#ask alohaemora

[alohaemora]

please talk about something subtle you've put in a story that you hope readers pick up on

This is such a lovely question, I've really enjoyed reading other people's answers to this. I don't know if you've answered it yourself yet, but if not, I may pop on over to your inbox 👀

I get way too excited whenever I find ways to plant subtle foreshadowing or references to canon in my fics lol. I try to work them into my writing whenever the opportunities present themselves - and as long as they make sense thematically, of course. The first example that popped into my head (probably because I reread it recently) is my fic The Meeting, where Dumbledore officially offers Snape the Potions master post.

"Potions?" Severus's stomach dropped.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Were you under the impression that you would be teaching something else?"

Severus's lip curled. "I assumed that I would be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, as that is the position I originally applied for."

"Ah, yes, but unfortunately, we have already filled that particular vacancy," Dumbledore said, his tone apologetic, though his eyes gleamed with amusement. "Professor Slughorn, however, has notified me of his intent to retire this December. He feels much…safer, leaving the school at this time, now that the imminent threat of Lord Voldemort has been dissolved."

Severus repressed a snort. He had no trouble whatsoever believing that the portly, little Potions master had delayed his retirement to enjoy the benefits of being under Dumbledore's employ during the Dark Lord's reign.

Severus had never cared much for Slughorn, even while he had been a member of his house and of his precious Slug Club. Lily had liked Slughorn a great deal more than Severus ever had, and for that, he supposed the feeling had been mutual.

But Potions was the one thing, the one happy memory that Potter had never been able to take away from him. No one else had appreciated the subtle science, the infinite beauty of potion-brewing the way Lily had. There had been no foolish wand-waving, no silly incantations in that class; Potter had never managed to hex Severus during a Potions lesson. Even after that fateful June afternoon, there had been something achingly comforting about watching Lily's dark hair frizz up across the classroom, her kind, green eyes captivating him over the shimmering fumes…

I crafted Snape's internal monologue here to parallel his opening remarks during the first Potions lesson in PS.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word—like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses." —Chapter 8, The Potions Master, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

[whinlatter]

Obsessed with your character ask responses - that Filch one was just *chef’s kiss*

2, 19, 47 for Lily Evans please!

thank you @alohaemora! troubling that i found filch easier to write than lily… but i love a challenge, so: lily evans! 🪷

2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on

lily evans had a regional accent 100%. either like a midlands brummie/wolves accent, or like a nottingham midlands/northern lilt. petunia did too, for a while, and snape had a particularly pronounced one, reflecting his class position relative to the evans family. petunia and snape trained theirs out - petunia as a sign of class ascension, snape as a calculated way of people knowing as little about him as possible. lily stubbornly hung onto hers - it was part of the reason she viewed james (and sirius) with contempt for so long, hating posh boy drawl shtick. but the more she hung out with the marauders, the more her vowels started slipping, another sign of her growing distance from the life and the family she was from. (can you tell i care too much about regional representation in this series)

19. Vices/bad habits

actually love this question - saint lily is boring! let her have flaws! i could see lily enjoying a Big Night Out. i want lily evans stumbling drunk in the street with a kebab in one hand and her heels in the other trying to flag down the night bus. binge drinking ladette culture is a proud and noble tradition and at least one evans sister needs to uphold it.

47. Dream job

this was so hard. lily headcanons are so hard! criminally underserved in canon to an intensely problematic extent. people writing lily in canon compliant fic deserve medals, honestly

i suppose the one thing we know of lily’s intellectual interests, other than that she was a gifted all rounder, as that she had an instinctual and impressive grasp of potions, and i like the idea of her having an interest in discovery, a real attention to detail but also a flexibility of thought, an inventiveness and a curiosity that could push her in a lot of different career directions. i also just love a girl with an ego - that one of the things that pissed her off about james was the sense of him as an academic rival. so maybe something in magical chemical research? there’s also a part of me that just likes the idea of her dreaming of travel and exploration, particularly in the last months of her life when she was confined to the house. the letter to sirius focussed on james, frustration at being sealed in and unable to go out under his cloak, but i think that could be lily expressing a frustration she shares with james but not wanting to sound like she herself was complaining. so yeah something that lets her think and roam and comes with some prestige, because she’s got a lot to prove and a muggleborn chip on her shoulder that means she’s determined to make a name for herself. as she should!

[liiilyevans]

WIP Snippet Shares

Thank you @practicecourts for the tag! I'm working on a few oneshots, challenges, and one multichapter fic right now.

Invisible String

“You know French, yes?” she said.  “Oui,” Bill answered cheekily.  Fleur rolled her eyes, but he saw the corners of her lips tug upwards. A good sign.  “You will teach me English then.” He was sure she met it as a question, but that was not how it came out. After glancing up and down at her, Bill realized that she was very sure of his answer — yes. Normally, he would have agreed to teach her, but the Order and his family had monopolized his time recently. Though the goblins hadn’t noticed, it was starting to effect his work. Adding English lessons onto his plate would not lighten that load.  “Fleur.” He interlaced his fingers and leaned forward. “I don’t think I’m the right person to teach you.” 

Run

“You going to tell me what I did, or am I going to have to guess?” he asked. “It’s not you, Oliver.” Her tone was so despondent, so unlike Angelina, that it gave Oliver pause. He studied her for a moment, watched as she turned toward the fridge, and noticed the slight puffiness of her eyes. Ah. He could guess what had caused that. Oliver crossed his arms. “What’d he do this time, then?”

Question . . .?

When she landed, Bill was waiting for her on the back porch. It still surprised her to see the deep scars running across her oldest brother’s face. In her mind, Bill was still the cool rebel brother who went to Egypt to break curses. But he was a father and husband now, which was still hard for her to fathom. She still admired his fang earring though. Out of all of her brothers, Bill’s opinion mattered most to her. Ron could hate her, George could scream at her, Charlie could berate her choices, and Percy could abandon her, but all of that paled in comparison to Bill’s disapproval. Ginny squared her shoulders in defense as she ascended the steps.  Bill simply offered her the jacket she’d left behind earlier.  Quietly, Ginny slipped it on.  “Where is he?” Bill asked, his gaze locked on the horizon.  “At Fred’s grave,” Ginny answered softly as she buttoned up her coat.  “You shouldn’t indulgence him like you do,” Bill said. “He’s got to learn to deal with his grief on his own.” 

Tagging: @annabtg @alohaemora @sirenicc @thejilyship @siriuslychessi @theroomofreq

[harryissuchalittleshit]

Hi, i was wondering if you had any fic recs with like the younger generation? Harry and Ginny's kids, Teddy, etc? I stink at just blindly going on Ao3 and trying to find something but usually if I get a fic rec i'm able to use it and its tags to find others.

Something mostly just fun? (Harry as a teacher would be a nice bonus but idk how much that might limit?)

Just one is fine.

No pressure if you dont want to i just noticed you sharing art for that time period and fingured i'd ask.

Hope you have a lovely day :)

Hi! I love the next gen Potter/Weasley family and have written several stories about these wild youths that can be found here: Next Gen Arc

But here are a few other next gen stories I love!

Alohaemora has a collection of next gen stories that are great! I especially loved their 13 days of Christmas story with all the different couples.

Birth Certificate - this is wip but it’s sooo good and I love Rose/Scorpius so much and fine this Rose so funny and refreshing compared to a Hermione clone

Startwearingpurple - she has some of the best Rose Weasley fics out there! They are so funny and also interesting, the situations this girl gets into is mind boggling and the whole universe is so fun. She also has stories about Molly, Lucy, and Roxanne, and she has made Teddy and Victoire into a pair of loving parents to their hoard of children

A dusting of flour smudged on her cheek - I just reread this one yesterday, I love Harry and Lily-Lulu’s dynamic. I feel like this really gets the sweet father/daughter bond down well

Rainbow - while I didn’t like all the headcanons thrown in, I did like the overall story told and the writing was top notch

FloreatCastellum - has some great next gen stories, though I believe they have retired from writing fanfiction

Chicks Before Broomsticks - is a Roxanne lesbian story! With lots of Quidditch and pining between team members, featuring a Deamus daughter

The Beach House by @liiilyevans - it’s also a Roxanne story of her growing up and falling in love while spending time at a beach house with the Wood and Jordan families! It’s very cute and a wip but I know the next chapter is coming soon

[alohaemora]

Oooooh loving all of these 👀

Here's mine:

Remus tightened his jaw. "Tonks—"

"Damn you," Tonks said again, louder this time, her voice breaking. She put her mug down with trembling hands that she immediately clenched into fists. The glare she fixed him with was livid. "How do you say these words to me without a smidgeon of emotion?"

tagging @thecat-isblogging-blog, @celestemagnoliathewriter, @merlins-sequined-hotpants

Last Line Tag Game

thanks for the tag @nuatthebeach !! all these games are really making me wish i was writing more (soon! when phd apps are done!)

i think this is the last line i wrote in anything unpublished? from my hand was the one you reached for:

Undoing her privacy charm and stepping out of the bathroom into the tent’s shock of cold air, Hermione pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a tee from the foot of her bed and crawled under her covers in the hope of an hour or two of the sweet oblivion of sleep.

one day i will start publishing this fic i swear! maybe in february. we’ll see.

tagging: @incalculablepower, @fairsquare16, truly i feel like i always see these last and everyone has already been tagged but if you havent here you go!

[kay-elle-cee]

As 2022 comes to an end, I wanted to share 22 fic recs from my reading list this year. Not all of these necessarily came out in 2022 (it was my first full year back in fandom, so I had a lot to catch up on!) 🥰

If you're tagged in this post (or even if you're not!) I'd love to see you post some of your 2022 recs!

ONESHOTS Prophecy by @alohaemora I Have Questions by @cascader foreigner's god by @clare-with-no-i chasing down the silver linings of wounded minds and wounded souls by darlingjustdont lingering days, short-lived nights by @thegobletofweasleysasleys The Light Come Shining by @nought-shall-go-ill we should just kiss like real people do by @theesteemedladydebourgh tell me where your secrets lie by @thequibblah

MULTICHAPTER Fragmented Foes* by @alittlebitofeverything23 theogony* by clarewithnoi Guarding the Gates* by @corinnesamuels Everlong by @emeralddoeadeer but he's a little bit too far away by @firefeufuego Shelf Awareness by @ghostofbambifanfiction some with arrows, some with traps by @isahorcrux Sunshine in My Eyes by monroeslittle even the bones will do* by @oneofthesirens Come Together* by thequibblah

SERIES The Last Enemy: The Howling Nights + TLE: Dark Marks* by @chdarling the way you left me/heart of glass by @possessingtheproperspirit Shout Out To My Ex + Sequels* by @wearingaberetinparis Jingle—Holy F*ck and The First Time Divorcees Club* by theesteemedladydebourgh

*notes a WIP

In full transparency I've read over 200 fics this year and there are SO MANY MORE fics I could add but I really wanted to stick to 22 for the ~vibes~. If you want more recs, drop a 📖 in my ask and I'll reply with another title! Happy New Year to you all!

[evesaintyves]

9&19 for fic writer asks:)

thank you @indihpblog 🍭

9. what's your writing process like?

it almost always starts with some kind of dumb unhinged note. sometimes it starts with like a quote or excerpt or just an image or feeling i want to try to nail down. sometimes it looks like this:

(this eventually became the fiction of realness)

and sometimes it's more like this:

(that's from the 12k-word idea dump that became my first fanfic)

then i start outlining and summarizing the beats of the story - often brief sloppy versions of the scenes:

(from ch 3 of all the bricks in the wall)

i always do some kind of outlining, even for short stories... i just like having a birds-eye view of the structure. when i'm actually writing it it's almost always sequential from beginning to end.

once it's written i usually sleep on it (or at least do something else for a few hours) before editing. editing can be either a couple of quick passes or a week+ of rewrites and stuff, depending on how i feel about it

i do all this stuff in the notes app on my phone, because i don't know why

19. If you could write an ideal fic, what would it include?

i'd really like to write like a longform character biography like turncoat or maybe like @alohaemora 's human spirit, or else a full-canon-timeline approach like the flying colours series, but i don't know if i have the discipline to see that kind of thing through!

deep fic writer asks

[thethreebroomsticksficfest]

Petrified

Username: Alohaemora

Pairing: Colin Creevey's Mother/Colin Creevey's Father

Summary: Delia Creevey woke up that day with an uneasy feeling in her gut, though she couldn’t put her finger on why.

Join us today as we take a journey to the Creevey household courtesy of @alohaemora. It's a compassionate and heartbreaking insight into the realities of being muggle parents to a magical child. It is a beautiful, poignant piece and we hope you all love Sam and Delia Creevey as much as we do. Read it below or on AO3 here.

*** *** ***

9 November 1992

Delia Creevey woke up that day with an uneasy feeling in her gut, though she couldn’t put her finger on why. It was a Monday quite like any other. Samuel slept like a baby through the obnoxious ringing of their alarm clock at one o’clock in the morning, and she had to prod his ribcage several times to force him out of bed. By the time he was dressed and ready for the day, he was a half-hour late for his first round of milk deliveries, as usual; Delia heard him swearing under his breath as he barrelled down the staircase to their front door.

Delia busied herself with breakfast and other chores as she waited for her husband to come home. At seven o’clock, she went back upstairs to wake Dennis for school. Her nine-year-old groaned and grumbled as he dragged himself to the loo; Delia rolled her eyes at him, reminded strongly of her husband.

“I don’t understand why I still have to go to school,” Dennis mumbled a few minutes later, as he sat down at the kitchen table. “I’ll go to Hogwarts like Colin, won’t I?”

“Well, we won’t know that until you’re eleven, will we?” Delia tutted. She set a bowl of porridge in front of him. “Besides, magic school or not, you’ve got to keep exercising your brain. I’m sure even wizards have to learn something before Hogwarts.”

“But Mum, what’s the point? On Friday, Miss Adams told us that we can’t make objects fly, ’cause of gravity. But Colin learned how to do that last week—he wrote about it in his letter, remember?”

Delia had no response to this, so she settled for tapping her watch and looking pointedly at her son. Dennis let out a huffy sigh and shoved a spoonful of porridge in his mouth.

All things considered, Delia felt it was a miracle that she managed to see her son off to school and get all of her morning errands done before her husband came home from work that afternoon. She was putting away the groceries from the market when she remembered the anxious feeling she had woken up with that morning. She frowned, pausing with her hand over a sack of potatoes. Had she had a bad dream? She couldn’t remember, she’d always been rubbish at remembering her dreams…

Shaking her head, Delia reached into a nearby cupboard and pulled out a saucepan to begin making lunch. She had just turned on the stove when she heard the jingle of the front door. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Sam stump into the kitchen from the foyer; he pulled off his coat, looking frustrated and tired. Her heart sank.

“Not another one?” she asked quietly.

“Two,” Sam said in a bitter voice, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table and sinking into it. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, then rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “The Grants and the Turners.”

“Oh, no,” Delia murmured, turning the stove down and coming to stand next to him. Gently, she reached out and prised his hands away from his face. He met her gaze, swallowing heavily. She brushed a lock of his mousy brown hair off his forehead, and he closed his eyes to her touch.

“Sorry,” he whispered gruffly.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she told him firmly. “I was just at the market, I saw how cheap it was there. You can’t be expected to compete with that.”

“How can we continue like this?” asked Sam. “Jack is thinking about quitting—maybe I should, too.”

“Give it another year or two,” she advised him, walking back to the stove. “Who knows how things will look then? This plastic could be a passing fancy. Your milk bottles are tried and true—it takes time to see what’s a fad and what isn’t.”

Sam was quiet for several moments. When Delia glanced over her shoulder again, she saw that he was smiling at her.

“What’s that look for?” she asked him, eyebrows raised.

“You sound just like Dennis when you talk like that,” he said fondly. “D’you know, he cornered me after dinner last night and asked if he could stop going to school? Went on and on about how everything he’s learning is useless, that gravity can’t be real—not if Colin can make things fly, now.”

“He tried the same thing with me this morning,” Delia sighed. “That boy won’t rest.”

“Wonder if they’ve got magic lawyers,” Sam said, grinning. “Dennis could get paid for arguing all day and night.”

“Well, I suppose Colin needs someone to keep his head out of the clouds—not that I think Dennis will be any better about it all if he gets into that school, too, mind you,” Delia huffed. “Speaking of which,” she turned and shot her husband a sharp look, “we’ve got to stop talking to Dennis like he’ll be going to Hogwarts like Colin. You heard what that professor woman said in June—it’s not a sure thing with brothers and sisters. We won’t know about Dennis until—”

“Oh, come off it, Dee,” Sam scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “There’s no question—our boys are both magic. It all makes sense now, doesn’t it? All those odd things the two of them got up to when they were little.”

“Yes, but still—” she broke off abruptly, looking around. There was a soft tapping sound at the kitchen window. An enormous, handsome-looking owl was perched on the windowsill.

“And speak of the devil,” Sam said happily, jumping to his feet and hurrying to the window. “About time he sent another letter, innit? God, Dee, look at the bird he’s sent this time—it’s so posh.”

Delia smiled in spite of herself at the ringing note of excitement in her husband’s voice. If she had been a little suspicious and wary when that professor had dropped in unexpectedly over the summer to invite Colin to Hogwarts…well, she supposed Samuel had more than made up for her initial lack of enthusiasm. He had been exactly the opposite—utterly astonished and delighted. If Delia hadn’t known otherwise, she might have thought her husband was the one who had been accepted into magic school.

“I hope he’s finally stopped following that Harry boy around with his camera,” Delia called to her husband, without turning away from the stove. “Poor lad looked absolutely mortified in that last photo Colin sent—”

“Delia.”

Delia whirled around. Her husband was gazing down at the letter he had disentangled from the owl with an expression of undisguised horror. Delia dropped the ladle she was holding; the knot of anxiety returned to her stomach in full force.

The Creeveys jumped up from their ratty old sectional in unison as a knock sounded at their front door. White-faced and grim, Sam stalked into the foyer and pulled open the door; Delia followed at his heels.

Professor McGonagall looked exactly the same as she had the first time Delia had seen her, just five months ago—tall and draped in emerald-green robes, her black hair pulled back in an immaculate bun. The only difference was her expression: Though it was as stern-looking as the last time Delia had seen it, there was a heaviness in it today that had not been there before.

“Mr. and Mrs. Creevey, I’m so very sorry,” the professor said.

And just like that, the painful knot in Delia’s stomach seemed to lodge itself in her throat, and her eyes burned with tears. “How did this happen?” she demanded, her voice tight. “How—how could you allow this to happen?”

“I promise, Mrs. Creevey, I’ll explain everything to you inside,” said Professor McGonagall. “For the sake of everyone’s safety, I don’t want to risk us being overheard.”

Delia opened her mouth to argue, but Sam reached out and squeezed her shoulder. She looked at him; there were tears in his eyes, too, but he was looking at her imploringly.

Delia swiped impatiently at her eyes, then gave the professor a stiff nod, stepping aside. The three of them trooped back into the sitting room, taking seats along the sectional.

Professor McGonagall glanced around the sitting room for a moment, then looked at Delia. “Your younger son?”

“He’s at school down the lane,” Delia said sharply, “where the worst thing that’s ever happened to him is a few scrapes on his knees.”

“Dee,” Sam said quietly, but Delia silenced him with a glare.

The professor closed her eyes for a moment. When she faced the two of them again, her jaw was clenched. “As I mentioned in my letter, your son was found petrified on a staircase, near the castle’s second floor. I want to assure you, Mr. and Mrs. Creevey, as I did in my letter, that Colin is still alive—”

“Still alive?” Delia gasped. “But that makes it sound like…” She trailed off, unable to say the words out loud. Sam’s hand tightened around hers.

“What d’you mean, he was found…petrified?” Sam asked hoarsely. “What does…how did—?”

“He’s still alive,” Professor McGonagall said again, and Delia was seized by a sudden urge to scream at the woman. She felt her hand tremble in her husband’s. “But he has been rendered immobile and unresponsive—”

“For the love of God, say it plainly, please,” Delia snapped.

“It’s as though he’s been turned to stone,” the professor said, sounding pained. “He can’t move, can’t speak. He’s been completely paralyzed.”

Delia barely heard Sam’s low groan over the ringing in her ears. She felt hot, angry tears rise to her eyes once more. “How did this happen?” she asked again.

The professor was quiet for a long moment. “I’m afraid we don’t yet know.”

“Who at your school is capable of doing something like this?” Delia demanded. “Who would hurt a child? ”

“We don’t know,” said Professor McGonagall, and for the first time, Delia heard her voice falter. Delia let out an angry sob, standing up from the sofa.

“Let us see him,” she said shakily. “Let us bring him home, he’s only just eleven—oh, Sam, he must have been so scared…”

“I…am so sorry,” the professor said, “but I’m afraid I can’t let you bring him back home. Madam Pomfrey, our school matron, has insisted that Colin remain in the Hospital Wing for observation until we can give him a restorative draught—no non-magical hospital would be capable of properly treating his condition—”

“When will this draught be given to him?” Sam interrupted hopefully.

“Our potions master believes he can have it brewed within six to seven months, once the necessary ingredients have matured—”

“Six months? ” Delia’s voice cracked. “Our son will be paralyzed for six months? How can he—how will he ever be the same?”

“I assure you, Mrs. Creevey, that our potions master is very capable. I am confident that his restorative draught will have Colin completely back to normal.”

“Well, then, you must let us see him,” Delia insisted. “Until he’s back to normal, you must take us to visit him. How can you expect us to sit around for six months, knowing what’s happened to him, knowing that he’s…he’s all alone?”

The corner of Professor McGonagall’s mouth trembled for a moment, then thinned again. “I will speak to the headmaster about arranging some way for you to visit your son.”

“Why must it be arranged?” Delia snapped. “Surely, with all your magic, it can’t be so hard to take us both back with you to Scotland—”

“Hogwarts exists under hundreds of thousands of security measures, to prevent it from being accessed by non-magical folk,” the professor explained heavily. “Believe me, Mrs. Creevey, I am not being intentionally difficult. When I myself was a teenager at Hogwarts, my father, who wasn’t magical, was told he could not visit me in the hospital after I suffered a serious sports injury. But things have changed since I was teenager—I am confident our current headmaster will make it his foremost priority to find a way for you to see Colin. I will write to you once he has a plan in place.”

Delia lowered herself back onto the sofa next to her husband, covering her face with tremulous hands. A long silence unfolded over the sitting room.

“Why…why Colin?” Sam croaked. “Why was it him? Why did they hurt him, whoever it was?”

“Once again, we can’t say for sure,” Professor McGonagall said quietly. “But we have reason to believe that he was targeted because he is Muggle-born—it’s a term we use for students who come from non-magical parents. Historically, in our world, biases have existed against such students, but as a school, we stand firmly against instances of any such prejudice.”

“Let me be sure I understand you,” Delia said, her voice shaking. “You’re telling us that Colin was targeted at school because we’re not magic—and yet, the reason we can’t bring him home is because we’re not magic?”

For the first time that day, Professor McGonagall did not seem to have a response. Delia buried her face in her husband’s shoulder and sobbed.

*** *** ***

Delia was curled up under her covers rereading Colin’s most recent letter from school when Sam came back to their bedroom from seeing Dennis to bed.

She immediately set the letter aside, sitting up straight. “How did he—?”

“Took it surprisingly well. Asked if Colin would be all right, of course,” Sam said tiredly, sitting down next to her on the bed. “Then, he made me promise I’d bring Colin his favorite quilt when we visit him at the school—the one your mum made for him, remember? With the red lorries.”

Delia’s chin trembled. “Oh.”

Sam gazed at her. “He also asked if he and Colin would still be allowed to go to Hogwarts.”

Delia closed her eyes. “Sam—”

“Come on, Dee, how can we ask them to give up who they are? How can we ever expect them to be happy if we don’t let them be magic?”

“How can you still be so obsessed with all this magic nonsense?” she demanded. “After everything that woman told us, after our son was hurt? ”

Sam’s eyes filled with tears, and Delia felt her fight leave her in an instant. All the anxiety she'd felt in the last twenty-four hours washed over her again, and she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her face into his shoulder before he could see her own tears.

“I thought he’d finally be able to get away from it all, in his magic world,” Sam said hoarsely, his voice muffled against her neck. “How stupid am I, Dee? Here, he’s the milkman’s odd son, and there, he’s the magic boy from non-magic parents. How could I have thought—?”

“Oh, Sam, don’t,” she begged, squeezing her arms more tightly around him. “No matter where he is, he’s still our boy, still our sweet Colin…”

Sam let out an agonized sound that sounded as though it had been wrenched from his chest.

Just then, there was a knock at their bedroom door. Delia startled, drawing back from her husband. She looked at him, and he nodded, already turning away from the door to wipe his eyes. Delia hurriedly wiped away her own tears, then called out, “Come in, sweetheart. It’s unlocked.”

Dennis poked his head into the room, taking in the scene; his eyes landed finally on Sam, who was still turned away from the door. “Dad?”

“What’s the matter, son? Did we wake you?” Sam asked, turning around finally to face the room. His voice was too bright to be believable; Delia was sure that Dennis noticed. His young, wide eyes flitted between the two of them a few times.

Then, he closed the door and slunk into the room, toward the bed. “Can I…could I sleep in here tonight?”

Delia looked at her husband, who shrugged back at her. She turned back to Dennis, smiling for the first time in what felt like years. Her cheek muscles ached from it. “Your choice, sweetheart. You know how early your father’s awful alarm will go off.”

But Dennis was already scooting up the bed, into the narrow space between his parents’ pillows. Sam caught her gaze and gave her a small smile. At nine years old, Dennis, though easily the smallest boy in his class, was too big to comfortably fit in their bed; the boys hadn’t crawled in next to their parents at night in ages. But Delia knew neither she nor Sam would be sending Dennis back to his room tonight. She had resigned herself to a sleepless night the moment that letter had arrived at the kitchen window.

“Budge up,” Sam joked, giving Dennis a little poke in the ribs as he climbed under the covers. Dennis laughed, trying to poke his father in return but, chuckling, Sam caught Dennis’s fingers and pulled him into a hug instead. Laughing softly, Delia flicked off her bedside lamp and slipped under the blankets next to her son and husband.

She closed her eyes, trying not to think about the empty space on the bed between Dennis and herself—forcing herself not to imagine her boy, his expression frozen in fear as he lay in a hospital bed, hundreds of miles away.

She squeezed her eyes shut tighter and thought instead of the last few sentences from Colin’s latest letter home.

I love it here, Mum! I can’t wait till Den’s here too. I was scared I would fall behind since I didn’t know anything about magic before Hogwarts, but I think I’m doing all right. I made a feather fly with my wand last week! I was the second one in my whole class to do it. I love you, Mum. Tell Dennis and Dad I miss them. I can’t wait to see you all at Christmas!

Colin xx

[hinnyfied]

Fic Rec ask # 18! (I must be a sadist 🙈)

18. 😭 A fic that ripped your heart out (but it hurt so good)

I must be a sadist too because I love fics that make me sad! I've got a bunch!

Toys in the Attic by @ashesandhackles and @thecat-isblogging-blog

Laugh With Me (Buddy) by @lanaturnergetup

Petrified by @alohaemora

Watch (the minutes tick, tick, tick and we couldn't save you) by @pebblysand

Fiat Justitia by @mrs-stubby-boardman

[ashesandhackles]

The WIP game

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them. Then, post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! Tag as many people as you have WIPs. (You can make your own post or reblog this one!)

Thanks for the tag @floreatcastellumposts @lanaturnergetup @alohaemora @artemisia-black @evesaintyves @thecat-isblogging-blog @shes-a-gryffindor ❤️

Here is my list

1. Snack Manifesto (that's the doc name for Beyond the Veil, go figure) + seperate doc for plot breakdown with @thedreamermusing

2. Remus Snape Order comedy with @thecat-isblogging-blog

3. Halloween 93 with @shes-a-gryffindor @thecat-isblogging-blog

4. Letters to No one

5. Rolf x Luna + Charlie with @dragonlordette

6. Shigure/Kureno

7. Snape at end of GOF

8. Remus - Harry meta

9. House elf storyline critical

10. Vicious and Julia aspects of Spike

11. Shigure - Anger, discontent and dehumanisation

12. Eileen and Lily

13. Harry's Jungian journey

Tagging @thedreamermusing @bluethepineapple @yletylyf @leogichidaa @ssnuffles @broomsticks @billsfangearring @wanderingbandurria @casquecest @snapesnailtape @maria-de-salinas (i think most of you have already done it but you are the names that came to me :D)

[ashesandhackles]

Thanks for the tag (and you as well @thecat-isblogging-blog ) and reminding me to write more scenes for this chapter. XD

Soulless, evil, deserving of nothing less than death.. Have you convinced your father you are a good boy, Remus? A snide voice, much like his own, asked him.

@yletylyf @starlingflight @lanaturnergetup @floreatcastellumposts @hinnyfied @izzythehutt @alohaemora @pebblysand

@femellerklem @evilbeanghost @snapesnailtape @maria-de-salinas @sedge64 @sybill-the-seer @justfinishthis

(no pressure! Anyone who wants to do this can join in).

tagged by @effervescentdragon. i can’t wait for more of your fic omg it’s gonna be so good!!

Rules: write the latest line from a wip and tag as many people as there are words in the line. Make a new post!

“And for whatever reason, he wants, wanted, always will want, Michael.”

tags: @antogioamoremio @enthaising @f1errari @doveturneddestroyer @bigmickenergy @nozurchesinthewild @nekorosberg @jaytwo @unhinged-vettel @ivettel @vettelsbitch and anyone else who wants to do it and obv no pressure!!

[alohaemora]

15 Questions | 15 People

thanks for the tag! @thecat-isblogging-blog 💜

1. are you named after anyone? nope! my parents chose my name for its meaning

2. when was the last time you cried? 3ish weeks ago

3. do you have kids? no, but I would like to in the future

4. do you use sarcasm a lot? deadpan humor is definitely not 90% of my personality or anything

5. what’s the first thing you notice about people? hmm probably their eyes or general facial structure?

6. what’s your eye colour? brown

7. scary movies or happy ending? happy ending

8. any special talents? I have really good short-term memory, it definitely fueled my procrastinate-y tendencies when I was in school

9. where were you born? California

10. what are your hobbies? fandom/reading/writing, listening to music, dancing, trying new restaurants, traveling/exploring places on foot, shopping (especially for others! I love giving gifts)

11. do you have any pets? no, but my husband grew up with pets that I see often ❤️

12. what sports do you play/have you played? I ran in high school

13. how tall are you? average height

14. favourite subject at school? math

15. dream job? the one I have!

tagging (sorry if you were already tagged!) @incalculablepower @ashesandhackles @merlins-sequined-hotpants @constitutionalweasleymonarchy @hinnyfied @somesunlitdays @indihpblog @whinlatter @annabtg @practicecourts @uncertainwallflower @evesaintyves @celestemagnoliathewriter @turanga4 @heartstopping-waves

[alohaemora]

Ten Lines Tag Game

Thanks for the tag, @merlins-sequined-hotpants, this was fun ❤️

Rule: Share the first lines of your ten most recent fics and tag ten people. If you've written less than ten fics, don’t be shy — share anyway!

1. Charcoal bloomed across the parchment, lines tracing and overlapping. Dean paused, furrowed his brow, and shifted the angle of his pencil. —Like Pearls (They Shine), a ficlet collection spotlighting characters of color in the Harry Potter series

2. Victoire hummed under her breath, leaning back in her armchair and gently rubbing the small curve of her stomach. —Thirteen Days of Christmas, a collection of holiday-themed Next Gen one-shots

3. Sirius woke to the sound of crying. —Prophecy, a bittersweet BlackEvans friendship fic set during the Potters' last Christmas

4. Sirius paused in the doorway to the drawing room, which—thanks to his and Molly's combined efforts—hardly resembled the gloomy, miserable dump it had been just days earlier. —Reminiscence, a one-shot set during OotP in which Sirius watches Harry fondly and misses his best friends

5. The Firefly Inn was lucky to get five customers on a busy day. —The Firefly Inn, a story about Hogsmeade's least popular pub (or, the story of James Potter's stag night)

6. “It’s two in the bloody morning, Albus. Couldn’t this wait?” —Odds and Ends, a collection of drabbles featuring a wide array of canon characters and eras

7. The air in their house smelled stale and dusty after the many hours they’d spent inhaling the astringent scent of over-cleanliness that permeated St. Mungo’s. —Twenty, the story of James Potter's twentieth birthday

8. Delia Creevey woke up that day with an uneasy feeling in her gut, though she couldn’t put her finger on why. —Petrified, a one-shot set during CoS in which the Creevey family receives some horrifying news

9. The air was ripe with fear and anticipation; Bellatrix inhaled it blissfully, her dark eyes locked on the dim outline of the castle in the distance. —Revenge, an exploration of Bellatrix's determination to prune her family tree

10. Jess had been working at the Holly Bush since the day after she'd dropped out of uni five years ago, which meant she'd been around the block a few times. —Holly Bush, an outsider POV on Remus and Tonks (circa the summer between OotP and HBP)

tagging @incalculablepower, @ashesandhackles, @thecat-isblogging-blog, @constitutionalweasleymonarchy, @indigo-scarf, @kay-elle-cee, @celestemagnoliathewriter, @evesaintyves, @pebblysand, @charmsandtealeaves

[alohaemora]

hi! just wanted to drop by for two things:

a) had to let you know your writing style is BONKERS stellar, so, so good and succinct without undercutting the human emotion within each character you touch; just...you are incredible!

b) I've personally been wondering this for a long while, but have finally decided to just ask: why do you exclusively write canon compliant works? is it because that's what you find most comfortable? is it because you cannot picture anything beyond what's canon? or is it something else? I ask mostly because for a while I have seen many people in the fandom add this to their bios, which kinda turns me off of them (not due to writing, just a preference!), and it's rooted itself inside my brain and, well, here I am.

but I honestly really do adore everything I have read from you, you capture everyone's voices so masterfully I can't help but be enthralled (that Lee Jordan bit for Winter Sun? need more of that POV!).

so, yeah, hope this reaches you well, sorry for bothering! x

First of all, THANK YOU, Anon 🥺 I'm in the thick of a really horrible cold right now, and your words brightened my day. I'm really quite proud of my writing style at this moment in time. I've worked hard over the years at developing a style that balances conciseness and evocation - it's something I struggled with a lot when I first started writing, which you might notice if you read my older fics, so it always makes me genuinely thrilled when people comment on that. (Also, I'm delighted you enjoyed my recent Lee ficlet, I have so much fondness for his character, and hope to write more of him!)

As to why I'm a canon-compliant writer, it actually has very little to do with personal comfort - in fact, I love being pushed out of my comfort zone when I write, it's why my fics feature such a wide range of characters. I almost dislike the word "compliant" sometimes, as it has a bit of a…resigned vibe to it? The reason my works are canon-compliant is because what stimulates me, personally, when it comes to writing fanfiction is envisioning and creating different sides and dimensions to the canon universe. I enjoy the unique challenge that is posed by having to build upon, enrich, and add nuance to the characters and themes introduced to us in canon, while still working within the general parameters of that universe. The recent Winter Sun fest by @harrypocter, for example, has been an incredible writing experience for me - it's been so invigorating to add depth and culture and life to these characters of color, to create rich stories around those small mentions of them we got in the series.

Do I think that the canon universe is perfect? Of course not. I think this is a common experience for those of us who grew up with the series - as we matured, we naturally applied a more critical lens to books that we obsessively loved as children. A reputation that canon-compliant authors often have is that we are completely devoted to the source material and glorify it, when in fact, it's usually the opposite. It's been one of my favorite parts of engaging with this fandom as an adult, reading these incredibly nuanced metas and focused analyses of canon characters and plot lines, and then writing fics that incorporate my newly enhanced understanding. (I'll take this opportunity to rec one of my absolute favorite metas by @ashesandhackles that expertly breaks down all the problems within the series' house-elf-related arc.)

To conclude this wildly long answer lol, it's not that I see myself as trapped within the canon sandbox. Rather, what engages me most is making new things out of the sand. I will add that as a reader, I enjoy AU fic, particularly canon divergence AU, and there are so many truly stellar AU authors out there. One of the great things about this fandom is that because of how enormous it is, there are infinite niches and sub-fandoms. Despite the author's truly harmful actions (I will always support the rights and dignity of trans people and will never monetarily support jkr again), fans put time and care into making this space more inclusive and diverse every year.

Thanks again for the lovely comments ❤️

[alohaemora]

Something I love about your writing:

That you consistently find and lift up the little stories--the character we don't see all the way, the moment that passes so quickly in canon--and you show us that these are what the biggest and most important human stories are made from.

Ahhh thank you! 🥹 This is 100% one of the biggest draws of fanfic for me, finding and writing those little stories

[alohaemora]

say something about the process of your writing, please! anything you like

Once an idea has somewhat formed in my head, I just start writing!

I almost always write in order - pretty much the only exception is if inspiration strikes and I think of a few sentences or lines of dialogue I want to include. In those cases, I'll jot the sentences down a little further down my document, then go back up and continue writing in order until I get to that part. For example, in my fic Reminiscence, I wrote the paragraph below before I wrote much of the earlier portions of the story.

He'd seen this often, with Harry—even in the summer, Sirius had not missed the way his eyes sought Ginny out in a crowded room, almost unconsciously, or the way Harry would look to her after someone made a particularly stupid comment, the smirks and eye-rolls that only they were privy to. It reminded Sirius intensely of Lily—of the way her gaze had lingered on James, long after their conversations ended, of the inside jokes and the teasing banter, less vitriolic and more playful with the years.

I've found that outlining doesn't work for me, even for long fics - the only fic I've ever outlined thoroughly is the one fic I never found the motivation to even start writing. I felt a bit too locked in. I prefer taking a more flexible approach. I also try to take a break after I've finished writing something so I can come back to it with fresh eyes - usually, I find I appreciate my writing a lot more when I'm not so bogged down by the little things.

During my final read-through before I post a new story/chapter, I'll often read it out loud to myself 😊

Thanks so much for the ask!