledore had left each of them not with help or answers, but with a new puzzle, as if the quest they had been given was not enough. Harry resisted the urge to toss the Snitch out the window. He was so tired of more riddles and no answers. The Snitch would have served him better as a reminder of perseverance and whatever else Scrimgeour had said.

“I think they’re all quite special,” Mrs Weasley finally said. “It was kind of Dumbledore to leave each of you something.” She returned the Deluminator to Ron and took Harry’s singed jumper. She folded it up in her arms. “Harry, I can mend this for you after the wedding. Why don’t we head back into the garden for —”

She stopped as Tonks returned to the sitting room, and Harry was startled to see that her pink hair had returned to brown, like her mother’s. Her eyes had shifted to grey, too, instead of the hazel they had been when she arrived.

“What’s happened?” Remus asked.

Tonks smiled thinly. “I’ve been sacked. It’s fine — really, it’s about what I expected.”

“Hippogriff shit,” Sirius snarled. “They can’t —”

“They can,” Mrs Longbottom said quietly. “Though I wouldn’t expect Scrimgeour to do something like that. Some others in the office, perhaps, but not Scrimgeour.”

“He didn’t seem very happy to do it.” Tonks shrugged. “Though I guess that doesn’t make it better.”

“I’m sorry,” Lily apologised. “I shouldn’t have asked you and Remus to stay.”

“I’m sure it would have happened eventually. Or something would have happened.” Tonks fidgeted with the wand at her side. “Er — should we get back to the party?”

But no one seemed in the mood for much celebration. Dinner was quiet, and dessert a muted affair. The Longbottoms did not stay long, and the Delacours retired early.

Harry had hoped that he, Ron, Hermione, and Neville would all get a chance to discuss their gifts, but as the Longbottoms disappeared through the Weasley’s gate, and Mrs Weasley asked Ron to help her clean up, it seemed that the chance was less and less likely.

“Forgive us for not helping, Molly,” James said as he gathered up an armful of dishes, “but we would like to give Harry his gift before Remus and Tonks leave.”

“Oh, of course,” she said, and took the dishes from him.

Harry followed James and Lily upstairs to the room they were borrowing from Fred and George during their stay. It was still packed with a few boxes of unfinished Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Between that, the bed, and James and Lily’s trunks it was a tight squeeze for the three of them, plus Remus, Tonks, Sirius, and Picksie.

Once upon a time, Harry had wished that his family was as big as Ron’s, and had not cared for how empty his house had felt compared to the Burrow, bursting with life. Sirius and James so often described their family as “pack,” which was perhaps the only allusion to werewolves that did not make Remus tense. Their pack had grown a good deal these last few years, and even though they had lost Mellie, Harry was overwhelmed both by their support and the interrogation that he knew would follow.

On Harry’s eleventh birthday, his family had taken him into the sitting room and had told him the story of how Voldemort had tried to kill him when he was just a baby. Hagrid had been there, because it was Hagrid who had found Harry, James, and Lily in the wreckage of Voldemort’s attack. Tonight, it was pack only, and it was Harry’s turn to tell them that he had to kill Voldemort.

Sirius sat on the bed, legs folded up underneath him, and Harry took a tentative seat on one of the boxes. It did not explode underneath him, which was a good sign. Picksie sat beside him, and Tonks and Remus stayed standing by the door as James dug through his trunk.

“You have a wand, dear,” Lily reminded him as she took a seat on her trunk.

James grunted and dug his wand out of his robes. He Summoned a small black gift box, no bigger than his palm, from his trunk. He handed the box and his wand to Lily, and she very carefully wove a golden ribbon around the box.

“I know we normally do more than one gift,” Lily said, “but we had to pack light, so we grabbed the most important one.”

She handed the box to Harry as James sat down, and Remus handed him the slender box he had nearly given to Harry before dinner.

Harry started with the gift from his parents. He had been expecting a pocketwatch from his parents, and was prepared for something rather expensive, perhaps something gold plated like Ron’s, or something charmed to mimic the phases of the moon like his father’s.

Instead, the silver pocketwatch nestled in the tissue was scratched and dented. The front of the watch was intricately decorated in bay leaves and flowers inlaid in gold. He lifted it out of the box and turned it over. “Harry Potter” was engraved on the back above a relief of intertwined olive branches, though the “r” at the end of “Potter” was nearly worn away. When he opened it, he found a plain watch face inside. Roman numerals decorated the edges, and a smaller circle to mark the seconds was nestled at the bottom of the watch. The second hand did not tick at all, though Harry could hear the sound of the gears working inside the watch. The initials “H. H. P.” were engraved on the inside of the cover, which Harry thought odd. It was almost his initials, but not quite.

“Thank you,” he said, and hoped it sounded sincere. He was grateful, just not sure why it was so different from what he had expected.

“It was your great-grandfather’s,” Lily said. “We thought, well, what better pocketwatch than the one that belonged to your namesake.”

“More than that,” James added, “we named you after him for a reason — and not just because your grandfather’s name was Fleamont.”

Harry shuddered to think that he could have been “Fleamont James Potter” and decided he was much more grateful to have Henry Potter’s watch.

“Your great-grandfather,” James continued, “lived during a time not so different from ours, when Grindelwald rose to power. He had already lost standing in the Ministry, for trying to convince wizards to fight in the Great Muggle war that marked the first half of the century. And when war broke out in the 1930s, amongst both Muggles and wizards, he fought to protect those in danger.”

“We had a lot of plans for your seventeenth birthday,” Lily said, “and one of them was to give you the Invisibility Cloak.” She paused to glance sideways at James. “We were supposed to tell you how your great-grandfather used the Cloak to smuggle people out of Poland, people who were threatened by those in power — both the Muggle-born witches and wizards that Grindelwald hated, and the Jewish and Romani people who were threatened by the Muggle government. The Cloak became a powerful tool, used to help people who were in danger, to save lives. It isn’t just for getting into and out of trouble at school.”

“A wand can be used for both fun and duels,” Sirius said.

“Besides,” James said, “Harry’s been very responsible with the Cloak.”

“You didn’t have to pull him out of an Acromantula nest in the Forbidden Forest,” Lily snapped.

“Fair enough,” James agreed, but with a small smile, like he, too, had used the Cloak to find Acromantula in the Forbidden Forest, or perhaps something worse. “Anyway, Harry, to finish up the story, after almost ten years of smuggling people out of Poland, Grandpa Harry got the personal attention of Grindelwald. His friends forced him to hide away for a while and managed to get him into India with his wife’s family. But even then, he couldn’t stay out of the fight. Your great-grandparents continued working to provide relief during a famine as best as they could.”

“Didn’t he marry someone called Dolly?” Harry asked, trying to recall the family tree in the book his parents had given him for his birthday last year.

“Mistress Dolly is the English name she is using when she is in England with Mister Henry,” Picksie said, “but her given name is Mistress Dipali. She is a very kind woman, helping raise Picksie when she was born to Mama…”

“You can imagine why Great-Aunt Dorea was so fond of her and Henry,” Sirius said with a wry smile.

“It’s all in that book we gave you last year,” James said, “her story and Grandpa Harry’s, but we wanted to share his story with you on your birthday because it meant a lot to us when we learned you were coming along. Dumbledore didn’t tell us the prophecy until after Voldemort tried to kill you, but while we were in hiding, we talked a lot about my grandfather who had been hunted by Grindelwald, who had tried to help even at risk to his own life —”

“You talked a lot about him,” Lily interrupted, “and I did a lot of listening.”

James grimaced.

“But,” Lily added, “I was the one who suggested we name you after him.”

“Her exact words,” James said, “were ‘If we name our child Harry will you stop bringing him up every fifteen minutes.’ And I told her I might.”

“We had also planned,” Lily said, “to tell you the prophecy today. And we thought that your great-grandfather’s story would help put it into a bit of perspective. It’s not the prophecy that makes you destined to fight Voldemort, Harry. It’s the family you come from. It’s who you are, even beyond what your father and I — and Remus and Sirius — have taught you. We have never wanted you to feel like a weapon, like someone’s tool to be used against Voldemort. You’re our son, before anything else.”

“We never wanted —” James stopped, then started over. “We never thought that keeping the prophecy from you would turn against us the way it did. And we are sorry. When Voldemort came back, we should have told you what that meant, and why it worried us so much. And we did want to, but Dumbledore asked us to wait, and we trusted him.” He fiddled with the strap of his wristwatch. “I know Dumbledore’s done a lot for us — protected us, and protected Remus — but if we had taken a moment to trust our own judgement, to trust ourselves as your parents, then maybe we would have made the right choice.”

Harry looked down at the pocketwatch in his hand, unsure what to say. He knew what his parents were getting at, but really, the only thing he could think about was how differently this day might have gone if Voldemort had never returned in the first place. His family would have been at home. Maybe Dumbledore would have been there. Maybe James would have pretended to gift the Cloak to Harry and they would have laughed about it. Maybe the prophecy would not have felt like a curse.

It should never have been this somber event, in a small bedroom of the Burrow, with the crushing weight of a secret quest on his shoulders.

“Harry,” James said slowly, “we know that you don’t want our help, but —”

“Of course I want your help,” Harry said, and struggled to keep his voice from breaking. “I do, but I — I can’t tell you.”

Lily’s uninjured hand tightened around the hem of her skirt. “But you’ll tell Ron and Hermione? And Neville and Cedric?” He could hear how angry she was, though she tried so hard to restrain it.

Harry looked at each of them — his mother, his father, Sirius, Picksie, Remus and Tonks — and he knew that he could not give them what they wanted.

“I know you want to help,” Harry said, “but you can’t help me with this. I can’t —” He swallowed. “I have to face him. And if I let you help — if you come with me on this quest — you won’t let me fight.”

Lily opened her mouth to argue, but Harry kept talking.

“It’s not about being an adult, Mum, or you treating me like a child. It’s not. It’s that Dad lost his eye in the Department of Mysteries because he stopped to make sure I was alright. It’s that Dad nearly died on our trip to the Burrow because he came back to help me. It’s that Yaxley nearly killed you because of me, and that you dueled Voldemort in the graveyard, even when I was safely back at Hogwarts. It’s that Remus forgot to take his potion one night to try to protect me from Barty Crouch, Jr. It’s that Sirius nearly had his soul sucked out by dementors because he was trying to protect me from them. It’s that if it has to come down to me and Voldemort, I can’t have you there, too, because I know you’ll try to fight. And you can’t. You can’t help me with this.”

He knew it would not make them feel better, but he did not know what else to say. James leaned his elbows against his knees and ran both his hands through his hair. He looked so tired, more tired than Harry had ever seen him. Lily’s face and neck were blooming with red splotches, but she kept her lips pressed tightly together.

Sirius’ voice was dangerously close to a snarl as he said, “You’re not being fair, Harry. We’re your family, and family sticks together. I said prophecy be damned the other day and I meant it. No one gets to decide you have to face Voldemort alone, not even you.”

“I never said it was fair.” Harry looked down at the unopened box in his lap. Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and Regulus had all worked to get him something, even though Tonks was the only one of them with any income at all — and she had just lost that tonight because she had joined his family. Fair wasn’t a word they could afford to live by, not now.

“What can you tell us, Harry?” Tonks asked. “I’m a trained Auror and officially a free agent as of tonight. There has to be a way we can help, even if it isn’t dueling Voldemort in your place.”

Harry shook his head. “All I can say is that Dumbledore trusted me with a job. Regulus knows what it is. He’s the one who started this task, years ago, before you even went into hiding. It’s why he faked his death, to cover up his betrayal. He’s already helped me with part of it, and I helped him finish up something he started. Dumbledore didn’t leave me to do this fight alone. He knew I would need help, and he trusted Hermione, Ron, and Neville.”

“But not us,” Remus said, “and that terrifies us, Harry. You understand that, don’t you?”

Harry did understand. He had spent most of his fifteenth year worrying over the secret missions his parents went on. He knew exactly what he was asking of his family, and he knew it was impossible to make them agree. But he didn’t have to make them agree, he had to give them just enough peace of mind to let him go.

“I think,” Harry began slowly, “that Dumbledore has always tried to do what’s best for us. Even though I was upset about the prophecy, I understand why Dumbledore wanted it to stay a secret, and why you were so worried about it. I think the best thing to do right now is to trust Dumbledore.”

“I think you’re making a mistake,” Lily said.

James reached over and took her hand, slowly loosening her tight fist until their fingers were intertwined. “You’re seventeen now, Harry, so we won’t try to stop you. But we will do everything we can to stay by your side.”

It was the best Harry could hope for, the most he could ask of them.

“It’s a bit underwhelming now,” Remus said, “but you should open your other gift.”

Carefully, Harry pulled the lid off of the white box Remus had given to him. Inside was a slender velvet case, and when he opened it, he found an intricate watch chain. There were three chains, in fact, strung together and connected to a crest decorated with a lion. They were surprisingly heavy, and Harry guessed they were solid gold.

He looked up at Sirius, Remus, and Tonks, bewildered. “Are you… sure?”

“We knew what your parents were giving you,” Remus said, “and we thought we would give you something new to go with the old.”

“But… it’s…”

James cleared his throat and Harry belatedly remembered his manners.

“Thank you.” He very carefully attached the decorative chain to the pocket watch. “It’s perfect.”

“Happy birthday, Harry,” Tonks said. “I’m glad we were here to celebrate with you.”

She gave him another hug and kissed his cheek, and Harry could not find the words to thank her.

They said goodbye to Remus and Tonks. Tonks, though she had been downcast since her conversation with Scrimgeour, smiled and said she was happy to attend the wedding tomorrow now that she did not have to go into the office. Remus, however, did not smile, and Harry did not like the look in his eyes. It reminded him of the way Remus had looked in St Mungo’s last summer — cold, closed off, and ready to run.

After he and Sirius had seen Remus and Tonks out, Harry started upstairs to Ron’s room, but Sirius grabbed his arm.

“Harry,” he said, voice unusually sharp, “James may be willing to let you run off on some dangerous mission just because you’re an adult, but I’m not going to let you do this alone. I don’t care what they’ve decided. You’ll be hard-pressed to get rid of me.”

Harry had not considered that Sirius, with his unwavering loyalty and fear of repeating his mistakes from the first war, would be the hardest to convince to accept Dumbledore’s secret quest. He searched desperately for something to ease Sirius’ fear.

“What about with Umbridge? You were willing to let me make my own decision about that.”

Sirius’ frown turned into a vicious scowl. “That was different. We knew where you were — you could come home at any time. You had an out. If you go, Harry, there may not be a way to turn back.”

Harry thought of the Horcrux tucked under the pillow on the camp bed. He was already beyond the point of turning back. Maybe if he had refused to destroy the locket, had insisted Dumbledore or Regulus destroy it, maybe that had been his last chance to turn down this quest.

Or would it have been retrieving Slughorn’s memory? Or the moment he had decided to face Voldemort in the graveyard? Or the moment he had decided to get to the Philosopher’s Stone before Voldemort?

There had never been a turning back point. His path had always been headed this way, since his great-grandfather had decided to fight evil, since his parents had joined the Order, since a prophecy had been set — it was all far larger than Harry, and though he knew he had a choice, he didn’t really, not if he wanted to stay true to who he was.

Just as Sirius, too, did not have any choice.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, for there was nothing else to say.

He pulled away from Sirius and climbed the stairs to Ron’s bedroom. His feet were heavy as he did, and he thought that if he wasn’t careful his entire chest would pull him down to the ground as if he had been struck by a Solum jinx.

A strange sound from his parents’ room made him pause on the landing. His heart thumped loudly in his chest as he recognised the uncommon sound of his mother crying. She was always the one who was quick to anger, ready with a Blasting Curse, and Harry’s heart crawled up into his throat as he heard her unfiltered grief.

He could not hear what his father said, but he recognised the tone of comfort, the attempts to soothe her heartache.

“Oh — stop,” she snapped at him, and choked on a sob. “I can’t change Harry’s mind, I can’t bring Dumbledore back, I can’t repair my wand —”

“You aren’t helpless.” James’ voice was raised ever so slightly, only just audible over her sobs. “We will be there for Harry, as much as we can be, and you know this. We just have to trust that Dumbledore knew what he was doing.”

“He’s our son, James, we can’t —”

“We won’t.”

Harry hurried upstairs, stepping lightly to avoid the creaks. Unfortunately he did not know the steps at the Burrow as well as he knew the steps in Styncon Garden, and there were quite a few squeaks in his wake.

When he opened the door to Ron’s room and was surprised to find it empty. He frowned, wondering where Ron could have gotten to. Then he heard, “Finally — I was starting to think your parents had Apparated away with you.”

Harry turned toward the balcony to see Ginny leaning against its frame.

“Have you been waiting long?”

“Only since Ron and I finished the washing up.”

“Where is he?”

“He said he was going to check on the chickens. Kind of him, really.”

Though his chest still ached, he gave Ginny a weak smile and joined her on the balcony.

“Everything alright?” she asked.

Harry looked up at the clear sky and the constellations that decorated it. He thought of his failed Astronomy O.W.L. and the centaurs’ warnings about Mars. Seven years ago they had warned him that war was coming — no, warned wasn’t the right word. They’d simply observed it.

Harry did not want to be an observer, and he could not blame his parents for refusing to stand by, either.

“Should I tell my parents what I’m going to do?” he asked Ginny. It was not the answer to her question, but it was the closest he could get.

Ginny did not answer right away. She leaned against him, despite the warm night. Harry obligingly put his arm around her shoulder, but unlike during the early mornings they had spent together, Harry’s mind did not still. It continued to turn over everything his parents had said, the sad smile on Tonks’ face, the terror in Remus’ voice, and the fury in Sirius.

“Is Dumbledore the only reason you’re keeping it a secret?” she asked.

“No,” Harry said. “I know that they won’t let me face Voldemort — and I won’t watch them die trying to protect me from something I can’t avoid. I have to be the one to face him.”

“It sounds like you’ve made up your mind, then.”

Harry let out a slow breath but the pain in his chest did not relax.

“Hey,” she said, and elbowed him gently, “don’t you want to know what I got you for your birthday?”

He pulled his eyes from the stars and turned to look at her. “What? No — you didn’t have to get me anything, I —”

“Took me a while to come up with it. I thought I couldn’t get you anything big, since you’ll probably be traveling. I wanted it to be useful, but I figured Hermione had all that covered. Still, I thought I ought to get you something to remember me by.”

“Ginny, you don’t —”

She cut him off with a kiss.

They’d had quite a few kisses on the balcony this summer — perhaps more than Ron might like to know about — but none quite like this one. She tangled her hand in his hair and his hand slid to the small of her back, almost instinctively, pulling her closer. It was deeper, longer than their kisses from before…

Until there was a loud bang in Ron’s room.

Harry remembered Mrs Weasley’s bold entry the other day and practically leapt off of the balcony in an attempt to get away from Ginny. He knocked over Ginny’s broom, and his elbow collided with the bannister. A jolt of pain coursed through his arm to his fingertips. He winced and tried to rub the sensation away. It did not help.

“Thanks for the warning, Ron,” Ginny snapped.

Ron sank down on his bed and looked at the two of them, eyes full of something Harry couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t judgement, but it was definitely uncomfortable.

“I spent half an hour with the chickens! What more did you want from me?”

“The whole damn night,” Ginny muttered, but only for Harry’s ears, which burned suddenly.

“Er — Good night, Ginny,” Harry said, hating how formal his voice sounded all of a sudden.

She quirked an eyebrow, then kissed his cheek. “Night, Harry. Sweet dreams. And happy birthday.”

[teaplease1717]

I think Shouto is a hufflepuff(although i'm probably biased because i'm a hufflepuff LMAO).He's such a precious kind dork and judging by the fact that he and Izu became friends because Izu threw away the chance to win the sports festival to help him with his trauma,he values kindness.Him being hardworking goes without saying.And Momo is either a gryffindor with ravenclaw tendecies or a ravenclaw with gryffindor tendencies(hat stall definitely).Also one of my friend's from the Huwumi Haven server headcanons that Shouto's whole family are gryffindors except him and Endeavor is like

LMAO that cat.😂🤣

Lol. I actually had a really long conversation about BNHA and houses not too long ago with another friend. Haha. 😂 

Anyways, I always head canon that Shouto would be Slytherin or Gryffindor. Now, before I get into my reason, I want to define how I see the houses and stress that I don’t view any house as being better or worse than another. 

Gryffindor -  values daring, nerve, and chivalry. Members can have a tendency for pointless heroics. One thing I want to note is Gryffindors aren’t always kind. Remember James Potter (Harry’s dad) practically tortured Snape as teenagers. 

Ravenclaw -  values intelligence, knowledge, curiosity, creativity and wit. However, they are very competitive and some can be considered eccentric. 

Hufflepuff -  values hard work, patience, justice, and loyalty. They have a tendency to be social and are fairly inclusive of others. I don’t see them as being very competitive. They are more the happy, party house in my view. (full disclaimer I’m a Hufflepuff too 😊 Yay Hufflepuffs!)

Slytherin -  Slytherin values ambition, cunning, leadership, and resourcefulness, with a tendency to look after their own. Now, I know a lot of dark wizards have come out of Slytherin, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be brave and good people in there too. To be a Slytherin is to be complex, more so then in other houses imo. 

So now moving onto the sorting of BNHA. To me, Shouto is a complex character and not only because of his backstory. At his core he’s brave, smart, competitive and an introvert. He can be kind, but mostly that is to the people he likes. If the person isn’t part of his “circle” he doesn’t really put himself out there to help out. And if he doesn’t like someone he isn’t shy about letting them know to their face. To your point, he does have a strong ‘moral compass’ but I don’t feel it is necessarily in line with society’s moral compass. Shouto has decided in his own head what is right or wrong and if people don’t agree with him he tells them off.

With that said, based on my definition of the houses, I see him as a Slytherin with a slight tendency towards Gryffindor. Shouto doesn’t do pointless heroics, that’s Midoriya, Shouto just gets pulled into it sometimes because of him. Also, Shouto is competitive and ambitious, in his own way (he can’t strive to be a top hero without being ambitious). He’s also a silent leader, the definition of which is someone who commands their team through earned respect rather than force of character. Shouto will never be like Bakugo and Midoriya who are vocal and move people with their words. Shouto motivates people with his actions. 

All in all, Shouto has a lot of characteristics that could go in any house, but overall I feel he belongs to Slytherin.

As for Momo, I agree with you. I see her as probably Ravenclaw with Gryffindor tendencies because I see her as more strategical and not as openly daring. She rather follow the rules then break them.

Anyways, I could go on but I’ll stop there. Sorry for the long ramble, guess I had more to say then I thought I did. Haha

Thanks for the ask! 

[rhydianww]

Kicking and Screaming

“You don’t need the trouble, Rhydian. Just leave her alone.” This was the sage advice from the Slytherin’s just barely older sister. Owena sat next to her brother in the back seat of their mother’s car, a pile of snacks and a forgotten game of Uno laid between them. They were on their way to Kings Cross station, ready to start their fourth year of Hogwarts. 

But Rhydian was paying no head to his sister’s warning, he could hardly hear her over the music reverberating between his ear drumbs and the soft black cover over his headphones. His violet eyes were cast outward to the blurring scenery as the vehicle moved down the winding highway away from the northern welsh coast and the place they called home. Had his father been around, the family would have apparated somewhere with a floo that connected to King’s Cross, but Louis had been beckoned for work in the dead of night. His father had woken him up in to hug him goodbye and wish him well in school, and Rhydian had been too tired to be rude and deny his father the simple affection.

He felt bad for him, Rhydian, even if he’d never admit it to the older wizard’s face. But Louis hated his job and it was clear for anyone to see. He was always tired and grumpy when he came home from a mission, and he often didn’t speak to his family members until after Caerwyn would take her husbands hand and lead him to the bedroom, the door would lock behind them and they’d be gone to the world for a few hours. Rhydian knew some of what his father experienced must be horrific. Louis never spoke about work but Uncle Cleary, Louis’ partner and Rhydian’s Godfather, was much more forthcoming with information now that Rhydian was older. Knowing the bits and peices of what his father had done at work, and what had been done to him made  Rhydian just as sympathetic to his father as it did angry.

On one hand Rhydian understood his father put his life on the line and was witness to many dark and terrifying things for the sake of his family. Caerwyn and Louis had ended up pregnant and unwed at nineteen freshly graduated. His father had done what he needed to and found a job with security. On the other hand Rhydian felt that Louis’ experiences should have made him more sympathetic to his son’s illness. Louis never slept well and could be found nearly at all hours with a cup of black hot coffee in his hand. Rhydian knew it was because of work just like Rhydian had trouble sleeping because spirits. Shouldn’t that mean Louis could understand why Rhydian didn’t going new places? Why he needed his music? Why he couldn’t pay attention all the time? These were all coping skills Rhydian had unconsciously picked up from his parents after all.

But Louis didn’t seem to understand his son, and Rhydian felt he never would.

As if sensing the way her son’s thoughts were heading, Caerwyn spoke up. Owena nudged her brother, and two matching sets of violet eyes met in the rear view mirror.

“It’s Poppy’s first fucking year, you’ll keep an eye on her, won’t you?” Caerwyn asked. She was always interrupting Rhydian and Louis when they started to go at each other, always trying the ease the waves between them. Could she feel the impatience Rhydian had begun to stew in the fleeting thought about his father’s absence?

“She’s going to look simply adorable in her robes, oh I can’t wait to see her, I bet she’s going to be in Hufflepuff, just like Aunty Lils.” Owena cheered, always bright and cheerful. She was like the sun, Owena, and just like the gaseous celestial body, the world seemed to revolve around her. Everyone liked Owena, everyone wanted to be her mate. Rhydian was envious of such magnetism but also thankful. He had gone his whole life being left alone he shouldn’t think he’d take to being popular all that well now.

“Mmm.” Was Rhydian’s gruff response, his eyes falling away from his mother’s and back to the landscape. Poppy was one of Rhydian’s dozens upon dozens of cousins, a daughter of his father’s cousin Lily and her husband Lorcan. The Potter/Weasley family was large, too large for Rhydian to feel all that comfortable around every one of his cousins the way his father was, but he got on well enough with Aunty Lils’ girls. Briar and Thistle, the eldest of his aunt’s surmounting hoard, were close enough in age to Rhydian that they had been able to play as children. There were also no spirits in the valley Aunty Lils and Uncle Lori had made their home which meant Rhydian was willing to spend time there on occasion.

But home was one thing, school was another. As sort of a social pariah, Rhydian was generally avoided at school, even by his cousins. Rhydian didn’t care, he wasn’t particularly close to any of the one’s in his year anyway. Owena was really the only one he hung around with regularly at school, usually tagging along to whatever she was doing with her mates at her insistence. Most of the cousins he saw consistently were older anyway, after Addie had been born it was like a baby bomb had gone off. Sophia, Tante Vic’s daughter had been born, then James’ oldest, Junior, and then a whole ton more. If he had to pick favorites Rhydian would have to say it was Viktor, Tante Doma’s son, but he lived in Eastern europe with the Dragons so it was rarely Rhydian got to see him, they certainly didn’t go to school together.

Poppy was alright, but young and a girl. Shy but sweet. She’d make friends fast enough. Rhydian agreed with Owena’s assessment, Hufflepuff was likely.

“And leave fucking Maggie alone.” Owena quipped. Rhydian rolled his eyes as he replaced his headphones, not looking up to meet the violet eyes staring at him once more in the mirror. It was no secret what had happened over the summer at Addie’s going away party. Louis had blamed Rhydian but he hadn’t cared. There had been no use in arguing. But just because he had accepted his father’s lame punishment of having to sit at a table with him -probably what he would have been stuck doing anyway- that didn’t mean the Slytherin didn’t blame Maggie Stonefyre for him getting in trouble to begin with.

Rhydian wasn’t the forgiving type, and Owena was probably sensing her brother was scheming, but  Merlin did she have no idea what was in store for the weirdo snake bitch was in for. Maggie was a nice girl, according to Owena, ‘a Hufflepuff’ Owena had stated, dragging the house name out, her eyes reflecting exasperation. She believed no Hufflepuff was rotten to their core. And Rhydian supposed Maggie wasn’t rotten to her core, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t deserving of justice.

He started picking on Maggie the first day of classes. He found them sharing a bench in Potions oddly enough, other students were weary of the snake that curled itself around her body. Rhydian had learned the snake was passive enough though and so he took the opportunity and grabbed the seat next to her. They hadn’t spoken, but she had gone to the loo which allowed Rhydian ample time to poor a sickly smelling sap into her book bag. He had been carrying it around of hopes  of seeing her.

He expected to give her a hard time for a week or so, then move on. Just enough to upset the girl. Rhydian however did not expect retaliation. Perhaps he should have, looking back on the event over the summer, but he had assumed the gun had been Hads’ idea, she could be a wicked little thing Rhydian had observed. But you know what they say about hindsight; it’s always twenty-twenty. Maggie came back at Rhydian was a vengeance, pouring the same sap in his trunk and on his bed, he had no idea how she got in his dorm. From their things escalated to name calling, to school work sabotaging, and it was now to the point they were hexing each other in the corridors much the frustration of their Professors. They could hardly stand each other, Maggie and Rhydian to the point their anger was on sight. Peers knew to stay out of their way if they noticed the pair glaring at each other and drawing their wands. 

It landed them in detention more than once, but the Professors were loosing their patience. It wasn’t very fair either that they favored Maggie over Rhydian, especially the Arithmancy Professor who was particularly defensive of the annoying witch. But Rhydian couldn’t let it go even though he had received angry letters and phone calls from his parents by now about how often he was getting in trouble. Even Addie had written inquiring what it was that was upsetting her brother so much. He didn’t write back. Rhydian had always been a difficult and was in and out of trouble most of his school career but no one thought this fixation he had on ruining Maggie Stonefyre’s day was healthy. 

Eventually the Professors decided if the two couldn’t resolve their differences on their own, they would force them to do so. And so as a pair, the two were sent into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid to tend to the Unicorns. Rhydian doubted it would go well, the whole thing was ludicrous. How was he, a boy, supposed to even see the unicorns?! How had Hagrid been feeding them to begin with?! It didn’t make any sense. 

“Yer Grandfather Ron-”

“Bill. My grandfather is Bill. Ron’s my great uncle.” Rhydian had reminded the half giant gently. He was getting very old, Hagrid, forgetful. He had enough wit however to recognize a Weasley when he saw one. His father having been close with Harry and Ron’s respective children, Auntie Rose and Uncle Shithead, had known the half giant well in their time at Hogwarts. And he was kind, Rhydian noted, in a way that was quite rare.

The two spoke about family and Great Uncle Harry’s heroism until they were joined under the stars at the edge on the Forrest by Maggie. Hagrid gave a small lantern to each of them a bid them to follow after him into the woods. 

[quidfree]

hi! hope you're well and that you're having a good day:) I absolutely adore LMV - I genuinely think it's the best fic I've ever read. anyway, the point of this ask was that I was wondering whether you had any thoughts about sirius as a godfather? like, was he suited for the job, did he actually do a good job... idk, maybe you've answered that question before, in that case, sorry! and ofc don't stress abt answering:))

this is so nice of you ty!!!

ive never talked about dogfather sirius, actually!! what an interesting pair of questions.... i would have to say a qualified yes to both?

was sirius suited for the job: personality-wise, maybe not entirely (raising a child alone in the event of jily deaths would have been Rough, and he’s not exactly a stable parental unit, not to mention he would have spoiled harry rotten), BUT he has the most important prerequisite, which is undying love and loyalty for the potters and for harry, and that means he would have done everything in his power to be a good parent figure to him, which is what really matters, so. not to mention that jily realistically weren’t contemplating he would have to be godfather alone for the majority of harry’s life- with jily around he could have been just The Coolest Godfather Ever instead of harry’s first living parental figure who didn’t treat him like shit.

did he actually do a good job? i would say a resounding yes. bearing in mind he was stuck in azkaban for twelve years (let’s not get into that), we only actively see him godparent harry for three years (plus when he was a baby). obviously baby harry was spoilt v much by his dogfather; what we see of sirius + teen harry also speaks favourably of him, i think. ok, little bit of a rough start what with the unhinged prisoner vibe, but the FIRST thing sirius does when free is go check up on harry- and he keeps tabs via crookshanks etc once at school, knows his interests well enough to send him the firebolt, and he values harry’s opinions enough to not murder peter on the spot despite his thirteen year revenge vendetta. obviously, the fact harry is the spitting image of someone sirius hasnt seen except for in his nightmares for over a decade doesn’t hurt, but he’s just so awkwardly sweet to harry afterwards- when he offers harry to come live with him, expecting him to refuse and completely understanding of it, it’s so endearing (and it always broke my heart how excited they both were about it- i bet sirius was thinking about another time a potter asked to live together). and from the start sirius ALWAYS speaks to harry like a whole person, not a child to be kept in the dark (which, if everyone else had done, looking at you dumbledore...)- the speech he gives him before he escapes is so important for harry to hear, especially from someone who knew his parents. sirius is always so careful to tell harry things about james and lily. now, it’s not that sirius treating harry like an adult would be ideal on its own, and i do think in part the issue is that he skipped his entire childhood and harry looks so much like james, but i also don’t think sirius actually treats harry too much like a grown man, apart from slipups- just like a grown teen. he advises him against threats, tells him the edgy backstories harry SHOULD know (and no other adult ever wants to tell him), looks after him as best he can (HE LIVES IN A CAVE EATING BONES TO LOOK OUT FOR HIM), listens to his teen melodrama. even when he’s fucking up by encouraging harry’s risk-taking i don’t think he’s treating him like an adult- he’s treating him like a *marauder*, because at that age, that’s what he or james would have done; being able to make informed choices is what sirius would have wanted at his age. i don’t think molly or sirius necessarily have the better argument- both make good points; sirius gets what harry wants and molly gets what harry might need even if he doesn’t want it, but that makes perfect sense- molly is an older woman who’s raised seven children, and sirius is in his early thirties and lived with kids for (1) year. james and sirius were order members by age /eighteen/ and sirius was in azkaban at /twenty-one/- he was basically a kid HIMSELF before he got put in the torture prison. i always found it so unfair that literally none of the other adults ever mention the debilitating mental issues he must be suffering from- remember the lifelong PTSD hagrid got from a MONTH there???- and that’s without even mentioning dumbledore’s purposeful exacerbating of them. not to say that mental health excuses poor parenting, but sirius both /isn’t a parent/ and really does very well at filling that role anyways, on the whole, so i think he can be cut some slack for once in his life. harry loves sirius SO MUCH and sirius loves him right back- and sirius teaches him some of the most important lessons in the whole series, even if he himself never managed to learn them- lessons that i really think shape the adult harry becomes, and the kind of lessons his parents might have taught him. so overall i’d give him kudos- and considering the absolute bullshit he’s living through, with james and lily dead, azkaban sucking the light out of him for over a decade, peter running free, and dumbledore QUARANTINING HIM IN THE HOUSE WHERE HIS ABUSIVE DEAD MOTHER IS (?!?!), i would say he does a stellar fucking job.

anyways harry & sirius’ relationship is so important to the series- even the GP was upset when sirius dies in OOTP, largely because everyone could see how bad it hit harry. that scene in dumbledore’s office? oof. they just care about each other so v much and we were robbed of a lifetime of sirius as harry’s absolute fav adult. if sirius had held onto harry that day- if dumbledore hadn’t decided to place him with abusive bigots for a plan which would only pay off by OOTP- i honestly think sirius would have outlived the series. because with harry he’d have been less unhinged by grief, able to testify properly, gotten support from other order members, not gone to azkaban- and with harry he would have had a reason to live. thirteen years of raising harry would have made harry the snarky little fucker he is at his core by age eleven, confident and happy and very good at quidditch indeed; thirteen years would have made sirius as whole as he can get. they would have patched things up with remus. there’d be no OOTP tragedy of errors. sirius would have punched dumbledore at some point. harry would have sent a pic of him and his new friends over week 1 of hogwarts and sirius would have punched through a wall and then calmly strolled over to hogwarts and taken ron’s pet rat over to minerva mcgonnagal, where unspeakable things happened to it. he would have gently butted heads with hermione (but won her over via crookshanks if nothing else) and gotten on very well with ron; snape would barely have been able to be such a dick to him because sirius would have gleefully sent him howlers for every minute of his day until he cracked. lucius on the school board terrorizing the other parents? not on sirius “billionaire heir to the toujours pur line” black’s watch- he’d happily invest even more obnoxious wealth into the school fund to get first call, not to mention lucius’ imperius excuse would not get very far with sirius around. “who’s nicholas flamel? we can’t ask adults- we’d get in trouble with the teachers and our parents are either muggles or wouldn’t know- oh wait nevermind, sirius, who’s nicholas flamel?” no more expelliarmus-ing for four years; harry Trained Duellist By Age 11 more like. dobby the house-elf? oi dobby sirius is family too- now spit it all out, won’t you? chamber of secrets? yeah, sirius knows what that is. parseltongue? yeah, sirius is familiar, and fuck those other kids for being weird to harry about it, does he want to come home for the holidays? weird creepy diary? oh, sirius’ family will have Magicke Moste Evile around somewhere. book 3 is just Harry’s Holiday: The Book because there’s no sirius subplot. you think snape would have dared treat remus the way he does with sirius hovering around paying half his checks? i think the fuck not. you bet your ass they had box seats for the whole of gryffindor house at the Quidditch World Cup. barty crouch? yeah, sirius knows THAT asshole- and remembers his son. catch harry whizzing through all the challenges minus the nerves ahead of time while sirius and remus do half the investigating for him. yule ball? no sweat, just go with ron; that’s what james and sirius would have done. if the maze went the way it goes in the books, “moody” wouldn’t even have been able to drag harry off without sirius intervening. and sirius “ptsd” black would have been The One Person who Got harry’s feelings in OOTP- not to mention sirius Skilled Legilimens black could have coopted that shit from snape and gotten harry up to scratch. sirius-raised-harry would have given umbridge twice as much shit. no kreacher lying here- and harry has sirius’ mirror anyways. so no massive drama in the ministry, and no suicidal recklessness / desperate first taste of freedom on sirius’ part means no veil incident even if they got there. hence book six through seven going Quite Differently. sirius shows up book six to be DADA teacher, why not. him and remus think it’d be funny, and besides he’s petty enough to steal the job from snape. move over firenze, new hot teacher in town. half the books are avoidable.

[the-potter-analyst]

Sorcerer’s Stone Summary

How’s it going lads, hope everyone’s doing well with the crazy pandemic happening. And guess who has time to get back to reading Harry Potter now that everything’s basically on lockdown owo

This book summary is way over due but better late then never lol

Harry: I will never stop thinking about how even though Harry grew up in an abusive environment, he still has so much innocence, hope, and humor in him. He lived such a lonely life, but instead of becoming bitter and lashing out on others he just,,, tried to keep to himself. And honed his sarcastic abilities as defense lol. Harry also has so much curiosity in that tiny body of his, which is interesting considering all that the Dursleys ever tried to teach him is to not ask questions. As soon as he meets someone who’s willing to give him answers, he can’t stop asking questions. He also formed a really strong sense of ethics. Like he gets angry at the Dursleys for being dishonest with him (and not hiding info from him interestingly) and he immediately knows that Draco isn’t someone to keep in his close circle from the way Draco treats others.

An important development in Harry’s character this book has been him finding a place to call home and dealing with high expectations others have of him. His greatest wish is to belong somewhere. Throughout his first year, Harry is worried about meeting everyone’s expectations of him so much that he gets anxiety over things from Quidditch to being able to stay at Hogwarts. He’s constantly worried about failing and losing his feeling of belonging.

On the moon representing Harry in astrology (on the night they went into the Forbidden Forest, both the moon and Mars were bright. Voldemort is Mars and Harry is the moon): The moon is about safety and security and is  associated with the mother (Harry has his mother’s protection charm). When we are “acting out” our Moon, we are imaginative, creative, intuitive, sentimental, adaptable, introspective, and protective. On the negative side, we can be moody, restless, and irrational.

I’ll end this Harry section with the core qualities I identified in chp3: he’s caring, curious, sassy, very quick on his feet, has a strong sense of justice and ethics, and is one to take initiative (especially when his curiosity is piqued). And one more I didn’t note then: obsessive. I lied there’s another: distrustful of adults. WAIT ANOTHER: incredible inner strength.

Ron: Everything about Ron’s ambitions are the opposite of Harry lol. Harry has fame but wants to feel like he belongs whereas Ron has a home and loving family but wants to stand out. Classic grass is greener scenario. While Harry has everything Ron wants, Ron never puts it against Harry or gets jealous bc he knows that a) Harry never wanted it and hates the attention, and b) Harry doesn’t have everything. Like fame and money is cool in all, but Harry also doesn’t have loved ones and he’s lived a lonely and abusive life. Ron is also so excited to teach Harry about the wizarding world! He like takes him under his wing lol. Other qualities Ron has include being quick witted which can range from acting impulsively to being able to act under stress. So often times he won’t think before he acts, but it also allows him to be amazing at wizard’s chess. Ron’s also super loyal, he protects his friends and prioritizes their safety.

Hermione: There’s a lot of character growth for Hermione in this book! She’s one who has high expectations for herself and others, loves learning for for the sake of learning, and also love excelling. All of this can come across as being stuck up, a know-it-all, a teacher’s pet, etc, and this is why she clashes with Harry and Ron at the beginning. They’re both pretty lax and see the rules as bendable whereas Hermione is strict, meticulous, and sees the rules as absolute. But she’s more than that, because above all she prioritizes people, friendships, and a person’s well-being. Which is why Hermione lies to McGonagall about the troll. She’s letting Ron and Harry know that she isn’t actually all about the rules and looking perfect.

I think I wrongly attributed Hermione to be the glue in the trio. I’ve read a post saying that it’s Ron, but I want to hold off on that analysis for now.

Neville: There was also a lot of small moments of growth for Neville. He’s introduced as the kid who lost his toad, someone who’s forgetful, easily loses things, low self esteem, and struggles with magic. He believes he can’t live up to be a Gryffindor because of these faults, yet the Sorting Hat puts him there anyway. Reading the sorting ceremony as aspirational, while Neville may not think he has the potential reflect the best of Gryffindor’s qualities, deep down he really wants that. But he needed the reassurance from others to start seeing that. It goes to show how important it is to surround yourself in a positive environment, with people who uplift you. And all that accumulated to Neville being able to not only stand up to his bullies, but also to his friends.

The Sacred Texts podcast really made me think about how Neville is this metaphor of what could’ve been. But it’s more than just the possibility of him being the Boy Who Lived. The trio had an option to take Neville with them down the trap door, but they decide not to. And then their first trial was something Neville excels at: Herbology. It’ll be interesting to see if this comes up in future books.

Dumbledore: I started out these analyses with asking, when is Dumbledore’s commitment to trusting others a fault? That’s way too big of a question to answer now, but it made me think about the line between trusting that ppl will act a certain way and plain manipulating them based on their personalities. And I can’t figure out at the moment where Dumbledore lies. Because it’s one thing to like, trust that someone like Petunia would raise Harry but it’s another to give Harry the invisibility cloak so that he could run into the Mirror of Erised knowing he’d wonder around at night.

Hagrid: Hagrid has a lot of faults, but he’s such a loving and nurturing person! He’s really an important figure in Harry’s life. He encourages Harry to ask questions! Which is so important to teach a child. And when Harry is constantly surrounded by people who hide information from him, Hagrid is always one to be honest with him. Hagrid also provides a lot of emotional support for Harry. I just love their relationship. I’ve said that before and I will keep saying that.

Things to keep in mind while I continue reading:

“Seven years there and he won’t know himself”

The magical world is naturally accepting to everyone, it’s only the people who make it exclusive

Parvati is best girl, I need more of her

“Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid” -> best description of Harry James Potter

B2 Summary

[nextgensquad]

Which kids from the next gen don't get along that well (if there are any)?

Thank you so much for this question, anon! Sorry it took us so long to answer. This got a little bit long since four of us had answers, so we’re putting it under a cut to save everybody’s dashboards. This was really fun to think about, so thank you! 

Ellie:

I tend to write my kids as being a fairly disparate bunch these days, so while a few pockets here and there do count each other as actual friends (Dominique and Molly, for example) most of them have the majority of their friends outside the family. Not to say they dislike each other, they just aren’t especially close. That being said, there are a couple who just don’t get along at all:

Lily and Victoire tend to butt heads a lot. Lily thinks Victoire is patronising and judgey, and Victoire thinks Lily is attention-seeking and fake.

Rose and Lily also do not get on so well. Lily thinks Rose is weird and finds her quietness creepy. Rose thinks Lily is deliberately flakey and also attention-seeking and it pisses her off too.

None of them really have a clue what’s up with Hugo, and he tends to avoid them all when he can.

Albus hates Fred because he thinks Fred is preachy, a suck-up and boring. Fred loves Albus all the same.

Becca:

I always have trouble answering these questions because I have more than one version of my next gen, and the one that I’ve written most isn’t necessarily the most interesting on paper (I love them very much all the same, but I invented them a long time ago). However, they’re a lot more fleshed out than the other version, so I’m going to answer for them.

In my primary universe, the Weasley-Potter clan is a close-knit family, who nevertheless bicker and argue constantly. They grew up in each other’s pockets so they know each other extremely well, especially the ones close in age, which is sometimes an advantage and sometimes distinctly not.

James and Rose argue all the time, to the point that the rest of the family get sick of it. In some ways they’re too similar; in others, very different. They’re both much too competitive, like to be in charge, and enjoy scoring points off other people, and they know exactly how to wind each other up. 

In fact James is probably the one who argues most with other people in his family, mostly because he’s just kind of a dick. 

Molly and Lucy don’t get on too well a lot of the time, not because they don’t love each other (they do) but because they each find the other very frustrating. Molly can’t understand Lucy’s weird obsessions and enthusiasms, and Lucy just wishes Molly would get passionate about something for once. 

Are we including the non-Weasley next gen here? Because if so, James and Scorpius have a deep-seated dislike of each other. Nobody can quite understand where it comes from or how it started (beyond the obvious family divide, and the fact that, again, James is kind of a dick), but it seems to have been an instant, automatic and mutual thing. It lasts the whole way through their school years, and although it improves a bit later,  they’re never going to like each other. 

Pearl:

I love this question, thank you so much, anon! I do tend to have most of my kids getting along decently because that’s one value I think all of the Weasleys would have imprinted on their kids no matter what, but of course, there’s no fun without drama.

After Teddy and Victoire break up, there’s a bit of a divide between who will speak to Teddy and who won’t. Dominique and Louis take their sister’s side and Louis never liked Teddy that much anyway. James and Lily lean towards Teddy’s side and Al is kinda caught in the middle entirely.

James and Fred and Louis were close when they were kids and shoved together because of being the same age but they drifted apart once they were sorted into different Houses and Fred and James in particular have never been able to recover their friendship–Fred thinks James is feckless and destructive to those around him and James thinks Fred is overly-sensitive and nerdy.

The Potter kids love each other a lot but James and Lily have never fully accepted Scorpius as Al’s best friend and likely won’t for a long while because they think he’s bad for Al.

Al and Rose’s relationship gets damaged around their early teens due entirely to both of them having feelings for Scorpius and not confiding in each other and they both think the other is a coward for the way they handle things.

Hugo and Lily never really get along; Lily thinks he’s a stuck-up dick and Hugo thinks she’s an annoying attention-seeker. Dominique tries to help but never succeeds.

Jane:

Oh, this is fun! As the others tease me for, I have about four established verses and then a handful of dynamics which exist for one-offs and oneshots, but I’ve decided to go with my third universe because it’s the one I was using to do the nextgenmeme with. It’s not the most interesting for this question, unfortunately (e-2 has a lot more in-fighting and inter-family feuds, and e-4 has more creative conflicts because of all the spies, crime, lies and running away to live in a forest), but it’s the one with the dynamics I’ve explored the most.

There’s a big blow-up between all the school aged lot (James, Molly, Al, Rose, Scor, Lucy, Roxanne, Lorcan, Lysander, Lily, Hugo + their own overly opinionated friends) when Al’s in Sixth Year and James is in Seventh. The Weasleys themselves are actually pretty well-behaved—a lot of the conflict comes from the opinions of their friends who get involved—but Al catches feelings for James’ girlfriend/Rose’s best friend, and it’s a fiasco. Albus has no intention of doing anything about it (his best friend is Team Homewreck, though, despite being in love with Albus himself, because he thinks Albus deserves what makes him happy—Lucy almost breaks his nose when he expresses this opinion, because she is firmly Anti Homewreck), but James ends up breaking up with his girlfriend because he doesn’t want to hurt his brother (and Albus never had any intention of telling him, because he didn’t want to hurt his brother), and the Hogwarts lot all have their opinions on what the right course of action was.

Rose and Albus never stopped being friends, but they had their own distinct friend groups, and the incident sort of brought them back closer together than ever, although there was some initial sharpness on Rose’s part towards both Potter boys because her best friend ended up getting her heart broken from the whole mess. Lucy, on the other hand, thought they were all being absolute dicks about the issue and basically argued with literally every cousin who’d had any part to play, either as a main player or just adding opinions which contributed to the mess, until they apologised to said ex-girlfriend.

Hugo and Lucy are both extremely opinionated and fight all the time. Lucy’s always stuck to her guns about doing the right thing, even to the point of going up against her entire family, whereas Hugo’s Slytherin to his core and whilst he inherited his mother’s values, he also inherited her ruthlessness and is very much an ‘ends justify the means’ type. They love each other, but family dinners tend to feature equal parts them arguing and Lucy mocking his monogrammed cufflinks being pretentious, which all only get worse as they get older and he decides to run for Minister with the aid of Alexandria Greengrass’ campaign team. It’ll get better around about when they’re in their mid-to-late twenties, but there’s a lot of arguing to sit through.

James and Lucy used to argue in Hogwarts, but that was pretty minor stuff. Mostly James knows Lucy has excellent reflexes and thinks she’d be an astounding Quidditch player, and she always point-blank refused to have anything to do with the sport. Gryffindor common room saw a lot of him cajoling her.

Hugo and Roxanne don’t understand each other at all, which leads to some tense moments at times (like when Roxanne wants to be a muggle mechanic and he just can’t fathom why), but generally they just take half an hour and calm down again.

Louis and Scorpius fall out for a bit in their twenties, but generally get along pretty well. Hugo and Lorcan don’t get on at all, though. Hugo, Lucy, Lysander and Albus are probably the more difficult personalities of my lot, although Rose has her moments when she gets irritated.

[tadasgay]

the shitty summer camp au you didn’t ask for but definitely deserve

@jilychallenge | vs @diggorye 😘😘😘

prompt: “i got lost on this campground at night and i am so sorry i thought this was my tent and now i’m waking up next to you and um hi this is just a little awkward” camping AU

(originally this was a lot longer but it had to be cut because i couldn’t find it in me to be happy with where it was going. this au rly warrants a 40k word fic written by someone who is not me)

___

The only bad part about summer camp, Lily thinks, is that when your sister decides to call you at one in the morning to ask if you’ve taken her hair straightener with you (to camp) and if you could please stop stealing her stuff (which you haven’t), is that you have to walk around in the dark for ten minutes before you can get even a hint of reception (if you’re lucky). And then, of course, you have to listen to your sister accuse you of taking stuff you don’t even want nor need for another twenty minutes, in the dark, alone, in the middle of nowhere, where anyone could creep up on you, and then the last thing you’ll ever hear as some weirdo without a life artfully murders you is your sister whisper-shouting about how you really need to stop taking her stuff without asking.

Something should be done about this, really.

“Come on, Tuney.” She sighs, one thumb between her brows as if that can single-handedly hold the oncoming wrinkles back. The light outside the tutors’ cabins suddenly seem very far away. “My phone’s about to die. Could we please do this when I’m not standing in a bush?”

She hears Petunia suck air in deeply on the other end through her teeth. “Lily, you’re not seven anymore. You can’t just skirt responsibility every time you get caught doing something wrong.”

“I know that. Which is why if I had stolen your hair straightener, I would have told you already.”

“You’re completely ignoring my point–”

Brightly, Lily goes “okay, bye!” and punctuates it by ending the call.

Let Petunia be mad. It’s much better than Petunia fuming over Lily in a coffin six feet under because she accidentally tripped over a root in the middle of the night and died. They probably wouldn’t find her body for at least six more hours. Rigor mortis would have done all sorts of funky things to her body by then. Think of the children, she telepathically tells Petunia, across all those kilometres, it’s enough to traumatise anyone for life.

There’s enough light from the moon to get her back to the tents. She remembers to dodge the beginnings of a shallow creek just outside the spindly trees she’d been hiding in; to walk around the prickle patch separating Mary’s and Regulus Black’s tents. The grass sighs as a gentle wind passes over it, and she is a shadowy girl, filling the night.

She unzips the opening to her tent as quietly as she can and shimmies over to her designated corner. Her clumsy hand bumps into someone sleeping on top of her sleeping bag in the darkness; she might need to have another word to Dorcas about keeping to her own side in the morning.

She lays down, banishes all thoughts of Petunia and missing hair straighteners, and dreams.

___

She wakes some time before sunrise, or some time quickly after she’d fallen asleep; she’s not too sure. There’s something unusually heavy on her torso, and when she sleepily pushes it off her, she realises that something is not quite right.

James Potter stares at her from her side. There’s enough light from the distant moonlight to see that he’s somewhere between confused and horrified, snatching his arm back like he’s been burned.

“What are you doing here?” She whispers loudly.

“I could ask the same of you.” James retorts.

“I–” Lily starts, looks around the tent, and realises with sudden clarity that she doesn’t need to have a word with Dorcas in the morning. For starters, Dorcas isn’t here. Secondly, there is no way Dorcas got replaced by the sleeping forms of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin Doctor Who style. “I am totally in the wrong tent.”

“How’d you get in here?” Laughter lurks between the letters.

“Through the zipper.”

“Why are you here?” He corrects.

“It’s not like it was intentional.” She whispers hotly. The worst thing she could do right now is wake up the others and be subject to even more humiliation. It’s one thing for James to relay the series of events to his friends, quite another for them to experience it with him.

A quick note about James Potter: calling him a walking headache would be too much of a compliment. He’s committed a long list of atrocities, including kicking a ball at Dorcas on the first day during the welcome party and not apologising; very loudly calling Evan Rosier a ‘gossipy creep’, which is true, but she still wouldn’t have said it to his face in front of everyone; and being very annoyingly attractive from every possible angle.

Their two brief and infrequent interactions had been enough for Lily to understand that he was pretty, and funny, but foolheartedly arrogant, and kind of a total prat. Like, what kind of person won’t stop touching their hair? Or thinks it’s funny to try cover their own friend in craft glue? Don’t they know that trying to get that stuff off is akin to human torture?

She is getting used to living with the unfolding mystery of herself, and being into James Potter is just something she’s going to have to accept.

Once she lives this down.

“Hey, you don’t have to leave.” He goes when she starts to roll herself off the mattress. “McGonagall made Peter clean the kayaks for sneaking into Bertha Jorkins’s tent the other night.”

She makes a face, not that he can see it. “Well, that’s what he gets for trying it on with Bertha and then telling everyone about it.This is entirely a mistake.”

“You wanna explain to her how you got in here in the – what? Middle of the night? What were you doing out there, anyway?”

“If you must know,” her voice is clipped, even in a whisper, “I had an urgent family phone call.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“That’s not important!”

“What is important, though,” he sounds far too earnest, “is that McGonagall will at the very least take your phone off you if you get caught gallivanting between tents in the dark, even if you’re her favourite. So you don’t need to feel bad about staying here. Unless you’re super uncomfortable with it.” He adds quickly, because apparently he’s not as prattish to his core as he’s made himself out to be. “I’ll stay to my own side and everything.”

She ignores the tell-tale beat of her wanting heart. Why does he have to be considerate? Doesn’t he know what he’s doing to her poor, delicate heartstrings? “I don’t think you’re trying to do anything untoward with me. But I can’t ask you to stay on your own side of your bed.”

“Good thing you’re not asking. I’m offering.”

This moment, at age seventeen, with a cute boy in the dark, should be a moment magical enough to fall in love. It isn’t. But it should be.

Really, it’s just extremely awkward.

She swallows, then smiles. “Thanks for not kicking me out of your tent just yet.”

“Any time. I apologise in advance for whatever shit gets stirred in the morning.”

She lies back down, leaving an ample amount of space between them. She’s on the very edge of the top of the sleeping bag, but she’s had worse sleeping arrangements – namely, being slept on top of by Dorcas. She doesn’t know how she’s supposed to sleep when her stomach is rolling about like an ocean in a storm, but she’ll certainly try.

Her mouth is dry when she goes, “well, I’d say it’s better than cleaning kayaks.”

“Jesus, would you two shut up?” Sirius says.

___

(Later, Lily will think that a summer romance should go like this:

They fall in love at first sight. It’s meant to be a punch to her plexus, followed by everything you’re meant to feel when you fall in love; like they’re unwinding into each other, like their hearts beat as one, yada yada yada. She is not supposed to trip over her tongue around a cute, brash boy, or get into his tent, or have her friends manipulate them into spending time alone together. She is supposed to be confident and cocksure and charming. She’s meant to dazzle him with her smile and wit.

Later, Lily will think that, perhaps, the whole thing is total bullshit.)

___

PETUNIA: Found it. PETUNA: Antonia from across the road was borrowing it x

[dgcatanisiri]

The key to any good adaption is understanding a certain set of things.

1. Don’t be afraid to update the source material. Yes, even if it’s “timeless.”

All media is a product of its time, so you need to recognize that what worked for the original will not necessarily translate for the new audience. If a basic conceit of your product is a certain societal mindset is the norm (just, for example, that “homosexuality is inherently bad,” or “transgender people are inherently hilarious,” or “a woman’s place is unquestionably in the home”), you’re probably best off just packing it in then and there, it’s not going to work. Society evolves, times change, and while we can let these things slide for media that is older, we do not extend this same slack to media made now.

There’s a reason that a lot of stagings of something like Taming of the Shrew, or more modern adaptations like Kiss Me Kate or 10 Things I Hate About You, will often twist what is, on the page, Kate’s “tameness” being a show for the sake of winning the wager, that she is merely performing what is expected of her, while still maintaining her own independence and attitude, and that she has learned that she could use this performance to make Petruchio do as she wanted, or even that the both of them are in on it and have found an equal in the other - in the 15th century, “taming” a “shrew” was considered how one was supposed to be, that a woman was supposed to be subservient to her husband, and that her being so brash and bold from the start was already pushing the values of Shakespeare’s original audience. 

And this is the case of adapting something even as recent as ten, fifteen, twenty years ago - society has changed, and it’s recognized that what was seen as acceptable then was actually punching down at marginalized groups. That’s not funny. Comedy is the quickest genre to age, and the most likely to age poorly. Look at any given 90s romcom and you’ll notice a LOT of issues - the heteronormativity, where no one is gay (aside from MAYBE a single token character), the cast is mostly white - there may, at most, be a black best friend who may or may not be paired up with someone who literally exists for the purpose of arm candy, and you might spot an extra or two in the background, and they’ll use words that we now recognize as slurs so casually you’ll have to go back to realize yeah, they actually said that. And that’s not even scratching the surface.

When it comes to coming to an old piece of media and deciding “I want to do this again,” you absolutely MUST recognize what is no longer acceptable. And if the baseline concept of your selected media is something unacceptable, put aside the dream, this will not end well for you if you attempt to go through with it.

2. Recognize what works and what doesn’t for your medium.

This is something more for straightforward adaptations - book to movie, movie to TV show, stage to screen, etc. A change in medium is going to require a change to the material. It just is. This is why, for example, straight adaptations of video games are extremely hard to pull off - you’re changing an interactive media to a noninteractive one, and, in a lot of cases, that guts the core investment. It’s one thing to play Lara Croft as she raids the tombs, doing the platforming and puzzle challenges yourself. But as a movie, just taking any given game and making a direct 1:1 reshoot, you’re basically just watching her do the same thing with no involvement yourself, and, as a result, you end up watching a glorified cutscene.

It’s the same with stage to screen. Theatre is a medium of its own, with its own internal logic, rules, and structure. In theatre, a character can address the audience, it’s accepted. It doesn’t quite work as well on screen. (For further expansion, there’s a segment of Lindsay Ellis’s video essay on Mel Brooks and The Ethics of Satire that discusses how this works for the stage version of The Producers, but fizzled out in the 2006 film adaptation.) This is often a problem in film adaptations of stage musicals, that the directors don’t know what to focus on or how to film a large group of people, dancing and singing, so, while there’s some general competence, a lot of the film directors don’t have the same eye for them that they would in a straightforward dialogue-driven movie. Stopping the dramatic interaction between two people for what is, in effect, a symbolic struggle as they exchange heated high notes throws off the momentum of a director who knows how to stage the actors and move the camera in a direct argument, but gets confused when both parties dance across the soundstage all through the scene.

Likewise, books allow the audience to understand what is going through a character’s head during a scene, we are able to hear their thoughts and recognize what they’re doing without the character ever speaking a word. That is a luxury film’s nature doesn’t offer. Voice overs are a frequent way around this, but that too is limiting, generally forcing the film into a single viewpoint, which may not be how the narrative was structured. So this is where establishing dialogue has to be included.

This can be a problem, though, as the screenwriter may have a different style than the original writer, so, instead of transplanting dialogue, they have to come up with their own words, which can often end up just being an exposition dump. It can be done, but it is a tightrope walk.

3. Understand what can and can’t be cut.

A frequent problem of adaptations, especially to film, is that they are drawing on source material that maybe be, in a direct, 1:1 adaptation of the original, too long for a modern adaptation. This is a frequent issue with the Harry Potter adaptations, for example, where to cover all of the events of just the first book, would probably have clocked in at three and a half, even four hours, and they only got longer from there. Some things just had to go.

Which is a problem, because for the most part, if something is in the source material, it is there for a reason. Foreshadowing, character establishment, worldbuilding, whatever, there is a reason that any content is included in the first place. 

So you need to find ways to either condense or work around things - going back to Harry Potter, as a character, while he’d had his uses in the books, Peeves’s contribution to the overall tapestry of the series was small enough that he could be removed. Same with a character like Professor Binns, whose largest contribution was the exposition of the Chamber of Secrets, could have that shunted over to a character like Professor McGonagall, with no need to hire another actor for one scene and account for this character later (this later came into play with characters like Professor Trelawney, who appeared in all the books after her introduction, but not every film). 

The runtime makes a difference, especially given how much we see movies try to have as many showing per day as they can - the shorter the film, the more times it can be shown. So you need to know what can go and what can be condensed. 

But this can backfire - cutting a scene can often remove important context and characterization, even if it’s short or small. Star Trek, the 09 film, cut a scene between young James Kirk and his older brother. Now, it’s not really that important in this adaptation that Kirk has an older brother, so on paper, yeah, this scene getting cut made sense. BUT this scene featured Kirk’s older brother walking out because of the abuse being inflicted on them by “Uncle Frank,” and how he intended to sell their father’s car, how Frank was denying James Kirk a sense of being who he was, telling him “You’re no one.” This is what leads to the reckless theft of said car that did make it into the final cut, and made that joyride less into a moment of “fuck the man, I do what I want,” and more of a moment of declaration of him trying to find himself (and makes this kid shouting to the robo-cop “My name is James Tiberius Kirk!” less of a cutesy way of getting in the character’s full name and more a way of, again, showing him declaring who he is.) It also shows James Kirk’s desire for justice and fairness for people, a VERY important element for this character, showing him standing up for his older brother, ostensibly someone who should be standing up for him instead. This is a pretty big characterization moment that got cut, presumably because the casual audience didn’t know that Kirk had an older brother.

I realize that this is using a cut scene from the film script and not a direct adaptation, but I think that’s an important thing to bring up anyway, given that Star Trek 09 was an adaptation of a three year TV series - of course they had to condense, launch arcs that successive movies could pick up, all of that. But they still needed to establish these characters. By cutting this scene, you lose that core nugget of Kirk’s character, and we’re left with reckless asshole Kirk, the character a lot of people thought didn’t deserve the center chair by the end of the movie because moments like this didn’t make the final cut.

Know your story, know your characters, and understand how to keep their core identities while still cutting the things you can’t keep, because of medium changes or runtime concerns.

4. What new elements are you bringing to the table?

If you’re making a new adaptation of something, WHY are you making it? What is the benefit of not just a new version of old material, but even what makes YOU the correct storyteller?

Let’s give another example here. Let’s say that I am given the green light to go for a new adaptation of... oh, let’s say Superman’s early years, we’re ten years out from the end of Smallville, surely someone’s gonna start kicking that around eventually, let’s go with it here and now. My requirements are to keep the baseline of Smallville for a new show - high school Clark Kent, no flights, no tights to start with, developing, growing powers, friendship with Lex Luthor, same core cast to start with (so Clark, Pete, Chloe, Lana, Whitney, Lex, Lionel, Martha, and Jonathan), basically start the series fresh from the point of the original series’s pilot. How I go from there is up to me, re: how much/how little to incorporate from later in the series, when powers develop and in what order, when to introduce other characters... I just basically have to start fresh with the same components of Smallville that the original had.

So when given these components, I feel it is my obligation to create a new picture with them, because to just retread the old material, updates to the time and cast notwithstanding, is saying I don’t see this as worth doing anything different. And if that’s the case, why bother? It is incumbent on me to do different things with these pieces - maybe in this version, Lana’s a lesbian and dating Chloe, which mostly puts to bed the Clark-Lana relationship (or maybe she briefly uses Clark as a beard to cover her attraction). Whitney can become a part of the core cast, instead of being like the only opening credits characters who never learns Clark’s secret. Pete’s known about Clark’s powers for years. The meteor freaks ...okay, no, I’m calling them ‘metahumans’ from the start here, are going to be a more persistent element to the central struggle - none of the convenient karmic killing, Clark has to deal with the consequences of these characters having enhanced abilities, not just have them conveniently fall down and break their neck or something. Lex ends up brought into the core group, and it becomes a central conflict of his character arc that he may actually have the potential to not be the ultimate villain - this is an adaptation, it’s entirely possible that Lex being the bad guy is NOT a foregone conclusion, especially if one wants to take the moral of “nothing is written in stone, there is no fate.”

...shit, now I actually WANT to do this version...

See, that’s taking the same pieces and making a new picture with them. Because if you’re just going to redo the original, just let the original air in place of your new thing, because you have made no effort to change anything other than the bare minimum. Hell, even Smallville brought something new to the table by creating Chloe Sullivan, who did not exist in Superman media before, but has since appeared sporadically in the comics. 

Don’t just tell the same old story to tell the same old story. Bring something new to the table. If you’re really lucky, you may just add something that becomes so definitive to the franchise, when people talk about it later, they’ll wonder why it wasn’t there to begin with - another DC hero example, look at Batman the Animated Series, without which we would not have either Harley Quinn or Victor Fries’s tragic backstory, yet now both are considered iconic and core to the franchise and the character, respectively.

[kaluawoo]

Marauders’ Animagus Forms

Yeah yeah, I know, most people will probably say it’s obvious; James is a stag because of his pride, Sirius is a dog because he’s loyal, and Peter is a rat because he’s a traitor.

Yeah, I’m not buying those, at least not that simply. (This is gonna get long, so let me put it under a cut)

Let’s start with Sirius, because he’s gonna be easiest for me. I’m not disputing that he’s loyal, I know he is, and dogs are known to be very faithful - Other animals are, too, but dogs stand out due to their faithfulness towards humans in particular, and are more well-known for it than other domestic animals.

What, then, am I questioning? Well, why is Sirius a big, black dog? A dachshund is loyal, too. Or a toy poodle, or a Chihuahua. Or a corgi they’re adorable. But no, our dear Padfoot isn’t just a pooch, he’s a big, black, shaggy pup.

Now, let’s start with the breed. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think anyone ever mentioned one, so I’ll assume he’s a mutt. He didn’t have to be; there’s plenty of big dogs with black fur. Irish Wolfhounds come to mind, black labrador, Rottweiler or Dobermann (Though those aren’t fully black), even German Shepherds. He’s from a long line of purebloods obsessed with purity, but he is not a purebred dog.

Because Sirius rejected that idiology. I think an animagus can reflect a LOT about a person’s personality - There are so many different animal species, subspecies and breeds, after all - and refusing to obsess over blood purity like his ancestors was important for him; hence, his animagus form mirrors that.

Now, mutts still come in all shapes and sizes, but Pad is still a big black dog. The size, well, he wanted to keep a darn werewolf company; he must have REALLY wanted to be a big animal. Protecting and helping his friend was so important to him; and a big animal is much more easily able to protect someone than a small one.

That leaves color. A big black dog is also an omen of death; the Grim in Harry Potter specifically, and there are many English folk tales about black dogs like the Barghest. But first, as a nice tidbit: Not all those folk tales say the black dog is evil. Most, yes, but a few have the black dog as a protector; I distinctly remember one where people claim it’s perfectly safe to let children play on the meadows near that village because the dog is watching over them. Now, that sounds like it’s suit Pads.

But it’s more; even though he rejected his Black lineage, it’s still there, looming over him. To non-purebloods, the Black family is probably not the best omen, especially with Voldy on the rise. The first time someone hears Pad’s name, they won’t know that he’s not a blood supremacist; just like someone seeing a huge black mutt won’t know whether that dog is dangerous or not. Sirius may have rejected his family, but in a way, it’s still almost haunting him.

Next up is James. I’ll admit I don’t know as much about deer as I do about dogs (I heard they don’t make too great pets), but regardless, I think just “he’s proud” isn’t enough justification.

Lots of animals are associated with pride. Most prominently lions, but also tigers, and maybe to a lesser extent even domestic cats; also horses, sometimes wolves, and even if you want to stay deer-like, I’d say a moose, elk or reindeer is a tad more impressive than a Stag (I think he’s meant to be a red deer? It’s not explicitly mentioned, but that’s how I’d imagine him). So why did he end up in the shape that he did? If I’d want to keep a werewolf in check, I’d pick a moose. I would NOT mess with them.

First, the carnivores. It’s kind of hard to find the right words, but I’d say in some way, they’re too fierce. Of course, big carnivores don’t just go and kill stuff just because, but most tend to be more aggressive than herbivores; most herbivores as prey animals run away if there’s a danger, while carnivores, being predators, fight. James wouldn’t back down from a fight - And deer can fight, with both antlers and hooves - but once he’s grown out of his teens, he’s more of a carer and nurturer than a fighter, I’d say. And it took me a long-ass time to understand that, while he was a jerk as a teen, he most likely wasn’t one as an adult.

We still have a bunch of herbivores left, though. Well, moose are easy to leave out; they’re solitary, and I, for one, can’t imagine Prongs without his friends. Well, the simplest explanation would probably be that stags are just more well known for trying to impress their does, but I’m not here for analyzing meta reasons, I want to find in-story ones. So, I’ll cheat a little bit and say that the animagus form is mostly based on a person’s core personality, but influenced by lots of things: Not just how the animal actually is, but also how it’s perceived, the wishes of the animagus-to-be, how they think about themselves, all of that. Basically, it’s like the animagus form is trying to communicate as much about the human as it can.

James is, or at least was as a kid, something I’d describe in German as a “Wildfang”; literally it means “wild catch”. I don’t like the English translations I’m finding, so I’ll just describe it as someone - often a child, but sometimes also a young adult - who likes to bend or break rules, and wants to have fun in their own way without caring about society’s expectations of what or how they should be. A little boy preferring to stay out till dark with his friends instead of studying, or a girl playing in the mud without caring about her dress getting dirty. Sound like someone we know?

Now, as a “wild” boy, our little Prongs probably wouldn’t want to be a domesticated animal, or better, wouldn’t see himself as one. Horses can often be described as proud, but the well-trained ones are usually also very obedient.

And elk or reindeer, well... They might be more physically impressive than a red deer, but if people’s expectations about an animal play at least some part, then of course he’d end up the most well-known option, making him a stag. That also opens the interesting thought that it’s more than likely different cultures would cause different animagi, thanks to different ways of looking at animals, but I digress.

Last, but not least, is Peter. Honestly, he’s the main reason for this post, because I adore rats; I never kept any as pets, but I wanted to as a kid. Newsflash: Rats are not traitors. Again for the people in the back:

Rats are not traitors. Rats are incredibly social animals.

Yes, I’ve already assumed human preconceptions have an influence on the animagus form, but I don’t think they could overwrite the animal’s true characteristics. If they could, Padfoot being basically the Grim would mean he’s evil, but he isn’t.

Now that that’s out of the way, what do I mean with “social animals”? Some wild rats teach their young how to open pinecones to get the seeds, which is cute, but there’s something even more amazing: There have been experiments with a trapped rat, and a free rat. The free rat was able to push a button, releasing the trapped one.

It doesn’t stop there; in further experiments, they made it so the rat had to swim to get to the button, which rats normally don’t like. It did so anyway, to help the trapped one. They also put some delicious food out; the free rat often ate some, but not all, before releasing the trapped one, basically sharing the food. Unrelated to that, rats are among the rodents most likely to bond with their owner. Mice, degus (even though they’re adorable), even guinea pigs; some might bond with their owner, but by far not all. And even then, it’s kind of rare they’d want to cuddle - rats do.

And that is supposed to mean “traitor”? Really? Rats get a bad rep, I know, but how can you look at that stuff and decide “Yep, that means someone who can turn into a rat HAS to be evil!”?

So how does it relate to Wormtail? Well, while it’s a movie quote (Sorry - books are longer ago, and I haven’t read them as often as I watched the movies), I distinctly remember someone saying that Peter used to cling to his friends’ coattails, and at least I don’t remember any book quote refuting that. Rats are group animals, they need other rats in order to be happy; suits being a bit clingy with friends, doesn’t it?

Now, of course, rats aren’t the only social animals around. Wolves are probably among the most well-known, but there’s plenty of herd or pack animals. Well, first, I’d throw out the big ones - Wolves, lions, horses, etc. Yes, they’re group animals and need company of their own, too. But can you imagine Wormtail as a lion?

I’m verging into headcanon territory, but I feel like Peter probably lacked self-confidence and self-esteem. James and Sirius were cocky as they could be, and Remus, even though he probably had moments when he doubted himself, still comes across as mostly self-assured. But Peter?

Most big animals aren’t only known for being group animals; they’re also known for things like pride, strength, ferocity. Peter may have wanted to be a big animal to help his friend (yes he was part of the Marauders, another thing I took a long-ass time to accept. He betrayed them later on, but during Hogwarts, they were one group), but his self-doubts might have reflected on his form. What if he messed up? What if he couldn’t keep Moony in check and someone got hurt? As a tiny rat, there would’ve been nothing he could’ve done anyway, right?

Now, even small animals often have groups. Rabbits, guinea pigs, mice, degus... So there’s still lots of options. Some other things rats are known for is curiosity, intelligence, and being survivors.

Let’s start with curiosity. Wormtail was a Marauder. Secret passage? Neat! New path in the forbidden forest? Let’s check it out next full moon with Moony! He wasn’t just an accessory, he was part of the group, so I’m willing to bet he was just as adventurous as the other boys. While my degus are excellent at breaking out of their cage, they also get startled easily, not exactly adventurer material.

Now, intelligence. Okay, I’ll admit, I don’t remember if there were any mentions of Wormtail’s grades, but I remember reading a headcanon that he was the one best at coming up with excuses, and I can believe that, even though I’d guess his grades weren’t too great. He might’ve lacked book smarts, but he probably had a good helping of street smarts; bad application of ‘em, but he managed to frame Sirius for the murder of twelve muggles and then live with a family full of wizards - pretty smart ones, at that! - for a pretty long time. Look me in the eye and tell me that doesn’t require any cunning or intelligence. (I do say my degus are smarter than I am, but nobody knows what they are, and I just can’t imagine a new animagus ending up as an animal they don’t even know)

Last is the survival instinct. Look, talking to Voldy wasn’t noble, but it probably helped Peter’s survival. And, honestly? I have no idea what I would do in that kind of situation. Yeah, it looks like it goes against the social part, but - Does it? Voldy definitely threatened Wormtail’s life, but Wormtail was not alone. They sent his finger to his mother, if I recall correctly; what if Voldy threatened her, too? What if Wormtail had to decide between the lives of James, Lily and Harry, and the lives of his mother and himself? I adore my friends, but even though I hope I’d be able to protect them, I’m not sure if I could. And if my brother’s life was in danger, too, or my parents? I genuinely hope I will never, ever have to make a choice like that, because I couldn’t. I don’t love Peter for what he’s done, but I don’t exactly blame him, either. Fear makes you do weird things.

So, to wrap it up, Peter’s not a rat because he’s a traitor. He’s a rat because he’s social and loves his friends; he’s a rat because he’s curious and loves adventure; he’s a rat because he’s smarter than he thinks, and because he’s a survivor. Good people do bad things under the right kind of pressure, and being threatened with death - your own or a loved ones - is one hell of a pressure.

[messrsmemoirs]

So, I’m sorry this’ll be long, but I’m v interested in your perspective on this: how do u think this series of events: the werewolf prank, coupled w Sirius leaving home the very summer after that prank - played out from Remus’s perspective? Bc the prank might’ve confirmed to Remus all fears that Sirius dehumanised him & was way more like his family than they all thought, & maybe he was partly right on both counts. [1]

But I’ve never been able to disconnect Sirius’s leaving home from this incident (we know it happened the summer after the Prank bc that’s the only summer he could’ve been @ GP when he was 16, which is when he tells Harry that he left). & I have to wonder if Sirius so definitively siding against his upbringing (which ofc meant siding against a lot of toxic ideas, but their idea of werewolves being subhuman - given how Bellatrix talks about Remus & Tonks - is included in that) [2]

played a role in Remus forgiving Sirius to whatever extent for that prank. Bc it showed that if he was more like them than he could admit, he at least did NOT want to be, he wanted to be with James, Remus and Peter instead. It’s a different mindset from having an idea about werewolves and constant conviction that your idea is right; so given that, I’m wondering how Remus would’ve responded to it.[3]

I know it’s canon Remus forgave him, but tbh I’ve always had trouble working out the exact logistics of WHY - at least w/out bringing Wolfstar into it. [4]

Right, so firstly let me apologize to you and all the askers still waiting for me and my serious lack of response. It’s not personal, and it has everything to do with me and how I’m a complete mess of a human being. I take hours writing and formulating responses to asks and because it takes so long I end up setting aside a few hours just to answer one ask, and that feels like a big stress (and what if I can’t focus blah blah) so I end up getting stressed, and then avoid it for what feels like a month and surprise, it’s been six. .. Or more. So. Uh. … Sorry. 

So anyway, digging in to the core of the post:

I think we have to begin by examining firstly Sirius’ callousness and how it relates to his background with Remus. I do think that Remus was aware that Sirius could be downright abusive if he was left alone, and I would cite the way that JKR says Sirius’ features become like a dog with a scent at the sight of Snape: Sirius is an excitable person in that it was easy for him to lose track of what he was doing. When he zeroes in on something, there is a massive capacity for escalation. If ever there was a heat-of-the-moment excuse, Sirius’ face would be pictured with it. And while I think Remus and the others were aware of this (and of course it was something that Remus dealt with as a Prefect) I think it was something that they begrudgingly accepted as a part of Sirius that they, as a group, could try and help to subvert. Of course, with James “Arrogant Toe-Rag” Potter at his side, it wasn’t always easy to do the right thing. This is why someone like Peter helped to balance the group: a second voice of reason (though one not well-respected and one which was often overlooked, to be fair, but nonetheless). That isn’t to say that Sirius is a violent sociopath or that he’s unstable, but he was clearly a reckless, head-first, and very proud sort of teenager who would certainly shoot first and ask questions later. 

It’s easy to surmise that based on Sirius’ overall character and where he comes from, he didn’t grow up to be someone with a lot of emotional maturity. I think to a teenage Sirius especially, other people’s experiences weren’t as valid as his own. Other people mattered to him, clearly, but I think it was more that only the people he loved mattered above all else. And even with those he did care about, there was somewhat of a hierarchy: James, to Sirius, was like a brother. Like blood. James was family, and if anyone ever hurt James Sirius would destroy them. I think Remus was very important to Sirius, and Peter, too. But I think outside of James there was this sort of dispensability: to Sirius, he was always waiting to be abandoned by the people he loved. He loves Remus and Peter just as he loves James, but there’s something he can’t let go of and for whatever reason he doesn’t let them as near to him as James. And as far as other people? I think Sirius was wary. Un-trusting at best, and a bit of a “get them before they get me” kind of man, which on top of his emotional immaturity allowed him to be able to hurt people like Snape and not think much of it. It didn’t matter because the people Sirius cared about were having fun, and so was he. Snape (etc) didn’t matter, not in the long run. It’s also important to remember that Sirius was raised from birth to be someone for whom other (read: lesser) people dealt with the consequences of his actions. I think this would have been tempered somewhat by living among his friends at Hogwarts for so long, but it brings us back to the thing with Snape and such and how Sirius seemed not to have a line drawn in the sand–that is, no line that was too far to cross, no act that was too reprehensible. A detention served for bullying Snape was to Sirius an annoyance to be escaped from, not a punishment. His rejection by people like Lily was their problem to deal with, not his. I would argue that there is a sense of nobility in there as well, and that Sirius didn’t come down on those he didn’t feel deserved it. But that means that regardless of his intentions Sirius could justify whatever it was he was doing, because it was for him, or more importantly, for those he loved. 

Going back to Remus, I don’t think Sirius ever did consider Remus subhuman or anything like that. I do think there was a time around their initial discovery where Sirius had to confront the ideas he’d been taught about werewolves and that he decided (likely alongside and with the help of James and Peter) that Remus was none of those things and was a normal human, and their friend. I think it was more that Sirius just didn’t think of the consequences, or what it would mean for Remus that the Prank happened at all, because Sirius wasn’t the type of person for whom consequences truly mattered and that he just never got far enough in his train of thought to really consider Remus in all of it. Remus is someone Sirius is used to seeing constantly coping–whether it’s coping with his Furry Little Problem, or coping with the things that Sirius and James do for “fun”. Sirius may have just assumed that Remus would simply cope with this, too. He’s got enough practice with people being angry at him that he’s not scared of whatever Remus will say.

In the aftermath, I don’t think Sirius actually felt bad about what he had done. I think he knew full well that he had done something wrong, but that it was easier for him to understand and deal with the fact that Remus was in a great deal of pain rather than for him to understand the why’s about wrongness. For all his emotional immaturity I think Sirius understands pain, and I think it was really the scale of that pain which drove him to be apologetic and explain his intentions–which, I would bet, sent Remus up the wall, because Sirius didn’t actually have bad intentions towards him and yet through sheer carelessness had done something horrific. 

Rather than resulting in any great insight into why Sirius is the way he is, I have a feeling it was more that what saved their relationship was that brotherly bond that they both held for one another. I do think there was this shock initially about the whole thing, where Remus would have been distraught enough to think that maybe Sirius was just like his whole family, etc. etc. But, I think Remus would have eventually come down enough to really think about who Sirius is and what he represents by rebelling against his family in the past (as he had by accepting Remus as a friend and confidant, for example). I think Remus would have (with James’ help) really reflected on Sirius as a whole person, because the significance of the incident really merited a sit-down tbh. I think Remus decided that Sirius was his friend, his brother, and that while what he had done was horrific that he could take precautions not to let it happen again and that what mattered was that Sirius’ intentions were never to hurt him. Sirius realizing that he had caused Remus a significant amount of pain (again with James’ help to deal with it) would have more than likely seen him try to restore his good graces with Remus, though attempts to justify what he had done would have made it worse. I think for SIrius, saying “I fucked up and I admit that I fucked up” were enough for Remus at a certain point, because he knew that it was the closest Sirius could come to “I did something wrong and I apologize.”Remus, ever the self-sacrificing and deeply loving soul, probably forgave Sirius out of compassion. He saw that Sirius was not deliberately trying to ruin him, but that he was also a complete idiot. I think he made the decision to forgive knowing that the hurt would never truly go away, and knowing down the road that he needed to go about things differently after what happened. I think James was also a big buffer between their animosity as well, and that he really helped them move on. 

(However. I think it’s worth mentioning that rather than after his escape from Grimmauld place, I think this might be something that Sirius reflected on in Azkaban, actually. I think this is part of why he’s a little less guns blazing in the rest of the series–that, and certainly his need to protect Harry, whom he loved like a son.)

ASK COMPLETE! … Sorry it took so long, but I hope I did well enough!

[becausetherearestars]

Destruction of a Goblin Office

Chapter Three of Lord Thanatos here 

~ As soon as Hadrian closed the door, Tom dropped his glamour and flopped, very ungracefully in Hadrian’s opinion, into the wingback chair behind his meticulously organised desk. Running his hand through his chin length chestnut locks, taking and deep breath and turning crimson eyes to the young man in the room, Tom visibly prepared himself for what was undoubtedly going to be a long and difficult conversation.

“How were the Goblins?” he asked with a wary look on his face. Hadrian began to think the Dark Lord needed to channel his inner Gryffindor for this conversation, not that he’d ever say that out loud. He liked all his limbs where they were thank-you-very-much.

Hadrian seated himself in front of the desk, throwing his cloak over the back of the chair. “Now, now Tom. No ‘Hello, Hadrian’ ‘How are you Hadrian?’ ‘Well done in front of my scary minions Hadrian’?” A smirk grew on his face as the Dark Lord scowled. “You mustn’t forget your manners, my dear.”

“Hadrian, I swear. We only have an hour and, horcrux or not, I am not afraid to Crucio you. Please get on with it, I just know I’m not going to like it.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t get your wand in a knot. I walked in to the bank and as soon as they saw me they headed me off to Director Ragnok’s office. Apparently they’ve been sending me letters for 6 years and I haven’t received a single one.” Tom’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of the head of British Gringotts but he stayed silent and motioned for Hadrian to continue.

“Ragnok made me take an inheritance test and well, this is where it gets into the ‘of fucking course this happens to Harry bloody Potter territory’…” At this Hadrian handed Tom a sheet of parchment and motioned for him to read it. “See for yourself, you won’t believe me otherwise.”

Tom looked down and his eyes widened almost immediately.

Name: Hadrian James Potter

Age: 16 (emancipated, Tri-wizard Tournament)

Parents:

Paternal: James Charlus Potter (deceased)

Maternal: Lily Rose Potter (deceased)

Godparents:

Sirius Orion Black (blood adopted father, incapacitated)

Alice Longbottom (incapacitated)

Magical Guardian:

Albus Dumbledore (inactive since emancipation)

Creature Inheritance:

Living Vampire (paternal, Peverell line)

Mate: unknown

Donor: unknown

Lordships:

Lord Most Noble House of Potter (paternal)

Lord Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell (paternal)

Lord Most Ancient and Noble House of Black (blood adoption)

Lord Most Ancient and Noble House of Ravenclaw (maternal)

Heir Most Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin (conquest)

Blocks:

70% Magical Core Block (Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1, 1981) (50% broken)

100% Parseltongue ability (Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1, 1981) (100% broken)

100% Metamorphmagus ability (Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1, 1981) (10% broken)

100% Natural Occlumency (Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1, 1981) (30% broken)

100% Creature Inheritance (Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1, 1981)

100% Elemental Magic (Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1, 1981)

Potions:

Loyalty potion (keyed Albus Dumbledore)

Loyalty potion (keyed Weasley Family)

Loyalty potion (keyed Ron Weasley)

Loyalty potion (keyed Hermione Granger)

Love potion (keyed Ginny Weasley)

Hate potion (keyed Slytherin House)

Hate potion (keyed Severus Snape)

Hate potion (keyed Draco Malfoy)

Submission potion (keyed Dursley Family)

Submission potion (keyed Albus Dumbledore)

Contracts:

Marriage contract to one Ginevra Weasley (illegal, not filed)

“I think the old coot’s biggest mistake was he counted on me hating you on my own, purely for killing my parents.” Hadrian said casually once he thought Tom had come out of his shocked state.

“His biggest mistake... no, his biggest mistake was not forgetting to make you hate me! For fucks sake Hades, he might as well have altered your entire personality! And how in Merlin’s name are you still alive? You had 70% of your magical core blocked! I’m going to murder the old fool.”

Magic was whipping around the office, the air heavy with the thickness of the dark magic expressing the Dark Lord’s rage. Hadrian sat in awe for a moment, enjoying the sight of Tom’s addictive magic throughout the room. He wouldn’t say it out loud but the fact that Tom was so worked up over something bad happening to Hadrian warmed his heart a little bit. He did think he should probably stop Tom before he destroyed his office or something though, especially since this wasn’t the worst of the news he received at the bank.

Hadrian reached out with his magic for the link that connected Tom to the horcrux in his scar and sent a wave of calming magic through the bond. “It’s fine Tom, the Goblins put me through a purging ritual as soon as they saw this and put their office back together. They managed to unblock everything and get the potions out of my system and talk me through the creature changes,” he said waving a dismissive hand.

“You destroyed a Goblin office?” Tom asked with a sigh watching Hadrian intently as the younger man attempted to school his sheepish expression into something more befitting of a Lord.

“Ah, well… yeah, maybe I did,” he said nervously. “But they forgave me and we put it back together! No harm done!” Not liking the way this conversation was now going but thankful that it managed to pull Tom out of his rage for a moment.

“That’s not all is it?” the older man asked gravely.  

“Not even slightly, darling.” Hadrian said, grinning at the Dark Lord, “our ammunition for destruction only gets better from here.”

“So, the old man was my magical guardian, do you know what that is?” At the shake of the Dark Lord’s head he continued. “No, you probably wouldn’t, I don’t think you had one. Anyway, it’s the person who’s in charge of looking after a minor’s living arrangements, vaults, inheritances and, most importantly in my opinion, making sure the minor knows about the magical world. That they know how to navigate it and are prepared to take over the family when they come of age. Obviously, old Dumbles sucked at being my magical guardian because I had to learn all that shit by myself and didn’t even know about the magical world ‘till I was 11.”

“He named himself the magical guardian of Harry James Potter on November 1st, 1981, before Sirius was arrested I might add, dropped me off at the Dursley’s and walked away with almost complete control of the Potter vaults and seats.” Hadrian could see understanding come to Tom’s face as he figured out where this was going.

“Anyway, using my money, Griphook told me the old coot has been paying himself 1000 galleons a month, the Dursleys 500 galleons a month to ‘condition me’, the Weasley’s 100 galleons a month for ‘looking after me’ in the magical world, Weasel and Granger 100 galleons a month each for being my friends and the Weaselette 50 galleons a month in preparation for being the next Lady Potter.” At this Hadrian rolled his eyes dramatically. “like that would ever happen, i’m gayer than a herd of rainbow unicorns.”

Tom muffled a snort at that. Hadrian heard and counted it as a win.

“When he dropped me at the house of hell, he had my parent’s wills sealed, took control of all of Sirius’ stuff after the heirship passed to me at the end of last year. How he got that one done I don’t know, he has no connection to the Blacks…” Hadrian thought old Dumbles must have had to pull a lot of favours to get that one through and sat with a thoughtful expression on his face until Tom cleared his throat and motioned for him to continue. 

“Right, sorry,” he said ignoring the Dark Lord’s exasperated expression. “I listened to both wills and both my parents said I should go to literally anyone in the magical world before that bitch Petunia and her whale of a husband, so there’s another shot at old Dumbles’ good record. Along with condoning the abuse of a magical minor. I was supposed to go to either of my godparents, then Snape, then whatever nice wizarding family the ministry could find for me. Honestly, I think they would have preferred I went to you before the muggles.”

Mirth danced in his emerald eyes as a look of horror, then disgust passed quickly over the Dark Lord’s face. “Nope, nope, nope. I don’t do children. That would not have been good,” Tom said, barely repressing the shudder that threatened to wreck his body at the mere thought of having to look after a child..

Hadrian chuckled, briefly imagining a little kid calling the big bad Dark Lord ‘daddy’ before quickly pushing that thought aside (and the horror that came with it) and continued on with his story.

“Anyway, they left a few things to Snape and the other Marauders but, basically everything went to me.”

“I’ve looked through the Potter vault records. The Goblins have decided they like me so they’re recalling all the gold he took from there with interest. He’s also taken a boatload of books and artefacts from the main Potter vault and distributed them to his minions. Those will be harder to recall but the Goblins said they should be able to get 90% of the stuff back and payment for anything that can’t be returned.”

“Only you Hadrian, could get the Goblins to like you,” Tom said giving Hadrian a look mixed between fondness and exasperation. “Of course I can, old man, i’m nice.” Hadrian said sending a charming smile and a wink to the Dark Lord before a curse could be thrown his way as Tom muttered something about not being that old.

[incessantwritersblock]

L’Hex - Pas Si Simple

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Warnings: cursing, gossip, pranks, idk man.

Word Count: 3,732

Summary: James will find the mystery prankster if it’s the last thing he does.

About: This is the first installment of three stories inspired by various aspects of both the movie and musical Amelie, despite the two being very different and the Broadway run being way different than the LA run that I saw and enjoyed. Anyway, I decided to write a story for each of my three favorite marauders.

A/N: So, I originally wasn’t going to post these, but after being unable to write for a while, I decided it would be best if I simply posted something that had already been written. In this story, as well as the next two, you’ll probably notice some tropes, themes, dialogue, etc. that inspired other writings I’ve posted here. After all, they originally were supposed to stay hidden in a file deep in my computer while other works were supposed to be featured here. Life has a funny way of doing things we don’t plan for, though, so please don’t tear me to shreds for repeating things.

More Pas Si Simple: Moony, Padfoot, Prongs

You shouldn’t have, but you did. It was too much of a risk, but you couldn’t help yourself.

The bad habit developed at the beginning of fifth year. It was an accident really. Two boys from your house were talking just loud enough for the entire classroom to hear while everyone awaited the professor’s arrival. They said some nasty things about James Potter that made your blood boil from your spot in the second row. He’d changed, but some people never let him live down his past mistakes.

At the end of fourth year, you’d developed a bit of a crush on James when you’d been partnered up for a project. He turned out to be very different than you’d imagined, and you couldn’t resist stealing a glance at the boy across the classroom.

James tried to ignore the other boys, but the sparkle in his eyes dulled a bit at their words. With a flick of your wand beneath your desk, the two laughing boys’ faces erupted with boils, prompting the entire class to burst with laughter.

Nobody ever caught you, so you did it again. Then, you did it another time. Before you knew it, you’d taken it upon yourself to hex anyone talking badly of the kind boy with the sunshine smile. By the end of the year, James was curious as to who was behind it all, but not even he could figure it out.

Then, sixth year began. One day, you found yourself reading amidst the bustling courtyard. Across the way, you could hear four familiar laughs mingling with one another. You didn’t look up from the text, but it made you smile, well, until you heard two girls beside you, gossiping.

“Ugh, I hate them,” one said. She was taller with blonde hair, and she had a disgusted expression directed towards the marauders.

The other, a petite brunette, tried to reason, “I’m sure they’re not all bad.”

“Oh, please,” her friend continued, “all of them are rotten to the core, especially that James kid. I swear, I’d love to punch him–”

You cut her off with a flick of your wand, causing her to puke up a slug midsentence. You’d been so used to getting away with your little pranks that you hadn’t noticed one of your favorite teachers nearby. When she approached you, the color in your face drained.

“May I see you in my office?” Professor McGonagall inquired sternly, implying more of a demand then a question. Nodding timidly at her, you followed her graceful strides until arriving at her office. She shut the door behind you before motioning for you to have a seat. You situated yourself in one of the chairs before her desk before she joined you on the opposite side. After a moment of silently staring at your hands in shame, you heard her ask skeptically, “My dear, what on earth possessed you to do that? We both know you’re better than this.”

“I’m sorry, professor,” you replied with a shake of your head, “she was just saying awfully mean things about people, and I couldn’t stand to hear it.

“Still, my dear, you’re usually more sensible than this,” McGonagall replied.

You nodded in agreement, feeling as though you’d disappointed someone you greatly admired. “It won’t happen again professor. I promise.”

“It better not,” she warned, “I’ll see you in detention tomorrow in the dungeons. You may go.” At that, her attention turned from you to some papers scattered across her desk. Standing on shaky legs, you shuffled from your spot in her chair to the door. Just when you began to twist the knob, your professor spoke again. “Be thankful I’m only punishing you for this offense and not the others.”

“Of course, Professor McGonagall,” you mumbled, “Thank you.”

…

Detention was about to begin. You’d just arrived in the dungeons to find Professor McGonagall standing at the front of the room. After exchanging a silent smile with her, you sat down and waited for detention to begin. When the clock struck on the hour, the professor sighed in exasperation.

“Since your fello–”

“Sorry I’m late Minnie!” a familiar voice suddenly interrupted, “Quidditch practice ran a little late. We’ve got a new chaser to train if we’re going to win the quidditch cup this year, you know.” The voice belonged to none other than James Potter, who stopped speaking when he noticed you sitting there. “Hello.”

You smiled back at him in greeting before McGonagall gave no more time for chit chat. “You two are not to leave this classroom until it’s spotless, so I suggest you two get to work or else you’ll miss dinner.”

“Yes, Professor McGonagall,” you agreed while she made her way towards the door to enchant it, assuring that we wouldn’t leave unless we completed our assigned task.

“You’ll find everything you need in the broom closet.” With that last statement, she left with a slight smile on her face.

You quietly made your way to the broom closet to get started on cleaning, but when you turned around, James took you by surprise.

“Hey, Y/N. Haven’t really talked to you much since last year. How’ve you been?” the boy wondered.

You simply retorted, “I’m alright, but I don’t think we should be talking about our summers when we’ve got cleaning to do.”

James smirked while he gently took the bucket you held in your hands. “Who says we can’t talk while we clean. It’d make it a bit more bearable after all.”

“I guess you’re right,” you agreed, “So what’d you get detention for this time?” Grabbing a few sponges and cleaning solutions, you found a spot to start scrubbing cauldrons.

“Snivellus was being a jerk to some first years, so I hung him up outside by his robes.” His confession prompted a giggle from you, and it made him smile. “What about you?”

“Same thing,” you said without thinking.

“Same thing?” James incredulously exclaimed. He stopped scrubbing a wall that had been darkened by some explosion to look at you with a shocked expression.

You simply ignored him while you continued explaining, “Well, not exactly. I mean, I made this girl uncontrollably vomit slugs because she said some stuff about someone.”

“Still, I never saw you as one to hex people like that,” James maintained.

“I do it kind of often,” you confessed, “I just never get caught.”

James went back to cleaning. “You should hang out with Sirius, Remus, Peter, and me more often. We could use someone to help us from getting caught.”

“Oh, please. You love the attention that comes from being caught.”

“No! Not at all.”

“You’re such a drama queen.”

“Why, thank you!”

The rest of detention went by pretty quickly until you two had cleaned all that could be cleaned. Both of you were a bit disappointed you’d have to leave, but neither one of you voiced your thoughts. Instead, you tried to twist the doorknob to find that the door opened.

“I guess we’re done,” you grinned bittersweetly.

James nodded at you from the front of the classroom. “See you around, then?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “I’ll see you around, James.”

After you’d gone, James gathered his things and slowly made his way to the courtyard where his friends were lounging in the late evening light.

“Hey! Look who’s back!” Sirius cried while James approached, “What was your punishment today, Potter?”

James plopped his belongings down before he sat with the other boys and shrugged, “Nothing much, just cleaning a classroom. It was actually really fun, though.”

“Fun?” Remus questioned with a raised eyebrow. Detention wasn’t supposed to be fun, especially to James, who spent most detentions complaining that he was in detention.

“Yeah,” James affirmed, “I was paired with that girl I introduced you to in fourth year. You guys would like her. She even got herself into detention for pranking someone. Apparently, she does it a lot.”

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look. The same thought flashing in their heads. “So, why haven’t we seen her in detention before?”

“She says it’s because she’s too smart to get caught.”

“Do you think…” Sirius murmured with a look James couldn’t quite read.

He wondered, “Think what?”

“That she’s the mystery prankster?” Remus finished.

“What? Don’t be stupid, guys. She couldn’t be. I mean, she’s got better things to do with her time.” James couldn’t even entertain the thought. Sure, he thought you were awesome, but he’d never guess you’d be that perfect.

“It makes sense.” Remus thought back to all the times people had gotten their comeuppance. “She’s always there when things happen.”

“Plus, she’s definitely got a thing for you,” Sirius suggested with a smirk.

James rolled his eyes and turned away from his friends to hide the blush rising in his cheeks. “No, she doesn’t, guys.”

“Then prove it,” Sirius challenged, “Prove to us that she isn’t the mystery prankster, and we’ll believe you.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

“By figuring out the mystery prankster is,” Sirius said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. From beside him, Remus agreed with a nod of his head.

James sighed and stood. “Fine,” he begrudgingly agreed, “I’m going to eat, though. I’ll see you guys later.”

…

James looked out his window at the waning moon. It had to be about midnight by now, but he couldn’t sleep no matter how hard he tried. His mind kept finding its way back to the mystery prankster. He began concoct countless situations in his head. One where the mystery prankster was a random Hufflepuff girl who liked muggle sports. Another was one where it was actually Severus Snape the entire time, and “the greasy haired git” actually did have a sense of humor. One featured the idea of him mentoring a Ravenclaw a few years below him. However, his favorite by far was the one where he got to kiss the gorgeous girl who’d orchestrated the entire scheme after befriending him in fourth year. James would never admit it, though. Even as he smiled to himself while staring at the ceiling, hands behind his head, he just secretly hoped that his friends were right. What if they weren’t, though? James figured that he only found evidence pointing to you because he wanted it to be you. Either way, he needed to know who the mystery prankster was, so he decided to start his search in the morning.

The following day, he was out of his dorm before any of his roommates even bothered to wake up. He searched the castle far and wide for someone who could have any clue to who was behind it all, and his search took him to the hospital wing.

When he walked in, he noticed a familiar blonde girl with a bucket beside her bed with a few slugs in it. James’s face lit up at the sight of her sleeping. She had to know something. He rushed to her bedside before quietly shaking her shoulders.

“Hey! Hey! Wake up,” James frantically whispered, “I have to ask you something!”

Slowly, the girl cracked open her eyes. As soon as she was able to process who was standing beside her, she groggily hissed, “What’re you doing here? Get out!”

“I will. Just, please let me ask you something! I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t important.” James reasoned, checking over his shoulder to make sure Madame Pompfrey hadn’t heard them talking. The girl nodded at James for him to continue. “I’m trying to find out who’s behind this! I’ve got to if it’s the last thing I do, so do you have any idea who could be behind it?”

“No,” the girl scoffed, “I thought it was you and your dumb friends.”

James would’ve been offended if he had the luxury, but he had to get to the bottom of this before he got caught. He settled for a sigh before he tried another question. “Well, do you remember anything about what happened before or after? Like, tell me, in extremely specific detail, what happened. Please.”

“Well,” the blonde yawned, “I was in the courtyard. My friend and I were–”

“What time? What’s your friend’s name? Who else was there?”

“Calm down! I won’t tell you anything if you keep that up.”

“Sorry.”

“Now, back to where I was. My friend and I were talking about people we don’t like, and I mentioned how certain people just make me angry, and then, I just started vomiting slugs. Then, McGonagall called for Professor Slughorn to take me to the hospital wing. Now, I’m here.”

James waited a beat to make sure it was okay to ask questions before he inquired, “Well, who were you talking about?”

“Nobody. It’s not–”

“Look, if it’s my friends and me, just tell me.” She nodded ashamedly after his blunt statement, but James didn’t want her to feel bad. “That’s okay. Not everyone has the acquired taste it takes to befriend us. We’re classy like that, like escargot.”

The roll of her eyes informed him that any guilt was gone, so he then thanked her and ran away. Considering that Snape had also been pranked, maybe it had to do with his friends and him. James’s stomach fluttered with butterflies at the thought of you defending him, but then it sunk while he slowed to a halt in the middle of an empty corridor. What if it was just a coincidence? Even worse, what if it was because you were crushing on Remus or Sirius? James shook himself out of his thoughts. He didn’t even know if it was you. Instead, he decided to continue his search. That meant finding Snivellus. He’d undoubtedly know something if the mystery prankster did follow a pattern.

…

“Look, Potter. I don’t care if you’ve got to find this jerk. I’m not telling you anything!” Snape’s voice caused your steps to halt just before you turned the corner of the hallway. He was undoubtedly talking to James.

“Please, I just have to figure out who is behind all these pranks. I’m sure I’ll be able to stop them If I do.”

“No! Why do you even care?” You held your breath for some reason. You wished more than anything that you could see his facial expression in the silence that followed Snape’s question. “Merlin,” Snape piped up again, “You’ve got a crush on a stranger, don’t you? Do you even know what they look like? Wow, you’re pathetic. I hope they see you for the scum you are.”

You froze at the conversation. They were talking about you. Well, they didn’t know it was you, but James was looking for you. He seemed pretty hellbent on finding you too, so you decided to hide until he dropped the whole thing.

Classes went by uneventfully. You tried your best to stay in your dorm whenever you weren’t in a lesson or a mandatory obligation. Plus, James hadn’t been fast enough to catch you whenever you shared classes. He’d sent you a note one time in Slughorn’s class that told you he felt like you were ignoring him, but you wrote back that you’d just been busy and that he shouldn’t be passing notes in class.

After a week of getting nowhere, you began to think James had given up on finding the mystery prankster. Walking to the Great Hall, you pondered the concept of easing your way back into his life now that the coast was clear. However, you stopped dead in your tracks when you see a flyer posted beside the doorway.

“To the Hogwarts Mystery Prankster, Who are you? I’ve been searching high and low for you, and I’d do anything to find you. Please meet me? Anytime, anywhere. Just say the word.”

You checked over your shoulders to find that nobody occupied the empty corridor. While your heart hammered in your chest, you opened your bag to summon a quill. At the bottom of the parchment, in small lettering, you scrawled, “Friday 3:30 the clocktower”.

…

James couldn’t sit still. He continuously tapped his foot against the stone floor of the clocktower, causing the sound to echo up into the mechanism. It was 3:24. Every time someone would walk in or out of the room, he’d perk up only to find that it wasn’t who he was hoping. Time was taking forever to pass, and minutes felt like hours. It was now 3:25.

Reaching into a pocket in his robes, the boy fished out a little golden ball to twirl around in his hands. As it spun, the wings emerged and moved while he wove it through his fingers. It was 3:26. James knew whoever he was waiting for could walk in at any moment, and the thought made his heart hammer in his chest. He was finally about to meet the person he had been thinking about nonstop for so long. It was 3:27.

What if they didn’t live up to his expectations? What if it was some awkward kid who had the same ideals as Snivellus, and James would hate them? It was 3:28. Even worse, what if they exceeded expectations? What if they were the most perfect person on the planet? What if it was the girl he’d been crushing on since that project last year? It was 3:29.

James debated on running away. It made him nauseous to think that he wouldn’t live up to expectations if they were perfect. Then he remembered why he needed to meet in the first place, and he shoved the snitch back in his pocket, turning his full attention back to the doors. It was 3:30.

Minutes passed, hours too. James sat in the clocktower until he’d unknowingly fallen asleep. At 11, he was woken abruptly by a gentle shake of his shoulder. His eyes immediately shot open while exclaiming, “It’s you! Oh…” Remus stood in front of his friend with a sad smile on his face. “Hi, Rem.”

“Hi, James,” Remus greeted his friend, “you know, we should probably get back to our room. You’re technically not supposed to be out of bed, and I don’t think whoever you’re waiting for is coming. Come on, you can walk with me, so you won’t get in trouble.”

Thanks,” James halfheartedly mumbled while he nodded at his friend and stood. They didn’t come. He should’ve known.

Strolling out of the clocktower, Remus decided to break the awkward silence James brought with his thoughts. “You owe me one for being the one to find you, by the way. Anyone else would’ve given you detention and taken points,” Remus noted while they walked up to the Gryffindor common room entrance at the portrait hole. James didn’t reply, merely mumbling the password and strolling through the empty room and up to the dorms. He was obviously disappointed that he’d been stood up by whoever, so Remus figured he might like to talk about it. “Who were you waiting for?”

“Them.” Anyone who knew James knew who he was talking about. “They told me they’d meet me in the clocktower at 3:30 today, and they didn’t even show up. Merlin, I’m an idiot.” Sirius perked up from reading atop his bed when his two friends entered their room. He knew who James and Remus were talking about immediately.

“Wait,” Black inquired, “You met them? Who was it? Was it Y/N? Please tell me it was Y/N!”

“I don’t know who it is, Sirius. They never showed up.” James reached into the pocket of his pants to fish out the scrap of paper with the time and place written on it only to crumple it up and throw it across the room in distress. He then proceeded to plop down onto his bed with his face in his pillow.

When Remus walked over to the crumpled parchment, James couldn’t see. He only perked up after Remus unfolded the scrap and announced, “I know this penmanship.”

“What?” Goosebumps prickled across the skin of James’s neck at his friend’s revelation. He lifted his head to find Remus digging through his school bag to retrieve a notebook.

“The penmanship,” he clarified, “It’s the same as the charms notes I borrowed. Look.” He flipped through pages of the notebook until he found a satisfactory comparison before he showed James the two samples.

James traced his fingers down the writing before he nearly whispered, “Whose notes are these?’

“Y/N’s.”

James bolted out of the room, rushing to your door to knock loudly. He twisted the knob to find it locked despite the light escaping the crack below, so he knocked again. There was no response after a minute, and James knocked a third time. “Y/N, I know you’re in there. Please open the door. I have to talk to you about something important.” There was no response. “Y/N. I know it’s you. Please, open the door.” Nothing. “Y/N… Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” Your voice was quiet, muffled by the door. It sounded like you were nearby.

“Are you going to let me in?” James quietly inquired, afraid of the answer.

“No.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Just… stay.”

A moment passed while James pressed his forehead against the wood. “I can’t stay here all night, Y/N. Please, open up. There’s something important I have to do, and it can’t wait.”

James held his breath after he spoke, but there was a click of a lock. He took the handle in his hand, and slowly cracked the door open. You stood a few feet away, looking a bit like a deer in the headlights. James could hardly believe it was you this whole time, and when his eyes met yours, he rushed over to you, taking your face in his palms, and crashing his lips against yours with so much adoration.

You were scared he’d hate you, but the second he started kissing you, you kissed back. While he gently held your face, your fingers ran through the mess of dark curls atop his head. When you broke apart, James rested his forehead against yours. Both of you giggled a bit to yourself before James mumbled, “I’m so glad I found you.”

“Me too,” you confessed before kissing him again, this time, gentler than the last.

tagging: 

Nobody right now, but let me know if you want to be.

[lorelaisgilmoresarchive-blog]

- ̗̀ ❝ i solemnly swear i am up to no good: marauders verse !!

           *evil laughter* my dreaaaam has finally come trueeee!! my time to shine has come, and my harry potter knowledge will finally be appreciated? too much? probably but idc i’m excited ya’ll!!, but anyway let’s talk characters, my kids below the cut!!

alice fortescue..* 

full name: alice minerva fortescue

blood status: pure-blood 

house & year : gryffindor ;; 7th year

wand: 10 ½ in. applewood wand with a dragon heartstring core ; unyielding

patronus: dolphin ;; the witch or wizard who casts this patronus is known to be adventurous, playful, and carefree ; incredibly unique individuals, quite often social and loved by most. inquisitive and full of life they understand the importance of not taking themselves too seriously.

boggart: spiders, she absolutely loathes them one of her worst fears is to end up in a place surrounded by them. ( she’s had dreams where she is covered in them and that’s driven her to have panic attacks. )

extra curriculars: chaser for the gryffindor quidditch team ;; dueling club, care of magical creatures club and astronomy club.

future aspirations: auror for the ministry of magic & member of the order of the phoenix

sunshine personified, miss alice is literally always putting a positive spin on everything. little witch looks for the best in everyone and would befriend a scorpion if people let her. however that’s the trick when it comes to alice, she may be soft and gooey on the outside but she’s a rock on the inside. underestimating her is probably the last thing anyone should ever do. she lives in diagon alley above florean fortescue’s which is the family business. her dad is the willy wonka of ice-cream ( u know eccentric genius type lmao. ) she has 3 older brothers, all part of the order and her mom is a healer at st.mungos. excluded from the sacred 28 bc they unconventional and v. vocal about their support for muggles and muggle borns. in fact alice loves muggle fairy-tales and she tried making a book club at hogwarts but she forgot when the meetings were lmao. ( i could go on i’ve played her so many times and i adore her so pls )

andromeda black... *

full name: andromeda black

blood status: pure-blood

wand: 10 3/4 inch hawthorn wand with a unicorn hair core, unbending. 

house & year : slytherin ;; 6th year

patronus: owl ;; symbolizes a strong aura of wisdom, and individuals with it shine intellectually. They are not very social people, but they tend to be very admired for the impression their blatant knowledge of the world. Others tend to be comfortable going to these persons for advice, because they know they are trustworthy.

boggart: her sisters forgetting who she is, aka seeing a boggart version of bella or cissy who refuse to acknowledge her or ask her who she is will send her into a spiral. 

extra curriculars: 6th year prefect for slytherin house, slug club & transfigurations club

future aspirations: healer for st. mungos. wishes to remain neutral in the war to come. 

from the most ancient house of black, andromeda is the 2nd and middle child she has an older sister and a younger one. her sisters are her entire life, bella and cissy are her world so literally don’t breathe near them she will end you. tends to be an observer more than she is someone who carries out conversations. very much one of those ‘ one word ‘ sort of people, unless she’s with someone she trusts. she appears rigid and can intimidate those who don’t know her. however once you get past her tough exterior she is incredibly kind. respectful of everyone, and very much a believer of treat me the way you want to be treated. now while she isn’t exactly a fan of muggles or muggleborns she isn’t against them? ( tbh someone pick up ted we can plot stuffs. ) like she’s not okay with the cruelty that people of her status show them but she is also bound by tradition. she is very loyal to her family, respects her parents and most importantly wishes to make them proud so it’s like a constant struggle for her? because a lady should be demure and un-opinionated and those are things andromeda black won’t ever be.

james potter...*

full name: james charlus potter

blood status: pure-blood

wand: 11" with a dragon heart string core, mahogany, pliable

house & year : gryffindor ;; 7th year

patronus: stag ;; the witch or wizard who casts this patronus is known to be noble and brave. strong temperament, came come across as intimidating in more than several instances. quick to defend those he cares about, a protector of formidable sorts. 

boggart: the deaths of the people he cares about in particular it would be his parents, sirius, remus, peter and while he’ll never admit it... lily.

extra curriculars: head boy and quidditch captain for the gryffindor team he is a chaser. part of the dueling club and transfigurations club. turned down slughorns invitation for the slug club bc he’s not a git.

future aspirations: in a perfect world he’d be a quidditch player, but they are at war so auror it is. has joined the member of the phoenix.

adored from the moment he was conceived, his parents are of the older generation and they struggled to have children so james is very much a miracle baby. that’s why he’s so spoiled, literally anything he could ever want he’s had. so he’s been the golden boy since birth practically... so why would hogwarts be different? he’s the epitome of ‘ cool ‘ along with his best friends the marauders, sirius, remus and peter. he is an unregistered animagus and can turn into a stag ( the same as his patronus ) a hot head, he will literally throw a punch and then remember he owns a wand it’s a problem. cares little to nothing about purity and will fight anyone who deems it important. arrogant, but very noble and he can inspire loyalty in more ways than one. but also he’s an idiot show off, as much as he’s a ‘ genius ‘ when it comes to classes he don’t know women... aka he doesn’t understand evans... he tryin tho lmao.

alecto carrow...*

full name: alecto carrow

blood status: pure-blood

wand: 11 inch, blacktorn wand with a dragon heart string core, unyielding 

house & year : ravenclaw ;; 7th year

patronus: she can’t produce one, a patronus is light magic aka not stuff she believes in.

boggart: the death of her twin brother.

extra curriculars: dueling & slug club

future aspirations: hit witch and hopes to find her spot within voldemort’s rank as a death eater.

cruel, vindictive but smart. incredibly smart, she has a thirst for knowledge hint as to why she was sorted into ravenclaw house. ( bc not all death eaters were slytherins damn it ) independent and fierce, you’ve heard of an ‘ ice queen ‘ that’s alecto, always in control... emotions are for the weak minded. except where her brother is concerned, her twin brother is an extension of herself so as a true narcissist she has to love him because he is a part of her. she doesn’t have the best reputation around the castle and would probably kill your pet and hang it up in the great hall for everyone to see... simply because you spoke to her and she considers you unworthy. no conscience or apathy just pride and a lot of zeal for the pure blood supremacy cause. she is attracted to the dark arts, to pain and misery and she isn’t shy about letting anyone know that. 

remus lupin..*

full name: remus john lupin

blood status: half - blood, werewolf.

wand: 10¼ inch cypress, with a unicorn hair core, pliable

house & year : gryffindor ;; 7th year

patronus: wolf ;; The wolf is a bit of a darker and mysterious soul, with the strength of a fighter. A person with this patronus has had a lot happen in their life, and do to that they wear a mask over their emotions. They do, however, have a very big heart that is full of both passion and fire. They have a lot of emotion within them that they are willing to give, but only once they completely trust you.

boggart: the full moon, for v. obvious reasons.

extra curriculars: 7th year prefect, dueling & charms club

future aspirations: outside of joining the order, he doesn’t let himself dream of a job because his kind aren’t hired anywhere... bc you know discrimination. 

he was attacked by fenrir greyback to take some kind of revenge, after his father insulted him. aka he suffers from lycanthrophy. this would have made it impossible for him to come to hogwarts but dumbledore disagreed. so precautions are set in place, the whomping willow, the shrieking shack will get it’s reputation because of remus. ( it’s a secret, so there aren’t many people who know. in fact it’s only james, sirius, peter and lily. )  this is where he was taken to transform once month, and turning is painful especially because he is separated from humans to bite so he’d bite and scratch at himself because of frustration. anyway that didn’t exactly matter much because he has friends, real friends. he didn’t have them until he came to hogwarts and he was terrified that they’d find out the truth... but you know once they did they all decided to become an animagus... and thus begin the adventures of the marauders. remus is a good student, he’s talented and well behaved sort of.... at least he behaves better than james and sirius. dumbledore made him a prefect in his 5th year and they think it’s so he’d exercise some control over his friends. spoiler: he doesn’t. 

[myself-and-the-marauders]

Train Rides: Young!James Potter x Reader *Smut*

A/N: Okay, so, this wasn’t suppose to go out until after ‘Wait For Me’ part two, but I’m like, physically and mentally not able to write that right now, and I don’t know why, so I just decided to finish this. Oh and also, I decided to post this tonight instead of tomorrow cause it was basically done, ops. 

If you didn’t read the title, this is a smut, this is also my first attempt at writing smut so, it may not be fantastic. I apologize if it doesn’t go into great detail or anything, like I said, I’m new to writing smut so this was really awkward for me to write, but I had to start somewhere, soz.

As smuts go, please do not read this if you’re uncomfortable with sexual situations, it’s tots fine to skip out on this one, my dude. 

Anyway, Enjoy! ♥

Word Count: 1504

Warnings: Mild Smut, Fluff(ish)

A field of blurred shapes and colors filled my vision as I lied my head again the glass of the window. The only thing there was to look at was an endless stretch of grass, littered with a couple trees as it flew past my eyes. The bright sun reflected against the water, causing my eyes to burn.

Spacing out, I traced my fingers in a figure eight against the chilled glass, oblivious to anything going on around me. As my eyes followed the pattern of my fingers, I felt a light tap on my shoulder. Blinking a couple times, I let my hand fall from the glass and then slowly turned my head to the right, making eye contact with a pair of beautiful brown orbs.

Giving me a dorky grin, he clasped his hands in front of him. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Bored." I said through a yawn while turning my body in James' direction."How long has he been passed out?" I giggled, cocking my head at Sirius who lied pass out against the booth seat.

"Damn near the entire ride," he laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Must be a dog thing."

"Must be," I said through laughter as I watched Sirius' eyebrows bunch together in the center of his face.

After a few seconds, our laughter had died down and the train car once again fell into silence. Looking around the car, everyone but James and I were sleeping soundly, looking as comfortable as could be.

Not knowing what to do, I began tapping my thighs with my thumbs. Shifting my eyes back to window, I felt small pricks of nerves start to build in the pit of my stomach as I became fully aware of his presence beside me.

As if confirming my anxiousness, two warm hands placed themselves on my hips and pulled me back, right into his lap.

After getting comfortable, he wrapped his arms around my waist and brought his lips to my ear. "You're ignoring me." He whispered, dragging his tongue on the outer ring of my ear. "Why are you ignoring me, love?"

The way the words left his mouth so smoothly sent my body melting into his. "I-I'm not." I whispered awkwardly, he knew just how much of a reaction I had when he did this, why is he choosing to do it now?

Nuzzling his face into my neck, he sunk his teeth into the soft flesh that connected my neck to my shoulder and ran the tip of his tongue over it. "Yes you are."

A small whimper left my mouth as I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. "J-James we c-can't do this here." Contrary to my words, my fingers made their way to his hair and tangled themselves in his messy locks.

Responding with a low groan, James ran his tongue over the bite once more before moving his lips up my neck and next to my ear, leaving small pecks along his way.

"You say that..." he started, snickering, "but then you do things like that." His husky voice whispered in my ear, lightly blowing air into it. "Are you absolutely sure you don't want to...?" His voice teased me as his right hand dropped down to my thigh.

I had nothing to say at this point. His tongue continuously lapped over my neck as his hand ever so lightly pried my thighs apart. Taking this moment to tease me further, his fingers traced small circles on my inner thighs, right below my core.

"J-James..." I whimpered, bitting the inside of my cheek to stop myself from getting any louder.

"Hmm?" He hummed, letting his fingers trail  dangerously close to my center.

"W-what if someone notices us?" My words were dragging together now. The fact there there were three other people in the car that could see us slowly drifted from my mind.

"We can stop..." James chuckled in my ear, knowing clearly that I'm not in any state for him to stop.

Not taking his eyes off me, James cupped the spot between my thighs and gently ran the tips of his fingers over the fabric that covered it. I was already an absolute mess and this made it worse, I had basically become putty in his hands.

"And you say you don't want this..." he chuckled as I leaned further and further into his hand.

"James please..." I whined, my grip on his hair tightening. At the point I was at, I couldn't care less if someone saw us, I just needed him.

Nodding to himself, he removed his hand from it's spot between my legs, only to sink it underneath my jeans. Taking his time, he slowly traced his cold fingertips over the waist band of my panties, making my body jolt slightly.

"James..." It was as if I couldn't say anything else, I needed some sort of contact from him and he wasn't complying. "Please..." I whined, turning my face to bury it into his chest.

"Patience, love." He whispered, letting out a small tut of laughter as he let his fingers travel lower.

Ever so lightly, he let his fingers graze my clit, making my body jump into his. The smallest of whimpers left my mouth as I bit my wrist, knowing if I was any louder we'd get caught.

"Here you are, complaining to me about how this is wrong, yet..." Bringing his left hand up, he ran it through his hair a dragged it down his face, letting out what seemed like a growl. "Merlin...you're so wet right now."

At this comment, he quickened his pace, flicking one finger over the small bus of nerves while another teased my entrance, causing my head to dig into his chest. Going further, his fingers stopping his previous flicking motion and began to press down, making slow circle over my already throbbing clit.

My mind was basically screaming, threatening to be let out. Trying to find something to clutch onto, my fingernails dug into his left arm that held my waist, evoking another low groan that only intensified my pleasure. "Oh my god, James." I moaned, as I bit my lip.

"Shh." James whispered in my ear as he bit down on the thin flesh. "Wouldn't want to wake them, now would you?" No sooner than when he finished that statement, he harshly pushed two fingers past my entrance.

"I-" My back arched against him at the realization, making my mouth fall open into a silent moan as my head fell back onto his shoulder.

Beginning to slowly push deeper, I could feel the coil rapidly begin to unwind in my stomach, I didn't have much longer.

Returning his mouth back to my neck, he began sucking on the opposite side he had before while relentlessly pushing his fingers further, grazing the spot that only he could find deep within me.

"C'mon..." His husky voice whispered in my ear, begging me to let go. "I can feel how close you are." The vibration of his voice sent me into utter bliss, making my toes curl. My mouth fell open into another silent moan as I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Almost there, baby..." James' voice whispered in my ear as his fingers dug even further. "Just let go."

Circling his thumb one last time, my body was sent over the edge. My teeth sharply dug into my lip to stop myself from moaning as I stiffened in his arms.

"There you go...did so well for me." James whispered in my ear, slowing the pace of his fingers until they gradually stopped. "So, so well."

Laying on him, I took a couple deep breaths, trying desperately to even them. After a couple minutes of utter silence, my eyes hesitantly opened, resting on the face that hung in front of mine. I could feel the flush gradually come back to my face as I watched his eyes narrow, a small smirk growing at the corner of his mouth.

"So..."He trailed off, running his hands over my sensitive thighs.

"No." I breathed out, knowing exactly what he was going to say.

"Fine, you'd better be prepared for tonight then." He whispered, the cocky smirk still plastered on his face as gently pushed me off his lap. "On a different note..." His voice trailed off as he gestured to boys who lied passed out in front of us.

"Yeah..." I watched their bodies slow rise and fall with the shallow breaths they were taking. "How the hell have they been sleeping this entire time...?"

"Suppose they don't enjoy train rides..." James' trailed off before slowly turning his head in my direction, another smirk forming on his lips. "Though...I believe you quite enjoy them, don't you?"

"I hate you." Was the only thing that I could come with as I turned my head away from him, causing loud laughter to fill the car.

"Don-don't worry love, I quite enjoy them too." He managed to speak through his laughter.

"Oh, I'm sure you do, James. I'm sure you do..."