#anyways this was a verys trange day for me

[dishwatergothic]

ok so I was at work washing dishes, and I was stacking plates and I stand up and who should be standing right there. Misha collins

[braveclementine]

Chapter 5

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (However they are very few so those under the age of 18 can still read a majority of this book. However please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

ℑ𝔴𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔲𝔭 to Mrs. Weasley banging on my door and saying, "Elizabeth! Get up! We've got a busy day ahead of us today!"

I groaned and rolled over on top of Severus. I gave a start, only now remembering that he'd stayed over.

"Hello love." Severus muttered sleepily, reaching up and tucking my hair behind my ear. "What a wake up call."

I groaned. "I hate cleaning this house."

"We still have a few minutes." Severus said, pushing me off of him and then rolling over ontop of me and pressing his lips to my throat. I gasped.

"Yes, well." I said with difficulty. "Dad could come up at any moment and- and-" Bloody hell, he was distracting! "-kill you possibly?"

He chuckled and pressed his lips to mine again and rolled out of bed, pulling me out with him. I shivered in the cold air. He rubbed his hands on my shoulders. "I ought to sneak out then, shouldn't I?"

"Something like that." I said through clenched teeth so they didn't chatter. Who knew August could be so cold?

He kissed my temple and then slipped out the door. I didn't hear any outbursts of rage and I quickly got dressed and made the bed, feeling much happier than I had last night.

However, my happiness dissipated about half an hour later in the drawing room. The drawing room was olive green and on the first floor. The carpets were dust filled. The moss-green velvet curtains were buzzing with hidden doxies. Lovely.

Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George were already wearing cloths over their faces and holding a black bottle of Doxycide. Harry and Ron were standing in front of me, having entered the room before me.

"Grab your face masks and take a spray." Mrs. Weasley said, nodding to the table. I took a mask and hooked it over my ears and picked up a bottle. "It's Doxycide. I've never seen an infestation this bad- what that house-elf's been doing for the last ten years-"

"Kreacher's really old, he probably couldn't manage-" Hermione said while I rolled my eyes.

"You'd be surprised what Kreacher can manage when he wants to, Hermione." Sirius interrupted, coming into the room and carrying a bag of dead rats.

"Kinsley's about to ring the doorbell." I warned Sirius.

"Thanks for the warning, Elizabeth." Sirius said. "I was just coming in to take a look at the writing desk. . ."

"It's a boggart." I confirmed, "But you guys will have Moody check anyways. I'll tell Harry why you've got a bag of rats too. Stop Kingsley before your mum starts screaming again."

"Right you are." Sirius said, carrying the bag of rats out and closing the door behind him. But it was to late. The doorbell rang and though we couldn't hear, Mrs. Black was screaming somewhere upstairs. I sighed.

"You tried." Fred said, shrugging. I shrugged too. Didn't do any good.

Mrs. Weasley was looking through Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests. I nearly snorted. "Right, you lot, you need to be careful, because doxies bite and their teeth are poisonous. I've got a bottle of antidote here, but I'd rather nobody needed it."

Harry inched over to me, "So why does Sirius have a bag of dead rats?"

"Buckbeak." I muttered out of the corner of my mouth.

"All right-" Mrs. Weasley was saying, "Squirt!"

I sprayed the bottle liberally until the doxies actually came out of the curtains. Then, I started spraying them like in a shooting game that Trang and I had played once at her house. She'd introduced me to a new favorite Muggle past-time: Video games.

I threw the paralyzed doxies into the bucket and sometimes- on purpose- missing and throwing them straight into Fred and George's hands. They were pocketing them for their skiving snack boxes.

After we finished with the doxies, Mrs. Weasley pointed at the dusty glass-fronted cabinets and said, "I think we'll tackle those after lunch."

I looked inside the cabinets out of curiosity. There were many rusty daggers and claws in one of the cases. Another held a coiled snakeskin- probably because the family had been in Slytherin. Or maybe because the Black crest had a snake in it. In another was multiple silver boxes that were tarnished and inscribed with runes and several different languages. I recognized Bulgarian, Korean, and Greek out of a few of them. On the top shelf was a crystal jar with an opal stopper in it. It would've been pretty if it wasn't filled with some sort of blood. I wondered if along with chopping of house-elves heads, Mrs. Black drained them of their blood too. I shivered and looked away.

The doorbell rang again and a moment later, Mrs. Black started screaming again. Mrs. Weasley grabbed up the bag of dead rats and said, "Stay here. I'll bring up some sandwiches." I wrinkled my nose. I hated bread.

After she left, the others dashed to the window and I slipped out the door and down the stairs. Sirius and Kingsley were in the hallway, opening the door. Mundungus was on the front step with a stack of cauldrons.

"Molly's going to have another child Dung." Sirius said, shaking his head. "I don't know if we can keep them here. . ."

I stepped off the stairs and trailed behind them to the kitchen. What I really wanted, was food- and not bread.

I made myself a plate of cheese, salami, pepperoni, and grapes. Tonks and Dad were talking in the kitchen. "Who's at the door Elizabeth?" Dad asked me, looking up.

I nearly replied "I don't know" but instead said, "Dung. He's-"

But at that point, Mrs. Weasley shouted at the top of her lungs, "WE ARE NOT RUNNING A HIDEOUT FOR STOLEN GOODS!"

Dad sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. "Wonderful." He said, his hand clapping down on his leg.

"-COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE, AS IF WE HAVEN'T GOT ENOUGH TO WORRY ABOUT WITHOUT YOU DRAGGING STOLEN CAULRDONS INTO THE HOUSE-"

I sighed. "Don't know why she cares. Half the stuff in this house could get us put in Azkaban."

"That's why we're getting rid of it." Dad said lightly.

I shrugged. "The cauldrons will be here for a shorter amount of time than half the things in this house anyways."

Mrs. Weasley came storming into the kitchen and saw me. "I thought I told you to stay upstairs Elizabeth!"

I gritted my teeth and picked up my plate of food and went back up the stairs. I might row with dad, but I wasn't going to row with Mrs. Weasley when nearly everyone was rowing with her back.

Back in the room, I noticed Kreacher was in there. He didn't seem to notice anyone and was muttering, ". . .if she knew the scum they've let in her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh the same of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do. . ."

I was feeling angry already and angrier still that Kreacher was talking bad about the people I loved.

"Hello, Kreacher." Fred said very loudly.

"Kreacher did not see Young Master." Kreacher said, turning around and bowing to Fred. "Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is."

"Sorry?" George asked. "Didn't catch that last bit."

"Kreacher said nothing." Kreacher said, bowing to George now and saying, "and there's the twin, unnatural little beasts they are."

Harry looked confused, looking like he didn't know if he should laugh or not. I supposed, for an outsider, it would be funny.

"What are you doing Kreacher?" I asked.

Kreacher turned to me and bowed and said, "Kreacher is cleaning. And there's the bitch of the werewolf. . . oh my poor mistress."

I gritted my teeth. Harry had stopped looking like he might laugh.

Kreacher had straightened up now and was saying, ". . . and there's the Mudblood, standing there bold as brass, oh if my Mistress knew, oh how she'd cry, and there's a new boy, Kreacher doesn't know his name, what is he doing here, Kreacher doesn't know. . ."

"This is Harry, Kreacher. Harry Potter." Hermione said tentatively. I rolled my eyes. Somehow, Hermione thought kindness was the best way to deal with Kreacher. Bloody hell.

"The Mudblood is talking to Kreacher as though she is my friend, if Kreacher's Mistress saw him in such company, oh what would she say. . ." Kreacher said, his eyes widening.

"Don't call her a Mudblood!" Ron, Ginny, and I all exclaimed together.

"It doesn't matter. He's not in his right mind, he doesn't know what he's-" Hermione whispered to us.

"Don't kid yourself, Hermione, he knows exactly what he's saying." Fred said, eyeing Kreacher with great dislike.

"Is it true? Is it Harry Potter? Kreacher can see the scar, it must be true, that's that boy who stopped the Dark Lord, Kreacher wonders how he did it-" Kreacher muttered.

"Don't we all, Kreacher." Fred said.

"What do you want anyways?" I asked again.

"Kreacher is cleaning." He said.

"A likely story." Sirius' voices said from behind me.

Kreacher flung himself into a ridiculously low bow that flattened his snoutlike nose on the floor. Sirius, Fred, George, and I were all glaring at Kreacher.

"Stand up straight. Now, what are you up to?" Sirius asked a bit impatiently.

"Kreacher is cleaning. Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black-"

"-and it's getting blacker every day, it's filthy."

"Master always liked his little joke. Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother's heart-"

"My mother didn't have a heart, Kreacher. She kept herself alive out of pure spite." Sirius snapped.

"Whatever Master says. Master is not fit to swipe slime from his mother's boots, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him, how she hated him, what a disappointment he was-"

"I asked you what you were up to. Every time you show up pretending to be cleaning, you sneak something off to your room so we can't throw it out."

"Kreacher would never move anything from its proper place in Master's house. Mistress would never forgive Kreacher if the tapestry was thrown out, seven centuries it's been in the family, Kreacher must save it, Kreacher will not let Master and the blood traitors and the werewolf's brat destroy it-"

"I thought it might be that." Sirius said. "She'll have put another Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of it, I don't doubt, but if I can get rid of it I certainly will. Now go away, Kreacher."

Kreacher went, still muttering as he shuffled out of the room. "-comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he's back, they say he's a murderer too-"

"Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!" Sirius said irritably, slamming the door shut.

"Sirius, he's not right in the head. I don't think he realizes we can hear him." Hermione said in a pleading voice.

"He's been alone too long, taking mad orders from my mother's portrait and talking to himself, but he was always a foul little-"

"If you just set him free, maybe-" Hermione started hopefully and I snorted.

"We can't set him free, he knows too much about the Order. And anyway, the shock would kill him. You suggest to him that he leaves this house, see how he takes it."

"Probably fine." I said scathingly. "He'll just show up knocking at the Malfoys' door and spill all our secrets."

Sirius was walking across the room where the tapestry was plastered against the wall. Everyone followed him over. It was an immensely old piece of fabric; faded and gnawed on. The golden thread, however, glinted brightly to show the family tree it held. The large words at the top of the family tree read: The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black "Toujours Pur"

I snorted, "Always pure?"

Sirius looked at me in amazement. "You know French?"

"A bit." I said.

"You're not on here!" Harry said.

"I used to be there." Sirius said, pointing to a burn mark on the tapestry. "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home- Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under his breath."

"You ran away from home?" Harry asked in interest.

"When I was about sixteen. I'd had enough."

"Where did you go?"

"Your dad's place." Sirius said and his eyes darted to me and back to Harry. "Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dad's during the school holidays, and then when I was seventeen I got a place of my own, my Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold- he's been wiped off here too, that's probably why. Anyways, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcome at Mr. and Mrs. Potter's for Sunday lunch though."

The only grandparents I had was dad's dad. I supposed once Dad married Tonks before my seventh year, Tonks parents would become my grandparents. I wondered if Dad and Tonks would give me a sibling. I certainly hoped so- but I didn't dare see that far- I might've passed out if I'd tried.

"Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal. . . my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them. . . that's him." Sirius said, answering a question I hadn't heard. I looked where he pointed- REGULUS BLACK. He was dead.

"He was younger than me and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded."

"But he died." Harry said.

"Yeah. Stupid idiot- he joined the Death Eaters."

"You're kidding!" Harry exclaimed. I examined the death date. He was only fifteen years old when he died. . .the same age as Harry and I. I gave an involuntary shiver. Maybe there was some truth to what dad was saying. Maybe we were too young for the Order. But still. . .

"Come on, Harry, haven't you seen enough of this house to tell what kind of wizards my family were?" Sirius asked.

"Were- were your parents Death Eaters as well?"

"No, no, but believe, me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the Wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having purebloods in charge. They weren't alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things. . . They got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though. But I bet my parents though Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first."

"Was he killed by an Auror?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Oh no. No, he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely, I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."

"Lunch." Mrs. Weasley's voice said. Everyone except Harry and I left. We were each standing on either side of Sirius.

"I haven't looked at his for years. There's Phineas Nigellus. . . my great-great-grandfather, see? Least popular headmaster Hogwarts ever had. . . and Araminta meliflua. . . cousin of my mother's. . . tried to force through a Ministry Bill to make Muggle-hunting legal. . . and dear Aunt Elladora. . . she started the family tradition of beheading house-elves when they got too old to carry tea trays. . . of course, anytime the family produced someone halfway decent they were disowned. I see Tonks isn't on here. Maybe that's why Kreacher won't take orders from her- he's supposed to do whatever anyone in the family asks him. . ."

"You and Tonks are related?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Oh yeah, her mother, Andromeda, was my favorite cousin. No. Andromeda's not on here either, look-" He pointed to a blasted burn between the names Bellatrix and Narcissa. "Andromeda's sisters are still here because they made lovely, respectable pure-blood marriages, but Andromeda married a Muggle-born, Ted Tonks, so-" Sirius mimed blasting the tapestry with a wand and laughed sourly. I put an arm on his shoulder and he put his arm around me.

"You're related to the Malfoys!" Harry cried out in amazement.

"The pure-blood families are all interrelated." Sirius said. "If you're only going to let your sons and daughters marry purebloods your choice is very limited, there are hardly any of us left. Molly and I are cousins by marriage and Arthur's something like my second cousin once removed. But there's no point looking for them on here- if ever a family was a bunch of blood traitors, it's the Weasleys."

"The Longbottom's should be on here then, shouldn't they?" I asked. I would've leaned forward to look at it more closely but didn't want Sirius' arm to leave my shoulder and contended myself to pushing my glasses up on my nose.

Sirius shrugged, "Could be, but probably not anymore."

Harry was still staring at the picture of Bellatrix Lestrange. "Lestrange?" he asked.

"She's the one who. . ." I looked over my shoulder and then back to Harry and said, "Tortured Neville's parents along with Barty Crouch Jr. and her husband Rodolphus and his brother Rabastan. We talked about the trial a bit in the cave last year."

"Right!" Harry said. "You never said she was your-"

"Does it matter if she's my cousin?" Sirius snapped angrily. "As far as I'm concerned, they're not my family. She's certainly not my family. I haven't seen her since I was your age, unless you count a glimpse of her coming in to Azkaban. D'you think I'm proud of having relatives like her?"

"Sorry. I didn't mean- I was just surprised- that's all." Harry said quickly.

"It doesn't matter, don't apologize." Sirius said, removing his arm from my shoulder and sticking his hands in his pockets. I leaned forward, still searching for the Longbottom's. I wasn't really sure why I was looking for them- I just felt they should be on there. But I guess after Bellatrix tortured them, they'd have been blasted off anyways. "I never thought I'd be stuck in this house again. It's ideal for headquarters, of course. My father put every security measure known to Wizard-kind on it when he lived here. It's Unplottable, so Muggles could never come and call- as if they'd have wanted to- and now Dumbledore's added his protection, you'd be hard to put to find a safer house anywhere. Dumbledore's Secret-Keeper for the Order, you know- nobody can find headquarters unless he tells them personally where it is- that note Moody showed you last night, that was from Dumbledore. . . If my parents could see the use it was being put to now. . . well, my mother's portrait should give you some idea. . ."

"Yeah." I said with a roll of my eyes. "And if you're blind Harry, listening to Kreacher should give you an idea too."

Harry grinned.

"I wouldn't mind if I could just get out occasionally and do something useful. I've asked Dumbledore whether I can escort you to your hearing- as Snuffles, obviously- so I can give you a bit of moral support, what d'you think?"

"Great Idea." I said. "If only Lucius Malfoy wasn't going to be in the hallway and knows what your disguise is."

Sirius glared at me.

I sighed. "Tomorrow's Saturday. I'll see if Dad'll let you come and hang out with Trang and me. It'll get you out a little and we're always in the forest by ourselves anyways cause we're usually flying on our brooms."

Sirius brightened up considerably.

"Don't worry." I said to Harry, who was most definitely worrying about the trial. "I'm nearly positive they're going to clear you, there's definitely something in the International Statue of Secrecy about being allowed to use magic to save your own life."

"But if they do expel me, can I come back here and live with you, Sirius?" Harry asked quietly.

Sirius smiled sadly and I looked down at the ground. "We'll see."

"I'd feel a lot better about the hearing if I knew I didn't have to go back to the Dursleys." Harry pressed on.

"They must be bad if you prefer this place." Sirius said, but didn't answer.

I clapped Harry's shoulder. "Tell you what, if they do expel you, which they won't, you can come live with me. Dad's got a place. And besides," I pulled out a house key Sirius had given me for my 14th birthday. "Sirius still hasn't told me what this goes to but the runes say house."

Sirius smiled and opened his mouth but Mrs. Weasley said, "Hurry up you three, or there won't be any food left."

We all went over and the conversation was dropped. After lunch, cleaning commenced. There were a bunch of lovely things hiding in the piles of dangerous items. There was a snuffbox that bit and Sirius was on the receiving end of it's bite. But Sirius simply tapped his hand with his wand and said, "must be Wartcap powder in there."

There was also a strange silver instrument like a many legged tweezer that scuttled up Harry's arm. When Sirius attempted to smash it with a heavy book, it jumped onto my chest. I yelled out and fell backwards. Sirius threw it across the room and threw the book after it, smashing it. There was a musical box that Fred decided to wound up for some reason and we all stood there, getting more and more tired before Ginny finally closed the lid. I smashed it out of spite. There was a heavy locket we couldn't open, wine glasses that smashed themselves in Hermione's hand, cutting her hands open, and boxes of certificates and medals and other things.

Several times, Kreacher came in to try and take things away, insulting all of us as he did so. Every time he called me a werewolf brat or the werewolf's bitch, my hand instinctively flew towards my wand to curse him and I had to remember that I couldn't do that.

Kreacher actually wrestled with Sirius over a large golden ring and when Sirius managed to get it out of Kreacher's hands, Kreacher burst into ugly sobs and tears.

"It was my fathers." Sirius said, throwing the ring in the sack. "Kreacher wasn't quite as devoted him as to my mother, but I still caught him snogging a pair of my father's old trousers last week."

I giggled and after everyone had left, it was just Sirius and me.

"Sirius?" I asked. "Why do you and dad treat me so differently from Harry?"

Sirius looked at me thoughtfully and then at the wall. It took him a moment to answer and he said, "I suppose because. . . well Remus- he sees you as the little girl that he raised and he can't bear to think about you being hurt. . . on the frontlines of a war. . . when he heard what Crouch Jr did to you last year. . . I don't think I've ever seen him so upset. . ."

"But Harry went through nearly all the same things I went through, and a bit more, and you and dad seem to think he's an adult and I'm a child." I said, trying to keep my voice from sounding like I was complaining. "Is Mrs. Weasley right? Do you see him as James and me as Lily and keeping Lily out of things the way you would have at school?"

Sirius looked at me sharply and rubbed his chin. "No. I suppose. . . I suppose I see you as the little girl too. If anything happened to you. . . I nearly ripped Crouch Jr. . ." he drifted off and then started up again. "Perhaps it's because your father and I feel more protective of you. We aren't the only ones, you know. Kingsley, Mad-Eye, Bill. . . even Snape." he added grudgingly.

"I notice how everyone you named is a male." I pointed out.

Sirius grinned. "Yes, well, you do look awfully like your mother. While your dad and I and Dumbledore don't say anything about your relation to Harry. . . well. . . I think if you had Harry's eyes. . . some might think you were your mum."

"Yes." I mused. "Dad said it was going to get harder to keep denying my relation to Harry but. . . it's not like I want to. . . you know?" I sighed, frustrated and ran my hands through my hair. It was much longer, past my knees now. "I need to apologize to dad when he gets back."

"He's going to be gone for the weekend." Sirius said and I groaned.

"So I won't see Trang tomorrow?" I asked, frowning.

"No" and here, Sirius smiled. "I get to take you."

"Lovely." I said, beaming and I walked out the door for dinner. 

⬅️➡️

[books-are-my-life-stuff]

Xin chào bạn, tôi là một fan hâm mộ của bộ anime Mashle và Finn Ames đến từ Việt Nam. Khi đang tìm hiểu về Mashle thì tôi tìm thấy bạn,và tôi đã bị cuốn hút bởi những bài đăng của bạn. Tôi có thể dịch lại bản dịch tiếng Anh tập 1 và 2 của Mashle Picture Drama sang tiếng việt và đăng lại trên group về Finn Ames trên facebook không? Tôi hứa sẽ liên kết đầy đủ đến trang của bạn và sẽ gửi link bài viết khi tôi đăng lên. Đây là liên kết đến trang của tôi. Cảm ơn bạn rất nhiều, xin lỗi nếu làm phiền đến bạn https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61553639836177

Google-translated message: Hello, I am a fan of the anime series Mashle and Finn Ames from Vietnam. I was researching Mashle when I found you, and I was fascinated by your posts. Can I re-translate the English translation of episodes 1 and 2 of Mashle Picture Drama into Vietnamese and repost it on the Finn Ames group on Facebook? I promise to fully link to your site and will send the article link when I post it. Here is the link to my page. Thank you very much, sorry if I bothered you.

Hello! Sorry, I don't speak Vietnamese at all, so I translated your message with machine translation. Yes, you can re-translate and post the Picture Drama episodes on your fanpage as long as you give credit. It's my friend's translation, but they wish to remain anonymous so you can link it to my blog!

I'm considering on translating the rest of them if nobody has done it, but my Japanese skills are really bad and I don't have a lot of time. Hope this will spark an interest (especially from someone more fluent and better in Japanese than me) in translating the Picture Drama (and maybe the Drama CD as well).

Anyway, thank you very much for your ask! I really appreciate your consideration in asking first before reposting. Hope you have a great day (and wow, nice to see fellow Mashle and Finn Ames fans)!

[vntrip2024]

Day 13 - 19/04/2024

This morning arrived and the dreaded information heavy conference was due. We arrived in our nicest fits and locked in to take notes of everyone’s presentations. Though the presentations were rushed, I was able to have a good idea of the creative cities in Vietnam as well as the contributions these policies have made in facilitating and supporting creatives in this growing industry. Afterwards, we were treated to a nice lunch before heading to a pottery village in Bat Trang. This was the main event of the trip for me because ceramics is something I want to pursue in the future. We were introduced to the Bat Trang Pottery Museum by a witty and charismatic tour guide. The architecture was something I have never seen before. Much like the crazy house from Da Lat, this architecture uses organic shapes to create a structure unlike western buildings. The shape of the museum was built to represent the shape of a basic pot form but scaled up. We were taken through the museum, and I was in awe of the different forms, the age and stories of each ceramic piece, the glazes used, as well as the precision of the glaze application to achieve intricate detailing, as well as the different processes used to achieve different ceramic forms. The upper levels showcased work by Bui Van Tu who developed the art of light sculpture wherein he sculpts clay and driftwood and creates elaborate shadows when the light hits the sculpted piece at a certain angle. After touring, we decided to try making some pieces of our own; I was so ecstatic. We went to the basement and the wheels I expected to be electric throwing wheels were all manual hand spun wheels. I was a bit let down but tried it anyways. It was a disaster. I only managed to create a small uneven teacup.

We left the museum and had an extended tour of the surrounding village. We entered a residential block and the walkways between houses became tighter. This rural setting was very reminiscent of the residential blocks in my province in the Philippines. We viewed more of Bui Van Tu’s work before heading to the ceramic markets and bought some trinkets and gifts before heading to the hotel. For our last night, we unanimously agreed to see the water puppet show, but it was booked out, so we opted to see the train street. Seeing how close the train was to local shops was anxiety inducing. The train passed, and it was time to go home.

This trip was so life changing. Especially being the first overseas trip without my parents, it really was freeing to be able to plan and go on day trips in the country. This trip has not only inspired me to pursue a creative career, but it has inspired me to come back to Vietnam and explore more of the country and learn more about their culture.

[withabackpackandcamera]

August 23rd, 2023

Day 8: Last Day Errands and One Last Family Meet-Up

On our last morning, we tried to visit the Shepard's Bush Market but we arrived too early and they were closed...

After skipping out on the market, we bussed down to Putney to run some last minute errands, like buy a notebook for Cynthia and purchase some confections and goodies from Waitrose to bring back home.

While walking over to Fulham, we ran into our recently-arrived aunt and uncle, Vi's parents, Di Trang and Bac Nhuong, who had just arrived from Georgia to visit her for a couple of weeks. After hanging out at Vi's apartment for a little, we strolled over to Mabelle's Cafe for brunch with the family. The cafe restaurant had a cute interior and a nice outdoor patio area where sat and enjoyed some good brunch that we shared: Egg Mushrooms and Chickpea Shashouka. Because we were running a bit late with brunch, we had to really limit how much we were going to eat because we had another reservation right around the corner.

Trained to Kensington and went bakery hopping in the area for some baked goods to bring home before arriving at Dishoom for our lunch reservation. We definitely weren't hungry by the time we sat down but ordered a ton of food to enjoy and take home anyways. Some yummy Ruby Chicken, a Paneer Roll, Garlic Naan, and rice. And I was given a surprise birthday complimentary dessert, birthday chocolate pudding with chili ice cream. Strange, but I'll take free any day!

Picked up some pastries from Gail's Bakery before taking the train home to clean up, shower, and check out.

Trained to the airport and arrived early enough to enjoy a short break in the Priority Pass Lounge. Lots of snacks, food and drinks there but we were too full to enjoy too much...

What a whirlwind trip to London! It was fun! But jetlag is definitely getting worse and worse as I get older... and all the work I've been doing at the hospital really has weighed on me. Whew, what a tiring trip. But very glad we did it!

5 Things I Learned/Observed Today:

Waitrose is definitely the nicer market of many of the markets we visited, like Lidl, Tesco, and Sainsbury.

Unlike way back when, probably pre-pandemic, you can no longer return your Oyster Card at your final destination (usually at the airport) for a refund of the card's cost. So now, you just lose it. Maybe this is a reason to not do the Oyster Card and just tap your credit card for everything. Lame.

There are two Tube lines to the airport: the Piccadilly Line and the Elizabeth Line.

Virgin Atlantic definitely does not do complimentary upgrades. But they're nice enough to offer a glass of champagne for honeymoon goers on their flight.

The origin of English afternoon tea: In 1840, Anna Russell, the 7th Duchess of Bedford, couldn’t bear the wait until the next meal and was particular hungry and in need of food between lunch and dinner. So she started ordering tea and bread during that time and invited people to join her and made it a social occasion. English afternoon tea time was the result. Essentially, this lady got hangry and made afternoon tea time a thing that we still do today.

[ambivalentmarvel]

so the story behind this is that @sreppub​ arrived in my dms saying “sitcom starring two uppity, former rich guys and a regular poor college kid who follow up an online ad and become roommates” and i said something along the lines of “your MIND” and here we are. she does the art, i do the fic, and we both yell a lot along the way. read it on here or ao3 and enjoy!!

The Sitcom Supreme

If Peter or Stephen were around to hear Tony tell the story of how they all ended up rooming together, they would have plenty of objections, to which he would call them both dirty liars, to which they would gang up on him because they’re terrible and like that, to which he would probably throw up his hands in exasperation and/or make the mistake of engaging them in a debate, to which they would grin like wolves because, once again, they’re terrible and like that, but Tony’s the asshole who put up the Craigslist ad, so he gets to start—because he’s terrible and like that.

It’s a common trait amongst the three of them, what can he say?

The beginning of the story does not involve either of the other two, however. It begins with Rhodey, who is only occasionally terrible and like that. Rhodey has been Tony’s best friend since the tender age of fifteen. Considering Tony at age fifteen was a greasy little douche bag with too much money and a whole bunch of daddy issues that were somehow more obvious then than they are in the present, this is an impressive feat. 

Where things start, Rhodey and Tony are roommates at MIT, which is Howard’s school of choice to shove his problem child onto. Tony is supposed to get a single dorm room, but there’s a cockroach problem in that building. Administration has to get creative, which is how Rhodey, fresh out of boot for the fall semester, gets saddled with approximately one hundred and fifty pounds of neglected teenage boy who has only kind of gone through puberty.

The first words out of Tony’s mouth are blunt: “Any chance you have plans to drop out?”

And Rhodey looks at him with a raised brow, efficiently unpacked and totally unimpressed with the enormous stack of Tony’s things wavering in the doorway. “You have any plans to quit being annoying?” he retorts, which set the tone for their entire relationship.

Tony loves him to pieces. 

He’s the older brother he never knew he needed, yanking him by his collar from frat parties on the weekends and to his house for holidays because getting swamped by Rhodey’s six younger siblings is infinitely better than having to wear a suit and tie for Christmas dinner with six CEOs and maybe some senators, depending on the year. In return, Tony sees him through every finals week of his collegiate career, during which Rhodey gets so nervous he usually pukes at least daily and pulls so many all-nighters Tony memorizes the exact shade of red his eyes are at the end.

So, it’s safe to say they get along well. They get along so well, as a matter of fact, that when they stare at each other after their graduation ceremony for their Masters—a two-year process for both of them, and Rhodey receives two degrees to Tony’s four—surrounded by Rhodey’s family and Jarvis, Tony’s lips curl in a smirk Rhodey knows spells the best kind of trouble. “What do you say we keep the roommate streak alive, yeah? Howard’s building an office in New York, and I’m thinking of doing a doctorate at NYU.”

Rhodey’s brows raise, but he’s grinning, so Tony already knows his answer. “Depends. Are you still gonna’ snore?”

“Are you still gonna’ have a stick up your a—”

Mama Rhodes shoots Tony a look from where she’s trying to corral the rest of her kids.

“—butt?” he finishes with a sheepish glance her way.

Rhodey does not even remotely have a stick up his ass, but of the two of them, he features in tabloids far, far less, which Tony somehow uses to his advantage.

“You know it,” Rhodey replies, and so they find a fancy penthouse that Tony mostly pays for, with the excuse of Rhodey satisfying his part of rent via generally covering Tony’s ass to the best of his ability. And he has a lot of ability, honed from years upon years of Tony self-destructing at the drop of a hat, but there’s only so much he can do, especially as his military career just keeps flying higher and Howard just keeps pushing Tony harder.

A few sex tapes, especially wild benders, and crashed cars later, when Howard cuts Tony off and tells him, quote, “I won’t speak to you until you learn to do something other than disappoint me”, Rhodey very gracefully still shacks up with him in their considerably less fancy apartment.

This is all important to know, contrary to what someone whose name may or may not rhyme with Tephen Trange might say about Tony’s “long-winded” and “overly-complicated” storytelling tendencies because it explains exactly why Rhodey is a traitor.

Is Carol a very cool lady who could kick Tony’s ass? Yes. Is she sickeningly cute with Rhodey and not just because a smile from her makes him melt into a pile of fucking goo on the floor? Also yes. Does it probably make more sense for Tony to find roommates who will actually be around to monitor his—allegedly—poor mental health and self-care habits? Okay, fine, yes, but the bottom line is, Rhodey is moving in with Carol and abandoning Tony, and nobody said he had to like it.

(This is not strictly true, what with the approximately ten conversations Rhodey and he have had about his happiness and how, if Tony needs him, all he has to do is say the word and he’ll be back, but Tony has always had a flair for the dramatic.)

The whole idea is that Tony will find someone gone less than Rhodey with all his military business to enjoy having around the apartment. It’s technically a three-bedroom, but he and Rhodey use the extra one for storage. Fortunately or unfortunately, that storage area has become a lot of junk they go through before Rhodey makes his grand exit, and Tony suddenly has the option of having two roommates.

The ad is a low point, he can admit that, but there is a flaw in what Tony loudly calls Rhodey’s master plan to leave him alone to wallow in misery: Tony doesn’t exactly have a lot of friends, nevermind people who he’d want to live with.

“Rhodey. Honeybear. Platypus.”

“The nicknames are old, and you need to stop using them around Carol. She called me Platypus last night during sex, and it ruined the whole mood.”

“You poor thing.”

“She thought it was hilarious.”

If Tony has to lose Rhodey to anybody, by God, Carol is his first choice by a long shot.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Sourpatch—”

“I hate you.”

“—how am I supposed to find someone else to live with?”

Tony is thirty-two and regularly speaks out with all of four people: Pepper, Rhodey, Carol, and Happy. Unfortunately, Happy works in Stark Industries’ California branch and has stated rather firmly that he’s not interested in transferring to the city, Pepper wouldn’t live with another person for love or money, and the other two are spoken for.

It’s a terrible situation to be in, honestly.

“Craigslist,” Rhodey deadpans, fighting with some packing tape.

Tony feels his heart stop beating in real time from his place folding some of Rhodey’s clothes into a plastic tub. His head snaps up, and his jaw drops, absolutely affronted. “You would suggest that I, even disowned and stripped of my former glory—” Tony has several million dollars in the stock market, but that’s neither here nor there and isn’t much compared to the fact that he was supposed to be a billionaire. “—would stoop to looking for live-in friends on Craigslist?”

Rhodey looks up to meet his eyes, unfazed. He’s used to Tony’s antics after nearly two decades of friendship. “Well, I’m not moving out until you have at least one person guaranteed to take my place, so unless you have any better ideas, yeah.” He shrugs—just shrugs, as if he isn’t advising Tony to scrape the bottom of the fucking barrel in terms of reliable people to regularly fall asleep around.

It’s insulting.

“I’m not putting out an ad for a roommate on Craigslist,” he protests, shoving the next horribly colored polo into the tub with disdain.

That night, he tears up thinking about stopping Rhodey from being happy with Carol, and the post is up by the time Rhodey gets up—stupidly early, like normal—for his morning run. Along with his contact information and a few blurry pictures of the place, it includes a blurb about the circumstances.

Best friend moving out. Need a roommate or I will die of Sadness. His girlfriend is cool but hewas mind first. Carol, I am watching you. Two rooms open for business. But not sketchy business. You can just lve there. Current resident (me) is cool and very charming. I am a man. No dumb fuck offers. Thanks.

It could use some work, but Tony’s never been great with words, even less so when he’s crying to rock ballads at two in the morning. He edits it when he wakes up, and by noon that day, it’s looking better.

At seven o’clock that evening, he receives one of two messages that actually work out.

Enter the first offender: Peter Parker.

Peter, Tony will learn, is nineteen, attending NYU—like Tony did, which is a sign, really—for a double major in biochemistry and physics, and has the worst luck of anyone Tony’s ever met.

Rhodey’s moving out in a week—he’s been putting off finding a roommate for a while, alright—and Peter has to legally be out of his dorm in three days. That is quite the predicament, and Tony, by nature, is a curious creature. He is not, however, one for beating around the bush. That results in a text that reads exactly this.

Tony: What the hell did you do?

He could hack through the university files, but explanations are always more fun with a personal touch that’s lacking in, say, an incident report. Tony watches a bubble with three blinking dots for a long, long time, and the reply is surprisingly sparse—sparse enough, in fact, for Tony to have more questions than answers when he receives it.

Unknown Sender: theres been a few things but the kicker was the fire

Tony: The fire?

Unknown Sender: i tried to make popcorn and the microwave blew up

Now that is some problematic behavior Tony can get behind. He amends the kid’s previously non-existent contact information.

Tony: How can they kick you out for that? That’s not your fault.

Roommate (?) Peter: it blacked out the power on the entire first floor

Tony: And?

Roommate (?) Peter: last month i got the blame for contaminating half the campus water supply

Roommate (?) Peter: so i was already on thin ice

Tony: Accidentally?

Roommate (?) Peter: idk sometimes things just happen to me

Tony doesn’t know how to respond to that. If Rhodey knew, he’d never let him live it down. He can hear his annoying laugh in his ears like a premonition—“Hah—Tony, speechless?”—but then there are the dots again and a simple message to follow the last, a touch pathetic.

Roommate (?) Peter: please let me move in

Tony likes him.

Peter shows up on the stairs of the complex thirty-six hours after Tony posted the ad with a backpack and a meager total of six beat-to-shit boxes. The backpack holds nearly all of his school supplies, which makes Tony, in retrospect, genuinely fearful for the integrity of his spine, and the contents of the boxes are sorted, as Tony will learn, into three categories that each have two boxes in them. The categories are fairly simple—clothing, necessities, and whatever other shit he could fit from his dorm—and leave Peter with thrilling possessions such as an entire collection of truly atrocious shirts with science puns on them, a gallon of hand soap, and any food he had in his cupboards.

Thankfully, Rhodey is out furniture shopping with Carol when Tony goes out to meet him, which solves the problem of Rhodey going into overbearing caretaker mode at the sight of a beanpole of a kid failing to manage their life successfully. As someone who has been made many a you-haven’t-eaten-a-meal-in-two-days-and-I’m-secretly-a-panicking-mother-hen casserole, Tony counts his blessings.

Tony waves. “Peter?” he asks, reluctantly changed out of his pajamas for the day.

The kid nods. “That’s me. And you’re Tony?”

“Guilty as charged. Want a hand with those boxes?” he asks, watching Peter lift three at a time.

“No, I got it,” he insists, and then the box on top slides out of his grip and onto the sidewalk.

Peter stares at it for a second before he lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Maybe I could use some help,” he admits, and with much struggle, the two of them, each with three boxes, waddle inside. There is a moment and only one moment where Tony thinks that it might be nice to have some extra assistance, but with another thought of the things Rhodey would do at the sight of a woefully inept college kid, Tony decides it’s for the best.

Tony leads the operation, considering he has the key and also knows explicitly where they’re going, and he would have to say his biggest complaint about the ordeal is that Sam, who lives in the apartment below Tony and Rhodey with Steve and Bucky, happens to open his door as they walk by.

Being an asshole, he has something to say about it. “Need some help, shellhead?” he crows.

Tony wishes he had a free hand to flip him off.

“Watch your back, Wilson,” he growls in return, a continuation of the beef the five of them have maintained since they met approximately seven years ago, when they all moved in on the same day and kept knocking into each other’s shit in the halls.

When they reach the top of the next flight of stairs and Tony starts to fumble with the key, Peter asks about it. “So—uh—who was that?”

“That was Sam. Part of the deal with moving in is that you harass him and the other two idiots who live with him. He also responds to jackass, douchecanoe, or birdbrain.”

“Birdbrain?”

“It’s an old joke. He had a rather—” Tony grunts, forced to set down his load to unlock the door, “—spectacular run-in with some pigeons a few years ago.”

“Oh.”

“They shat on him. A lot.”

“Oh.”

“It’s a good nickname,” Tony assures him, throwing open the door with his arms flung wide for dramatic flair. “Welcome to Casa Stark. I mean, I guess it’s Casa Stark-Parker now, but if we’re hyphenating, my name goes first because I lived here first.” He holds up a finger as if to stall Peter, who has yet to speak from where his mouth is decidedly blocked by the aforementioned three boxes he is carrying. “And I know what you’re going to say—that Parker-Stark works better because it’s alphabetical—but that is where you are wrong because letters have no place in this house. Numbers are much preferred, and we play by seniority here, anyway.”

He gives Peter a meaningful look that he cannot see because, once again, boxes.

“More on that, by the way—”

“Hey, Tony?” 

He cuts him off which is, objectively, rude, but Tony rarely gets along with people who aren’t a little curt with him from time to time. This is a positive sign, really, so he allows it.

“Yeah?” 

“This can be Casa Stark-Parker, but can we get to somewhere I can set these down? My arms are, like, going to give out on me.”

Not even ten minutes in, and he’s already learned the art of bargaining. Tony’s proud, and he ushers him inside without any more monologues and a grin stretched across his face.

Peter, by virtue of moving in before Rhodey is out, ends up with the room that is no longer being used for storage. Tony has several questions for him, beginning with the fact that, despite the six packets of instant noodles he bothered to bring, he does not appear to have a mattress. Or a desk. Or a dresser. Or anything that’s supposed to go in a room.

His solutions for Tony’s concerns are as follows.

In place of a bed, he has two blankets, one to put on the floor and one to cover himself with. He was planning on sitting on the floor to do schoolwork instead of using a desk. And finally, he was going to leave his clothes in the boxes.

This is all relayed to Tony with an earnest gleam in his eyes and a smile.

Tony blinks in disbelief. Then, very eloquently, he says, “Kid, that is the saddest shit I have ever heard. Aren’t your parents helping you with the move to an apartment?”

The kid shifts from foot to foot, shoving his hands in his pockets and glancing to the side.

Tony’s eyes narrow. As someone who is extremely well-versed in avoidance tactics, he feels very confident in saying that is definitely a fucking avoidance tactic.

“About that,” he begins, “first of all, I’m an orphan.” Jesus Christ. “Second of all, my aunt doesn’t exactly—uh—know I got kicked out of the dorms.”

That is all interesting information, to say the least, but luckily, Tony thrives under pressure.

“Alright. I can respect that.”

It’s not like he never hid anything from his parents. Evading his aunt is Peter’s problem, not Tony’s. None of this is Tony’s problem, really, except then he looks around the room and wonders which of Peter’s boxes are holding his two blankets.

Tony was concerned about Rhodey, but he can’t stop himself.

“But I’m also gonna’ level with you—you’re not sleeping on the ground. You can take the couch.”

The until I get you a proper bed frame and mattress goes unsaid, but sometimes things like that are better as surprises. It’ll be a fun housewarming gift, Tony thinks, and by the time the shipment from IKEA arrives containing both of those things and the aforementioned missing dresser and desk, there will be a third roommate to help put it all together, not that either of them know it yet.

That night, Rhodey and Carol show up with enough ingredients for lasagna to serve four, and Tony delights in showing off Peter as they cook because now he has a “super cool roommate too! Take that, Platypus.”

Rhodey glances to Peter. “If you’re being held hostage, blink twice.”

“Hey!” Tony protests. He is a perfectly lovable roommate, thank you very much, and he’s so offended, he’s not even going to let Rhodey know about his mission to furnish Peter’s room.

God bless her, Carol just laughs.

The four of them get along with surprising ease, considering Peter’s only been around for a few hours. Peter even tries to help with the lasagna, but Tony has a near-photographic memory and has not remotely forgotten the popcorn incident, however vaguely it was described.

“You just sit there and be a nicer person than Rhodey,” he urges him, and Peter nods, hiding his grin behind his hand at the argument that starts.

Once everyone is done, he and Rhodey get suckered into dish duty while Carol spirits Peter off to the living room, claiming she has to warn him about what he’s getting into. Tony doesn’t care enough to complain, and when her back is turned, he splashes a plate of suds onto Rhodey’s front. 

Rather than rise to the bait, however, he raises his brows, slipping into what Tony affectionately calls his big-brother-giving-a-stern-talking-to mode. “You have to be a good example for him, Tones.”

Tony blinks. “I’m sorry, did you just say—”

“I’m serious!” They keep their voices mostly down, but Rhodey’s rises a bit with the declaration.

“He’s nineteen—an adult, in case you forgot. He signed the lease all on his own and everything,” he hisses back incredulously.

He thought he dodged the bullet by not disclosing just how underprepared Peter is to live in an apartment, but Rhodey’s head dips. Tony braces himself for the part of his big-brother-giving-a-stern-talking-to mode where he tells Tony he’s making a bullshit excuse and needs to get it together. “Don’t give me that. He’s a baby adult at best, and you know it.”

Yep, there it is.

“That’s still an adult!”

It is! Tony was on his own way earlier than nineteen. This is not a big deal, no matter how outlandish Peter’s circumstances are for moving out of NYU’s dorms.

“Watch his back.”

Tony scoffs. “It’s not like I was going to feed him to the wolves. I’m barely thirty—I’m not his dad.”

“Tony.”

Ah, the final, crushing blow of this version of Rhodey: his name—but with emphasis.

Tony sighs. “Fine,” he acquiesces. “I solemnly swear I will not let him get up to no good.”

A beat. Rhodey squints at him, slowly lowering the plate he’s holding into the sink. “You told me you refused to read Harry Potter.”

Shit.

Back when the books were first coming out, Rhodey was insufferably obsessed with them, and Tony loves him, but emotionally, he couldn’t handle having Rhodey think he was willing to discuss anything having to do with the series for longer than thirty seconds. Thus, he read the books—everyone in the world was doing the same, okay, and he cannot stand being out of the loop—but lied to Rhodey about it.

And now, he’s been made.

Rhodey and he launch into a very spirited discussion that draws Carol and Peter back to the kitchen, and despite the vein throbbing dangerously in Rhodey’s forehead, the promise has been made.

The day after Rhodey moves out, he and Peter manage to flood the bathroom.

In Tony’s defense, he only promised to look out for Peter. He said nothing about curbing his own dumbass tendencies, and it’s not like Bucky’s bedroom is all that damaged by the leak that Tony fixes before it’s really even a problem.

He and Peter settle into a nice sense of camaraderie, and Tony, content with his situation, forgets to take down his Craiglist ad that, logically speaking, someone would have to dig to find at this point, over a week after initially posting it.

Then, he receives a text that is as simple as it is effective: Is there still an available room in the apartment?

Enter the second offender: Stephen Strange.

Ahem, Doctor Stephen Strange, technically, but Tony has six PhDs. Nobody sees him going around making people call him Doctor Stark, and that’s because it makes him sound pretentious and stuffy, both things Tony prides himself on not being. However, Tony likes to push buttons, and very little gets Stephen worked up as fast as someone ignoring his credentials.

It’s a fun set-up, really, but annoying the piss out of Stephen is something that comes a little later—Tony’s not there yet in the story.

He humors the text, and after getting a read on things, he bursts into the living room, startling Peter nearly off the couch. He’s been doing his homework there and on the coffee table in front of it because the Swedish have many things but fast shipping is, apparently, not one of them, not that Peter knows there’s anything to be waiting on, but he’s getting off-topic.

Peter lets out a short yelp and presses a hand over his heart, both things that Tony ignores.

“We have a situation,” he announces.

“I swear I didn’t do it,” Peter defends pleadingly.

Tony is trying to teach him that messing things up is expected and, especially in particularly magnificent cases, admired in Casa Stark-Parker, but it’s a work in progress.

“I know you didn’t—don’t be ridiculous,” he waves his concerns off. “We are talking bigger than setting things on fire by accident. I bring you, my young protege, the proposition of—” A pause for dramatic effect. “—another roommate.”

“Ooh,” Peter says appropriately, setting his textbook down to examine the texts Tony brandishes. He begins to scroll, but while he does, Tony figures he can go ahead and fill him in on the essentials. It’s a very juicy situation, after all, and he can’t help himself.

“His name is Stephen Strange. He’s a neurosurgeon, but he got into a pretty bad car wreck that messed up his hands. He’s trying to save money while he goes to physical therapy—he apparently has a chance of recovery, but it’s a ways off—and that includes downsizing on where he lives.”

“I mean, yikes, but that’s an oddly specific backstory.”

“I’m glad you think that too, but I am intrigued. I looked him up, and he’s a real person—has a basically flawless reputation, or at least he did before his accident. Thoughts?”

Please say yes, please say yes, Tony thinks. The chance of a competent human—not including Rhodey, who looks more put together than he really is next to the chaos Tony perpetually dwells in—choosing to live with him is too fascinating to pass up, and he needs Peter to see that too.

Peter shrugs. “I’m down if you are. How old is he?”

Victory!

Satisfaction floods Tony, but he tries to maintain his cool.

“Thirty.”

Peter blows out a long breath, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling. “I didn’t anticipate moving into a nursing home,” he remarks dryly.

What a little shit.

It’s worth noting half the reason Rhodey left so easily is because he said he trusted Peter to keep Tony on his toes. Then again, that Tony likes being snarked at is a large part of why they get along so well despite only knowing each other for a matter of days.

“You’re the worst, Parker. I’m going to feed you to the hooligans downstairs. Steve has a monster appetite, you know.”

Peter hums, picking his textbook back up. “Not if I feed you to them first. And, Tony?”

“What?”

“Only old people say hooligans.”

Tony thinks about that one book, Give a Mouse a Cookie or whatever. Except in his case, it’s Rent a Teenager an Apartment, and Tony doesn’t have to adhere to the literary equivalent of a G-rating.

His response to the dig is creative and colorful, and Peter laughs.

Four days and a brief conversation at a coffee shop later—a formality he and Peter did not do and probably something Tony should’ve thought of as the older adult before giving him the address—Stephen’s team of movers invade the apartment.

The man himself stands like a drill sergeant at the last flights of stairs it takes to get to the apartment, arms crossed, beard wild, conducting activity.

Peter and Tony share their evaluations, peeking their head out from the doorway when it’s unoccupied by movers and Stephen isn’t looking their way. This involves quite a bit of ducking, but they are very careful not to be caught.

(Someone’s whose name may or may not rhyme with Tephen Trange later informs that “they were not at all subtle” and “were, in fact, very embarrassing”, but that’s how things with the three of them generally are, so Tony figures it was a good crash course to how life together goes.)

“He’s kind of scraggly,” Peter whispers, his head under Tony’s because he’s the shorter of the two of them, something Tony delights in refuting Peter’s quips about his age with.

“Kind of? He looks like a hobo.”

It’s true, okay? Facially, at least, the guy is a wreck. He’s not quite to Einstein levels of bad hair day, but he’s getting there.

“Be nice,” Peter chastises him. He’s gentler than Rhodey when he does it, but considering neither of them ever shut the hell up and they have thus bonded very easily over the course of their short relationship, it’s gotten to feel as natural as most of their interactions.

“All I’m saying is that I am happy to retain my place as the most attractive person in the apartment, okay?”

They’re forced to retreat from the entryway as another load comes through, and Peter looks at him disbelievingly. “Dream on,” he replies bluntly.

Tony gasps in offense.

Peter shrugs. “Look, I’m just gonna’ say it—you knew Rhodey before me, and now that I’m here—” he trails off, looking at Tony in faux-sympathy that doesn’t match the mischievous glint in his eyes.

While it is true that Rhodey is a fine specimen of a man—yet another reason Tony can’t, in good conscience, be truly angry Carol mooched him away from the bachelor lifestyle—Tony can’t cede that easily for the sake of his pride, and he scowls. “I am going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

They’re still bickering as the movers finish up and Stephen enters the apartment, dressed in what Tony recognizes as the latest from Armani and Tom Ford.

He may not get invited to fashion week anymore, but he still has taste, alright, even if Rhodey limits him to one designer purchase a month.

(Rhodey isn’t around to see what packages he orders now, Tony thinks but shelves the thought for later.)

Tony and Stephen met over coffee, and all three of them said hi to one another before the moving business officially began. However, there is a little stiffness in the air, make no mistake. It’s not Stephen’s fault, exactly, because he’s just kind of a foreboding guy, but still.

It figures that Peter would break the ice. As Tony’s found and will continue to discover, Peter is just as talkative as him. Granted, that trait usually appears in the form of rambling about something from class, but it’s not surprising that his natural passion for life comes through with someone about to be very, very involved in it. 

“Hi!” he begins. “Are all of the movers gone now?”

Stephen raises an unimpressed brow. “Yes.”

His reply is seriously lacking enthusiasm, but Tony isn’t allowed the opportunity to jump on that as Peter keeps going. 

“Sweet! Okay, so welcome to Casa Stark-Parker.”

Woah, woah, woah—timeout.

Tony frowns, raising a hand in a motion for Peter to stop. “I thought that was my thing?” he interjects.

“Well, it has my name in it, so it gets to be both of our things,” Peter replies, then furrows his brow, looking to Stephen. “Actually, since you’re here now, I guess it’s Casa Stark-Parker-Strange. Order’s based on who got here first, sorry,” he explains with a smile that Tony, now familiar with the fact that Peter has more to him than meets the eye, notes is a touch impish.

Tony is pleased to see, despite his generally wholesome appearance, the kid has at least picked up on the power of staking a claim.

Stephen blinks. His hands, Tony has noticed, don’t stop shaking, not even when he folds his arm across his chest, like a physical barrier between him and Peter’s excitement. “Okay?” he drawls slowly, confusedly.

“Tony’s rules, not mine,” Peter assures him as if he doesn’t just want the satisfaction of having his name not be the last in the line-up.

Tony scoffs. “Oh okay, so now we’re throwing me under the bus?”

“You have to take responsibility for your actions, Tony.”

“Oh, sure thing,” he replies, tone betraying that he does not, in fact, think any responsibility is at all necessary. He looks to Stephen, rolling his eyes. “Can you believe what I have to put up with? And it’s barely been a week.”

Stephen blinks again. “I see it’s a lot,” he says measuredly.

Peter gasps, unaffected. “Oh my God, we should make a sign for it,” he enthuses. “We can put it up on the door, and we’d be so much cooler than Sam and them.”

To say that Peter rose to the challenge of bothering their downstairs neighbors with zeal is something of an understatement. 

Tony is, honestly, a fan of the sign idea, especially if it were to light up, but that is where Stephen cuts in, his hands still trembling as he gestures. “Can we slow down for a moment?” He looks carefully from Tony and Peter and back again, bearing the appearance of a man in the throes of realizing he has made a bad decision. 

Tony knows that look well. It usually shows up when Rhodey agrees to one of Tony’s ideas and doesn’t realize just how badly constructed it is until it’s too late.

“First of all, I am fairly certain my car is parked illegally, and before we get too far, I need to fix it before I get towed. And secondly,” Tony watches Stephen’s lips curl in a self-satisfied, I-totally-think-I’m-better-than-you-even-if-I’m-not-technically-saying-it smile, “I am not here to be part of any Casa. I am waiting for physical therapy to work for me, and then I will be out of your hair. I appreciate being able to live here, but—”

Yeah, Tony’s had enough of that. Personally, he would like to thank Rhodey, who, in a way, begins and ends the story, and truly is the greatest best friend a man could have for teaching him how to properly deal with pompous rich people.

“Nuh-uh, none of that. If you’re living here, you’re a part of Casa Stark-Parker-Strange whether you like it or not.”

Stephen looks downright appalled that someone would dare to interrupt him, which, Tony knows from experience, is exactly the kind of shock rich people need to go through. He splutters for a second before he manages to get out a reply, “That was not in the lease.”

Tony spreads his hands as if to say what can you do? “And you didn’t mention in your texts that you were going to try to be a bump on a log, but here we are.”

Perhaps sensing the mounting animosity in the room or maybe just as excited as Tony to have someone to bother, Peter takes advantage of Stephen’s overwhelmed and bewildered state.

“First day with all three of us!” he shouts. “Picture!”

And before anyone can protest—including Tony, who would prefer to be documented in something other than a Black Sabbath tee and his work pants—Peter leans in with the camera on his phone ready to capture the moment.

In the resulting photo, Tony looks vaguely alarmed, Stephen looks pissed as hell, and Peter wears a grin that stretches across his whole face. The whole thing is blurry, and they eventually get it framed.

It’s a beautiful and fitting start to their time as roommates, and in the humble eyes of the asshole who posted the Craigslist ad, that is how the story of how they came to live together went.

[magicflowershop]

one day kitty; Atsumu version

《inspired by movie A Whisker Away》

✿✿ you wished to be with the person you like and wish granted. whiskers, button nose, tail, four legs and ears on top of the head; you turned into a cat. with this, you are given the opportunity to be with the person you want to express your affections to. but as a cat. and only in one day.

― haikyuu characters x cat!reader imagines!

❀ masterlist ❀

the wheel of names have spoken.

you know you hated your housecat the second you laid eyes on it when your mum took it home one day from the shelter, saying it was an abandoned cat

abandoned cat your ass 

that cat stole your body and turned you into a cat

she stole your human identity 

like, girl, wha- the auDACITY for her to have you wake up on her stinky litterbox while she’s havin the time of her life talking to your parents as if you were in that body the entire time

and the audacity of her to go to school and attend your classes, talk to your friends while you’re over there lurking in the shadows, glaring lasers at her from a tree branch

and the absolute audacityyy of her to obviously ogle over a guy from your class when you weren’t even interested in him to begin with

THE NERVE OF IT TO BE ATSUMU MIYA OF ALL PEOPLE

REALLY

why 

why him when he has so many fans and the fact that he’s perpetually ANNOYED by his fans like c’mon????????????????????

IN YOU’RE BODY AT THAT

now you’re just extra helpless bc there’s nothing you can do, you have no idea when you’ll get back to your original body, or if you’re able to get back to your original body at all :O

you also dunno who she made a deal with to get to this point in your lives

all you know is that you had a bad dream that morning, and saw a strange cat sayin you had one day

like what the hell is that supposed to mean

“hey what’re ya doin there?”

o wouldya look at that, a wild Miya twins appeared

you didnt notice that you were taking your sweet time contemplating abt life on that tree that three periods have passed and its now lunch break

the twins happened to see you while they were hanging out outside

so you was just staring at them,,, you had no idea what to do while they were there,,,, but it seemed like they were thinkin of saving you even though you’re not in trouble :v

so you was just starin at them

and they were starin back at you

then they left

LMAO

you were gonna brush this lil interaction off until you arrived,,, i mean your body,,,, i mean your housecat in your body 

then you got incredibly annoyed cause she was doin so hard so hard to get their attention when she ady got it, and Atsumu was as annoyed as you are sksskkd Osamu didn’t care at all so moving on

and now you got even mroe annoyed cause she was ruining your image in front of your classmates like srsly

so you dipped and decided this is all a fever dream and everything will get better tomorrow with you back in your body and with a good reputation in school as if nothing horrible happened, yes? yes :)

“there ya are”

until Atsumu picked you up from the ground while you were stealthily making your great escape,, then he started acting like he was lookin for you outta nowhere

and Osamu was lookin at him like he was insane sjksd but he figured this is a plan of Atsumu’s so he decided to play along and told your housecat (that was the host of your body) to excuse them bc they had a cat to take care of and that its vvvv urgent 

now kitty you is officially adopted by the Miya twins <3

and you didn’t like it one bit HAHAJSJ

you figure this wasnt such a bad thing and you werent allergic to these boys nyway so you let things happen, and let Atsumu scratch the top of your head while they were discussing things about you

:O

they werent talking mad things abt u nonono, they were talkin abt how strange you were acting when you’re literally one of the chill students in school,,, it was as if you were under a spell and suddenly you were in love with them lmao

Osamu proceeds to add the suspicion with the fact that he saw “you” staring at Atsumu during class like someone so lovestruck 

both you and Atsumu got goosebumps couple of the year amirite

so Osamu told him that this could just be a one-time thing (like strange conclusion but go off) and/or that you might’ve just confused him as your first crush lmao Osamu was just confusing himself but he was tryin his best to come up with explanations to ur behavior

so classes begin again,,, now Atsumu still dunno what to do with u ogling at him WHILE THE REAL YOU WAS A CAT WATCHING EVERYTHING FROM A TREE 

you was def ready to throw hands,, but thats a cat and ur against animal cruelty,,,,,,, tho its ur body anyway so whats the diff

meanwhile u coming up with a plan to end your housecat, Atsumu found you sitting on a tree and he was so shocked for his life bc last time he check he put you in a box with kitty snax, inside the gyms storage room, how in the world did you manage to get out from there??

the fake you sees you again while Atsumu was lookin at you from the window, and was enraged bc you’re taking the attention from her... hm

so you decided to face your stupid housecat head-on and get to the bottom of this bs and be grownups tgt bc no way are you just gonna donate your human life to an ungrateful animal

you look for the fake you at the back of the school, and now the Giorno theme is playing in the background sksk

“give me my body back”

“o pls can’t you just give me a one day chance?“

the audacity

“you ady stole it from me and you say this now?”

your housecat was smug enuff to tell you that she had the honors of asking a favor from a spirit cat who was the reason of all this,,, and who has also taken a liking to your human soul

your housecat just sold your human soul to a spirit cat 

so you just flew in the air to scratch your human face, you didn’t care anymore, its your body, whatever, the one experiencing the pain aint u anyway but your bitchy housecat that your mum seemed to have a deeper connection with than her own child

nyway that didn’t last long cause fake you was screaming help, other students found you two, and they got a hold of you while you were in your feral state and now you were terrified of possibly getting into the animal shelter fr,,,, fake you smirked at this possibility

until sum of ur school’s vball bois saw the commotion too and what do u know, Atsumu says that the cat is his and that he apologizes to the ruckus that the cat has done 

then it was your turn to smirk at fake you

so u spend time with Atsumu again for some odd reason that keeps the two of you tgt sweat drops looks away,,, you wonder why your mum’s cat is so attached and/or attracted to Atsumu like this???

you never remember them interacting at all since the very time you see them in the same scene is when you went to have your mum’s cat checked up in the vet and Atsumu was there with their dog too

whats happening

fast forward to dismissal, you’re quite thankful you werent in trouble, same as Atsumu since he managed to tell the other students to not tell anything to the teacher that he has a cat in school kdjsk sum rotten power he holds

but you decided to ditch him again and look for fake you

you found her talking to the spirit cat that she said,, so naturally you demanded said spirit cat to give your body back to you

the spirit cat smiled wider and says that, you haven’t finished your task yet if you want to get back to your original body, you have to wait till midnight

like what in the hell was that supposed to mean, you understood nOTHING

then your housecat goes and says “maybe i should extend my stay in this body, what do you think?”

SIS YOU WENT FERAL there is no way she’s staying in your body while you are sufferin like this, in which you do not deserve. watching your housecat ruin your life like its normal like cmon

“then if you’re gonna stay in my damn body then do it properly! don’t make me look like im a flirt!”

“i was never flirting with anyone!” 

“wdym?! you were staring at my classmate the entire time!”

“what was i supposed to do when its what your body felt like doing?!?!?”

...

w hAt

“what’cha screamin at the cat for, y/n?”

ATSUMU JUST ENTERED THE SCENE AS IF HE WAS INVITED AND PICKED THE CAT UP TRYING TO PROTECT IT AS IF WHAT HE WAS DOING WAS SO HELPFUL

“i’m not y/n”

NOW YOUR HOUSECAT JUST ADDED MORE GAS IN THE FLAME

“i’m y/n’s pet cat, that cat is y/n we switched bodies bc y/n has been neglected by her parents ever since i was taken for adoption... y/n has a crush on you so i just reacted the way her body wanted to react around you so i’m sorry i made you uncomfortable”

you couldn’t take the embarrassment anymore and jumped from Tsumu’s hands and ran your way to your house as fast as you can

you thought abt how stupid that was and how stupid you looked in front of him,, like pointing at a cat saying that thats the real you like who in the heaven’s name would believe bs like that

you were beyond embarrassed that you just want to sink into the ground and just disappear from life rn and never see Atsumu again,,, anyone is fine but Atsumu pls for the love of god

“well ofc its a narrower place”

didn’t you say anyone but Atsumu is fine pls for the love of god

“get outta there, i got yer mask”

he placed a mask beside you, so you chomped on that mask and pulled it out of the bush with you,, you see him there crouching down to your smol height, watching you in concern

you try to take off your mask yourself but it isnt working, you try to push your head to make your actual mask stick to your head but it isn’t working. nothing is working so you started crying in meow

now tsumu is just confused there and asked if he can comfort you,,, you glared at him like he was stupid 

“yer still a girl yknow, i gotta ask for consent”

how sweet 🥺

he started talking abt how he and ur housecat tried to talk it out with the creepy cat to get ur normal life back bc apparently you never wished for a deal with him even tho u desperately hated ur life at home, all in all spirit cat is a big ass scam, while he was unknowingly scratching the top of your head again but moving on

also that your housecat wanted to apologize to you bc she didnt want to take your life away from u, and that she never meant to hurt your feelings while running his hand down to your back and forgetting that you aren’t a real cat but again moving on

“is, is it true tho?”

?

“ya like me?”

dumass rly asked that while ur a cat lol 

“it’s a meow for me”

smoke escaped your nostrils like a bull, the stupid spirit cat was playin games withcha since he ady got exposed for his scams >:O

“ya just spoke”

you left Atsumu there with the mask between your teeths, dragging yourself back home, expecting to probably go back to normal once you wake up,,, but you have your mask back now hm

“don’tcha want sum help?”

k ykno he’s annoying when he wants to be but he literally had no reason to be annoying know i mean pls

“sure i like u it doesn’t m-”

you’re back to normal

“matter”

but wearing what you wore when you went to bed last night, in pajamas with no footwear, on the cold asphalt ground, blushing like a fool out of even more embarrassment, cursing at the spirit cat sum more from the back of your mind

that cat had no right to play match-maker after all that, even if he knew that Atsumu will naturally bring you hope since its night and give you a piggy-back ride since you had no slip-ons, asking for consent as well mind you

no right at all

stay tuned for more!

[elenasadventures]

Cat Ba Island: Cát Bà National Park, Trung Trang Cave, and Hospital Cave

(Lachlan) Cat Ba Island feels distinctly untamed compared to the Vietnam we had seen up to that point. Wild overgrowth covers jagged hills framed by the sea. Cat Ba town is a tourist pop up. Tall slivers of hostels pepper the shore, and bright bars compete for foot traffic on the bay. Though don’t imagine picturesque blue skies and sandy beaches, instead its misty and cool. The tops of the peaks shrouded in mist. The Hospital Cave

Our first day on the island we decided to take a hiking tour into the National Park. The tour guide, Phuoc, was professional and interesting. First we went to see the Hospital Cave, where Vietnamese fighters were tended to underground to avoid American air strikes. It was a massive bunker built into a naturally forming cave in a mountain. It was very impressive and took over four years to build. The concrete corridor went on for room after room, with bedrooms, surgeries, munitions storage, and kitchens. There was even a rooftop terrace of sorts, where one could stand on the top of the bunker to see the naturally formed cave tower above it. We were told that here, and other sections of the naturally occurring cave complex, soldiers trained and practiced. Some amazing photos of time in the bunkers lined the halls.

The size and time to build the bunker really showed me that Vietnam needed to invest for the long haul. The community relied on this bunker for protection, and the undoubtedly large amount of resources needed to create the bunker were indeed well spent.

The Park

The national park had almost tropical forest, thick with ferns and vines. We walked through a village, built by the government in the 1990’s, that had fallen into disrepair. The skeleton of the town, surrounded by undergrowth already reclaiming the land, as well as the mists, made it feel distinctly post-apocalyptic.

As we climbed higher, the view was beautiful. The forest was lush. Though as we got to the peak of the hill, we found ourselves shrouded by the cold mist. This made for an anti-climactic peak, but we were satisfied anyway.

Trung Trang Cave

On our way back to Cat Ba Town, we went to see a huge natural cave complex. The trail ducked and weaved through a mountain with stooping tunnels, towering stalactites, and natural sculptures of warped rock. It was hot, which didn’t help with the claustrophobia. It was amazing, but we ended up speeding to the end. We were grateful for cool air and light.

[jobamakes]

[Project Story] Brazilian Mosaic Wall

What is it? A 25m long mosaic tile wall celebrating Brazil When: 2020 Where: Hanoi University Roll: Designer What I Did: A vector drawing representing Brazil’s culture With: Ba Trang Ceramic village

Vietnam was full of creative adventures in those corona virus free years, and alongside the video projects at Phoq TV, I kept working as an architect and designer at the swiss studio Multiply, and sometimes as a freelancer.

I was very lucky to meet Fabiana on the very first days of this new life abroad, and since we were both from Brazil (it’s still very hard for me to write it with a Z instead of a S haha) we bonded immediately - there’s less brazilians in Vietnam than athletes in a curling team.

In the first months of our friendship, we threw a lot of memorable parties on her amazing rooftop (broke a window in one of them), travelled around Vietnam (and received weird massages of a buffalo farmer) and did all we had to do as first time friends in a strange place.

Months started to pass, so did that energy. But we kept the friendship on and would see each other monthly.

She worked at the Brazil Embassy and at some point they came up with the wall idea. Hanoi is known for having the biggest mosaic mural on earth and Vietnam has a very old ceramic artistry tradition. Luckily, one of the most traditional ceramic villages is Ba Trang, set at 20km from Hanoi.

The embassy ran a competition for the design of the wall and Fabiana quickly tiped me. I was lucky enough to win it! - I have to admit it wasn’t that hard because, as said before, there isn’t a lot of Brazilians in Vietnam, even less brazilian designers haha.

Anyways, I divided the design in 5 themes of 5m each (the wall was 25m long and 1.65m high): Culture / Biodiversity / Urban / People / Flag.

I used a vector style artwork, a ‘young’ design language, since the chosen wall was inside a University, and kept the original flag colors as the main colors, but a little bit more neon. Finally, it’s he Rio de Janeiro beach sidewalk wavy design that pierces throughout the 25m long and changes from one theme to another.

It was a wonderful experience, specially the few times we went to follow the making process in Ba Trang (I never saw such huge ovens in my life) and getting to know that the ambassador is a really funny person.

Me, embassador, Fabiana and Juliana

I still don’t know how they managed to make that ceramic wall only with a non scaled .JPG of my artwork. Vietnamese way of making things is a big mystery.

Fotos by Ania. Damn trees.

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[braveclementine]

Chapter 27

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (Please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

𝕬𝖓 𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖗𝖊 𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙 of land had been cleared by the Ministry of Magic (ie Kingsley) for the burial of the Fallen Fifty. Yes, even though I had saved Dad, Tonks, Severus, and Lavenders' lives, it seemed fate found a way to replace those four lives with those of the Slytherins who had fought alongside us. 

The cemetery was beautiful, hidden just outside of the city, where the sunlight barely managed to filter through the dense canopy of trees. It was unlike any other I had ever seen, as if nature had been given free rein to create a masterpiece of her own. The air was heavy with the scent of countless flowers that seemed to bloom in defiance of the season, their vibrant colours painting the landscape in hues of red, green, yellow, and blue.

 The grass was lush and green, dotted with fresh tombstones of marble that would tell the stories of the brave men and women who had fought in battle. Birdsong filled the air, competing with the soft rustling of leaves as they danced in the gentle breeze.

There were wooden chairs that had been set up in front of the podium where the small man who had spoke at Dumbledore's funeral would be speaking. They were filling up as I stood on the small stage that Lee and I had set up beforehand, overlooking the crowd. 

The Weasleys were the ones I laid eyes upon first, their heads of red hair bright in the sun. When George looked up at us, I swept my eyes over the rest of the crowd, unable to look him in the face. 

Severus was in the very back with Dad, Tonks, Trang, and Andromeda. They were sitting with Remus, Minerva, Elijah Kingsley, and Teddy so that if they started to cry, they would be able to run with them so they didn't disturb the funeral. 

More chairs were added as more people showed up. There was, of course, the survivors of the Battle of Hogwarts, but also family members and friends who hadn't been there. My heart clenched when I saw Dennis Creevy sitting with a tall father who resembled Colin greatly. Both of them were crying silently, but proudly. 

I should've saved Colin too. Somehow. 

"Are you ready?" Lee asked me quietly. 

I turned slightly to look at him. We had been practicing this for the past week to make sure it was perfect for today. I had known Lee enjoyed singing and even had some band friends whose names were Luke, Ryan, and Aaron. Together we had formed our own sort of band, at least for now. 

They thought I had created the entire song, which I had taken out of my memories and put in a pensive to see if they could recreate it. They had been very successful and the song was perfect the last couple of days we had practiced. 

It wasn't, of course, my own. Rather a song that I had used to listen to when I had been int he other world. One I had listened to because it was a 'fan' song for the Wizarding World. One to portray how much the death of the characters meant to them, even though they 'weren't real'. Regardless, I would now take this song from Dr. Gates' world, and bring it alive in mine. 

I fidgeted with my dress slightly, tugging it lower slightly so that it was at knee length instead of above. "Yeah, I think so anyways. It's just. . . I think my main problem will be trying not to cry." 

Lee nodded, looking out at the crowd as the funeral director stepped up onto the platform. "That will be hardest part." 

We sat down in our chairs on the stage, but I couldn't listen to a single word the man said. All I could do was look at all the faces, shining and red with tears, and think about all of the ways I could have saved their loved ones. . . if I hadn't been so selfish to save my own. 

I could've told others, could've told everyone. Or I could've passed liquid luck out to everyone. I should have come up with a better plan. 

But I had been so scared to change the future by an inch, so scared it would prevent me from saving my family. 

I wondered if it was worth it. 

Lee gently touched my hand, making me realize that the band was setting up. I got to my feet slowly, approaching the microphone. I would be singing nearly the entire song though Lee would be helping with the chorus and the other three would join in for vocalizing. 

The coffins were brand new with a design that was modern and sleek. Its lines were clean and uncluttered, its curves soft and inviting. It was made from a sustainable blend of oak wood and metal, a testament to the changing times. A small bronze plaque on the coffin's lids bore the name of the deceased, along with the years of their birth and death.

On a nearby table next to the stage, there was a small surprise that I had set up. I just hoped I was able to sing and concentrate on the magic at the same way. 

I took a deep breath and started to sing. 

 "I'm tired and thin Haven't slept since the war I'm a mess of wounded skin Like a wine sack that's been torn

In the sacred space Behind the lids of my eyes Mad-Eye darkly holds my gaze And I can still see Frederick's laughing face." 

At this point, I let my wand point to the table, letting the two lanterns float up into the slowly darkening sky. I had asked to do this near nighttime so that they would show up better. The lanterns lit up, showing the pictures that accompanied them. . . Uncle Moody who was looking at everyone, and Fred who was laughing. 

After that, the lanterns kept coming, even as I continued to sing. Colin and Professor Vector and Professor Burbage and the Fallen Fifty. 

"It's not enough,  To say that time Can mend my wings That one day I'll fly"

Lee sang along with me as the photos continued to float up and coffins were lowered down into the soft ground. If anyone had stopped crying, they were sobbing now, seeing the faces of their loved ones. 

"And it's not enough  This acheless scar Some wounds are still burning Let me live as one earning his life" 

Lee: And we all fall down And we all fall down 

Me: Behind the lids of my eyes I can still see Frederick's laughing face

Lee: Far away

Me: And I can still see Fredericks' laughing face. 

Now I sang the line and Lee sang the echo. 

It's not enough (not enough)  To say that time (say that time)

Something surprising was happening. . . the crowd was joining in with Lee. I felt my heart soar, especially as the lanterns were now portraying different faces: The faces of Dumbledore and Sirius and Cedric and the faces of the people who had died to Voldemort before he had really taken control. 

Can mend my wings (mend my wings) That one day I'll fly (one day I'll fly) It's not enough (not enough) This acheless scar (acheless scar) Some wounds are still burning (wounds are still burning) Let me live as one earning his life (earning his life)

Lee: Darkest nights turn into dawns Golden lights are chords for songs of love Something death cannot erase

The rest of the song was instrumental as the last four photos showed up: Lily and James Potter, and Frank and Alice Longbottom, a tribute to both of our sets of parents for giving up their different sacrifices so that their children could end the Dark Lord they had so valiantly fought against. 

Lee sang the very last part, which was just a very simple: Far away~

The lanterns went out , the pictures dissolving into golden dust. The coffins finished settling into their already made holes, wands waving gently through the air to cover them with freshly dug up dirt. The headstones glowed brightly in the moonlight and slowly the people moved to visit the graves. 

I sighed, turning away from the crowd. Lee was still staring out at the crowd, but he looked down at me now. "Luna is right you know." 

"Oh?" I asked softly. 

Lee nodded, pulling me into a hug, "We're going to see them again someday." 

"Yes." I whispered, thinking of the stone that Harry had dropped in the forest. They were still out there, still existed, and I would see them all in death. "Yes we will." 

⬅️➡️

[krey-9-jorce]

thank you @brokenfannibal​ it’s a long one!!! x”””DDD

Last

1. Drink - Houjicha latte

2. Phone call - My mom borrow to call (tell me to call and pass to her)

3. Text message - my sis

4. Song you listened to - From Green Day’s Dos album

5. Time you cried - don’t remember

Ever

6. Dated someone twice - no

7. Kissed someone and regretted it - no

8. Been cheated on - yes

9. Lost someone special - yes, very

10. Been depressed - yes, but that’s from like 3 years ago?

11. Gotten drunk and threw up - no

Fave colors

12. rainbow

13.  or pretty shades of grey

14. I mean I basically like every color

In the last year have you…

15. Made new friends - yes

16. Fallen out of love - not last year, before that

17. Laughed until you cried -  yes, and choke on water

18. Found out someone was talking about you - i don’t know

19. Met someone who changed you - no

20. Found out who your friends are - no

21. Kissed someone on your Facebook friends list - well I kiss my friends and my sis

General

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know irl - probs 20???

23. Do you have any pets - no, I want a dog

24. Do you want to change your name - (elven-like??is that “Kerit” (,,,,@u@)”””” No i don’t want to change my name, it’s rare, but I do want to adopt new names if i can go to another country someday

25. What did you do for your last birthday - don’t remember. but I had a lot of wishes on Twitter x”””D thank you guys

26. What time did you wake up today - today I had exam early, i woke up at around 6AM

27. What were you doing @ midnight last night - looking at my notes for today exam, and fucking around on my phone

28. What is something you can’t wait for - i don’t get the question. probably when I need to use the toilet but someone’s in there, gotta run for another toilet.

30. What are you listening to right now - none

31. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom - no

32. Something that gets on my nerves - idk

33. Most visited website - google image, youtube, ao3

34. Hair color - black

35. Hair long or short - ideally very short but rn I haven’t cut my hair so it’s like a bob over touching the base of my neck and shoulders

36. Do you have a crush on someone - no, I don’t do things like secret crushing, getting all giddy about someone but don’t let them know. If I like someone, I’ll make sure they know.

37. What do you like about yourself - pretty calm and chill,choose to trust rather than to doubt

38. Want any piercings - no

39. Blood type - A+

40. Nicknames - Nhí, Krey, Keith, Qu

41. Relationship status - single but not available

42. Zodiac - Taurus 

43. Pronouns - anything is fine, tho I identify the most with She

44. Fave TV shows - Hannibal, Mary kills people, Yuyuhakusho, Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood

45. Tattoos - none yet (Ye me too x”””DD))

46. Right or left handed - right

47. Ever had surgery - (glad you received treatment!! sounds like dangerous accidents) No

48. piercings - none

49. Sports I dont watch sport and I dont do sport (same) (but if I do I’d prefer Martial arts)

50. Vacations - want to but rarely, never been out of the country

51. Trainers - Nike Air Max, but I wear sandals anyway.

More general

52. Eating - YES. except spicy food

53. Drinking - water, iced tea everyday, and a lot of milk tea (bubble tea)

54. I’m about to - draw, but then my dad threw me stuffs to translate

55. Waiting - to be matched with a partner for Halloween fic exchange (Hannibal, hannibal extended universe) 

56. Want - to have proper drawing training, and graphic design

57. Get married - Yeh, if there is a person. Not younger than 30, to me 32 is the most ideal to get married. If no one to marry, that’s fine

58. Career - who knows. I want to draw but I’m on my last year of college getting my International Business Bachelor’s degree and have my dad who wants me to step into translating jobs.

Which is better

59. Hugs or kisses - BOTH. I’m a very touchy and smoochy person and I have to refrain myself

60. Lips or eyes - BOTH

61. Shorter or taller - taller is better tbh but short is fine

62. Older or younger - older is better

63. Nice stomach or stomach - (yo I legit have a chubby stomach) anything, all stomach are huggable

64. Hookup or relationship - I don’t get this question. Every relationship needs connecting

65. Troublemaker or hesitant - hesitant

Have you ever

66. Kissed a stranger - blow a kiss but no contact

67. Drank hard liquor - no

68. Lost glasses - probably yes

69. Turned someone down - yes

70. Sex on first date - no

71. Broken someone’s heart - yes

72. Had your heart broken - yes

73. Been arrested - no

74. Cried when someone died - not actually

75. Fallen for a friend - yes, it’s complicated

Do you believe in

76. Yourself - yes

77. Miracles - yes, for the lottery

78. Love at first sight - no

79. Santa Claus - no

80. Kiss on first date - yes, I’ll be kissing

81. Angels - nope (I´m an atheist) <= hi five mate

Other

82. Best friend’s name - irl it’s my sis and some friends, their names are Thư, Trang, My, Uyên

Online I interact the most with, pardon me for not tagging anyone, I list their usernames only: you, of course, jollyjet, psychoheu, avidreadr2004, vulcanplomeeksoup, tirlaeyn, active-imagination, hunter-and-star-chaser 

83. Eye color - black. so black

84. Fave movie - Gone girl, The Fall

85. Favorite actor Hugh Dancy, Mads Mikkelsen, Caroline Dhavernas, Alicia Vikander

(as usual I don’t tag anyone, but feel free to tag me if you do this)

[kawsofhobi]

if bts members were your mutuals who will they be?

MY DESCRIPTIONS ARE TERRIBLE BECAUSE I CAN’T GIVE PROPER DESCRIPTIONS WITHOUT BEING REPETITIVE SO I’M SORRY Y’ALL BUT ANYWAYS THIS IS WHO Y’ALL REMIND ME OF💞💞💞

Seokjin- @bbyjin​ Queen Seanna. I feel like I don’t even need to explain. Cheesy jokes and copious amounts of love to give everyone

Yoongi- @goldenkinghoseok​ Little tsunderes right there. I can’t tell you how shockingly similar Lou Lou and Yoongi are. The perfect balance of sweet and sarcastic. They’re both short and cute as well

Hoseok- @sunkissedmin​ A BALL OF SUNSHINE AND EXCITEMENT!!! I swear to you, talk to Vita once and your day will be 10x brighter and happier. A hyper cutie who knows how to make anyone smile with the simplest of ways.

Namjoon- @xbaepsae the aesthetic queen who looks like a model Gabby’s super intelligent and a very personable person, very uplifting, and caring.

Jimin- @blumiin​ Miss Janine is a close friend of mine so I can say this very easily. Cute, sweet, and lowkey evil just like her bias.

Taehyung- @tvehyungs-gf​ *heavy breathing* my otp Queen Trang has some high class fashion sense, she’s also super funny and a sweetheart.

Jungkook- @taekookiesandcream two cute little shy buns that are just here for a good time and want to make sure that everyone else is happy as well

[imrosiekim]

Viết tặng Nhã Trang, Vĩnh Phúc ngày 24 tháng 2 năm 2021.

"Nha Trang đẹp!"

- Nhã Trang cũng vậy.

Có một cô bé đáng yêu tên là Nhã Trang được sinh ra ở vùng biển Nha Trang xinh đẹp như thế đấy!

Sincerely, I have never met such an intelligent, kind and cute girl like you since I started tutoring English for students. When I met you for the first time, your little shyness and silence reminded me of myself at your age. However, I was not as talented as you those years.

That you never asked me any questions and just gave me few responses is the very early impression I had on you. Like other people starting to do a new thing, you showed those signs and so did I (few years ago), but it was and it is your spirit that counts.

Girl, I guess I told you thousand times about how I am so lucky to meet you and proud of your efforts. I wish I had been like you when I was in middle school, because my teacher would have been extremely supportive of. And now, I am having those feelings.

We are also friends, on the other hand. You cannot imagine my real emotions when you began to open up yourself a little. I thought I received something that is pure and honest from you. Those things made my day, cheered up me when I suddenly broke down. Anyway, I have never let my emotions affect you and our lessons. I want you to know that sometimes your words and even only your face help me feel better. I love kids.

You are a talented girl, Nha Trang. Piano, Karate, Art, English,etc. I did wonder a few times how a little girl could handle those skills and even perform so amazing. I did show off your paintings with my friends, and they told me your works were pretty. Keep doing that, Nha Trang.

By the way, I apologize you for many times that I had to switch the schedule and was late for classes. (For fun) you have good patience! Anyway, I will try to perform better to make up for those days.

Thank you for you, for everything you did and will do in the future.

I cannot say for certain that I am able to help you achieve great accomplishments in English, but I am a person who can help you dig deeper your hidden abilities and can be a friend who always be here for you to share.

Trust me, your future will be so beautiful!

Kim Liên

[call-me-jennn]

best wishes.

I haven’t written a latelys in a while, and I don’t know about anyone else but I am quite sick of listening to myself rant on about all my deepest thoughts. But disclaimer, probably will end up doing that anyways.

Mama Bear, in her infinite wisdom, has always pressed upon me the importance of taking care of my skin. She did fail to teach me any methods as to actually taking care of it, so pretty much the only things that stuck were that tomatoes are good for your skin and don’t pick at your face. Problem is, I don’t like tomatoes. And I’m pretty addicted to picking at my face. As I’ve been improving at self-care, I’ve been better at knowing when I can use an extractor tool to clear out those pesky clogged pores. But last week I was no good, and I blew up a pimple pretty badly, aahhhh. Really really lucky for me that masks are required. This is kind of weird to admit, but sometimes I kinda like it when I be looking unattractive. I’ve said this a million times, I think I’m pretty okay. As much as I like the days when I feel super cute for the confidence boost, I respect the occasional break out to put me in my place. You can hide a lot of imperfections with make up but there’s no hiding a blemish that size and it’s a good reminder not to care so much about looks and more on health. Aka, wash your face lazy Jenn.

In other vanity news, finally got a fresh chop. I don’t know why, I think long hair is so sexy. You know who isn’t sexy? Hehehe, *raises hand*. Growing up I always hated haircuts. My aunt was our hairstylist and I think she tended to take liberties with our hair and I’d feel like it was always too short. Oooh young Jennifer would not be happy with my length right now. I like it! I’ve said that since I’ve met her, my hair girl is very important to me. She’s the perfect combination of fast, good, and affordable. Fast being the most important, it’s really difficult for me to sit still that long without getting anxious. Still gonna take some time to get used to it forsure, but I do really like it.

A patient mistook me for the anesthesiologist this week. He just casually asked, as I was prepping him for surgery, “are you the anesthesiologist?” It still catches me by surprise how often it’s been happening lately. Not the being confused for the doctor specifically, but the amount of acceptance that people have with the idea of it. Or even comfort that people have with asking me questions and listening to me teach them. I got so used to the fear in people’s eyes as they questioned what a small child like me was doing so close to their mouth. Could it be I’m standing taller or carrying myself with more confidence? Is it my soothing demeanor? Most likely it’s because I’m wearing two masks and patients can only see half my face. I have finally developed the seasoned amount of dead in my eyes. My eyes have a look that says “yes, I’ve read the latest American Dental Society of Anesthesiology publication, and I won’t let your face catch on fire” or “hey, it’s okay if you stop breathing, I know where the ON button for the oxygen is”. (Jk, that’s not what you do if a patient stops breathing lol). How mature and adult am I???

Daddy called this week to check to see how things are going. I don’t know when it happened, but our relationship has just blossomed so amazingly. Somethings in the water lately. We’ve reached unprecedented levels. “I was wrong” levels. Offered unprovoked from on both sides, I might add. Who would’ve thought either of us were capable. We talk about everything, the past, the future, even politics. I finally told him, “you know, back then, I thought you would’ve taken me with you.” I tell him of all my childish feelings and thoughts. But he responds to me as an adult. “If I were to have taken someone, it wouldn’t have been you. You didn’t need me.” It wasn’t what I expected to hear after all these years. And as an adult I understand his explanation. I hear people say that it’s hard in Asian families being an adult and still treated as a child. But it's not easy being the child and learning to address and accept things as an adult. I guess those people would say I got the better type of struggle to have such wonderful parents. I’ve been overcome with wonderment lately at my luck, pinching myself on how things have turned out. It’s hard to be unhappy about anything when I have a clean room and such loving and supportive parents.

“It wouldn’t have made you less of my daughter if you worked at McDonald’s. McDonald’s or a doctor, everyone has to get up and go to work everyday. I just don’t want you to struggle. You’re smart Trang. When you couldn’t do school, you went and found a job as an assistant to provide for yourself. And now you can try, you did that for yourself too. I’m proud. I’m very proud of all my kids. If I retired and returned home now, I’d return a proud father.”

what did I do to derserve this?

In my life thusfar, I’ve kinda had an unusual amount of bad experiences. Like, stuff that you never expect to actually happen to anybody. It’s kinda depressing and weird to sit down and really think about, so I don’t dwell on it. I’ve joked that I wonder if my parents had to sell my soul. But maybe my luck is turning because I’m just so happy. I’ve been carrying around all this love and it’s a forcefield around me. Year of the Ox baybeeeeee.

wishing others luck and joy, love and courage. 

[dotssophie]

New Year’s re...view:

The end of 2020, yay or yuh?

Due to my fucking bad memory (actually not, just my selective mind trying to make its agenda), let me reflect months by months:

Jan: Wait, my my, what did I do?

‘The Brain Drain Project’, that’s how I call it. I still do not understand why I came up with that idea that time. Was it because of that news? Maybe. Anyway, I realized how cool doing research was and yeah, still feel so happy due to the audience’s interest in my project...ah. Our project.

The second “Spring for You” with H5S. We were so busy, yeah, or not? We used to feel like they would not make it, yet they fucking made it. It was, absolutely fucking good. Proud of you guys. The strength of simplicity and down-to-earth method. As well as, Y.O.U.T.H!

AND, the beginning of “messaging with Trang”. Yes, now I am so confident so write your name, say your name, out loud. How desperate I was to you girl, love you so much that I... uh hm. Thank you. I appreciated those moments. Wish you all the best!

Feb: Love says “Hold my cat.”?

Dreaming and dreaming about you, Trang. All songs, all images, Adorable Home, is with you. Yeah, I was that high :)

I was worried for you, happy for you, and love you.

Mar: Back to the fucking reality of high-school-life :)

Well, I was scared of being laughed at, being looked down on, thus I tried to study the things I did not want to. STUDIED HARD AF. Or not? :) Anyway, I loved my Math teacher, he was one of the best teachers ever. Although at that time I was not as matured as present (actually I’m still not matured rn), I appreciated what he taught us. Thank you!

Apr: Quarantine - ‘the harsh reality of economic market?”

Received the admission to Fulbright: check! Yay! 

Then realized how much it costs: cried :)

Thank you myself for being happy and proud and worried in that moment!

Thank you dad and mom, how did you guys calculate that and agree with me? I am still curious but, anyway, thank you very much!

Thank you, Queen, like, for everything at that time!

May: Last days - new phone - pics of myself?

The fucking class, yes. We had been in storms. Storm in a teacup. Yet we were there, together, smiled, loved, thanked each other. And the gurls, the ‘GURLS’, you guys were, and are, so emotional and lovable. Thank you.

I love my new phone, EIGHT! YAS!

They took pictures of me, and for the first time, I have realized how beautiful I was. It sounded weird, somehow. Okay so ignore it if you do not want to see the fucking narcissism. :))

Jun: Said bye - Cried bye

We cried. Not me. Again. Thanks anyway. I appreciated that you guys loved me, loved each other, and loved to live and love.

Jul: We, finally, apart?

I regretted? Not really. I was sorry. I am sorry. We had to, did we? The H5S gang was it. It had to be. Thanks.

Aug - Sep - Oct - Nov: Too much things. I mean, too much.

I cannot remember exactly right now. It was, too much. I had learned too much, or too little? Interesting and challenging, happy and sad at the same time.

Dec: God knows I tried

Dying was an escape.

Yet too much to pay.

Pain.

Yet in many shapes.

Living is the only escape.

Thank you mom, dad, bro, for being with me. Thank you guys, for existing in my life.

Feliz 2021!

[braveclementine]

Chapter 15

Warnings: 18+ readers only

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

"𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖉𝖎𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 and Dumbledore argue about?" I demanded as I got ready for the day. Severus yawned, running a hand through his unkempt hair and waved his wand so that the shades opened, light streaming into the windows.

I slipped out of bed, stretching. Severus' shirt was very warm and I didn't feel like getting out of it.

"It was nothing." Severus said, throwing his nightgown into his wardrobe and pulling on his uniform black robes. My eyes flicked from his body to my bag where my secret drawing was being kept.

"Uh huh." I said, unconvinced.

"Don't you already know anyways?" Severus asked, disgruntled.

"No." I replied honestly. "Well, I know that you argued about Dumbledore taking too much for granted and also not wanting to do something anymore."

"I don't want to kill him." Severus said.

"You want Draco to kill him?" I asked in slight disbelief. "You know Dumbledore is trying to save Draco's soul."

"And what about my soul?" Severus asked fiercely. "Apparently it means nothing to Dumbledore!"

I sucked in my cheeks. I shouldn't have asked. I should've let it stay between Dumbledore and Severus. Why had I intervened?

I turned away, grabbing my bag, switching out Friday's books with Monday's books. I hated that it was going to be so cold during Care of Magical Creatures class. But I couldn't skip, not with me being the only student in the class.

I heard Severus grumbling behind me and I said, "I think all this business about souls is stupid."

He didn't answer,

"Your killing him out of mercy." I replied. "And to show your last act of loyalty. That you were always Dumbledore's and never Vol-"

"Don't say his name Elizabeth." Severus said sharply.

Now I said nothing.

Severus sighed, sounding frustrated and knelt behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, "Sorry." he muttered.

"You should be used to it." I muttered, "Dumbledore uses his name."

"Dumbledore is a great wizard." Severus argued, "The only one the Dark Lord fears."

"Well what would you want me to call him?" I said, very close to snapping at him as I stood up, hoisting the bag onto my shoulder.

"Anything else." Severus said.

I tried not to grin as I turned around, picking up my quill and said, "Then the last act of loyalty is killing Dumbledore, showing that you were always Dumbledore's and never anything else's."

There was a bit of awkward silence and I figured I was going to leave now when Severus grabbed me by the shoulders, spinning me around, and kissing me fiercely, "Smartass." He whispered through our lips, moving one hand down to my ass to smack it lightly.

I laughed lightly, kissing him back hungrily. I'd always thought that being in love, you eventually got tired of each others' presence. Perhaps we just hadn't been together long enough. Either way, I was going to savor every moment I was with him. He pulled away and said, "Also, that's my shirt you're wearing."

"And you're not getting it back." I teased as I pulled it off so I could get dressed in my Hogwarts robes.

"Looks better on you anyways." He said, pulling me back towards the bed.

Needless to say, we were both running late.

We made our way down the stairs together, sneaking kisses until he set his book down on the desk, and I made my way out the door, grinning broadly.

The news that Ron had been poisoned had spread throughout the school quickly by noon, but there was no fear about the occurrence. Rather, most were regarding the incident as an accident because he had been in the potions office. He must've picked up the poison on accident. Plus, he'd been healed almost immediately, therefore, it wasn't that big of a deal.

What was a bigger deal with the Gryffindors animosity towards the Hufflepuffs. This was because of Zacharias' commentary during the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match, something I wished had never happened.

I was actually quite excited with the idea of the Quidditch match since I had never played against Harry captain v captain. This would certainly be interesting, especially since we were both seekers as well.

However, we still had a week before that happened.

Over the next few days after attending classes I would spend time in the common room, helping with the first-years questions and such. I also upped Rose and Grace's private lessons with me from just Friday to Wednesday and Friday.

I also spent time in the common room in the corner, working on the mid-draft for the drawing, adding more details. I wanted there to be something that connected each Professor to their job. Now, instead of Trelawney having her hands clasped in front of her, she was now holding out a crystal ball. Professor McGonagall had a tabby cat by her feet. Firenze was holding a bow, a sling of arrows across his back.

But before the Quidditch match could approach in full, Severus cornered me one night into the discussion.

"Hufflepuff is playing Gryffindor this week?" Severus asked casually, dipping his quill into his ink and writing a 3 out of 10 on one of the papers.

"Yes." I replied casually, adding detail to Dumbledore's glasses. Severus did not know what I was working on but I would not let him see it and he was respecting my privacy.

"Zacharias is the captain, right?"

I thought maybe he was joking and I laughed casually, "Of course not. I am."

"You are?" Severus asked strangely and I looked up from the drawing.

Severus seemed mad, but he didn't look mad.

"Yes. . ." I said slowly, frowning, "You did know that, didn't you?"

Severus' face flushed and he said, "I thought you would have given it up!"

"Why would I do that?" I frowned, trying to figure out what I was missing here.

"Because you're pregnant!" Severus exploded and I felt the blood drain from my face when I realized what his problem was.

"Oh." I whispered, setting my drawing utensil down and quickly put the drawing away. "But Sev, I'll be fine. I'm a good flier, I'm not going to get hurt."

"You don't know that!" Severus said fiercely, shoving the homework aside, throwing the quill down. Ink splattered on the pages.

He shoved the chair back, standing up quickly and I looked at him in amazement and somewhat fearful. He was angry, extremely angry. I had to say something.

"Sev!" I stood up now, holding a hand out to touch his chest. "Breathe, alright?" I said this as lightly as possible. He closed his eyes, his hand reaching out and taking mine, keeping my hand against his chest.

"Look." I said softly, reaching up, touching his cheek softly with my other hand. "The match is going to be smooth. I foresee Hufflepuff winning."

Severus breathed in deeply and then said, "I don't want you to get hurt and even more, I don't want the child to be harmed either."

"You've watched me fly for five years Sev." I said gently. "I usually come out unscathed."

"Right." Severus said, "But there have been close calls."

"I'm playing against Gryffindor, remember, not Slytherin." I said this as gently as possible. "They're not going to be trying to seriously harm me."

Severus gritted his teeth, most likely because he had no way of defending the Slytherins and also me at the same time and he said, "If you get hurt-"

"I won't." I said firmly.

We stared at each other for a moment, almost like a staring contest and he relented, sitting back down in his chair.

I sat back down on the bed, pulling out the drawing and started to work on Hagrid's character.

"What are you working on?" Severus asked curiously and I lifted the paper slightly so that he couldn't see.

"You'll see when it's time for you to see." I said, methodically adding tiny bristles to Madam Hooch's broom.

Severus sighed in an exaggerated way before turning back to his work. I was worried that things were going to be bad between the two of us. I wasn't sure he'd completely let go of the idea of me not playing at the game this Saturday.

When we finally went to bed, there did seem to be space between the two of us that wasn't usually there at night. I didn't say anything though. It was my choice about whether or not I was going to play at the game this week. Nothing was going to happen and there was no reason for him to be upset with me.

I tried putting myself in his shoes. The baby was his child too and as such, he really should have a say in the child's safety. He had to try and get me to keep the baby safe.

I wondered what Trang would say if she knew that I was playing in the game this week. Would she agree with me? I had promised not to participate in any fights. But that had been with Death Eaters and students. Did Quidditch count?

If I did stop, what was my excuse? I certainly couldn't say an overload of homework, because the others were more overwhelmed than I was. There was nothing I could say that was an adequate excuse for giving the captain ship over to Zacharias.

I shifted uncomfortably onto my side, my back facing Severus, looking out at the dark room. I certainly couldn't tell the Quidditch team I was pregnant for goodness sake! Even Hermione didn't know.

Severus breathing turned into soft snoring and I slipped out of bed, unable to sleep. I went over, sitting by the window, looking out at the dark grounds. Then I shifted my eyes, turning my head so that I could look up at the sky.

The moon wasn't full yet, though it was getting to that point. I wished I could talk to dad, but that wasn't possible. The little girl in my stomach kicked me, though it felt like a feather kick. I put a hand on my stomach, wishing for the millionth time that I knew the countercharm to Dumbledore's spell. I would've liked to see the bump.

I fell asleep at the windowsill, looking up at the sky, but woke up in bed, Severus arm wrapped tightly around my shoulder, my cheek resting on his nightgown. His breathing was uneven, I wondered what he was dreaming about.

I rolled over, his arm flopping to the side so that I could check the time. It was a few hours till sunrise, but I no longer felt tired.

I pulled out a new piece of paper and a pencil and though there was almost no light, I started on a drawing that I had wanted to draw for a very long time.

Severus always looked quite peaceful when he slept and it was a good muse for the drawing. Of course, I didn't know how the drawing was going to turn out, considering there was no light. I halfway let my subconscious take control, and halfway not.

I couldn't see the finishing piece, but I finally felt that I could sleep properly and without putting the artwork away, I fell asleep, my head resting on Severus' legs.

"You were restless last night." Severus murmured after he had shaken me awake so that I wasn't late for class.

"Couldn't sleep." I murmured, rolling out of bed and grabbing my robes.

"What's that?" Severus asked, leaning down and picking up a piece of paper. It was the drawing I had drawn last night.

I blushed, wondering how it had come out. Severus' eyes scanned the paper and his mouth curled into a smirk.

"Give me that." I muttered, reaching to snatch the piece of paper out of his hand. He held it out of my reach and I glared at him.

"Great detail." Severus said, openly grinning now. "I hope you weren't planning on selling this one?"

I jumped, grabbing the paper, and turned the drawing to face me. It'd come out better than I had thought. He was right, there was great detail to this drawing, though no where close to the detail I'd give the mystery drawings or the Professor drawings.

I blushed deeper, folding the sexual drawing up, and handed it to him. "No, I wasn't going to sell it. You can keep it if you want."

I grabbed my bag, pulling it over my shoulder. I kissed him on the cheek and hurried out of the office so that I could grab breakfast before class.

Trang met me halfway to the Great Hall and I felt the impending doom of the Quidditch questions coming.

Indeed, the minute we sat down, refreshingly at the Ravenclaw table, she started with, "You're not playing the Quidditch game are you?"

"I've already discussed this with Severus and we feel that there is no danger if I play." I said as firmly as possible while pulling over chocolate muffins.

Trang dropped her mouth, her fork dangling carelessly from her fingers. I wondered if I was starting to see everything as art, each moment a pause in time, a drawing that could be captured. I wasn't so sure Trang would like if I drew her at this exact moment though.

"You're kidding, right?"

I sighed, peeling away the wrapper. I wasn't supposed to have chocolate or muffins or chocolate muffins but I was feeling rebellious this week, and I figured my little girl needed to taste sugar so she grew a sweet tooth anyways.

"No. Trang. I'm not kidding. Especially since we're playing Gryffindor, I'm in no danger and neither is the child." I bit into the sugary mess and was immediately satisfied. I should eat like this more often. Oh wait. . . no I couldn't.

"You promised-"

"I promised not to get into fights with Death Eaters and I extended that to duels in school." I replied, a bit sharper than intended. "I did not promise to stop flying or hand over my captainship. I kept my captain ship all last year despite Umbitches attempts to 'dethrone' me. I don't plan on just handing it over for no reason!"

"But the baby!" Trang complained.

"Trang!" I said sharply, putting my muffin down. "I've already told you that I've talked it over with Sev. If he's okay with it, then it's okay."

Trang hands were clenched into fists on the table, quivering. I got up abruptly from the table, storming off to potions where Harry was star boy and Hermione and I were second-hand for the first time in our lives. Bloody frustrating.

Saturday approached. Trang and I hadn't spoken since our spat at the Ravenclaw table. Severus seemed almost nervous this morning and eventually, his nerves became my nerves because I couldn't help it.

I went down to the Quidditch pitch early so that I could sit by myself in the Hufflepuff locker room. I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the wall.

An hour later, the other teammates started to come in, chattering quickly and excitedly and I quickly started to get into my own robes.

The match time drew closer and I looked out the door. "Alright Anthony, James, you'll want to fly out of the sun." I commanded and I was glad my voice was sound and sure, "That way the other team won't see the bludgers coming. Of course, I wouldn't be surprised if Harry told his own beaters to do that so be on the lookout. Susan, up to your post."

Susan flew up to the Keeper's post on our end. I noticed McLaggen was already in his spot. I walked out with the rest of my team.

Harry and I stood opposite each other and shook hands cordially, grins on both of our faces. Madam Hooch blew her whistle and we all streaked upwards. My nerves turned into adrenaline and I shot up higher than any of the other players, looking down for the snitch.

Harry was looking for the snitch so that he could get back to the castle and find out what Draco was doing. That was the wrong mindset for the game.

"And that's Smith of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle. He did the commentary last time, of course, and Ginny Weasley flew into him, I think probably on purpose, it looked like it." A dreamy voice echoed through the stadium and I pulled up short in amazement, right next to Harry, and looked towards the commentator post. "Smith was being quite rude about Gryffindor, I expect he regrets it now he's playing them-oh look, he's lot the Quaffle, Ginny took it from him, I do like her, she's very nice. . ."

While I had foreseen Luna commentating Quidditch, I hadn't quite expected this. I noticed all the Quidditch players had frozen for a moment, looking at Luna before moving into motion again. Harry and I exchanged a glance, and we both shook our heads in amazement before we darted off in opposite directions.

Luke took the Quaffle from Ginny. It was a good play too. I ducked a bludger but it didn't come to close. I really needed to keep any eye on the bludgers as well as the snitch.

". . . now that big Hufflepuff player's got the Quaffle from her, I can't remember his name, it's something like Chaddle- no Clartin-"

"It's Cholderton!" Professor McGonagall shouted from behind Luna, loudly enough to be heard through the magical megaphone. The crowd laughed. It was an entertaining commentary.

A moment later, Luke scored. I looked over just long enough to see that McLaggen had been shouting at Ginny, rather than watching where the Quaffle was.

"And Harry Potter's now having an argument with his Keeper. I don't think that'll help him find the Snitch, but maybe it's a clever ruse."

Below, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins were jeering at the Gryffindors. Imagine Slytherins being on your side.

Both Ginny and the other girl chaser on the team whose name started with a D scored a goal and then Luke scored a second one. The game continued on though Luna was trying to draw attention to shapes in the clouds. Zacharias hadn't taken possession of the Quaffle once since his fumble in the beginning and Luna was starting to mention that he might have Loser's Lurgy.

While entertaining, I certainly couldn't have Zacharias with any condition and I zoomed over on my broom.

"What's going on?" I asked while McGonagall shouted that we were up thirty points after Rose scored a goal.

"I just can't seem to play." Zacharias said through gritted teeth. "That Luna-"

"It's all in your head." I snapped, "You're one of my best chasers. Now get out there and show me that you are."

"And now Elizabeth's yelling at Zacharias. Or maybe they're just talking, I'm not sure. I like Elizabeth, she's very popular. It's also rumored that she's working on a surprise for the Professors, but it might not be true."

I blushed. "Bloody hell Luna."

Zacharias grinned, "I think I can score some goals now."

We both sped off into different directions.

"Oh look! The Gryffindor Keeper's got hold of one of the Beat's bats." Luna announced dreamily.

I pulled up short and watched as Harry pelted towards McLaggen. Cormac took a swing, mishit, and the bludger collided with Harry who started to fall.

At that moment, I caught the sign of gold and I dropped, diving after the snitch. I no longer had to compete against anyone to catch this snitch (though I wasn't particularly glad about it). I just hoped that Harry's teammates had enough sense to catch him.

The Gryffindors were moaning and the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins were cheering. I reached out, grabbing the snitch. While originally, I'd seen us winning three hundred and twenty to sixty, the real score under my captainship was two hundred and forty to fifty.

I landed, the rest of the Hufflepuff team catching up to me and we headed off to the lockers amongst the cheers of the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins.

"Brilliant game everyone." I said cheerfully, wanting to find Trang and shake an apology from her but also wanting her to come herself and apologize herself.

"Loser's Lurgy." Rose chortled. "Zacharias has Loser's Lurgy."

"What a little brat." Zacharias muttered under his breath and Rose stuck her tongue out at him, skipping to the locker room.

"McLaggen is unbelievable." Susan said, shaking her head as the rest of us entered the locker room.

"He's in some of my classes." Luke said unexpectedly. He reminded me of Malcolm. He was usually very quiet- I'd only ever heard him say a few words. "Because he knows people in high places he automatically thinks he knows everything."

"Including how to play every Quidditch position apparently." James piped up, putting his beaters bat into the locker.

"You're coming to the party right?" Susan asked as we walked up the slop. Anthony and James were ahead. Rose and Zacharias walked on either side of her. Luke was somewhere behind us.

"Yes." I said. "But I'll be a few minutes late. I want to go and check on Harry on the hospital wing."

"Alright." Susan said as we entered the castle, "See you then."

We split off into opposite directions and I found my way to the hospital wing and stepped inside. Ginny was already there, sitting in a wooden chair between Harry and Ron's beds and was telling Ron what had happened.

"How is he?" I asked, pulling up a chair and sitting next to Harry.

"Cracked skull." Ginny said, looking worried. "I think the rest of the team is going to kill McLaggen. Well-" She sucked air up her nose and spat out, "except Dean."

I looked away, not wanting to get into the middle of everyone else's love business. "Dean laughed?"

"Yes!" Ginny said hotly. "Actually, I think I'm going to go kill McLaggen now!"

She got up, storming out of the hospital wing. I sighed, shaking my head.

"Did McLaggen really do that bad?" Ron asked, sounding hopeful.

"Yes." I said honestly. I would much rather play Gryffindor with McLaggen as Keeper than Ron at this moment. "He kept trying to act as captain and tell the others what they were doing wrong rather than paying attention to what he was supposed to be doing himself."

Ron looked happy about that and then said, "I hope Luna commentates from now on."

I chuckled. "So do I."

I got up, kissed Harry's cheek, and then left the room to go and join the party.

🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖉𝖆𝖞, I joined Hermione, Harry, and Ron as they were walking down to the Great Hall for breakfast. I was quite glad that Hermione and Ron were friends again and this felt more normal- the four of us.

"Ginny and Dean rowed last night." Hermione mentioned as we walked down the marble staircase.

"What did they row about?" Harry asked casually. A small girl dropped heavy brass scales as we approached. I glared at her, keeping my mouth shut.

"It's all right! Here. . ." Hermione said, hurrying forward the repairing the brass scales.

"I swear they're getting smaller." Ron said after we'd passed the small girl.

"Never mind her, what did Ginny and Dean row about, Hermione?" Harry asked, sounding impatient.

"Oh, Dean was laughing about McLaggen hitting that Bludger at you." Hermione said.

"It must've looked funny." Ron consented.

"It didn't look funny at all! It looked terrible and if Coote and Peakes hadn't caught Harry he could have been very badly hurt!" Hermione replied hotly.

"Yeah, well, there was no need for Ginny and Dean to split up over it, or are they still together?" Harry asked, the casualness not so casual.

"Yes, they are- but why are you so interested?" Hermione asked sharply.

"I just don't want my Quidditch team messed up again!"

"Harry!" A dreamy voice called.

"Oh, hi, Luna." Harry said, turning to face her.

"I went to the hospital wing to find you but they said you'd left. . ." Luna said, thrusting a green onion, a spotted toadstool, and possibly cat litter into Ron's arms. "I've been told to give you this." She handed Harry a roll of parchment that was most likely from Dumbledore.

"Tonight." Harry said to Ron, Hermione, and I after he unrolled and skimmed through it.

"Nice commentary last match!" Ron said to Luna as he handed her stuff back over to her.

Luna smiled at him vaguely, "You're making fun of me, aren't you? Everyone says I was dreadful."

"I loved it." I said sincerely.

"No, I'm serious!" Ron agreed. "I can't remember enjoying commentary more! What is this, by the way?" he added, holding up the onion which wasn't an onion.

"Oh, it's a Gurdyroot. You can keep it if you like, I've got a few of them. They're really excellent for warding off Gulping Plimpies."

She walked off, leaving Ron behind to laugh contentedly.

"You know, she's grown on me, Luna. I know she's insane, but it's in a good-" Ron started happily before he was cut off by Lavender Brown. "Hi?"

"C'mon." Harry muttered to Hermione and I and we sped up.

I distinctly heard Lavender murderously question Ron, "Why didn't you tell me you were getting out today? And why was she with you?"

"Oh yeah," Hermione said as we sat down at the Gryffindor table. "What was Luna talking about during the match yesterday Elizabeth?"

"Which part?" I asked, grinning.

"The thing for the teachers." she clarified.

I moved uncomfortably in my seat, "Oh well, it was supposed to be a surprise. I suppose Luna didn't know about that part."

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously.

"I'll show you guys later." I said, slicing an apple into small pieces so I didn't have to bite into the apple.

"When?" Hermione asked.

"How about later today in the library. I'll be with a group of Hufflepuffs." I said.

"Sure." Harry said. "But it better be good considering all the suspense."

"It's not suspense." I said scornfully. "It's a secret. Students talk, you know? If we keep it amongst a few people, it'll stay quiet from the teachers. Not that Luna helped with that."

"Had you told Luna?" Hermione asked.

"No. It was only discussed amongst a few Hufflepuffs. Perhaps Ernie or Zacharias said something." I suggested, shrugging. "Or perhaps Rose told Grace and Grace spread it around."

"Rose plays well." Harry complimented.

"She does, doesn't she?" I smiled, sliding a piece of apple into the back of my mouth. "I was pleasantly surprised. She has a knack for dodging bludgers."

The rest of the conversation carried out onto the Quidditch matches and Hermione disappeared behind her newspaper. Gryffindor was most likely to win the cup this year, something I was both pleased and disappointed about. I wondered if the difference in the two scores would change things.

Around noon, I went to the library to partly work on my Herbology essay and partly to add some new details to the drawing before I showed it off the Hufflepuffs and Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

I was nowhere near finished, not even close. There were so many more details that needed to be done, especially with the Professors I either hadn't met like Kettleburn, Professors I didn't see any more like Quirrell, Lockhart, and Umbridge, or Professors I simply didn't have like Burbage from Muggle studies.

To top it all off, besides Hagrid, Severus, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Uncle Moody, Firenze, and Dad, I didn't really have the details memorized from all the other Professors which made things quite difficult when trying to call up specific details. Moles, wrinkles, stress lines, the lights of their eyes, the skin deformities, the shapes of their eyes, noses, mouths, ears, hair, their height, crooked shoulders, bent knees, etc.

I knew that the sketch would never be perfect. What I needed to do was to get it to a point of satisfaction for everyone except for me. Only the artist sees the flaws in their own work where others don't. (Except perhaps art critics).

I decided to work on the Herbology essay first because that didn't need to be as perfect as the drawing and would take less time.

Halfway through however, there was an interruption in the form of a person: Trang.

She sat down across from me, red eyed, and with a stuffy nose. I knew she'd been crying and though we'd fought, I immediately set aside my essay to talk to her. I reached out, taking her hand in mine. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry." Trang whispered, "You were right. There was no danger after all."

I sighed. "Look, Trang, I'm sorry. In a way, you were right. Something could've gone wrong, something could've happened. At the same time, I don't want to live my life in a safety box, you know?"

Trang smiled hesitantly, "Yes, I know. You never could do that."

I smiled, pulling back the essay and finishing off the last paragraphs. Then I pulled out the art drawing.

"What more do you need to do on this?" Trang asked, frowning at the drawing.

"Lots and lots of details." I said, not taking my eyes off the drawing and pulling out my pencil. "I'm going to have to find and excuse to see some of these Professors. I've got a picture of Lockhart and Umbridge, but Quirrell is going to be harder. Plus I've never met Kettleburn and Grubby-Plank is hard to pull up as well. Not to mention the Professors I've only had for a year like Burbage. I have to do these people justice, and the details are quite difficult." I paused for a second and then said, "Plus, I'd like to add myself into the drawing."

"Like an artists mark." Trang stated in a matter-of-fact way.

"Exactly." I said, my voice rising in excitement. "I think I'm going to do it in cat form. No one will find that weird because McGonagall has a cat on her shoulder, Filch is holding Mrs. Norris, and Fang is by Hagrid's feet. I just don't know where I want myself to be, you know? I was thinking by Firenze's feet but I'm also Severus' wife, but I Severus doesn't exactly show his um. . . what do you call it. . . emotional side to anyone else and him holding a cat isn't as realistic as the drawing could be. So I'm not entirely sure where-"

"In your dad's arms." Trang said and it was such a simple suggestion and the obvious one that I kind've just stared at her for a moment. "What? It'll bind the love that you two have between the two of you in a symbolic and permanent way even after we're all dead."

"Your completely, totally right." I whispered. "Though of course, I'll have to take out the tank under his arm."

"Not necessarily." Trang suggested, tilting the paper slightly to the left instead of getting up and coming around the other side of the table to look at it. "The cat could be drawn by his feet. Or he could be holding you to his shoulder with one hand."

"Of course. . ." I whispered, picking up the paper and holding it up to the light. "Genius Trang! Genius!"

"What's genius?" A new voice said and I quickly rolled the paper automatically, feeling stupid when I saw that it was Ernie, Justin, and Zacharias.

"Is that the drawing?" Justin asked.

"Yes." I said. "I'm just waiting for the others to show so I can show all of you at once."

"Let's go over here." Zacharias said, jerking his head. I carried the drawing while Trang picked up my things and we headed to a corner of the library.

It was circular shaped, bookcases all around. I stayed with my back to the wall so that no one could appear from behind us. There were chairs that were angled around a small coffee table. Ernie, Justin, Zacharias, and Trang all took seats nearest to me. Very soon, Susan and Hannah entered and hurried over.

Rose followed by herself some moments later.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry came in last, settling around with us.

"So what is it?" Ron asked bluntly.

I gave the credit where it was due. "Susan came up with the idea, at least to the best of my knowledge, I wasn't paying attention to the conversation. Anyways, they said we should come up with a graduating present. A token of appreciation to our teachers. I took this a bit literally. . ." I carefully unrolled the drawing, facing it towards them on the coffee table.

"When you meant all of them. . ." Harry said slowly, observing Professor Moody's details.

"All of them." I said solidly. "None of us had Kettleburn, granted, but he was still an incredibly important teacher and he was technically here when we were here."

"This is amazing!" Rose declared. She'd left her seat, kneeling by the coffee table.

"Thanks Rose." I said gently.

"I can't believe you're done already." Zacharias said, his neck cinching a little as he turned his head to look at the drawing rather than stand up to look at it.

Trang snorted, "Done? You should've heard her earlier. Going on about details. She's apparently nowhere close to done."

Hannah's face was quite impressed. She came back after Christmas break with the rest of us. She'd been unusually quiet, but I didn't blame her in the least.

Ernie was also being unusually quiet, observing the drawing as though he had to take a test on it later. I was slightly amused.

"So?" I asked, "How's the rough draft?"

Ernie chuckled. "Rough draft."

"It's wonderful Elizabeth." Hermione said, practically glowing with happiness. "You've captured all of them so well."

"You should make Professor Snape grumpier." Ron pointed out. "He looks to kind in this drawing."

My eyes met Harry's for the briefest second and I said, "Well, I was trying to make them all look a bit nicer."

"Yes, I can tell with Mrs. Norris." Susan said, "Even Filch looks a bit happy in this one."

"That was inspirational." I said honestly. "After Mrs. Norris was unpetrified, I saw him holding her and he looked quite happy."

"I would definitely pay to see a drawing of Professor Snape smiling." Justin said with a laugh.

"Oh, one second." I said, giddy with pleasure. I was human after all and I did like compliments to my drawings. "I was doing some portraits. Pay me for this."

I handed him the artpad, page already up of Severus smiling, standing by the window, holding out his hand.

"Wow." Justin said, laughing and passing the artpad around. "That's. . . wow."

The drawing brought on laughs. After all, no one had ever seen Severus smile before. Harry met my eyes again and gave me a slight nod. I gave him a small smile before sticking the art pad into my bag. Trang gave me a smile as well.

"Well." I said. "I must admit that's all I had. I just wanted opinions, criticisms. I'll take into account of S- Professor Snape looking grumpier. I was also hoping you guys could give advice on what each Professor could be holding or wearing that might contribute to their subject. For instance, Professor Lupin was holding the Grindylow tank or Professor Burbage holding the rotary telephone- that's a Muggle thing. Anyways, I don't need suggestions now but if you guys write down a list or something I can utilize it in the final drawings, deal?"

"Deal." Came multiple responses.

"Great." I said with a broad grin and we all left the library at different times.

🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

"𝕯𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 tell stories?" Severus asked sleepily late that night.

"Through my art, you mean?" I asked, rolling over so I could see part of his face in the moonlight.

"No, I mean physical stories. I know you wrote a couple before giving up the hobby." Severus said, putting an arm around me to pull my closer though he was looking up at the ceiling rather than at me.

"No." I said softly, looking at the wall. "I've never told an adequate story without artwork."

"So if you had a piece of artwork, you could tell a story." Severus said.

I got up on my elbows to get a better look at him, "Why?"

"Something I was simply curious about." Severus said smoothly, pulling me down to the bed again. I gave in, pressing my lips to his warm bare skin.

I looked at him for a moment and then rolled over out of bed.

"Where are you going?" Severus asked. I heard the bedsprings creak and knew he was probably sitting up.

"I'll be right back, I promise." I said gently, turning into a cat and padding out of the room.

I made my way to the Hufflepuff common room. I probably should've put clothes on, I realized too late. I morphed, quickly entered the password and turned back into a cat before anyone could see me. I slinked upstairs to the dorm.

The other girls were asleep and I padded over to where I'd locked the drawings. I morphed again, pulling the blanket off my bed and draping it over me while I unlocked the drawer, pulling out a specific drawing.

It was the drawing of a shop filled with keys. Keys in jars, keys hanging from the ceiling, keys hanging in the garden, keys under class cases and such. There was an old man, rearranging jars on a shelf, his face turned away so that only the back of him could be seen.

I locked the dresser again, turning back into a cat and, carrying the drawing in my small mouth, made my way back to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.

After my long black tail slipped through the thin opening of the office door, I turned back into a human and closed the door behind me. Severus was grinning from where he was sitting on the bed and I rolled my eyes.

I lit a candle as I passed by, carrying it over near the bed. I handed Severus the drawing.

I touched the drawing too, wondering if this would work. But if I could believe Severus' hypothesis to be true, then if I reached into my subconscious, this could work.

I closed my eyes, the image of the drawing appearing into the back of my mind and I almost back out of the experiment. This was too weird, to much magic for a magical world. But was it? I took a deep breath and then started to speak in a voice that was my own and yet, also not my voice.

"Once there was a man who collected keys. Old keys and new keys and broken keys. Lost keys and stolen keys and skeleton keys. He carried them in his pockets and wore them on chains that clattered as he walked around the town. Everyone in the town knew the key collector. Some people though his habit strange but the key collector was a friendly sort and had a thoughtful air and a quick smile. If someone lost a key or broke a key they could ask the key collector and he would usually have a replacement that would suit their needs. It was often faster than having a new key made. The key collector kept the most common shapes and sizes of keys always at hand, in case someone was in need of a key for a door or a cupboard or a chest."

The man almost seemed to move, walking from the jars to the counter where the large tubs of keys were kept. His face was in view now.

"The key collector was not possessive about his keys. He gave them away when they were needed. (Though often people would have a new key made anyway and return the one they had borrowed). People gave him found keys or spare keys as gifts to add to his collection. When they traveled they would find keys to bring back with them, keys with unfamiliar shapes and strange teeth. (They called the man himself the key collector but a great many people aided with the collecting.)"

Severus fingers trailed up and down my spine, distracting me momentarily.

"Eventually the key collector had too many keys to carry and began displaying them around his house. He hung them in the windows on ribbons like curtains and arranged them on bookshelves and framed them on walls. The most delicate ones he kept under glass or in boxes meant for jewels. Others were piled together with similar keys, kept in buckets or baskets."

As I spoke, I saw each thing that was talked about. Keys hanging in windows though I'd never drawn that. Clearer details of the keys under the glass boxes then from the angle originally drawn. I finally knew what some people talked about drawings coming to life though I thought mine had more sustenance.

"After many years the entire house was filled near to bursting with keys. They hung on the outside as well, over the doors and the windows and draped from the eaves of the roof. The key collector's house was easily spotted from the road.

"One day there was a knock upon his door.

"The key collector opened the door to find a pretty woman in a long cloak on his doorstep. He had never seen her before, nor had he seem embroidery of the sort that trimmed her cloak: star-shaped flowers in gold thread on dark cloth, too fine for travel though she must have traveled far. He did not see a horse or a carriage and supposed she might have left them at the inn for no one passed through this town without staying at the inn and it was not far.

"'I have been told you collect keys,' the woman said to the key collector.

'"I do,' said the key collector, though this was obvious. There were keys hanging above the doorway where they stood, keys on the walls behind him, keys in jars and bowls and vases on the tables.

"'I am looking for something that has been locked away. I wonder if one of your keys might unlock it.'

'"You are welcome to look,' the key collector said and invited the woman inside.

"He considered asking the woman what manner of key she sought so he might help her look but he knew how difficult it was to describe a key. To find a key you had to understand the lock.

"So the key collector let the woman search the house. He showed her every room, every cabinet and bookshelf line with keys. The kitchen with its teacups and wineglasses filled with keys, save for the few that were used more frequently, empty and waiting for wine or for tea.

"The key collector offered the woman a cup of tea but she politely refused. He left her to her searching and sat in the front parlor where she could find him if she needed and he read a book.

"After many hours the woman returned to the key collector.

"'It is not here,' she said. 'Thank you for letting me look.'

"'There are more keys in the back garden,' the key collector said, and led the woman outside.

"The garden was festooned with keys, strung from ribbons in a rainbow of colors. Keys tied with bows hung from trees and bouquets of keys displayed in glazed pots and vases. Birdcages with keys hung on the tiny swings inside with no birds to be seen. Keys set into the paving stones along the garden paths. A bubbling fountain contained piles of keys beneath the water, sunken like wishes.

"The light was fading so the key collector lit the lanterns.

"'It is lovely here,' the woman said. She began to look through the garden keys, keys held by statues and keys wound around topiaries. She stopped in front of a tree that was just starting to blossom, reaching out to a key, one of many hanging from red ribbons.

"'Will that key suit your lock?' the key collector asked.

"'More than that,' the woman answered. 'This is my key. I lost it a very long time ago. I'm glad it found its way to you.'

"'I am glad to return it,' the key collector said. He reached up to untie the ribbon for her, leaving it hanging from the key in her hand.

"'I must find a way to repay you,' the woman said to the key collector.

"'No need for that' the key collector told her. 'It is my pleasure to help reunited you with your locked-away thing.'

"'Oh,' the woman said, 'It is not a thing. It is a place,'

"She held the key out in front of her at a height above her waist where keyhole might have been if there was a door and part of the key vanished. The woman turned the key and an invisible door unlocked in the middle of the key collector's garden. The woman pushed the door open.

"The key and its ribbon remained hanging in midair.

"The key collector looked through the door into a golden room with high arched windows..."

I drifted off and Severus looked at me sharply, bringing me back to reality. For a moment, seeing the images play inside my house, it felt real.

"What?" Severus asked.

"I drew the place that the man is describing." I said softly, mad at myself for breaking the spell. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to finish the story. But Severus prodded me and I closed my eyes again.

"Dozens of candles stood on tables laid for a great feast. He heard music playing and laughter coming from out of sight. Through the windows he could see waterfalls and mountains, a sky brightly lit by two moons and countless stars reflected in a shimmering sea. The woman walked through the door, her long cloak trailing over the golden tiles. The key collector stood in his garden, staring. The woman took the key

"on its ribbon from its lock.

"She turned back to the key collector. She raised a hand in invitation, beckoning him forward.

"The key collector followed.

"The door closed behind him.

"No one ever saw him again."

⬅️➡️